#davrin romance

[frecklef0x]

Don’t worry, Assan very happily gets the armchair in front of the fire all to himself.

[finnfrei]

Something for my mental wellbeing

[a---b---b---y]

Hello? I love your art style! You ever drawn Davrin? (Genuinely curious and if not I will simply consume whatever you make (

Your art blesses my eyes

✨This one (1) Davrin unit is for you for being so nice 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫵✨(and yeeeAAAH THERE WILL BE MORE)

[kirain]

Romanced Emmrich, Lucanis and Davrin reacting to Rook being trapped in the Fade prison?

Oh, you want angst? I'll give you angst. 😌

Emmrich is in ruins, consumed by despair.

He doesn't eat. Doesn't sleep. He barely drinks unless his colleagues force it down his throat.

His library is in chaos—books scattered across the floor, balls of crumpled parchment in every corner, diagrams scrawled on every wall.

He doesn't bathe. Doesn't shave. He can't remember what his bed feels like.

He's passed out on the floor so often, just for a few minutes at a time, that it's a miracle his back hasn't snapped in two. It aches. Everything aches. Every limb, every muscle... but nothing hurts more than his heart.

He needs Rook back.

He needs to touch her, to hold her.

He needs to apologise.

For arguing with her, and for telling her to sever the dagger's connection with Ghilan'nain.

This is all his fault.

He pushed her away—and now, he might have killed her.

"Serves you right, Volkarin," Johanna taunts from her pedestal. "I warned you decades ago. With a mind like yours, you were never meant for love."

Her words break him yet further. They shouldn't. He tells himself not to let them.

But they do.

That same evening, he entrusts her to Myrna and Vorgoth. Just until he figures out how to cut through the Veil.

Just until he brings Rook back.

His eyes shimmer with frustration as he tries, for the hundredth time, to replicate Solas' blade. The magic is too potent, too unfamiliar. His body is barely holding together. His hands twitch with pain.

"No, please," he begs, as the lyrium cracks and turns to dust on his desk.

Another failure. Too many to count.

He breaks down, slumping into his chair, tears soaking the worthless schematics beneath him.

At this moment, Manfred might have been a comfort—had Emmrich not entrusted the wisp to Myrna as well. Another decision to feel wretched about, but he couldn't bear the confused, restless hisses—the way Manfred kept glancing at the door, expecting Rook to walk in with her usual bright smile.

The poor spirit simply didn't understand why she hadn't come home.

Why it feels so devastatingly empty without her.

"Darling..." Emmrich sobs. "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry."

Exhaustion pulls him under. The world blurs and spins. He cries until there's nothing left; his tears run dry.

Then he gets back to work.

Lucanis rubs his temples, on the verge of collapse as he watches Spite haul another useless pile of junk from the Fade.

The spirit groans angrily, and Lucanis can barely keep his grip steady as he sips the same bitter coffee that's kept him upright for days.

As if fretting about Rook weren't enough, he also has to play watchdog.

The first night, after he'd passed out from sheer exhaustion, Spite bolted to the eluvian and tried to return to Tearstone, despite being told, over and over, that the island had been incinerated in a raging inferno.

"No! No more. Coffee!"

Spite swings the half-conscious Crow's arm like a marionette, flinging the mug aside. It shatters, steaming liquid seeping through the cracks in the ground.

Wasted.

"You. Sleep! I find. Rook!"

Lucanis huffs, his patience frayed, his sanity worn thin. In this state, he knows he'd be powerless to help, even if Spite somehow did manage to locate Rook.

But even so, he can't lose control. Not when Spite is this erratic.

"We're going back to the Lighthouse," he says, forcing himself to his feet.

"Not. Without. Rook!"

"Enough," Lucanis scoffs. "The team is working themselves to the brink trying to find answers. Meanwhile, you're rock hunting."

"I'm. Rook hunting!"

"You're useless, is what you are... and so am I."

He turns to leave, but a sudden, agonising pain lances through his body, every nerve firing at once. He chokes on a gasp, then clenches his teeth as his legs buckle and blood trickles from his nose.

"I. HATE. YOU!" Spite screams, and with a furious howl, he yanks an avalanche of rubble from the Fade—so much that it drains them both, dropping Lucanis to his knees.

As the dust settles, an uncomfortable silence follows.

They catch their breath amidst the mess: broken stairs, crumbled statues, scattered cobblestone, all of it dragged into the world by Spite in desperation and without direction.

Lucanis, always so stoic and composed, braces himself on his hands. His head hangs low, chest heaving. He can't tell if the droplets on his face are sweat... or tears.

Deep down, he'd been hoping this would work. Now, he can only stare at the aftermath.

She's. Still. Gone.

"I didn't. Mean it," Spite mutters after a while. "I don't. Hate you."

"I know," Lucanis says.

"I miss... Rook."

"I know, ermano. I do, too."

Though he fights to stay conscious, Lucanis loses the battle. He crumples, lost to the dark. And Spite, still reeling from his outburst, carefully walks him back to the Lighthouse.

Davrin seems unshakable. He wakes every morning, grooms himself, sharpens his sword, feeds Assan. It's what he knows—what he's always known.

He's not a mage. He doesn't have a connection to the Fade. What can he do?

What the fuck can he do?

Only wait.

He's asked around. Approached the Wardens. Worked with the team. But all he can do is wait for someone better versed in elven magic to find answers.

That's fine. He's patient. He's disciplined. He knows how to bide his time.

Assan whines, but Davrin ignores it.

Besides, Rook is strong. Intelligent. She'll probably figure out a way to escape before any of them get the chance to rescue her.

That's the worst—when Assan misses her. When he sniffs around the room, searching for her.

"Easy, boy. She'll be home soon," he says.

He's tired of saying it... but he keeps saying it. As the days drag by, he keeps saying those same four words, over and over:

"She'll be home soon."

Assan keeps brooding, gnawing at Davrin's coat, urging him outside to track her. He doesn't understand she's gone from this world.

No longer reachable.

Assan pulls and pulls, squawks, flaps his wings. He's never behaved like this, but it's not his fault. That's what Rook would say.

He's just a baby.

Davrin takes a breath and resists, tugging back. He tells Assan to stop, but the griffon yanks harder, tearing his coat and sending him stumbling face-first into the table behind him, eyes landing on his shield.

Damn it, why is he here? It should be him trapped in the Fade, not Rook.

In war, victory. In peace, vigilance. In death, sacrifice. That is a Warden's oath. His promise. His duty.

He was supposed to protect her!

With a roaring shout, he swipes his arm across the surface, sending his shield and hand-carved wooden figurines crashing to the floor.

Assan scrambles back, ears down, tail tucked between his legs. He can only watch, quivering, as Davrin wreaks havoc on the room, upending furniture and hurling anything in reach. The commotion echoes through the Lighthouse—until Davrin catches himself.

What a shameful display.

He stares out the window, the eclipse blinding, his fists trembling at his sides.

"Assan, I..."

A delicate knock cuts through the haze, drawing his attention.

"Davrin? Everything all right?"

"I'm fine," he calls back, voice calm as a forgotten grave, though his mind is so aggrieved he can't even tell who's behind the door.

When he hears his well-meaning companion leave, he collects the figurines one by one, lingering on Rook's favourite before placing it exactly where it stood.

In perfect order.

He then steps slowly towards Assan, kneels, and wraps his arms around the griffon's neck, his fingers threading through soft feathers.

"Sorry, boy," he whispers. "She'll be home soon."

[rpgchoices]

Davrin's past and his Dalish clan and his vallaslin (all mentions I could find)

So much in the game is hidden behind banters between companions (which is ahhhh a bit annoying) so I compiled all the banter and information I found about Davrin's past.

Not really plot spoilers, just Davrin spoilers.

At the end I will summarize everything in a bullepoints list.

Bellara and Davrin banter:

Text here (link)

There are also a few other banters I did not record where it is implied Davrin does not care about the gods or some other late game revelations. The only thing he cares about (and mentions again later in game, in a main scene) is how people see Dalish and elves, and how to minimize the risk of humans hating elves even more.

Taash and Davrin's banter (text in description for each image)

Davrin's quests information:

Here are other mentions from Davrin first quest: Rook: How did it go? Davrin: Poorly. They felt like I rejected them. Rook: Did you? Davrin: Yeah, I suppose. Clan life wasn't for me. I had to get away. Rook: So then what happened? You're out in the world, looking for adventure… Davrin: Got my ass kicked. Went broke. Davrin: I couldn't go crawling back to my clan a failure. Doubt they'd take me back. It forced me to figure out what I was good at. Always had a knack for hunting.

Other info we get from the Halla quest is that: Davrin spent summers tending Halla as a kid alongside Eldrin, who is not his uncle, but like an uncle. So this is a case of Davrin wanting to spend time with Hallas, or being made to by his clan. Eldrin's vallaslin is Ghilan'nain:

So it could be that Davrin's new vallaslin might be Ghilan'nain too. But I think it is Andruil's or a mix of the two.

Davrin could have gotten the vallaslin to honor Eldrin (we know he is the only member of his clan - if he is part of his clan - Davrin has no trouble contacting, even if they seem to have not met each other's in a while). But we also know Davrin was a hunter.

Eldrin was also the one who taught Davrin what to hunt basically. In his first quest Davrin says "When I was a kid, I'd hunt just about anything. Rabbits, deer, fox. Eldrin gave that purpose. Taught me the Way of Three Trees. The Way of the Arrow, Way of the Bow, Way of the Wood."

This is from Andruil and if we look at all three vallaslin:

Emmrich and Davrin:

(they have some discussions about Davrin not believing in the Fade or liking it, this is the one which mentions the Dalish clan)

There are also a few other banters at the Lighthouse that mention the Fade and the sky. Mainly they are about Davrin being uncomfortable with the open space and stuff about him disbelieving the Fade: "Good. Because it's not the sky. Emmrich says it's the Fade. Me, I don't know what to think."

Final banter with Davrin:

So basically, the summary of what we know for certain is:

Davrin left his clan voluntarily because he felt restless, he did not care about tradition and lessons, and he wanted to see the world

He felt like he did not fit in his clan since he was a kid

He was also hunting everything he could find until Eldrin taught him the way of the Three Trees and to protect life by hunting darkness (monsters)

Eldrin is like an uncle for him and lives isolated (unsure if he is part of Davrin's clan) and Davrin used to spend summers helping him with the hallas

Davrin feels like he pissed off his clan, he rejected them and both Davrin and Bellara agree it would be hard for him to go back

In another dialogue, he says he actually did not think the clan would take him back at all even if he crawled back asking for help ("Like a failure" he says)

He does not regret joining the Grey Wardens and looking for adventures, but he seems to regret that came at the cost of leaving the clan and not being able to return or keep in contact with them

Also, he says the outside world was different from what he imagined

PART 2 HERE

[rainythoughtsforme]

I'm a very good hunter

I'm seeing that

[danananab]

So.... last year around this time i made this to join fandom . I found it funny to have a similar picture for "anniversary".

Its just a a messy sketch with color just to get idea out of my head.

this is my first rook with his LI Davrin...even if this sketch doesn't look like Davrin...sigh . Anatomy? what is that? Need to practice + that angle ugh.

Anyways...My first rook likes nice pillows *wink*

[magerightsmagefights]

My HoFs always romance Zevran, so I'm not really keen on the whole "Crows are actually good and we never see them kill innocents ever, and also no mention of slavery" bit. As such, I've never been interested in a Crow Rook, unless I headcanon them escaping the Crows post-game.

HOWEVER, my next Rook will be a Davrinmance run, and de Riva is undoubtedly the funniest candidate for these conditions. Mainly because she grew up in the shadow of Zevran “biggest embarrassment of the century” Arainai, who not only failed to carry out his contract on a Grey Warden, but actually fell in love with his target and turned against the Crows which led to the downfall of his house.

Which means that after the game, some unlucky soul is going to have to tell Viago "Hey. Uh. So your protege met this Grey Warden..."

"You'd better not say what I think you're going to say."

"And now we can't find her..."

"Absolutely not. Send word to the First Talon. We are not doing this again, and definitely not in my house."

"So about that. The First Talon. She took Lucanis with her."

"??!?"

(I don't see much in Davrin/Lucanis, however it would be immensely funny if they were throupled with Rook because it means Davrin's Grey Warden aura was powerful enough to snatch two Crows.)