Calling out to all the Veil's guardians!! Whatever your preferred faction, whoever your fave companion is, and whichever NPCs you'd choose to fight alongside, we'd love to see the adoration you have for Dragon Age: The Veilguard!
This spring, come join us in celebrating the latest edition to the Dragon Age saga!! Bring your Rooks, your ships, and that sense of creativity! We can't wait to see you there!
Itâs late but this one just didnât want to get on the page, but it finally got written despite it going well sideways several times (these characters do not want to listen to me they just veer off in their own direction so often and Iâm just along for the ride lol)
Day 6 of Veilguard appreciation week: Minrathous | Justice | You know I think you might be trouble.
Zalan didnât save Minrathous and on one of the many visits afterwards decides to do something about it.
Set a little after Weisshaupt but before the cobbled swan case
The loud cacophony of sounds from the throngs of people; half of which were gossiping and half hawking their wares to the lapping of waves and noise coming from the docks was already a lot on the senses. Mixing that with the overwhelming mix of smells from the harbor, the steam and smoke from buildings, all the various foods and spices in the market, and the smell of too many rain wet bodies together was a disaster to anyoneâs senses.
Zalan was no exception as he and Harding hunched lower in their hidden spot on a rooftop watching a stall down below. He wrinkled his nose at the, well everything, and pulled his shoulders up closer to his ears as more raindrops soaked through his hood to his head.
Harding was slightly more dry, the tarp serving as an overhang for the shops below not as worn or slashed on her side. But he had insisted she sit there when they had settled in, her archery skills were better than his, if they needed any kind of cover fire it would have to be her and he wouldnât risk water in her eyes or messing up her bow if he could help it.
But even she looked damp from the misting drizzle of rain ever coming down in the city.
âSee Neve yet?â He asked but it sounded on the verge of whiny even to his own ears.
With the shadow dragonâs in hiding after the massacres Neve had been taking more errand runs for them and Zalan, feeling more and more guilty for the resistance groupâs predicament, always volunteered to take on more missions for them with her.
Neve had assigned them to watch a stall that was a front for a blood mage that liked to sell to the venatori. She was tailing a runner who was supposed to be picking up an order of Venatori crystals. They were supposed to wait for her signal and then follow him and make sure whoever was at the drop site didnât make it out alive.
Which sounded easy enough in theory to the crow. But apparently the detective was running late. Or sheâd been spotted. His skin crawled at that thought but he dismissed it. Even in hiding he was sure at least one Shadow was following Neve if she wanted one or not.
Lace sighed from her crouched position, her own hood pulled up and cape tugged around her like a blanket keeping her dry and hopefully warm. She shook her head in answer to his question and he watched her head swivel back and forth as she scanned the market again.
He followed along with her, scanning the faces and trying to read lips as his gaze flitted around. But he stalled on one of the gallows littered around the city. Bodies still swayed there, the same ones from last time he presumed but he realized he usually skirted around them when he was there, trying not to look too long- never wanting to recognize any of the Dragonâs heâd met before the dragon attack. He wasnât sure he would know if the people hanging had been changed out or if they were just the same ones being left to rot.
The thought stalled and sat there, heavy in his brain as he forced himself to look now, taking in their outfits and wondering if heâd seen them around the hideout before. The uncomfortable thought tumbled around and he hated it so much, briefly thinking if it had been his city like this how much it would hurt.
His body tensed and the thought decided something for him. He knew the night life here was even now still active, it wouldnât be quiet everywhere but heâd ask Neve for a set of robes so heâd be less recognizable at night.
He could sneak, quiet on his own, through the city and do what he should have done after the first few times back in Dock Town with Neve and show the dead the honor they deserved. He could cut them all down. It would be work, heavy lifting- not something his slight acrobatic frame was suited to. But he could do it. For Lorelei, for Bren.
Harding shoved him, gesturing down below and knocking him out of his thoughts and down to Neve.
Shifting his feet, coiling his body to spring he jumped up pulling himself to the roof above while Harding kept an eye out and as soon as Neveâs guy left the stall with a large paper wrapped package the three were off scampering after the cultist.
//
Wiping off the blood from his blades heâd told Neve his idea. He wasnât sure if she disapproved or if she just thought he was crazy enough to pull it off.
Harding protested, saying it was dangerous to go alone. But he didnât want to risk it with more people. Neve scoffed at him but agreed with Harding. However she took his little plot one step further and said if he could get the bodies down she could have some Shadows come to help, they could get the bodies to the catacombs faster with a handful of people.
Zalan had a feeling that she wasnât going to let him get away with anything less than that as far as help and after a long pause where they stared each other down he sighed and acquiesced.
She said she would send word and they could all meet back here tonight. Harding eagerly nodded, looking relieved to not be letting the crow come alone or at not being left behind, he wasnât sure. He knew the deaths weighed on everyone in the team. He hoped this would help in some way, even if it was just to remind Dock Town that there were some descent people out there.
//
Turns out the rain was almost worse in the dark. And for some reason, which Zalan couldnât comprehend, a lot of the Shadow Dragonâs robes seemed to be without an important feature- a hood.
Neve handed him a hat, similar to that of the Viperâs but less vibrant and much more worn and he reluctantly tried it on and then wondered if he could claim it hindered his sight too much to avoid wearing it.
But Harding giggled even as the corners of his mouth twisted and she innocently told him he looked very handsome in it while her eyes absolutely twinkled in mischief. Which meant he couldnât take it off now, her getting joy from it meant too much and he let out a resigned puff of air and left it on his head even with Neve quirking an eyebrow at him. The observant detective surely picking up on everything.
Looking at Neve he had a feeling she would be teasing him about this later but he didnât say anything and instead looked around at the tiny amount of Shadow Dragons gathered around the desolate alleyway. Harding was standing with two people off to the side, they all had bows and he knew theyâd be climbing up to the rooftops as soon as he and the ground team headed out. He could rely on her keeping an eye on him and having his back once again. She had turned and was talking to one of the other archers her face turning serious once again and he caught Neve smirking at him out of the corner of his eye and turned back to her, ignoring how his ears felt warm.
âAre you coming with me or are you part of the transfer team?â He tried to shake it off, back to business as usual and she put a hand on her hip, her face too turning back to serious as they readied to go.
âIâll be with you, I know these streets better than anyone and we need to move as quickly as possible from one location to the next.â She signaled to the three people sheâd brought as a ground team and they melted off into the darkness getting ready at the first gallows.
The archers were already climbing up to the roof and shaking out his hands Rook got into position and Neve gave the word and they were off.
The area she chose to start with was quiet, the bustle from the day was gone and Zalan and Neve silently climbed onto the scaffolding, both using small sharp blades to cut the dead free.
Two Shadowâs seemed to just appear below them and they handed the bodies down and then they were off, running them to the tunnels under the city to keep them from prying eyes until their mission was finished.
Neve and Zalan crouched low under the platform for a moment making sure the coast was clear before neve waved a hand and the two took off down alleyways. Behind them he could hear the steady thwack noise of arrows hitting wood and turning to look over his shoulder once he could see fire, burning hot and magic bright engulfing the structure.
As Neve led them to the next mark they could hear the raised voices of the Templarâs being deployed to the scene of the crime. Harding would keep them busy while they continued with the mission.
It wasnât easy work but Zalan and Neve would run until they were nearly panting, arrive at one of the platforms and clamber on, cut down the bodies, hand them off to whichever of the ground team got there first and then move on. The two remaining archers were positioning themselves as close as they could to as many structures as they could but would be waiting until almost all the bodies were recovered before lighting anything else on fire. They didnât need the city guard realizing what they were doing and trying to stop them by going to the ones still intact.
Grueling would be a good word for it, and Zalan found himself startling at any sound, worried the Templars would catch up to them or even just stumble into their little group by accident. He was sweating and cold from the rain as he handed over the last body to the Shadow and watched them run off.
Neve was no better beside him, her hair plastered to her face and the bun beginning to slip from itâs place.
Across the square where they stood he could see fires begin cropping up as the archers started their part. Neve was already heading off towards the catacombs herself but Zalan still needed to make one last run through the city.
He didnât look like Ashur. Not really. But with the cape and the hat he figured thatâs who the guards and townsfolk who spotted him would think he was as he flashed through the darkness.
A Templarâs voice yelled at him and he waved, pulling up a mask over his nose and more fires began flaring up at the gallows he stood at, lighting him up from behind before he took off, cape trailing behind him almost reminiscent of his his own Crow outfit.
They gave chase as planned and he hurried, twisting and turning down the path that Neve had laid out for him, hoping he could follow the map in his head through the town as the Shadowâs up on the roof ran from point to point, shooting off magic arrows, bursting the scaffolding into flame.
He got turned around once but heâd gone through most of the route so when he found himself at a dead end alley he figured he could veer from the plan. The guards were catching up and he was working on finding a way to scale the building when the first Templar rounded the corner. His sword was already out and Zalan cursed low under his breath, his own weapons had been left at home and he only had a few little knives on him.
Readying himself to dodge the whistle of an arrow reached his ears moments before the guard dropped to the ground, dead at Zalanâs feet. An arrow sticking out of the vulnerable point between helmet and armor.
Harding.
He looked up but couldnât see anything but gave an appreciative little wave before flinging himself up the window ledges and canopy frames and any little handholds he could find to propel himself to the roof.
Not seeing her but knowing she was nearby he ran across a few rooftops before heading towards the rendezvous spot, jumping between rooftops. The dwarf joined him shortly, running alongside him, her eyes constantly flickering to the streets below keeping an eye out for trouble.
âThanks Harding, I knew you couldnât take your eyes off me.â The lighthearted flirt rolled off his tongue but this time the smile that accompanied it softened when he threw her a glance.
It was hard to tell through the rain but he was pretty sure she was blushing faintly. But it could have been all the running. She only snorted and shook her head.
Landing on the next roof Neve popped up and waved them over and the three crouched, fires burning below.
âWell look who made it. Close call out there.â She was making a disapproving face but Zalan knew she was worried deep down, and probably thought he was stupid but that might have been fair based on his inability to follow maps.
âGot the job done and no one caught me thatâs the important part.â He added a casual shrug and she rolled her eyes and nodded down at the square.
âWe got the bodies down to the catacombs, the Dragonâs are appreciative of our work tonight. Itâs not justice but itâll give some people closure and thatâs not nothing.â
The trio watched the gallows burn while Templars ran around trying to put out fires in vain for a few more minutes before they made their way back to the eluvian and headed home, the warmth of the lighthouse waiting for them.
The city might erect more gallows the next day or the week after but it would slow them down. It would let the people know the Shadows were still out there. Neve was correct, it was something. Believing the Viper was out there, that the Shadow Dragons hadnât given up would give them hope.
It's done. I've finished all of my works for Veilguard Appreciation Week. Varric for day seven is a fine ending, even though I wasn't at all sure what I would end up doing for the last day. Now I can focus on something else for a change.
Written for @veilguard-appreciation-week, day seven!!! A short codex entry I wrote for the final day, so happy I finished all of these!
Prompts:Â The Lighthouse, Valour, "We could continue this in the morning?"
Summary: Arlisell's observations on the Lighthouse.
Characters: None technically
You can also read this on Ao3!
(A note in Arlisell's journal on observations about the lighthouse; the date is unclear. Doodles dot the paper surrounding the scribbled text.)
This place is peculiar; I have never seen anything like it. Rooms can appear out of nowhere, much like the Necropolis rearranging itself at will, but that is where the similarities end. There is no cycle of time, the brightness of the fade shining no matter the time of day, the stove is running on some sort of magical energy, and perhaps the strangest of all, a simple desire is enough to conjure things here.
Just the other day, I had been longing for my paints that I had left back in my quarters at the Necropolis before I set out with Varric. I left the room to have a chat with Emmrich and by the time I returned there was a pile of blank books and painting supplies sitting on the table. Lace reported a similar incident with the plants in her room. I wonder what the purpose of this is, and where it is coming from.
This place used to belong to Solas, perhaps that has something to do with it?
I'm not sure, but I will have to compare my notes with Bellara and Emmrich. I suspect there is more to this place than we know.
Mae for day six of Veilguard Appreciation Week. I have no reason, I just wanted to draw her. One more day left after this so it would be a waste to not complete it, even if it's a week late. So it'll come at some point next week.
Prompt: THE LIGHTHOUSE/VALOR/WE COULD CONTINUE THIS IN THE MORNING?
Summary: Rook and Neve talk about Wisps and Coffee
Word Count: 1,261
Read on AO3
There were many things about Solas that Rook had come to hate. Not the least of these was the fact that despite claiming to be full of regret, he never seemed to change.Â
But, they had to admit that the Lighthouse was wonderful. It looked new and unravaged by time, despite the fact that Rook instinctively knew from the moment that they had woken up in the infirmary next to Varric that it was very very very very old. It was older in fact than some of the deeper parts of the necropolis.Â
If Arlathan was asleep. The Necropolis was alive an active. The Lighthouse was still giant there, eyes open and watching and watchful but largely benevolent.Â
It sat surrounded by an archipelago of islands that floated in the fade and Rook wondered if it had always floated or if something else had happened when Solas created the veil that had severed mountain tops and island peaks that still believed that they had something below them.
The Caretaker Spirit tasted of a fruit and an herb that they couldnât identify, he was helpful and kind, and seemed more relaxed after their Mana-Mania led them to tear through the crossroads like if they didnât expel as much magic as possible they would explode.
Taash and Harding were saints for keeping up with them.
The Caretaker and Spite werenât even the only spirts in the lighthouse. From the older ones that were incorporeal that Rook only was able to notice from the phantom tastes that appeared as they walked to the wisps that floated around and greeted them as they passed the place was full of them. Â
The only places where Spirits tended not to linger were Rookâs room which the assumed was because it had been Solasâs room, and the kitchen which Rook knew was because Spite did not like other Spirits near his host and tended to get aggressive about it.
Rook was pleasantly surprised that he tolerated Manfred the way he did. But who wouldnât.
The incorporial spirits tended to flock to Emmrichâs room and the wisps tended to flock to Neveâs. Neveâs wisps were curious and sweet except when they somehow found one of their childhood drawings to show to their friends in which case they were mischievous bastards.
Rook tried to make it a point to talk make the rounds talking to each of the crew to see if they needed anything even if it was just to talk.Â
And in the case of Bellara, Neve, Lucanis, and sometimes Harding, trying to fight what was almost always a losing battle to get them to go to sleep.Â
Rook approached Neveâs little section of the fade, a floating room that had manifested a desk and a cork board and a seemingly endless amount of tacks and yard.
âCome in Rook,â
Neve called out as Rook stood in front of the door. They entered. A wisp of Valor floated around their head once and then twice, and then moved back to making lazy orbits around the Detective. The woman hadnât looked up whatever case she was piecing together. Rook wondered if it was something related to Aelia.Â
âHow could you tell it was me?â Rook asked, âI could have been Bellara.â
âYour footsteps are too quiet.â
âLucanis?â
âThe wisps are too calmâ Neve asked. âDonât know why theyâre following me around and not you.â
Rook breathed through their mouth for a moment. âWho can say. It makes sense that theyâd like you seeing as youâre wellââ
âIâm well?â
âWell, you.â
âWhatâs that mean?â
âYouâre a powerful human Tevene mage who could easily have climbed the social ladder into being someone ruthless and in control. And instead, you work out of Dock Town helping people in need and going after blood mages. Of course spirits of Compassion, Valor, Justice, and Curiosity are going to be drawn to you. You feelâ â Rook twitched their fingers, trying to find the specific word.
âYou feel dangerous, but safe? Thatâs not tomention the fact that spiritsâ
Mortal languages have so few words compared to the way spirit just knew was complicated. Trying to translate spirit concepts in mortal words always felt clunky and blunt.Â
âYou can hurt people, but you wonât hurt them, you donât hurt people who donât hurt? They know how you keep people safe, and considering how many blood mages in Dock Town youâve taken out, youâve probably saved some Spirits as well.â
âDid these guys follow me from Dock Town?â Neve asked.
âOh.â Rook looked carefully at the glowing balls of light. âIâm not sure.â
âYou can talk to spirits can you?âÂ
âI can understand them.â Rook replied, âBut Spirits arenât typically great at understanding physical space orâ spaces. I could ask, but I donât think that theyâdââ
A wisp hummed and bounced up and down above Neveâs head.Â
âHuh.â Rook looked up, âI think that one did.â
âAnd they would beââ Basil and Honey, âValor.â
âAny idea how to keep Valor and his friends from running off with my notes?â
âIf you can figure out a way to wisp proof your office and write down the steps you took in NPA format, youâll be admitted to the Grand Necropolis as a senior member of the Mourn Watch no questions asked.â
âThat bad?â
âThey stay away from lit candles and dangerous things for the most partââ
âBut they canât keep their hands off papers.â Neve finished.
âI think they think theyâre helping. They see you moving papers aroundââ
âAnd they think thatâs how you solve cases.â
âItâs kind of adorable.â Rook smiled as Compassion floated above their head.
âAdorableââ
âSure. I wonder if the little guys will try making you coffee next.â
âDonât give them any ideas.â
âI donât think they could make anything worse that yours.â
âYou donât even drink coffee.â
âI donât need to drink coffee to know what itâs supposed to look like when you pour it. Itâs not meant to be viscous. If I didnât know better, Iâd think you made your coffee bad on purpose so that Lucanis would make if for you. Speaking of Lucanis, he made that coffee in that mug youâve been sipping on, didnât he.â
âYou can you tell?â
âYouâre drinking it slowly instead of trying to get it into your system before your taste buds realized what happendâ
âMaybe Iâm used to the taste?â
âAll members of the Watcher are required to know how to perform autopsies and prepare a body for emballment. Part of the process involves draining the body of blood and other fluids in order to slow decomposition, Your coffee is thick like that.â
âSeems fitting that as much coffee as I drink it would find itâs way into my veins.â
âMore like your kidneys.â
Neve took out an empty cup and filled it with ice. She held the cup out to Rook, who with a wave of their hand, melted the contents, and then chilled the tepid liquid with a snap. The detective tossed it back.
âThere, water drunk. Are you happy?â
âImmensely.â Rook nodded and then turned to leave. Neve stopped them.
âWas this whole conversation part of a scheme to get you to drink more water?â
âI came by to check in on you and to see if you needed anything. And to ask you to please get some sleep.â
Neve laughed. âFine Rook, you win. Iâll see you in the morning. Iâve got some people Iâm meeting with in Dock Town later. Are you coming with?â
A super late exploration of the conversation Elgar'nan and Ghilan'nain might've had while preparing for the double attacks on Minrathous and Treviso for @veilguard-appreciation-week.
I daresay it's also bittersweet, perhaps like a kiss goodbye? But I didn't think I'd gotten enough of that prompt in to count it.
You can also read this on Ao3 here!!
Rating: T
Word-count: 1886
âThe pieces are on the board,â Elgarânan said, nudging a small carved figure across the enormous map of Thedas that he had spread out across the table. âThe game is set. Itâs our move.â
âCareful, brother,â Ghilanânain said sweetly, gliding past him on writhing tentacles, running a gentle hand across the back of his shoulders as she moved by to take her place across from him. âToo many chess metaphors, and I might start to believe Iâve taken up with the Dreadwolf.â
The glare Elgarânan shot her couldâve melted stone. Her eyesight wasnât the best, and at this distance she was mostly guessing at his facial expressions, but sheâd spent centuries locked in a prison with this man, and several more before that helping him strategise with their siblings. She trusted she knew his moods well.
âFenâHarel,â Elgarânan spat the name, âdid not invent chess.â
Ghilanânain clasped her upper arms politely behind her back, and bent forward to rest her lower hands upon the tableâs edge. âAnd yet heâs a pawn named Rook. Isnât it funny how these things go?â
âYou are fortunate that I am so fond of you,â Elgarânan said with a sigh. He sounded tired, but when didnât he these days? âYou are able to get away with things Iâd not dare let anyone else.â
âHave you not heard the stories? Iâm the godsâ favourite.â
âAndruilâs, perhaps.â
Her belovedâs name hit her like a dagger, but she tried her best to remain composed. âCome now,â she said lightly. âThereâs no-one else present. You can admit it to me, dear brother.â
Elgarânan was silent for a moment. Pensive. Head bowed slightly, eyes staring at nothing in particular, and Ghilanânain wondered if he was thinking of Andruil, too. Her toothy grin and her barking laugh. Sheâd make a far better partner in taking the world back, to be sure. War was her strength, it had never been her own.
âWhatever happens, Ghilanânain,â Elgarânan said eventually, lifting his head and doing his best to meet her eyes. âI shall do my utmost not to leave you alone.â
She sucked in a breath as salty tears gathered at the corners of her eyes. Due to the violent nature of her blindness, the blight that consumed her, crying was a painful experience. It stung. She slid a hand across the table towards him, and Elgarânan reached out to take it without hesitation, lacing his fingers through hers instinctively.
âThe Venatori are ready to make their move on Minrathous,â he said. âIf we just provide them with a distraction.â He rested a finger atop a small stone figure. If Ghilanânain dipped her head closer, she thought she could make out wings. A dragon, perhaps, or an archdemon.
She missed Razikale.
Sniffling, blinking her tears away behind her golden mask, Ghilanânain nodded in agreement. She had had time to grieve. She would have forever to do so some more, later. But for now. For now, she needed to be a god. âYouâve your pick of Seartooth or Corius.â
âI fear Seartooth is the obvious choice,â Elgarânan said, and she could hear the smile in his voice as he raised his free hand, conjuring a small fireball in his palm for emphasis.
âThen I shall have Corius attack Treviso at the same time. A double-pronged attack.â
The fireball vanished, and Elgarânan grew serious once more. âI do not think you should attack Treviso outright just yet. Your role would simply be to send one of your other dragons to Antiva City, so that Solasâ little Rook will hesitate between the two- hopefully long enough to give the Venatori ample chance to establish a decent foothold.â
Ghilanânain hummed thoughtfully. âBut I have such plans for Treviso.â
âThe Antaam are not yet ready for them, sister.â
âThen itâs just as well that my plans do not yet involve them.â Placing a finger on the map, Ghilanânain bent her head low, the nose of her mask skimming the parchment as she traced across half-familiar landscapes until she eventually reached Antiva. âI would blight it,â she announced triumphantly, and waited for Elgarânan to congratulate her on how brilliant she was.
He waited a moment too long, and she twisted her head up to face him expectantly.
âIf weâre to blight somewhere in Antiva, surely the capital would make more sense,â he said eventually.
Ghilanânain sighed, straightening back up to her full height. She towered over him, now. She never used to, but now she towered over everybody. âTreviso has the canals-â
â-the canals,â Elgarânan finished her sentence alongside her.
âThey will work just like veins, I am sure,â Ghilanânain explained. âThey will carry the blight throughout the city, right up to its beating heart- the Cantori Diamond. And, lest we forget, I control the blight. So if Treviso is blightedâŠâ she trailed off.
â⊠Then we control Treviso,â Elgarânan concluded pensively, his eyes darting across the map as his mind worked to incorporate this new information into his overall strategy. âYes. That could work.â He glanced up at her. âYou are devious.â
Ghilanânain preened beneath his praise. âI do try.â
Elgarânan walked two fingers over the map thoughtfully, working his way slowly up towards Treviso. âThere is, of course, the risk that you will blight the Antaam. I thought you wanted to wait before moving forward with your intentions for them.â
âSome losses are inevitable. I will warn them to steer clear beforehand, but you know that just being in proximity to the blight has its risks.â
âPerhaps we should move our plans for them forward slightly, thenâŠâ
But Ghilanânan shook her head. âNo. Weâve a more solid foundation with the Venatori, and the Shadow Dragons are nothing in comparison to them. Treviso, on the other hand, is quite loyal to its Crows still. The Antaam do not yet inspire the same devotion.â
âI am unsure theyâre ever likely to, either.â
She pinched her lips together. âPsychology is your domain, brother, I am a biologist at heart. I am guessing here. I do not know their minds.â
He squeezed her hand. âYou are doing a tremendous job,â he assured her. âNo, I fear the hearts of the people in Treviso will be harder to win over. But if we go ahead with your proposed plan- if we blight its heart- then perhaps, in time, they will be so worn down that they will accept any offer. Say, if a handsome god were to swoop in and offer to make all their problems go away in exchange for their co-operation...â
âIâd no idea Solas was working with us now.â
âGhilanânain.â
âI apologise. You make this far too easy for me.â
Elgarânan rubbed his brow with his free hand. Oh, he was definitely wishing heâd been left with one of the others. Juneâs quick mind, Sylaiseâs inventions, would both be more use to him now than her teasing. No-one had ever been able to weave the blight like she could, which she knew provided him with a significant advantage; but he was definitely weighing up the cost of that, now.
âEverything has fallen to pieces,â Elgarânan said, voice strained. âOur cities are in ruins, if any part of them remains at all. The people cluster in groups that make no sense to me, based on geographical location and little else. Only a fraction of the population have magic, and Solasâ Veil has made even that wrong.â
âWe will fix it,â Ghilanânain promised. It was her turn to comfort him, now, and she settled another hand around his, squeezing gently with the both of them. âWe will restore it to what it was. We will create a world that our siblings would be proud of.â
She heard the half-hearted attempt at a smile in the tinge it lent his voice. âWe will. Together.â
ââTis what they would want of us.â
She slipped around the table to pull him into a hug, arms and tentacles all, and smiled into the crown of his head as she felt him return the gesture.
Pulling away from him only slightly, Ghilanânain placed one hand down atop the map, roughly where she suspected Antiva must be. âSo, which city are we renaming after my beloved?â She was only half-joking.
Elgarânanâs laugh was watery, but real. âYouâve your pick of anywhere, sister.â
She traced a path, from Treviso outward to the blue expanse of the ocean, towards the lab her partner had had built for her beneath the waves. Now a prison. She was amazed it still stood at all. A testament to Sylaiseâs architectural skills and Juneâs engineering.
âYou know my choice,â she said softly.
Elgarânan took one of her tentacles in his hands, patted it affectionately. âShe would be proud of your decision.â
âYou may visit me in the beautiful home I shall have erected.â She lifted her chin haughtily, and pretended it was enough to hide the way her voice trembled. âIn Andruiliso.â
âA catching name, to be sure.â She could hear the smile in his voice. âI think Iâll take the Archonâs palace. It would be fitting, since Minrathous already touts itself as the seat of the Maker's chosen. I would have the true All-Father govern from it, as opposed to some unqualified politician.â
This drew a startled laugh from her companion. âWe will make sure that is next on our agenda. First, Venatori in Minrathous, blight in Treviso. Then we will free our archdemons.â
âDo you think she has missed me?â
âI am certain she has.â
Ghilanânain was sure she had, too. Centuries upon centuries spent locked away underground, waiting for a blight that would have killed them both painfully, knowing she had no other chance at freedom. Well, mercifully her mother was home now. Or, she was building a home, anew. Razikale could be safe, and happy, and free.
âLusacan can only bolster our influence with the Venatori,â Elgarânan said, already back to strategising. He twisted in her grasp to face his map head-on, and raised a hand to his chin as he considered. âNo. He shall have to wait until after. The timing is too good just now.â Then; âIf we focus our ire on Minrathousâ poorest district, it would hit the morale of Rookâs little detective quite hard. I believe that is where she grew up.â
âYou do realise that we cannot see both plans through to completion?â Ghilanânain said. âSolasâ Rook will hear of them. Theyâve companions from both Treviso and Minrathous who would seek their aid. Their certain delay will provide us opportunity, but in the end they will save one or the other.â
âThe point of a double-pronged attack is rarely to capture two places,â Elgarânan reminded her.
âBut the hope that will swell in whichever place they choose to save would be inconvenient to our plans.â
âAh, but the despair in the other,â Elgarânan insisted. âWe are immortal, dear sister. We will outlast them.â
âAnother reason to have our archdemons brought to us at the earliest opportunity,â Ghilanânain concluded. âI would feel safer if Razikale was within my reach.â
Elgarânan patted a tentacle. âSoon, daâlen.â
This was written for day six of @veilguard-appreciation-week! Very very late, but I finally managed to get it done and posted, day seven will be finished and posted by the end of the day.
Prompts: Day Six - Minrathous, Justice, "You know, I think you might be trouble."
Summary: Unfair as she knew her anger was, a part of her still felt justified in it.
Making their way through the bustling streets of Minrathous, Harding and Arlisell had scarcely spoke since the left the Lighthouse. The idea of meeting the Inquisitor was nerve-wracking. Arlisell didn't know much about the Inquisitor herself, or the Inquisition as a whole really, beyond the stories and memories that Varric would reminise upon on occasion. She had been but a child of fifteen when the chaos surrounding the Conclave broke out; the Breach, the rifts, Solas. There had been murmurs in the Necropolis about what was going on in Southern Thedas, naturally, and there had been an uptick in discontented spirits and reports of possessions further afield. Arilisell was a teenager, though, and as such she paid no mind to talk of the Inquisition at the time, instead focusing on the much more interesting topic of her apprentice studies.
That she would soon find herself speaking to the woman who was at the heart of this when it all started? Well, it was a daunting prospect, to say the least.
It's just that, maybe just a little, just a tiny little bit, Arlisell was angry with the Inquisitor. Something that she intended to mask when they meet, or she hoped to at least. Her anger was the product of various incidences, the main two being her involvement with Solas as well as the distinct lack of her presence over the last year they had been searching for Solas. That this responsibility was unwantedly thrust upon her, this responsibility to clean up a mess that somebody else started. It was extremely vexing. So yes, she was angry at the Inquisitor.
It was unfair of Arlisell to be angry at her, she knew this, but it was difficult for her to reconcile with the fact of her current situation; leading a rag-tag group of people trying to stop two of the literal elven gods from destroying the world. A job that certainly seemed more suited to one that had dealt with something world-ending once before, no? Unfair as she knew her anger was, a part of her still felt justified in it.
Despite her reservations about the woman, Arlisell still wanted to hear her out. She was perhaps one of the only people who would understand the predicament that she had found herself in, and beyond that, she simply wished to give her a chance. She didn't want her preconceived emotions to fuel her in a meeting as important as this one, a practice that she was well acquainted with from her time in the Mourn Watch.
Finally arriving at the entrance of the Cobbled Swan, she stopped for a moment, looking to the sky and taking a breath. Hopefully, the Inquisitor would have some kind of information that would be useful for them, and maybe they could squeeze in a personal conversation so she could ask her some questions about being a leader. An unexpected one at that; something that Inquisitor Lavellan and she definitely had in common if nothing else.
Steeling her nerves, she indicated to Harding that she was ready to go, and together they entered the eerily empty pub, ready to meet this woman that Varric had thought so highly of.
Taken during the mission 'Blood of Arlathan' in the location, 'Arlathan crater'. For a very late day five of @veilguard-appreciation-week! I really couldn't think of a fic premise for this day so I decided on sharing one of my screenshots that matches the prompt instead :)
Prompts: Day Five - Arlathan Forest, Wisdom, "Sorry! Just breaking things!"
I'm probably going to notice around a million mistakes in this later but I'm happy with this for now. I'm slowly trying to post the rest of my Veilguard Appreciation Week pieces (two left) but once again, I've been busy and will be busy for the rest of the week. So we'll see how quickly that happens. But anyway, here's Strife for day five.
We'd like to say a great, big THANK YOU to everyone who participated in the first ever Veilguard Appreciation Week!!!
You've filled our dashes with so many wonderful fics, so much beautiful artwork, the most thoughtfully compiled screenshots and gifsets, and even physical crafts!! We've been so excited to see each and every new piece, and we're so so thrilled that you decided to share them with us <3
Thank you, also, to every single person who has supported this week!! Everyone who has liked posts, shared them, left comments for the creators! These things are all so incredibly important in fandom, and we're so thankful for each and every one of you.
If you missed this week, or didn't quite finish up everything you wanted to share in time, we'll continue reblogging your creations here until 13/04! We'll also keep the Ao3 collection open until then, too. (We've already got over 50 fics in there which is incredible!!!!)
We'll be making a compilation post once everything closes so that people can navigate the tags we used on this blog more easily, so keep an eye out for that! But in the mean-time, once again, thank you!!! You guys made this week such a success, and it has been an honour to be your mods <3
Veilguard Appreciation Week Day 7: Can we continue this in the morning? (Two times people woke Rook up and one time they let her sleep)
This was so much fun to do! This one takes place through out the game but only mild plot spoilers. Enjoy!
@anderfels
Zea Laidir rubbed her neck as she walked into her room and sat down on the chaise lounge. It had been a long mission in Arlathan and she was more than ready to catch up on her sleep. Stifling a yawn, she laid down and felt like sheâd just fallen asleep when a loud pounding startled her awake. Eyes flying open she automatically reached for the dagger underneath her pillow as she scrambled up, but her hand closed on empty air and it took a few seconds for her still sleeping brain to remember where she was.
âRook!â Bellaraâs muffled voice came through the heavy wooden door. âRook!â
Zea pressed a hand to the silk wrapped around her hair as she padded towards the door. Opening it, she leaned against the thick oak while asking, âWhatâs going on?â
âI think I figured it out!â Bellara said excitedly, her face breaking into a smile.
âFigured what out?â
âWhy it always seems to be light here in the Fade!â
Zea tried to follow the elf as she launched into an explanation about fade distortions and constant points but it all went in one ear and out the other. Clearing her throat, she interjected when Bellara paused to take a breath. âBellara?â
âYes?â
âDo you think we could continue this in the morning? OrâŠat a later time?âÂ
She hated to be rude, since it was clear that Bellara had put in a lot of effort and thought into the problem, but at the same time she figured that falling asleep while standing up was even worse than interrupting.Â
Bellara looked at Zea as the other woman stifled a yawn, her eyes struggling to stay open. âOh!â Bellara exclaimed, feeling her face heat up with embarrassment. âIâm sorry! I just think Iâd figured it out and wanted to share. I should have realized that you were so tired after Arlathan and-â
âBels.â Zea calmly interrupted again, putting a hand on Bellaraâs arm to reassure the elf. âItâs okay, I just canât follow it all right now. But I am interested.â
âOkay. Maybe over breakfast then?â
âHow about lunch?â
âSounds great!â
Gently shutting the door as Bellara left, Zea leaned against it for a few seconds before pushing herself off and shuffling back towards the chaise.
--
2. Lucanis stared at the state of the dining room; furniture and boxes strewn about, cobwebs hanging from the chandelier and every which way, supplies scattered about- and ran a hand through his hair.
âMierda, this is a mess.â he thought, wondering how the others had cooked in such disarray. âThe only thing that seems to be in order is the stove and countertops. At least thereâs that.â
Taking off his jacket and carefully laying it on the thin mattress that was shoved in the back of the pantry, he then unbuttoned his sleeves and rolled them up.Â
âFirst things first, some coffee and then we start cleaning.â he said out loud to himself, putting his hands on his hips while breaking the silence that had descended onto the Lighthouse as everyone else tried to get some sleep in the light that never seemed to go away. Bellara had tried to explain it to him, but it had been a bit past his own understanding so he just nodded in what seemed like the right places.
Measuring out the coffee beans, he set to work grinding them while water boiled on the stove. It had to be strong enough to keep him awake so Spite didnât have a chance to take over.
â
Zea startled awake and instantly sat up, wondering what was happening. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes she strained her ears to figure out what was going on but there was only silence. âMust of just been a dream.â she thought while laying back down, resettling herself before trying to go back to sleep.
She was on the edge of slipping into the Fade again when there was a pounding at her door.
âRook!â
Rapidly sitting up again, Zea swung her feet onto the floor and stood- shuffling to the door, opening to see Lucanis standing on the other side. â...Is everything alright?â she asked, slightly hesitating because the Crow lookedâŠjittery and wasnât sure if that was a good thing or not.
âYou have smuggling contacts, correct?â Lucanis asked while raising an eyebrow.
â...Yes?â
âGood. I need these items for the pantry.â Lucanis took out a piece of parchment from his waistcoat and shoved it into Zeaâs hands. âPreferably as fresh as possible. Oh! And we need more coffee, weâre almost out and-â
âLucanis.â Zea simply said, wondering if he had slept even just a little bit since arriving at the Lighthouse.Â
âSĂŹ?â
âCan we talk about this in the morn-err later? Itâs like three in the morning.â
There was a slight pause before Lucanis gave a short nod, âLater then.â
Zea watched as he turned on his heel and made for the staircase that led to the main level of the Lighthouse. Still wondering if this was some kind of hyper-realistic Fade dream, she shut her door and set the parchment down on the table before sitting back down on the chaise lounge. After a second's hesitation, she got back up and walked over to the side table- opening the drawer and pulling out the small dagger Isabela had given her after her first win at the Hall of Valor. Sitting back down on the chaise, she slipped the dagger underneath her pillow. âIt might not do much against a Crow, but at least itâs there.â she thought while laying down.
--
3. Emmrich cautiously stood and softly made his way towards the infirmary door. Rook was finally sleeping and he didnât want to wake her. They had managed to get through Weisshaupt without any serious injuries, only to have the Eluvian explode after they made their way through it; Rook catching a number of shards in her side.
âBut sheâs fine now, all she needs is rest.â he told himself, slowly closing the door but keeping it open a crack so heâd have an easier time opening it when he checked on her later.
Making his way down the steps and out into the courtyard, Emmrich was intent on making a cup of tea so he could relax and sort through his feelings for Rook. She was certainly attractive and they had spent time discussing books and other things, but he wasnât sure if she was interested in a personal relationship or just professional.
âEmmrich!â Bellara called out, appearing over the steps that led to her workshop, rushing towards him while waving a piece of parchment. âIs Rook awake? Strife wants to talk to her about what happened to the Eluvian at Weisshaupt and see if we can fix it.â
Emmrich opened his mouth to say that no, Rook was sleeping at the moment, when Neve appeared from the direction of her own office (and holding her own parchment). âThe Viper has a lead on those slavers Zeaâs been after. Said that the Shadow Dragons have their headquarters staked out and we can move in on them anytime we want.â
âThe Crows need help clearing some Blight from the city and dealing with Antaam patrols that are harassing the refugee camps.â Lucanis held out his own parchment. âCan you get this to Rook right away?â
âNo.â Emmrich said firmly, shaking his head and pushing past the small crowd that had formed around him.Â
âBut maybe thereâs something we missed against the Blight-â
âThe slavers wonât stay there for long, we need to-â
â-the least she can do after abandoning Treviso to the dragon attack.â
âRook is still injured!â Emmrich snapped, stopping abruptly and turning to face the trio. âI removed the shards from the Eluvian and stopped the bleeding but she needs rest. So no, I will not give her the missives and you will not bother her with any requests or demands on her time until I am certain sheâs recovered enough.â
Emmrich gave his best âdisapproving professorâ look until all three of them nodded their understanding and went back to their respective areas, presumably to write to their leaders that for the time being Rook was out of commission and they would have to solve their problems without her help.
Day 7 of veilguard appreciation week. Itâs been such a blast, thanks so much to @veilguard-appreciation-week for hosting the event! Iâve enjoyed seeing and reading everyoneâs entries and participating myself!!!
Day 7: the lighthouse | we can continue this in the morning
Zalan wants to tell varric heâs seeing Harding
Set after her lock in scene but before the fire and ice quest
It was warm in the little tent in Hardingâs room, Lace was draped over Zalanâs chest breathing evenly as she slept hopefully dreaming good dreams. The crow was still blinking away the sleep from his eyes but with the dwarf slung over him, arm across his stomach he wasnât getting up any time soon. Heâd briefly thought about trying to move her and get up anyway, he usually went for a stretch and run this early but her face looked peaceful and that was enough that he wouldnât be disturbing her. Anytime her dreams managed to not be bad dreams Zalan found himself bending over backwards doing anything to let her sleep longer.
So instead of getting up the crow found himself gently running his hands through Laceâs hair. Sheâd taken down the braids after bathing last night and it had dried in waves down her back. The red shone in the patches of sun that infiltrated the tent and he admired the color as he brushed through her hair. The red shade was a favorite of his now, but so was the green of her eyes, and the blue of her lyrium magic. Not that he would admit that to anyone.
Listening to her sleep and enjoying the comforting weight of her on his chest he filed through what the team would need to do for the day. Dock Town had a few requests for aid as did Rivain and heâd have to split them up into groups if they wanted to do both today.
As he decided who to send where his eyes caught on Laceâs desk in the corner, missives littering the top, several letters opened and half finished were scattered prominently in the center, a good number with the inquisition stamp on them.
Which reminded him that he needed to check in with Varric. Somehow the dwarf slipped his mind easily these days- a thought he attributed to how busy everyone had been recently, but heâd been meaning to stop by and chat with him for days now.
Truthfully since Harding had kissed him heâd been meaning to bring it up with Varric. Everyone else in the lighthouse had brought up his relationship with Lace, or so it seemed, and he had been meaning to talk to his injured friend about it before someone else told him first. Zalan didnât think the writer would hold it against him for not telling him if he heard it from someone else but the crow owed him so much he deserved to hear it from him.
He might have been unconsciously putting it off, just a little, because he was nervous about what Varric would say.
He was the one who introduced the two after all, heâd been friends with Harding for much much longer, and had always been protective of his friends. So if he didnât approve Zalan wasnât sure what he would do. It would hurt in a way he hadnât experienced since Viago had been forced to rescue him on a mission gone wrong, carrying his bloody and freshly scarred body to safety instead of throwing his graduation to name him a full crow.
He comforted himself with the thought that if Varric disapproved he would only threaten Zalan or maybe try to talk sense into Harding not shoot him or send him back to the Crows.
At least he didnât think Varric would throw him out.
Lace finally stirred pulling him out of his thoughts; sighing and nuzzling into him for a moment before stretching and grumbling about waking up with the fade sun so bright.
Giving her scalp a scratch Zalan chuckled and pressed a good morning kiss to her head. She vaguely groaned and gave his chest a pat before rolling off him to get up.
With her awake Zalan headed out of the greenhouse and promised to meet back up after breakfast for a team meeting.
Not wanting to put off the talk any longer he jogged up the stairs to the infirmary.
Varric was there, hobbling around the room, heading back to the bed, face drawn and tired.
âHey kid, I was working on Bianca again, have to get her back into working order before Iâm well enough to get back out there or Iâll be useless in a fight.â It was said with a chuckle but Zalan still felt worry for the dwarf swim though his stomach. He still wasnât looking much better and he hoped Varric wasnât pushing himself too hard and just making it worse. But he couldnât very well tell him to just leave it until he was healed, Zalan wouldnât be able to just sit still and do nothing and he couldnât expect Varric to be any different.
âYou have a minute?â Varric was pulling back the covers and sitting down on the bed looking haggard but Zalan looked hopeful.
âLegâs bothering me today but for you Rook I have a minute or two, whatâs wrong now?â He asked it with a smile and an eyebrow quirk, like he thought Zalan was always in trouble. Which maybe was a fair thought but the crow still huffed.
âNothingâs wrong.â Zalan paused, leaning against the doorframe and fiddling with his nails for something to do.
âI- Varric I think I really like Harding.â He said it like maybe he had a problem after all. Before he could add any more Varric snorted,
âIâd hope so, we traveled together for a whole year.â Zalan wasnât sure if he was being teased or if Varric was being purposefully obtuse and shook his head as the dwarf settled back into the bed.
âI think I love Lace Harding.â He corrected himself, trying to sound less uncertain this time and tried to look at Verric as he spoke but his eyes slid to Bianca on the table instead, âI think Iâve liked her for a while now too. When we went to retrieve the lyrium dagger- Varric I thought Iâd lost her for a second when she fell off that cliff. And I want her to know now, that this is real. That itâs always been real, all the stupid times Iâve flirted, I meant it. I-â
He went to look at Varric, wanting to see if there was any reaction in the manâs face but Varric was asleep, sweat on his forehead and exhaustion written in his features.
Zalan sighed, feeling deflated after finally managing to confess it all to the dwarf only to have him fall asleep.
âNever mind, we can continue this in the morning.â His grumbling even sounded bitter to himself.
But then immediately a rush of guilt washed over him; Varric was still gravely wounded, still trying to heal, obviously still in pain if this interaction was anything to go by. He shouldnât be bothering the older man, he needed his rest for his body to heal. And there he was just trying to yap at the poor man. He berated himself and shoved off the doorframe crossing his arms and leaving the room quietly as to not disturb Varricâs much needed rest.
Heâd talk to the man later. When he was feeling better. Feeling up to it. For now heâd go down to the dining hall and the team would help, do some good, and kick some butt.
//
Later, after Solas tried to trap him, after the long arduous journey to break out of the fade prison, after the team told him what had happened while he was away, when he finally had a second to breathe Zalan wondered about that moment.
He had stared down at the empty bed where heâd thought Varric had been, the old worn coat and book sitting there. And he could feel his chest tighten yet again- it seemed to be doing that a lot as he came to terms with so much- this time from the knowledge that he never did get to tell Varric.
That someone so close to Harding never got to threaten him to treat her right like Taash did. That he didnât get to properly thank him for introducing him to the love of his life, to leading him to the team he would consider his family. To thank him for saving him by offering him a different path after Viago sent him away from the Crows.
He would get through this like everything else. But knowing it had been Solas, letting him believe Varric was too injured, too tired to hear. That did hurt worse than torture, it hurt his soul. Made him want to hit something or throw something or cry again.
Solas would be answering for a lot when they next spoke.
Had to make todayâs prompt with Varric in it for just a little bit of angst. Rook romancing Harding and wanting to tell Varric the good news but never being able to. Rook wanting to talk about her to varric because they were close and varric always cared but not getting to because either his mind wonât let him or solas doesnât want to chat.
The letter from Antoine comes about two weeks after Rook had stumbled back through the eluvian with Davrin and Bellara â filthy, exhausted, exultant.
Rook seems disinclined to go, right up until the postscript from Evka that Davrin reads aloud, with a few pointed glances up over the top of the paper: âI know youâre busy, and Iâm not in any position to summon you, but seeing as we did go out to meet you in Arlathan, Iâd say you owe us the return trip.â
(âOh, thatâs low,â Rook had said, sounding almost impressed.)
Which is how Lucanis finds himself seated on a wall in the Anderfels with a nine year old, watching the last Wardens get drunk in the mud.
