#Lucanis: threads

[immortalmuses]

@unascended sent 📚 for Lucanis 👀

ㅤㅤㅤ"... A murderer not only kills a person, he kills their home."

ㅤㅤㅤLucanis's tone is flat, the usual softness that rounds out his vowels pressed to a hardened edge. He sounds as sharp as the daggers in his belt.

ㅤㅤㅤIt could be blamed, perhaps, on the ever-stretching shadow Spite casts against the Talon's back. But Lucanis's eyes remain clear. And they are looking at Astarion.

[immortalmuses]

ㅤㅤㅤShe. Has. Ussss. Spite's voice is something akin to a taunt inside Lucanis's head, sounding far too smug for a creature that fails to grasp even the basics of human-to-human dynamics. But for once the demon's jibes don't make Dellamorte bristle. Instead, he turns the words over in his mind, watching Gwen with an expression too complicated to read.

ㅤㅤㅤHope, she says. Even after all that has happened, and all that is sure to happen still, Gwen somehow has hope. Lucanis cannot help the wonder in his voice as he replies,  "… that is… a fearless approach, Rook. Never doubt that I admire you for it."

ㅤㅤㅤHe does not say that he shares equally in that hope, however. The Demon of Vyrantium long ago learned to temper his expectations, particularly in the face of unlikely odds.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ(… it is a lesson he learned perhaps too well).

ㅤㅤㅤStill, there is something that Lucanis can promise, something he knows to be true, beyond any shadow of doubt. Setting his own half-empty coffee cup aside, the Crow reaches out to graze the back of Rook's hand where it rests on the balustrade, his fingertips callused against the curve of her knuckles.

ㅤㅤㅤ"… I am with you, Gwen." He says, a simple confirmation, "Spite and I will stay at your side, regardless of how these coming events unfurl. If we…" Lucanis hesitates, his thumb flexing, touch sweeping over the fine bones of the back of Rook's hand, "… if you are not destined to leave the field of battle, then neither shall we."

ㅤㅤㅤHis words are a contract in their own right. Unlike anything Lucanis has spoken before, but equally Unbreakable.

What has been done to him isn't his fault, nor Spite's for that matter. Never once has she ever looked upon him as if he was something that needed to be fixed. Even if he may think himself broken, she never thought so. If anything, his resilience has only been something she's admired about him. If only it didn't come at the expense of himself.

Her eyes flit over to him as he draws out her sentiment, brows lifting in slight worry as he speaks of how just uncertain things are for them. His thoughts have echoed her own many times over, but she can't help but feel a twinge of regret that he must be so quick to assume the worst. Being prepared for the worst to come, sensible.

But is hope really so unattainable?

" You speak truth, but I have hope. " She softly challenges him, letting her cup come to rest on the wide ledge so that she could focus on him instead of allowing herself to use it as a distraction. " It isn't perfect. Lords, it's not even great, " She offers with a breathless laugh, knowing that their chances of surviving blighted gods isn't in their favor. It changes nothing.

" But I have you. " She speaks gently, which has her eyes widening slightly as she looks away from his gaze. " And Spite. " She adds, thinking she has recovered some that stumble, but a blush climbs up the apples of her cheeks. " The whole team, really. So I'll allow myself to hope you and I might yet return here together as just people. "

[okthisway]

Elek don't flirt with my… colleague

[maythedreadwolftakeyou]

putting fabric through the printer still feels illegal every time i do it. but! nothing jammed so another success :)

my plan for my Lucanis design was always to do it large scale—this will be for an 8inch display hoop. The little 3.5-inch hoop I finished in January will be my color guide for this one, and I’ll be using the same assortment of silk, cotton, metallic, sparkly, and hand-dyed threads to get the final look :) it should look a lot neater at bigger scale too (and with more care/precision than I spent on the small one lol).

[vaguely-concerned]

rye in the sheltered glade with evka and antoine after destroying the blight eruption with unholy amounts of alchemical fire, looking Directly at lucanis studying a flower as it emerges undaunted from the thousand year horrors of the blight with all the guileless wonder and fascination of a little boy: yeah that's uh. wow. that is beautiful actually. this kind of does change everything doesn't it

[thelibrarian1895]

Veilguard hobbies

Yes there is a book club

However I would like to propose another activity that the Veilguard does for team bonding, decompressing between missions, and passing time when they're not running around with Rook.

Knitting circle/stich 'n' bitch

It starts by accident, Lucanis is in the kitchen and has taken out his knitting, he's making himself a new cardigan, while he's keeping an eye on something he has roasting. The side dishes are all completed or will take only moments to finish. The main dish will take longer. He knows many dishes that take less time, less effort, but roasting is its own art and it's been a year since he's cooked anything. Besides all that, the ingredients available are limited. He'll need to go shopping.

Rook, because of course it is Rook, sees the knitting and does not comment. Instead, they leave for a bit and come back with an embroidery hoop, needles, and a collection of colored thread (Provided by the Lighthouse and unbeknownst to Rook, this is the first thing that the Lighthouse has provided to just Rook, not to Rook being partially overshadowed by the desires of the Dread Wolf in their head). Rook (My Ingellvar at least) embroiders as a hobby (among other hobbies). They take a seat by the fire and begin to place careful stitches. Lucanis watches as wisps begin to crowd around the mage, giving them better light for their needle work. Lucanis and Rook sit calmly together, the only interruption for either of them was Lucanis pausing at times to turn the roast and (in Rook's eyes) perform some sort of magic that made the roasting meat smell even more appetizing.

Lucanis sees the door open from his place in the kitchen and Harding peer inside. Like Rook, the dwarf leaves and returns. Harding arrives with more yarn and their own needles and silently sat at the table. She chose a spot outside of Lucanis's striking range and had her bow and quiver at her side as she cast loops onto her knitting needles. She's planning on mittens for the team.

Bellara is next, drawn by the smell, and gives a little "oh" of delight at the sight of the three. She leaves and returns with Neve. Bellara is holding a pair of knitting needles and Neve leads her through the basics while the detective's own fingers fly as she knits silk stockings. Neve, Lucanis, and Harding all keep an eye on Bellara's efforts and each offer tips and instruction as Bellara begins to knit a scarf.

Eventually Lucanis finishes making dinner and puts away his knitting. The other four put away their own projects and set the table. Then his new teammates fall upon the meal as though they've never tasted food before. Between the praises for his cooking and the...interesting sounds the other four make, the Crow can only hope that the worst of his blush is hidden by his beard.

The next time he knits in the kitchen instead of the privacy of the pantry, it happens again. First Rook with their embroidery, a garden of flowers blooming from their needle, then Harding with their own knitting and her bow and quiver. Then Bellara with her slowly lengthening scarf and Neve and her stockings.

It happens again. Each of them brings their own project. Bellara is the first to break the silence to question Neve about a case involving a particular magister. Lucanis recognizes the name and he bites the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling. Rook doesn’t recognize the magister's first name but they do recognize the family name. It seems they had a Nevarran ancestor, an ancestor who was and still is very chatty. Rook regales them with stories from the magister's many times great uncle and scandals of the Blessed age that caused the uncle to retreat to Nevarra. Harding offers delicious bits of gossip from the Inquisition.

The next week the magister is dead and Neve's needles click with outrage as she describes what has to have been murder but the magister had been in a locked room and there was no trace of magic or poison. The man had dropped dead in a locked room! Rook offers to try to raise the magister to see if he knew anything about his death and Bellara postulates various outlandish theories that Lucanis makes note of because some of those could be viable. Harding is more curious about who wanted the magister dead rather than the method of death which causes Neve to think out loud and she may end up revealing more magisterial gossip than she intended.

The next week Lucanis will have heard back from Teia and Viago and be able to answer at least some of Neve's endless questions about the case. He can't tell her who paid for the contract or exactly how it was done, that would be unprofessional. But he can confirm for her that it was murder and let her know that the door had not been locked when the Crow entered the room. Her needles still clack loudly as she knits more silk stockings. Rook's garden is finished and now hangs above the stove, lavender and other purple flowers he doesn’t recognize, encircling a phrase in an old Nevarran twist on ancient Tevene that Rook refuses to translate. Rook works now on the heels of the stockings that Neve has finished, embroidering snakes in bright blue and yellow and pink tulips, adding strength, flexibility, and length to the silk stockings as well as a sense of style for the detective. Harding has finished her own mittens and is working on another set in bright yellow. Bellara's scarf continues to grow in length. All of them are trying to guess what Rook's embroidered decoration says, each of them coming up with more outlandish ideas.

Emmrich joins them and he works on cross stitch design on a waistcoat. Manfred serves them all tea and then wields his own needle and thread, deftly working through the mending that they’ve all kept to themselves but now find piled up in a basket by Manfred when they gather. It's the first time they gather when Lucanis isn't cooking something that takes more time than it does attention. Rook is embroidering flowers onto woven bands, lavender and others he doesn’t recognize. Bellara asks Emmrich to translate Rook’s previous project and the older mage nearly spits out his tea when he sees the little circle of purple flowers and Tevinter-Nevarran. He refuses and Harding postulates that it’s something very rude. Bellara counters that’s something scandalous instead. Rook diverts them with gossip she overheard while in Treviso and Lucanis finds himself under interrogation about Antivan merchant princes and their love affairs.

Davrin carves new knitting needles for those who knit, all of them have customized decorations on the ends of their needles so they can be told apart quickly and easily. Bellara proudly leads him through the basics so he can start his own scarf. Assan is given his own ball of yarn to keep him from the yarn being used by the others. He’s also diverted with scritches by those who have paused because of hand cramps and snacks from all of them who can sneak the treats past Davrin’s sharp eyes. Davrin is on Harding’s side that Rook’s project says something rude.

Harding stops bringing her bow and quiver and instead provides her Ma’s apple pie. Rook brings cookies from her favorite Nevarran bakery. Taash brings Rivani fruit.

Taash initially helps Manfred with the mending but the wisp of Curiosity has very high standards for mending and Taash’s stitchwork leaves much to be desired in the eyes of Manfred. Manfred does not tell Taash that Taash’s work is not good enough. Taash does not realize until they see Manfred reinforcing the seams on a shirt that Taash had just finished reinforcing. Taash instead starts to knit hats and complains about idiots in the Lords that have no idea about the difference between different dragons. Their first project is a hat for Harding. Taash is on Bellara’s side that Rook’s first project has something “spicy” on it.

Bellara will end up with a scarf that could be wrapped around the neck of a giant. All of them will have knitted hats that match their personalized mittens. All of them have stylish silks stockings with clocked heels and embroidered bands on the hems of their sleeves and collars. And all of them will have all the good gossip.

Lucanis will learn what Rook’s project said.

edit: if you choose to adopt embroidery as one of your Rook's hobbies then your Rook shares their little message with their love interest or their best friend if the choose not to romance anyone.

edit: My Ingellvar likes floriography and where according to banter Emmrich would be a botanist if he wasn't a mourn watcher, my Rook would probably be a florist if she had to choose a different line of work. I imagine florists do very good business in Nevarra. Pink tulips are for caring, good wishes, confidence, and friendship. Lavender, besides being a reference to a certain outing in Treviso, has several conflicting messages by itself but can refer to a confession, anything further would depend on the flowers around lavender.

Notes: Yes Neve could buy socks but before machine industry, most people made their socks. The "clocking" was a way to show style as well as help make stockings fit better. Among the people in Dock town we mostly see people who are barefoot or in sandals. Those implied to be upper class have clothes long enough and shoes tall enough that socks are not necessarily immediately noticeable but are likely for people able to afford nicer clothing. Neve is not rich but Neve is very stylish. She can make socks, though she'll probably take socks and mending as her fee from some of her clients in the past. Taash is okay at mending, Manfred just has higher standards. This is taken from my great grandma's attitude towards sewing. If your work did not meet her standards, she would wait until you were gone and then unpick your threads and redo them herself. If you were related to her then you would see her unpick your stitch work. I never dared to work on a quilt with her because I knew for a fact she'd unpick my stitches. For Rook's embroidery and Emmrich's cross stitch, I'd like to think that a relatively easy way for a mage of limited means to make themselves look more prosperous and thus like a mage who has connections or a patron that make them unsafe to mess with is to add fancy thread work, threadwork that looks fancy enough to have to have been expensive to commission, to their clothes until they have the means to be more obviously the sort not to mess with due to Connections and Political Power. Some mages learn to make lace and add it to their robes for the same purposes. And some Southern mages learned fancy work like that in the hopes that they could use the not magical skills to support themselves if they ever managed to destroy their phylactery and get away from the Circle.

[kmackatie]

Dragon Age: The Veilguard

Act Two, part ten

[x]

[awardenandacrow]

FANFIC SNIPPET 28

NOTE: I was so, so, so fortunate that @ / mink.malerei over on Threads selected my Rook, Naimeryn, to practice tattoo designs on! I’m *obsessed* with how Naimy looks in her style 🥹🥹 Additionally, I’m so obsessed with this beautiful blood lotus and black lotus tattoo design, I ✨needed✨ to make it canon. So this snippet is inspired by this beautiful painting by my Threads friend :3

[Naimy wants a new tattoo]

——————————————————————————

“Harding?” Naimeryn asked uncertainly. Maybe she was with Taash?

“Rook! I’m in the corner!”

Oh, good.

“Hey,” Naimeryn greeted again, walking around the pool to where Harding crouched, tending what she thought might be elfroot.

“Hey, yourself,” Harding nodded, standing and turning to face her. “Did you need me for something?”

“Um, sort of,” Naimeryn said, rubbing her arm self consciously. “Do you have anything in here that’s native to Ferelden?”

“Oh, sure,” Harding nodded. “Actually, the Lighthouse must have known I was feeling a little homesick, because… almost all of these are native to home.”

Naimeryn looked around with a growing awe of the room. “Oh,” she said softly, simultaneously feeling overwhelmed. She’d thought this would be… easy.

“You never want to talk about Ferelden,” Harding said gently. “Where’s this coming from?”

“Oh, I —“ Naimeryn put her fists on her hips and surveyed Harding’s room, wishing something would just… jump out at her. She sighed. “It’s probably stupid.”

“You came all the way in here,” Harding pointed out, nudging her with her elbow. “If it’s that important to you, it can’t be that stupid.”

“It’s just… ok. Um. So, I’ve been spending a lot of time in Arlathan with Davrin and Bellara, lately.”

“Right. It’s good for you, I think? You always seem happier when you come back.”

“Do I?”

“I think that’s why Davrin always invites you on his little walks. Help you clear your head. Get some *real* air.”

“Oh,” Naimeryn smiled, just a little. She loved their outings with Assan. She had never once suspected Davrin had a motive other than bonding when he asked her to go. Now that she knew.. it was really sweet. She was glad he did.

Even if he was somewhat insufferable at times.

“Well, anyway. Yesterday they.. taught me to make a flower crown. Well, Bellara taught me. Davrin just showed off how good he is at it,” she rolled her eyes, and Harding laughed.

“That sounds like a nice time,” she said.

“It was. I mean I was *terrible* at it,” Naimeryn laughed, feeling her shoulders relax. “But the whole thing, it got me thinking. About how elves have always kind of been one with nature, best we know, and I’ve always been.. *not*. But, yesterday, being out in that clearing with them, just sitting in the grass… I felt more like an elf in a *good* way than… than I ever have.”

Naimeryn bit her lip. Why did saying it out loud make her so emotional?

Harding touched her arm, just a gentle tap to remind her she was there for her. “That… that’s really great, Naimy. I’m so happy for you.”

Naimeryn smiled. “Thanks. I… I know the Dalish usually get tattoos for big moments in their lives. Mine aren’t really that, but I feel like I want to… honor that tradition in my own way? So I want to get a new tattoo. Something… floral, maybe?”

She took a deep breath. “And I thought… I thought about getting something like Brona’s Bloom, but I have that pretty strongly associated with the Wardens, and I already have my griffon tattoo. And I thought about maybe some of the flowers we made crowns out of, but…”

Another deep breath. Why did all of this sound so stupid now that she was saying it out loud?

“I just thought, if this is about… *embracing* who I am, finding myself amidst… everything. Exploring my roots. I just thought…”

“You thought you should get a Ferelden flower… like you!” Harding said brightly.

*Like… me?* “Yeah… something like that, I guess.”

“I love that idea!” Harding beamed.

“Really?” Naimeryn asked. “You don’t think it’s dumb?”

“I really, really don’t,” Harding shook her head and patted Naimeryn’s elbow. “Come on! Let’s pick you a flower or two. I’ve got some ideas.”

[faded-mage]

Enjoyed making these a bit too much. My "canon compliant" world state for Dragon Age. My AU has it's own set... well, it will once I get to Veilguard in that fic. Don't wanna spoil too many surprises.

Warden Elera Surana Origins Elf, Mage (Arcane Warrior), Alistair

Champion Amerie Hawke 2, aka Fuck Around in Kirkwall Human, Mage (Force Mage), Anders

Inquisitor Avise Lavellan Inquisition Dalish Elf, Mage (Knight Enchanter), Solas Golden Thread Does Not Bind

Mara de Riva, "Rook" Veilguard City Elf, Mage (Spellblade), Lucanis

[perditus]

-- Open

It’s a shift so subtle Lucanis doesn’t even notice. One moment he’s writing notes down and suddenly he’s gone, a flash of purple emitting from his eyes. Even Spite was blindsided, blinking as he’s suddenly thrust into control of the Crow. The demon looks around for a moment, adjusting to staying in control before checking in the background for Lucanis. Unresponsive. Asleep. 

Standing up slowly, the demon peeks at the journal held in his hands. Using the pen in his hand, he hastily scribbles his own thoughts before tossing it down on the cot for later. Lucanis would surely appreciate that. Maybe not. Either option was good enough for him. Not knowing how much time he had before the Crow collected himself again, Spite quickly made his way through the dining room, slipping out the door as quietly as he could. 

After taking a brief glance around and seeing nobody at first sight, he starts descending the steps, giddy to be in control after so long.

[immortalmuses]

@berthindeath sent: They linger behind a fallen stone column, covered in foliage and forgotten by time as Gwendolyn looks beside her at Lucanis, sporting an expression of slight confusion at why they were here in the first place. She can sense the passive presence of Spite that lingers on the fringes of her companion’s mind—seems he’s just as confused as his host. When honeyed hues find her and she can sense the question on his tongue, Gwen whispers softly, “ Look, dragă— “ as her hand draws his attention from her to the thick brush they were facing several feet away. There, they witness a wyvern collapsing into its nest with its prey, not unlike a large cat with its fresh kill. She, who had only read of such creatures back home in Nevarra, even in her travels with Varric before this point, she’d not witnessed one until now. It has lilac hues glittering with curiosity before she glances over at Lucanis, trying to gauge his reaction. “ Harding spotted it while scouting ahead. I thought you might like to see it. “

ㅤㅤㅤThis outing with Rook is shaping up to be a curious one, yes... but perhaps no more than any other. Lucanis has long since grown comfortable following the necromancer into questionable locales (and isn't that an interesting turn of phrase?). He can at least appreciate how the wooded area they now find themselves in is relatively free of blight.

ㅤㅤㅤAs usual, Spite crowds at the back of his consciousness, the demon hiding his growing curiosity with impatience. It's almost enough to make the Crow smile.

ㅤㅤㅤFollowing Gwen into a crouch, Lucanis shifts his gaze from a quick, assessing scan of the surrounding area to Rook herself, his eyebrows slanting expectantly. He's poised to ask her intentions when she reveals a... most unexpected surprise...

ㅤㅤㅤ"..mierda..." Lucanis breathes, his sharp inhale hushed even as his features slacken with awe. For a moment, the Crow appears years younger; a boy again, forever entranced with the Wyverns of his storybooks. Even Spite has gone quiet (though it's unlikely that will last for long).

ㅤㅤㅤSeeming unable to take his eyes off the incredible creature, Lucanis reaches out to rest the lightest of touch on Gwen's wrist. His fingers flex against the base of her palm, almost as if---

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ{ Almost like he's resisting the urge to take her hand. }

ㅤㅤㅤ"Rook, this is..." The Crow smiles, slow and blinding like the sun emerging from behind a cloudbank. He shakes his head, voice still pitched low, "...should we even be here? Wyverns are notoriously territorial, especially when there is a nest."

ㅤㅤㅤBut Ay! To see one in person, at last? It's a gift so precisely chosen for Lucanis that he feels almost unmoored by its thoughtfulness. No one has ever... The assassin blinks away the thought, his gaze finally shifting from the sight of the Wyvern back to Rook, "....thank you, Gwen. Very much."

[vixenofcadmea]

Threads Between Us - Chapter 15 is up!

Read it on AO3 -> Chapter 15: Masterpiece

Chapter 15 Snippet

Rook’s smile flickered, faint and sharp, but she didn’t look away. “You don’t usually entertain other assassins in your safehouse, then?” “Only the ones who threaten to bleed all over my floor.” That earned a soft breath of laughter. Maker’s breath, how he’d missed that sound. Not just the tone of it, but the way it slipped out unguarded, here with him. He liked being the reason for it, liked that she gave him her ease, and let her joy bloom where he could reach it. She reached for her glass again, sipping slow. “Well,” she said, tilting her head, “for a man who claims this isn’t routine, you’re… unsettlingly good at it.” He huffed a breath through his nose. “You’re wounded. Your judgment’s suspect.” “My judgment is excellent.” Her foot brushed against his leg, intentional yet effortless. “You’re just not used to being observed.” His hand moved without thinking, tracing the curve of her calf. She didn’t flinch. Didn’t lean in either. Just stayed still, as if waiting to see what he would do. She caught his gaze and arched a brow, not shy. “What is it?” “I’m wondering,” he said slowly, the truth dancing on the tip of his tongue, “if I’ll ever stop being surprised by you.” Her responding grin was crooked, caught somewhere between wary and amused. “That’s dangerously close to flattery.” She set her glass down and reached for his, placing it beside hers on the small table beside the couch. “You’re deflecting, by the way. That’s not an answer.” “Isn’t it?” He caught her hand as she withdrew it, enclosing his fingers around hers. “I’m looking at you and thinking about how close I came to losing this before it began.” Her smile faded into something quieter, almost expectant. “And what is ‘this’, exactly?”

[hemerasiae]

Every day feels like another step toward some yet unseen precipice, while no amount of circling back or collusion with shadows can stay the advance. Though his relationship with Spite is better, his own mental health, entirely separate from that unfortunate circumstance, remains volatile at best. He does not know how to watch the love of his life dive head first into danger and out of his reach. To implore @aestuum not to go where he cannot follow is a Sisyphean ask. They will always go where they believe people can be saved—one of their most admirable and maddening qualities.

However, since the encounter in the Deep Roads with that blighted Warden, they have grown more heedless than usual. It has struck a nerve in Lucanis, and it has led him to pace the length of their shared quarters in the Lighthouse with Spite looking on with equal parts curiosity and latent rage.

WHAT IS. THIS? FEELING? he demands, irritable in this lack of familiarity.

"It is no—" Lucanis can say 'nothing,' and the spirit will sputter and hiss, but that will be the end of it; or, he can commit to an effort which would ultimately make sharing this body more tenable for them both. "Frustration, Spite. Helplessness. Worry. Fear."

TOWARD — CASADH, WHY?

"I do not want to see them harmed."

LUCANIS AND SPITE. PROTECT. CASADH.

"Yes, but..."

How does Lucanis explain that despite all of his epithets and laurels he is only a man? An assassin, a self-appointed arbiter of death, in a way that can only be described as one of the many follies of mortalkind, yes, but a flawed and loathsome human man.

This is in direct opposition to Casadh, who is endlessly kind and selfless, often to their detriment. They walk with gods and call them by name. They command the attention of spirits older than the concept of time. There is no one less qualified to feel frustration to their efforts, and yet he cannot help himself.

"Please do not interfere," he is not above begging Spite. "when I talk to them. No matter the outcome."

Spite prickles, already suspicious of any situation where someone (be it Lucanis or otherwise) may upset Casadh, but he seems to at least be considering compliance.

[my-tea-is-cold]

call me crazy but I think Lucanis’ romance was the best out of the male romances in Dragon Age: The Veilguard.

no but honestly I was so surprised when I went on the internet and found that his romance was shat on by so many people. I found it a bit lacking, yes, but only in volume, not magnitude. As someone who is asexual and arospec I found his romance the least uncomfortable to engage with (after that is Davrin, but his scene in Rook’s room was too sexual for me and then in last is Emmrich, who was just too romantic to handle)

[maythedreadwolftakeyou]

doing a first-pass of figuring out all the different shapes in Lucanis' tarot card to figure out making it into an embroidery and fucking hell... theres so many weird lines... how did i miss the og artist got away with not actually showing any hand details esp on the forward one 😂 good for them but that does NOT translate to stained glass or embroidery style so now fuck me i guess 😭

[bolyde]

Unfortunately, for anyone romancing him, Lucanis thinks one of the most romantic things he can do is give his significant other a Crow Contract for his time.