#tarquin datv

[mycelliumelium]

The wall of light

[necromanticsoul]

Shadow Dragons Week 2026 - Day 3 - Hope|Despair

Thank you for hosting and for the prompts @shadow-dragon-week !

Rook has a nightmare

(Word count 1,074, also on AO3)

The dragon's roar shook the city, and the horrid sound of wing beats echoed in Rook's head as she ran through the streets of Minrathous. Every few minutes she could see the dragon make a pass at the city, breathing a line of fire and destroying whatever stood in it's path. The beast hit a building with it's tail, sending bits of plaster and stone tumbling to the ground.

She could hear screams around her, trying to run for cover or towards the harbor, hoping that the water would protect them from the fire. It was worst than the night of Solas's ritual.

"The city can't take much more of this!" Lace shouted behind her. "We have to find Neve!"

Rook gave a sharp nod, zig zagging through the streets in search of her fellow Shadow, in search of any of the Shadows really.

The dragon mage another pass, diving towards a building, and the same stench of blight and rot that had permeated D'Metas Crossing hit her as the dragon slashed at anyone in its way with its claws. A woman stood in a doorway, frozen in fear, toddler in her arms, and the dragon was diving straight towards her.

Ashur slumped against the doorway, the woman and the child huddled in the street a few feet away from where he'd shoved them out of the dragon's path. A bloodied gash spread across Ashur's chest as he groaned in pain.

"Viper!" Tarquin's voice held fear and worry as he rushed to Ashur's side, trying to get a better look at the wound. Ashur pushed Tarquin away, not letting the Templar touch the wound or get too close.

"Don't," the Viper said raggedly, pain etched around his eyes. "The dragon was blighted. Can't...let you get blighted too."

Rook didn't realize she was the one screaming at first. Despair curled around her like a serpent, sinking into her very soul. She was too late...the damage was already done, her friends lay injured or dying around her, and again she was too late.

Someone shook her hard, a voice threading through the nightmare and jolting Rook back to the waking world. She wasn't in the streets of Minrathous, surrounded by blight, blood, and fire. She was propped up against pillows on a fancy looking couch, fancy like the furniture she'd seen in Lucanis's villa and the Divine's manor.

Her throat felt raw from screaming, and Tarquin, dressed in what she was pretty sure was one of Ashur's shirts, hovered over her, a harried expression on his face. "Rook, are you alright? What had you screaming so loud?"

Her mouth opened and closed, but she couldn't formulate any words as she stared at him, her mind still catching up with the fact that it had been a nightmare. She realized she was trembling, and Tarquin gave her a look of alarm when she sobbed.

Things seemed to go hazy for a few minutes, and when she really came back to herself, she felt Tarquin holding her, her head tucked into the crook of his neck, the shirt he wore wet from her crying, and Ashur's strong hand on her back.

"Must have been a pretty bad nightmare," Tarquin was telling Ashur.

"Hmm, given even half of what Neve has told us of their fight against the gods, I'm not surprised. Even just some of it would break some people. But Neve said Rook held the team together no matter what happened."

"What you both went through, what the Shadows went through, would break people," Rook whispered against Tarquin's neck. She was vaguely aware she was still trembling, but she wasn't disassociating anymore at least.

"Venhedis, Rook, you gave us a scare," Tarquin told her. "Woke Ashur and I out of a dead sleep."

She felt the sofa shift as Ashur sat beside her and Tarquin. "What was the nightmare about?" he asked gently.

"I saw the dragon attack Minrathous. I saw you being blighted," Rook shuddered. "It felt so real."

"The dragon's dead, Rook," Ashur reassured her. "The Veilguard and the Wardens killed it and the Treviso dragon in the wetlands. The Blight is over, and I'm okay."

"I might argue with the term okay," Tarquin said dryly, "You work yourself too hard and don't get enough sleep, but you aren't blighted or dying anymore."

"We all work too hard and none of us get enough sleep," Ashur replied pointedly. "Rook fell asleep in the middle of a conversation with Mae."

Well that explained why she'd been sleeping on one of Ashur's couches at least.

She sat up, forcing herself to pull away from Tarquin and Ashur and stood, attempting to gather whatever was left of her tattered dignity. "I'm sorry I woke you two. Tarquin's right, you both have dark circles under your eyes. You two should head back to bed. I just need to get down to the Eluvian and back to the Lighthouse."

Tarquin snorted and quickly moved to stand in her way. "If you think we're letting you go back to the Lighthouse alone after you were so exhausted you feel asleep in the middle of a conversation and woke screaming so loud they could probably hear you in Dock Town, you're an idiot, Desa Mercar."

She winced and glanced down in guilt. "I've already bothered you two enough tonight."

"No, we're not letting you slip away that easily, Rook," Tarquin told her firmly.

"The couch in the sitting room is a bit more comfortable than this one," Ashur told her. "You can sleep there, and the three of us will talk in the morning."

She debated arguing. She debated waiting until Ashur and Tarquin had gone back to bed and slipping out.

But she was just so tired. Between the schedule she'd been keeping and the nightmare, she didn't have the energy to argue. So she let Ashur and Tarquin usher her towards the Divine's personal quarters and get her settled on a comfortable divan, and let Tarquin fuss as he put a blanket over her.

Tarquin fixed her with a glare before he and Ashur headed back to bed. "Don't you dare go anywhere, Rook. Not before we've had a chance to talk in the morning."

She nodded and fell back against her pillow. As exhaustion began to claim her again, she felt something she had not felt in relation to Ashur and Tarquin in months.

She felt hope.

Tag list, let me know if you want on or off

@serialsforbellara @brennacedria @curiouswisp @tkwritesdumbassassins @juniper-and-dragonthorn @talkmagically @vixenofcadmea @nevarrantorte @madamemortem @davrinsleftpectoral @blackwall-my-tiny-husband @kogarashi-art @notyourmamasdeerbat @bonesandivy @gingervitus @operative-arrow @mageofquandrix @sorcerousadventurer @serensama @viagosbrother @handsignals @woundedsoul12 @babydinosaur930 @sandcastlekings

[mageofquandrix]

WIP Words

I was tagged by @mythals-whore and @biowaredisasterbisexual (there might have been others, I'm sorry!)

Rules: You will be given a word. Then you share an excerpt from your wip(s) that starts with each letter of your word.

My words were SPIRIT and HONEY.

I used my early-stages (Julien) Mercar/Tarquin marriage of necessity WIP! (I took a break for the holidays, but this reminded me just how much I like this one! I am going to pick it back up.)

HONEY

H -He didn’t feel like one. A good man would have volunteered, not dragged his feet. But if he couldn't be a good man, he could at least be good enough. O - "Oh?" Julien looked up from his book and, at one look of the uncomfortable look on Tarquin's face, slid a finger in to keep his spot before closing it. N - “No charge,” Julien muttered, giving Tarquin a wry smile, all bloody teeth though split lips. “I’m being questioned. For what, couldn’t fucking tell you.” E - “Everyone knows I’m a flirt,” Julien said, as he leaned against the wall, braced with his arm above his head. “It’d be odd if I stopped.” Y - "Yeah, get me the fuck out of here."

SPIRIT

S - “So, what? He got off a boat and attacked the first person he saw? Cause how I heard it, he got jumped by Venatori the minute he stepped off, but now that lot’s gone off, and he’s still sitting here, beaten bloody.” P - "People aren't exactly lining up to date a man like me, and 's not like my looks or my personality is helping." I - "It's not stupid" Julien said, his smile warm now as he set the hand on his own shoulder, and slid his own hand down Tarquin's side, pulling him in by the small of his waist. R - "Release him to himself. You know you've got nothing, or you'd've charged him by now." I - "If I turned tail at every Venatori or highblood that gave me a look, Tarquin, I'd never stop running." T - Tarquin haltingly brought his hand up to cup Julien's face, a mirror at how Julien held his, and dragged his thumb over the rough drag of his stubble.

---

If you would like to do it, your word is ADMIT!

tagging: @juniper-and-dragonthorn @ofcrowsanddragons @bygonesigh @thedissonantverses @woundedsoul12 @librarydilf @sandcastlekings @jukkaricity @hyperions-light and anyone else who wants to do it! Tag me so I can read what you write!

[mycelliumelium]

Mr pope, come get ur freak, he's doing Things. I love tarquin. I love him a normal amount to love a fictional character. No tits, no ass, just audacity. Unmoisturized, acne, ink stained, eyebags. peak man.

[mycelliumelium]

Guards! Put this man in Situations.

[necromanticsoul]

Shadow Dragon Week - Day 7 - Free Day

thank you so much to the amazing mods @shadow-dragon-week who organized this week, created the prompts, and reblogged stuff. y'all are awesome.

Life after the game, with a little bit of happy ending

(Word count 912, also on AO3)

Rook leaned over the counter, reviewing contracts as Desmond reviewed his written inventory and current orders. The dwarf chewed on the end of his quill and Rook glanced up, lifting a brow at him. "What's wrong?"

Desmond glanced up, "How do you know something's wrong?"

The mage rolled her eyes, "I've been here enough times watching you take inventory that I know that expression, so what's up?"

Finding a new cover from the Shadow Dragon hideout, something unlike a pawnshop or something similar to help keep it secret from the Magisters and lingering Venatori, had taken time. They'd floated various ideas, apothecary, different kinds of shops, healers, but none of them quite provided the excuse they wanted to have additional room and storage space that a hideout would take up.

When Desmond had, a few months after joining the Shadows, suggested a brewery, Neve and Rook were intrigued by the idea. Desmond had learned the craft from his grandfather, so they would have a master brewer in place to make their cover legitimate. Other Shadows, both survivors from the siege, and new recruits, could be hired as workers to assist Desmond in running the brewery. The need for supplies, a place to actually brew beer, and people on hand during different times of day to oversee the process gave them the excuses they need to have a stream of different people in and out of the building that housed the brewery.

Maevaris and Ashur had quietly funded the purchase and setup with their private funds. It reminded Rook sometimes of how different a world Maevaris, Dorian, and Ashur came from than the rest of them.

Desmond sighed, "We're running low on certain potions, and the herbs to make them."

"Ah, so its a Shadows problem, not a brewery problem," Rook set the contract down. "That I can solve easily enough with a note to Treviso. The Crows should have what we need, or they can get it, and what they can't the Mourn Watch can."

"Maybe Neve should put you in charge of the Shadows inventory," Desmond suggested. "You've got enough pull."

Rook made a face. "I have enough pull, and enough notoriety that I can't do stealth jobs anymore either. " She held a hand out. "If you want me to deal with the Shadows inventory, you can focus on the brewery. We need you enough there to keep this place legitimate."

Desmond was happy to trade tasks with her, taking over reviewing the potential contract with the Lamplighter while Rook disappeared into the back and through a hidden door into the portion of the building that contained the Shadows new hideout.

She spent the next few hours reviewing inventory and making notes on what they needed. Shadows came and went, with Marisa overseeing feeding them and making note of any news they brought it. She set a tea mug for Rook on the table that Rook and Neve usually used as a desk.

It was well past dark when Ashur and Tarquin made it to the hideout, coming through an entrance from the catacombs. Most of the other Shadows had gone home by this point.

Neither man was particularly surprised to find Rook asleep at the table, head half pillowed on her arm, quill still in her hand, and drooling on a letter she'd started writing to the Mourn Watch requesting herbs.

"Well, that answers that question," Tarquin muttered, eying the sleeping mage. He shook Rook gently, "Come on, Rook, get up."

"Eh, mm?" Rook took a few moments to wake up, blinking blearily at the Templar.

"You've got drool on your face," Tarquin told her dryly.

She mechanically wiped the drool away with the back of her sleeve, eyes still half full of sleep.

"You fell asleep at the hideout, again," Ashur chuckled, smiling in amusement behind his mask.

"Come on, Desa, let's head home," Tarquin suggested as he pulled her top her feet.

Rook grumbled and stretched. "I can walk back to my apartment myself," she informed the Templar.

Ashur and Tarquin exchanged and glance.

"He wasn't talking about your apartment, Desa," the Viper advised. "He meant the manor."

Rook gave him an even look. "That's your home, and 'Quin's now. I live in Dock Town."

"And half your shit is already at the manor and you usually end up spending the night." Tarquin rolled his eyes. "Stop arguing and come home with us, Desa."

"I don't know that it's a good idea." Rook looked warily at them.

"Maker, stop being deliberately obtuse," Tarquin muttered.

Rook glanced between the two of them, saw the frustration in Tarquin's expression and earnestness in Ashur's, then sighed. "I suppose I can spend the night on your couch again. It's fairly comfortable."

"Is she doing this on purpose?" Tarquin demanded as he looked at Ashur.

"You haven't actually told her what it is we want," Ashur murmured to his lover. He reached out and took Rook's hand. "Desa, we want you to come home, with us, sleep with us, stay with us."

Desa stared at him.

"Venhedis," Tarquin swore. "We love you, Desa. Even when I was angry at you, that never stopped."

"Please come home, amata," Ashur added gently.

Rook trembled as she reached her hands towards them.

Ashur placed her hand in his, and Tarquin took her other, and gently, the Divine and his Knight Divine led their Rook from the the Shadows hideout, finally taking her home, where she belonged.

tags are for fun, let me know if you want on of off the list

@serialsforbellara @brennacedria @curiouswisp @tkwritesdumbassassins @juniper-and-dragonthorn @talkmagically @vixenofcadmea @nevarrantorte @madamemortem @davrinsleftpectoral @blackwall-my-tiny-husband @kogarashi-art @notyourmamasdeerbat @bonesandivy @gingervitus @operative-arrow @mageofquandrix @sorcerousadventurer @serensama @viagosbrother @handsignals @woundedsoul12 @babydinosaur930 @sandcastlekings

[necromanticsoul]

The cheers rose around them as each member of the Veilguard descended the blight stalk. Rook felt a tired smile tug at her bruised face as she stepped onto the paved street.

Her gaze flickered from person to person, feeling relief flood her mind when she saw Ashur, his eyes no longer red, at the edge of the barricades. Tarquin was just a few steps ahead of him, moving towards her.

Rook remembered the anger in Tarquin's eyes and venom in his voice when she'd saved Treviso first and not their own city. She saw no trace of those emotions now. Instead Tarquin wore a tired smile of relief as he walked towards her.

The muscles of her face hurt as she smiled. She felt the heaviness in her limbs. Blood felt wet and tacky against her skin where Elgar’nan had stabbed her with his red lyrium dagger.

She let out a sigh as she staggered forward and Tarquin's expression turned from relieved to worried. He caught her before she could fall.

Rook met his familiar brown eyes and smiled brightly. "Tarquin. Bring the Light."

Her body fell limp against him as she took one last small, shuttering breath.

Then she knew no more.

[necromanticsoul]

Tarquin: Why does Rook keep complimenting my bone structure. It's a little creepy

Dorian: Oh, that's Nevarrans for you. He's trying to flirt with you

Tarquin: What now?

Dorian: *smirking* Rook is flirting with you

Ashur: At least he doesn't keep telling you how anatomically accentuating your gloves are

Dorian: *dramatic sigh* You two are hopeless