#wiitsmh

[midandevil]

I couldn't utter my love when it counted. Ah, but I'm singing like a bird 'bout it now.

[midandevil]

What Is It That Stays My Hand?

Rook/Solas — Mature — Read on AO3

Rook believes in redemption; Solas is grim and fatalistic. He refuses to give in. She refuses to give up.

Tags: slowburn, enemies to lovers, eventual romance and smut, angst

This story takes place during the events of Dragon Age: The Veilguard.

—*Chapter One: Disrupt and Conquer*—

“Is that—? No… it can’t be…”

Cold air coils around Rook, biting at her ears as she sprints toward the ruins, her boots crunching heavily in the snow. Ahead, an elven man donning Mythal’s vallaslin addresses a crowd, his voice fractured by the wind—Spirits? Circle?—but the meaning is clear enough. Whatever he’s commanding, the elves hang on every word, their breath suspended in both air and anticipation.

As she nears, realisation hits her like a stone in her chest. Beside him, hands clasped behind his back, surveying the onlookers with practiced detachment, stands a figure she knows all too well.

Solas.

But something is… different. For one, he has hair. For another, there’s a strange uncertainty in the way he carries himself—a hesitation that feels unlike the man she’s unfortunately come to know.

Though his face is almost the same—the same etched lines of frustration, lips curved into a habitual scowl, his brow furrowed with equal parts determination and anguish—there’s an unfamiliar weight in his posture.

He shuffles slightly, kicking the snow at his feet. Then, as the man beside him addresses him, ‘Dread Wolf’, his hands curl into fists at his side. He turns to the crowd and his lavender eyes, soft in colour but always burning with hatred in her memory, now seem dull and detached, scanning the faces before him without truly seeing.

There’s no fury, no scorn—only cold indifference.

“The false gods, the Evanuris,” Solas booms, his voice every bit as commanding as his general’s. “They have overreached. I shall humble them.”

“We’re seeing the past—a memory!” Emmrich whispers at her side, his tone alive with fascination.

She forces a small, wry smile. “I figured. Pretty sure Solas hasn’t been able to call himself ‘humble’ in centuries.”

Bellara leans in, equally enraptured. “He must think we’re one of these spirits,” she murmurs, her voice vibrating with excitement.

Rook stays silent, cold dread gnawing at her. While her companions brim with curiosity, all she feels is a rising tide of nausea.

“Within their citadel lies a relic with the power to imprison even a god,” Solas continues, speaking over them. “With it, I can bring their tyranny to an end forever.”

Rook exhales sharply, the words like ice in her veins. She already knows how well this plan works out. Could she warn him? Could she tell this version of Fen’Harel that, in a thousand years or so, a hapless reject from the Mourn Watch would undo his work—freeing the Evanuris and plunging the world into chaos—all because he was dead set on destroying it?

Or, perhaps, she could tell him how that very same novice would be his only connection to the world and—in a cruel act of injustice and terrible luck—the only hope of putting things right. Even if he was insistent on acting like her life was created for the express purpose of ruining his.

She scoffs inwardly. He’d never listen. He’d probably laugh. When did Solas ever appreciate advice—or anything, for that matter?

Read more on AO3.

[midandevil]

With that dagger held unsheathed, I felt sick at my contempt. For you were lonely, you were like me. Like some outside force had sent me. If I was easy to kill, you would have done it already.

[midandevil]

Chapter three of ‘What Is It That Stays My Hand?’ is out, in which Rook and her companions travel to the labs below.

Stepping into the Lighthouse courtyard, Rook looks up at the statue of the Dread Wolf towering at its centre. Its presence commands awe, proud and protective, yet there’s something strangely comforting about it too. It watches over them all, she thinks, like a guardian surveying its pack. / And yet, her gaze lingers, and she wonders if she’s mistaken. Perhaps it doesn’t watch over them at all. Perhaps it’s simply waiting.

[midandevil]

😈 Formerly darkurgetrash 😈

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I'm Jessica and my multifandom brainrot is terminal. I do art and obsess over my fictional beloveds on the daily. 18+ only, minors dni! 🙅‍♀️

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Baldur’s Gate 3:

Rolan x Tav | E | Lead Me Through the Dark | Tagged Content | AO3

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Dragon Age: the Veilguard:

Rook/Solas | M | What Is It That Stays My Hand? | Tagged Content | AO3

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Lifeweaver/Moira | E | To Reverse Entropy, We Must Tame It | Tagged Content | AO3

Art Tag | GPOY Tag | ✨my beautiful ocs Opulentus and Emrys💕

[midandevil]

Chapter 15: Conversations in the Fade, is now up on ao3. We’re in our “everything is fine, no one is dead, solas definitely isn’t gonna betray her” era.

His closeness had ignited something within her—something grounding, and yet completely unravelling. She exhales softly, her fingers brushing over the edge of a vial on the shelf. Maker, what even is this feeling? For weeks, it’s been simmering under the surface—a connection between them she can’t fully explain, deeper than shared goals or mutual guilt. It’s not just about enjoying his company, though she does, immensely. It’s more than that. It’s as if her soul, as absurd as it sounds, yearns for his.

[midandevil]

Rook experiences another one of Solas’ memories in the Crossroads, but it raises more questions than answers… (and really fucks her up.) The angst arc continues in Chapter 23: The Wolf’s Call

She knows she should pull away, deny herself this moment, not let herself sink deeper into something that will only hurt her more. It would be the right thing to do—to resist the silent plea of her body, refuse him the satisfaction of earning even an ounce more of her sympathy. // She should not even want this. // But the battle within her is relentless—grief, fury, unbearable longing—a storm that refuses to quiet, or let her go. For a moment, she isn’t sure which part of her is winning. // And then, her heart betrays her.

[midandevil]

What Is It That Stays My Hand?

Chapter 10: The Siege of Weisshaupt is out now. Rook may be starting to *Kylie Jenner voice* realise things. 

She aches for Solas—for his guilt, his regrets, the unbearable weight he carries that she’s only now beginning to see. The urge to reach for him rises in her chest like a wisp into a vessel; to hug him, to pull him close, to assure him with a touch that she will not fail, no matter what. // But the courage falters before it can take root. Her arms remain at her sides, heavy with the weight of her own uncertainty. // She’s not brave enough, not yet.