#lucanis wants to keep spite well rook wants to keep solas

[royalich]

Lace, possessed and speaking directly to Rook: You took everything from us, and you thought you won. But we're still here. We will endure. In spite of you.

Lucanis: 😌🙂‍↕️😌🙂‍↕️

Spite, from behind Lucanis' eye: 😂😈👹

Rook: 😐🫥😶‍🌫️

Solas, from behind Rooks eye: ✌️🙂😔

[ar-ghilas-vir-banal]

You know what one of the Solas Banters in DAV should’ve been? Talking to the romanced companion about the romance.

Like there should’ve been a rough patch that you can navigate out of just before the big fight. Solas catches the smad looks the two of you have, if you’ve put them in your party.

-“Davrin, forgive my intrusion-“

“Mm.”

“I… am aware of your… bond with-“

“Don’t, Solas. This is between us, yes?”

“It is. But if I may… waste no time.”

“… this advice is from Wisdom, hm?”

“*Solas chuckles, clearly a little taken aback by being called that* Maybe. Avoid this one regret.”

“… you didn’t.”

Solas doesn’t reply.

———————

“What is it, Solas? You keep… looking at me.”

“I see what Rook sees in you, Bellara Lutare. Your mind. Your spirit. Both are very bright. I am, however, trying to determine what you see in him/her/them.”

“That’s- that’s none of your business.”

“You are right. It is not…”

Then quieter: “When I left Rook in the Fade, he/she/they whispered your name. Not for help… like a prayer. You are important to him/her/them.”

“I… he’s/she’s/they’re important to me. But I couldn’t-“

“Protect him/her/them… I understand. Do you think he/she/they love(s) you less for it?”

“… that’s… why are you saying this?”

“If I could, there is one person I would wish to see right now. Someone I do still believe I am a danger to. But I long to see her all the same. Avoid my folly.”

“… the Inquisitor.”

Solas doesn’t reply after that.

———————

“Professor… you seem troubled.”

“I… ah. Hm. Well. Yes. I suppose I am.”

“… I will not pry. But… I know the feeling of the face you wear. Whatever keeps you from what you want… ultimately it is unimportant. Especially if… if someone wishes to take it from you. Remember, being loved well should be answered in kind.”

After a long silence in which an understanding look is implied, Emmrich

“I will bear that in mind. Thank you, Solas. You are still a Spirit of Wisdom.”

“… scarcely.”

———————

“Spite, you have withheld something from your host.”

We don’t hear Spite speak, we only hear Lucanis. He sounds stunned and then relieved.

“… I… oh. You… you do? Solas. I… why?”

“I have… recently become a bit of a romantic.”

The implied conversation is that Spite not only doesn’t mean the romance Rook harm, but that he adores them also. Allowing Spite and Lucanis to be of one mind where they’re concerned.

I admittedly don’t know the others that well but yall get my point. Also that was kinda fun!

[glitteringdust]

Lucanis and Spite's reaction to Rook being trapped in the Regret prison, or, if someone already asked that, romanced Lucanis having to tell Viago (massive older brother vibes) that Crow!Rook is stuck in the Regret prison

Standing in the entrance of Rook's room, Lucanis closes his eyes.

For a moment, he swears he feels her right there— sitting on the couch, curled over her notebook making a sketch of something she couldn't get out of her head.

The room still smells of cinnamon spice from the incense she always had burning on the far dresser. Her clothes would be everywhere, along with loose notes and bits of potion ingredients scattered about.The fade window of swimming fish would remind him of the Ossuary like it always did— sending a sour storm of adrenaline straight to his chest. Only by Rook's sweet face murmuring soft reassurances would he return to the present, back in her presence.

The moment passes and he knows what he will see when he opens his eyes. Nothing is as it should be.

Rook is gone. Gone. Betrayed by Solas.

Spite bristles along his spine at the thought. Lucanis clenches a fist as he battles the demon's anger as well as his own. For once, they were both equally powerless to rescue her.

We find her. We find Rook.

Spite was angry more than anything else, bleeding into Lucanis' every thought. He wanted revenge, action… something to stab and kill and as far as the demon was concerned the team was doing nothing at all.

But they had no choice, so all they could do was bide their time, recoup their resources and figure out a plan to find Rook.

—

In the fleeting moments he's able to close his eyes and sleep, he still sees the flash of light in his dreams. A bright flash, Rook's horrified voice shouting his name, and then nothing. It was unnerving, seeing it over and over again. Spite seemed almost as incapacitated by the dreams as Lucanis was.

Emmrich once said spirits could experience intense mood shifts during stress, perhaps that was the reason why he kept bringing Lucanis' sleeping body to Rook's room. To feel better.

She always made things better.

Ever since she disappeared, everything around them had dampened. Colors, taste… all of it was muffled without her around. Was she even alive? How could they know? They killed one god, and faced two more. Who could say she hadn’t been vaporized by Solas?

No. I feel her.

“You feel her because this is her room, Spite. You don't know that she lives.”

You give up?

"Never. Not until I see her body."

There's a feeling of approval. Never again lose what's ours.

He should leave her room, if he plans to get anything done today. He needs to travel to Treviso still, update Teia and Viago about Rook. He'd already waited a week too long. He knows the conversation might end up with Viago trying to kill him, but they needed to know. They were her only other family, after all. As he turns to go, he spots a loose piece of paper peeking out from under the couch. Spite urges him to pick it up, stronger than ever.

It's a sketch of himself, outlined in purple. Underneath, the words vhenan as well as the following:

“Say it, before it's too late.”

He thinks to the night before she disappeared, how she'd come for their usual evening drink but was preoccupied. Nervous. Surely she was just anxious about the next day's events, but instead….

She loves him.

He told her not to make a promise she couldn't keep, yet here he was having broken the last half of his. He didn't keep her safe that day.

Should she not return, every blighted creature would feel his blade.

[cybershock24601]

I’ve been stewing on more alternate time travel au where the Veilguard sends themselves to the past trying to rip Rook out of the fade because there’s nothing like trying to save your bestie to make you turn to dangerous and unstable magic

Lucanis spends most of his time helping Harding out with her scout work yet refuses to wear the Inquisition uniform because he is still a Crow at heart which means he wouldn’t be caught dead in such an ugly uniform

Turns out the Orlaisean noble woman Emmrich had a thing with one summer was the wife of the Duke Vivienne’s with and the two of them get together to gossip. Vivienne wishes Emmrich wouldn’t drag along his skeleton every time but he is Nevarran so she will let it go. She also assists in giving Manfred etiquette lessons alongside Emmrich because it’s not like she can let the poor thing go around with such poor diction.

Mentioned this before but Dorian’s crush on Emmrich comes back full force and whoever is romancing him whether it be the Inquisitor or Iron Bull ends up wildly jealous of Emmrich

Hardings new connection with the Stone possibly helping soothe Cullen’s lyrium induced issues

Chess pieces from all over Skyhold start going missing because Cole keeps giving all the rooks to the Veilguard

Leliana offers Bellara a nug and she accepts and now walks around Skyhold with the most adorable nug the world has ever seen

If you thought Emmrich and Davrin were insufferable before, their dad off gets a thousand times worse when Davrin's new mabari starts stealing Manfred's bones and Davrin refuses to admit his good boy did anything wrong even if he is privately scolding the mabari.

Davrin and Cullen end up bonding over the mabari as Cullen ends up offering Davrin some advice on how to train the dog. Turns out mabari are not any easier to train then griffons as both are hyper intelligent animals and require different tactics though bribery seems to be working as well on the dog as it did Assan

Manfred starts copying Cole by giving people random objects but unlike Cole who has some weird esoteric logic behind it, Manfred is really just picking up a cool rock he found on the ground and handing it off to the first person he sees and crying out "HELPING" in his little skeleton voice

Harding is now the one in the awkward age gap relationship because what are you supposed to do when your significant other is now physically 13 years old but still mentally an adult but it’s not like anyone but your close friends know that because to everyone else they’re just 13? Hell if Harding knows

The Veilguard collectively gaslighting the Inquisition about Spite because people down south aren’t nearly going to be as cool about the whole possession situation and their assurances that Spite is chill so every time someone tries to bring up the glowing eyes or wings they come up with some bullshit excuse and stick to it no matter how ridiculous and some of them get real stupid

Neve sees Cullen practically falling asleep on his feet and offers him her cup of coffee. This is a mistake because now Cullen is using his new caffeine addiction to deal with his lyrium withdrawals and the man has never been so productive or strung out. Lucanis is suffering in the background because Cullen makes and drinks the same sort of sludge Neve survives off of.

Josephine and Lucanis end up bonding over their shared disgust over the sort of vile concoctions Neve and Cullen keep producing. Leliana also joins in because Josephine already introduced her to good coffee and she also has strong opinions on the culinary crimes they’re committing. She also has a whole lot to add when Lucanis brings up some of Harding’s more adventurous kitchen adventures because after a year of traveling around Ferelden during the Blight, Leliana has some stories of her own to share about Ferelden cuisine.

Solas who hates tea and wants an in to try to figure out what is going on and how much these people know approaches Lucanis about trying some coffee too only for Lucanis who can be one spiteful motherfucker even without accounting for Spite to essentially pull a “I suddenly don’t know how to read” and brew the most black, vile, and disgusting sludge like pot of coffee for Solas to drink. It would have been kinder for Lucanis to have just spiked his coffee with poison. Spite is in the background cackling at the barely concealed disgust on Solas’ face as Solas pretends he can’t hear Spite’s delighted laughter at Solas’ predicament

[alexendria-rose]

Falling apart~

Lucanis Dellamorte X F!Elf!Rook

Spoilers!!!!!!

Summary- After the fight with the gods and losing the people she cared about- the people she became to love. She falls apart- when nobody can see her. Where she doesn’t have to tell people she is alright when she isn’t anymore. She panics- she spirals. Lucanis knows a little something about that…

We won… but at what cost?

The question that swirled through her head- the question that was going to haunt her for all her years. Why did it have to be her? Why did she have to lead? The blood stained her hands- it stained her whole body- her armor. The lighthouse seemed quieter- which she usually prefer the quiet rather than the noise… but at this moment she was awaiting that noise. The squeaks of assan… the arguing back from Darvin. The sweat voice of Harding- the small chuckles from Neve. She missed it. She wanted to hear those noises. She craved it. She walked into Varrics… well what was suppose to be his room. Looking at the bed she imagined him laying on; giving her advice on how to be a leader. Remembering the worries of becoming one and telling him about it.

She was falling apart- and nobody knew it. Nobody could see it. She was used to putting on facade in front of her team. Always helping them with their work instead of her own- her sleeps interrupted by solas, her body covered in blood and bruises from fighting the demons and anyone that came in their way to make the world a brighter place. Away from the blight and away from the Gods.

She placed her hand on the bed kneeling on the side of it. Her head falling onto the sheets. She wanted to cry- she wanted to shout. But how can someone like her be able too? She needed to hold it together for everyone else who lost people as well. She wasn’t the only one who was hurting and she needed to realize that. She stood up from the floor looking at herself in the mirror- she was skinny. Skinnier than usual- her hair was tangled. Her face was bloody and was sure to scar. She lost herself in this mess. She lost her smile- she lost her laugh. She was staring at someone she couldn’t even recognize anymore. She felt numb.

Rook slowly walks over to her room- her legs dragging as she opened up the door. Her legs felt heavy- her armor felt heavy. Her whole body felt heavy. She swore her legs were going to buckle. She thought about the three friends she lost- Harding… Assan… Darvin… and Neve… she was never going to get them back. She was never going to sit in Harding room as she talked about her old adventures- she was never going to drink the most disgusting tea with Darvin. She was never going to hug and pet Assan and Neve… her best friend. She was never ever going to talk to Neve again. Her chest suddenly felt heavy and she needed this armor off of her. She felt her hands shake as she tried to rip off the clothes that were weighing her down. The tears suddenly started rolling down her cheeks as she felt her throat close up and start to shut so much so she was hyperventilating.

“Rook!?” Lucanis voice came into her ears finally- she didn’t even know how long he was there. Lucanis rushed to her side helping her take off the heavy items off her clothes and throwing it to the side. She was clawing at her throat- trying to even her breathing but she couldn’t. She felt her body shake and her legs buckle as she fell onto her knees- Lucanis swiftly moving himself in front of her gripping onto her shoulders.

“Mi amore look at me. Look at me.” Lucanis said sternly but in a loving way he could. Spite was panicking in his mind- and he was trying his best to keep spite at bay.

“ROOK NEEDS HELP. HELP ROOK!”

Lucanis shook away Spite- knowing exactly what rook was going through. He cupped her cheeks gently- her eyes downcast as she continued hyperventilating; the tears rolling down her cheeks. She couldn’t speak- she could barely move.

“Look at me.” Lucanis said calmly- his gaze on her. She slowly moved her eyes to look at him as he cupped her cheeks. His touch calming her down a bit but not nearly enough. “Breathe with me amore.” He gently moved his hand off her cheek grabbing her hand and placing it on his chest. So she could feel his breathing method under his touch. To know he was here. He took a deep breath- her trying to follow along with the way he took an inhale and an exhale out. She felt the choking around her neck slowly star to become lessen. “You’re doing so well amore. Couple more.” He whispered- she continued to follow along with his breathing technique nodding along with him as he complimented her.

“It’s my fault.” She managed to finally gasp out with a raspy voice. Lucanis shook his head- he’s never seen rook fall apart with all this going on- he knew she was going to eventually but he never thought like this.

“No- it’s not.” He whispered softly- using his hand to tuck the loose hair that fell from her hair behind her ear.

“It is- they’re dead because of my decisions. They’re dead because of me. I couldn’t save them.” She sobbed- her hand moving to her chest as she tried to regulate her breathing once again. The tears flowing down her eye socket. “I was their leader- I’m the one that brought them here and now they’re dead.” She couldn’t stop the tears and maker she hated being weak in front of people. Especially in front of Lucanis. Someone who’s been through way worse than her.

“No- I won’t accept that.” Lucanis grabbed her hand that landed on her chest cradling it against his chest. He brought her knuckles to his lips placing a delicate kiss on them. His eyes never leaving hers. “Those people.” He whispered against her knuckles as he placed yet another soft kiss before moving her hand against his chest once again. “They know what they signed up for- they are hero’s rook. You cannot change the past- and you don’t want to because they saved us. They sacrificed themselves for us. So we can live.” She sniffled looking at him wanting to believe his words- wanting to listen to him but she couldn’t shake off this nagging feeling in her chest.

“I could have done more.” She said in hushed tone- that it was barely audible to hear.

“You did- rook. You saved us. You made the difficult decisions. You lead us and I’m so sorry you had all this weight on your shoulders. I cannot even do what you do. Keeping the team together- and showing how much you care.” He saw her body become less tense- he grabbed her quickly holding her shaking body to his chest. “Look at what you did tonight- you fought against a god amore. And won- you helped Solas change even I couldn’t give him that grace. Honestly if it was me I would have stab him.” He earned a little chuckle from her with that line. “The inquisitor may be gone- but you found it in your heart to bring them together. To change solas. And now they have each other. We all do. You saved us all. You did.” Her body starts to shake less at his words- her gaze on the wall as she listened. His hand went to stroke her hair- even if it was dirty and sweaty from their fight with the gods. He still found her beautiful- beautiful then anything he’s ever seen. And spite very much agrees with that thought. Rook slowly moves her head to look up at him- the dried tears stained on her cheeks. Her eyes red and puffy- maker she was beautiful.

“I miss them- I wish I could bring them back.” She said softly- Lucanis smiles sadly his fingertips tracing her cheek.

“Me too mi amore- and we will honor their memory for years to come.” He mumbles lightly- her gaze piercing into his soul. He could almost shiver under her gaze.

“COMFORT ROOK- LOVE ROOK! SHE DESERVES IT ALL!”

He could agree with spite there- she did deserve it all. And he knew from this moment out he was going to protect his Dalish elf from anything- he was going to be by her side as long as she will have him. Even though spite wouldn’t even let Rook walk away from them. She saw her eyes becoming heavy from the lack of sleep she’s barely gotten in months.

“Come on mi amore- let me get you dressed and wiped down before you sleep.” He chuckles lightly at her nodding sleepily. He scoops her up placing her down on her bed- maker he needed to get an actual bed rather then this small one. She leaned back against the cushion watching as he slowly took off her boots- his hands gently massage her side feet. She leans her head back sighing at the contact.

Lucanis finishes changing her into a loose shirt- that was his. He had to admit- it was pretty lovely on her and it made spite go crazy within him. He grabs a wet rag and a brush. He adjusts himself behind her laying her back against his chest as he slowly starts to wipe the blood off her face; her eyes looking anywhere but him. He knew blood would affect her right now and tried to wipe down the blood as fast as he could without hurting her.

He finished wiping the blood off her body- throwing the rag to the slide. “Sit up mi amore.” He whispered into her ear- which made her shiver. She sit up as she sat between his legs- suddenly she felt him brushing her hair with gentle strokes. His fingers running through her hair with every brush. She looked down at her fingers a small smile on her face.

“Didn’t know you knew how to brush hair.” She said in a soft tone- he can hear the faint smile on her face when she said and he just chuckled.

“Caterina taught me- she insisted and you know how that woman is. Can’t tell her no.” He smiled- as he continued to brush her hair making it smooth once again and no longer tangled.

“Don’t tell me you’ve tried saying no to her?” Rook laughed lightly turning her head to look back at him to see a small smirk on his lips.

“Young me was very… what’s the word. Stupid. Once I said no to her and I had to run from her. Hid for 4 hours.” Lucanis chuckled deeply- he placed the brush down before starting to braid her hair. “Caterina taught me everything I know- most importantly how to treat woman. Iilario didn’t listen to that advice.” Rook rolled her eyes playfully and laughed.

“Remind me to never mess with that woman.” She giggled- Lucanis finished braiding her hair. He moved her hair off to the side placing soft gentle kisses on her neck.

“You’ll learn mi amore- especially… since I am hoping you’ll join me by my side as I settle in being first talon.” Lucanis whispered against her neck. Rook turns her head to look at him- Lucanis moving her head a bit to look back at her.

“You want me… with you?” She hesitantly said turning her whole body to face him- he just smiled widely grabbing her hips to place her directly on his lap- making her straddle him.

“I want you in my arms- I want you by my side. I want to listen to your voice as I sleep. I want you only mi amore. So stay with me in Treviso- the crows are your family now.” She grinned- her eyes becoming teary at his words. She finally felt like she belonged somewhere- and being in Lucanis arms… was where she belonged.

“Always Vhenan~” she whispered- Lucanis heart thumped against his chest. He placed his thumb and finger under her chin bringing her head closer placing a delicate kiss on her lips- a soft and passionate kiss to let her know he will always be there by her side no matter where they go. He will always be there.

[silurisanguine]

For the Nightmare Comfort prompts: 16 and/or 6?

Thank you for these, let's do both! 6 "You don't have to talk about it. I just want you to know I'm here to listen."

16 - "I can whip us up a midnight snack if you want. Maybe even your favorite?"

Lucanis woke suddenly to Spite's frantic voice in his head. His eyes going to Teleri who looked asleep next to him. "Rook. She is Hurting! Cant Keep Her From It." He sat up in bed, expecting a physical attack, his hand grabbing the dagger by the bedside. "No. Not Out There! Here Inside Her Head." Spite shook his head in frustration, trying to make Lucanis understand what he was trying to communicate. He moved their free hand and placed it on Teleri's back and Lucanis suddenly felt the sweat beading over her shivering skin. In the darkness of the room, Lucanis hadn't noticed the sheen of sweat covering her, or the tortured expression over her face when she suddenly turned in bed to face him. She was having a nightmare and it looked like a bad one. He placed the dagger back and gently rubbed his hand over her skin, trying to bring his warmth, his reality to her to pull her out. Spite was standing on the other side of the bed, growling softly. This was no Nightmare demon preying on her - Spite would have hunted and devoured them already. No this was in her own mind of her own making and he needed to bring her back to reality. "Mi Cielo. Wake up love. I'm here, wake up." His soothing voice must have stirred something as Teleri's eyes bolted open, fixing him with a frantic stare as she reached for his face. Her hands cupping his cheeks as if she were proving to herself he was there and real. "Vhenan? You're real...you're here." Her panicked expression hurt him to see. "Eli. I'm real, I'm here." He pulled her into an embrace and there was a moment's tension and then she curled herself into it, resting her head on his chest and he knew it was so she could hear his heartbeat, to prove to herself what ever she'd seen in the dream wasn't real. He wrapped his arms around her, hoping to sooth what ever figurative demon haunted her memory. "You don't have to talk about it. I just want you to know I'm here to listen." "I..." Teleri paused, and he waited to see if she would show her vulnerability to him or deflect with humour, and her response came out in stuttered whispers as if speaking aloud would make what she'd seen real. "Tearstone...Before Solas swopped himself with me...he made me see you....as dead...all that time in the prison...I wasn't sure." Lucanis squeezed his eyes shut. He'd had his own nightmares of that event, of losing her. But what she'd gone through, he didn't know if he would ever have made it out. If he'd seen her dead...All he could do now was be there for her. Spite had retreated back inside him, wanting to feel the way Teleri curled around their shared body. He heard the rumble of his demon's approval at her heartbeat calming down to beat in sync to his and agreed that was a good sign she was calming down. "I'm here and very much alive. Tell me how to prove that to you." He felt the snort of amusement across the skin of his chest and he knew Teleri had already swept aside all that horror she had experienced. It amazed him how she did that. How she could compartmentalise it in order to move on. She was impossible in that way, but he loved her for it. He felt her finger tips delicately tap across his chest as she leaned up and smirked at him, a lascivious grin now on her face. "I can think of a few things that would help, but right now..." She giggled softly at the sudden rumble in her stomach, before looking at him again..."I'm actually starving." He chuckled low in his throat. Those other things that suddenly went through his mind could wait as he was more than happy to prove in every way that he was alive and with her. But make sure she was well fed? That he would do first. "I can whip us up a midnight snack if you want. Maybe even your favorite?" Teleri nodded enthusiastically at that, lifting herself up to place a soft kiss on his lips, that mischievous grin back on her face. "You're my favourite snack. But food first."

[plasticfreckles]

🪶 touchy-feely w spite rookanis enjoy 🪶

"Rook, can I ask?"

"Hmm?" She looks up from her notebook. His habit of logging each hour of the day is working its way through the entire team. If he glances down, he could try to make out the words. But she has a habit of mumbling out what she's writing, so there's no need, really.

The flames of the candles cast dark rings under her eyes. They match, this way. Quiet nights in dim light, comfort in the dark.

"Spite says that, when I fall asleep, you spend time with him?"

"Sometimes," she says, turning a page. Her sparkling lip oil stains the barrel of her pen. In the soft yellow candlelight, it looks a bluish-purple.

"If I'm awake at the same time- don't apologize! You've got nothing to be sorry about, and I don't wanna hear it." Sentence finished, she caps her pen with a small click, pushes the notebook aside and reaches across the table for him. The top of her chest pushes against the wood, both her arms extended, as she peels his hand from his arm, one finger at a time. "It's not like sitting him down with chalk and parchment is a bother."

"He says he woke you up, last night." It almost makes him think, in some small, hasty part of his mind, that maybe they should no longer sleep apart. Even when they're both awake, Lucanis can feel the way Spite settles down beneath her touch. On particularly restless nights, when they're all up, they will sit down with a drink, and Spite will run his hand through Rook's hair and stick his head through the curls, and she'll laugh at the way she sees her own hair stand from her head like witherstalk. He hates how these nights come to be, but treasures them regardless. Some of his most prized memories, when they sit together on his cot in the pantry, barely awake.

Her fingers lace through his. Her nails squeeze into his palm. He remembers this well, her curling his fingers into his own hand, yet somehow sneaking her own inbetween. She'd closed her hand around his like this and held tight, for but a breath - back at Weisshaupt, before waving Solas' dagger into the face of her goddess.

"I don't mind. I wasn't sleeping very well, anyhow."

"I don't want you to feel like you need to babysit my demon. You're not a wet nurse."

"It's like talking to a waterwheel." She lifts her right hand and flicks the forefinger against his temple. "I do not mind it, Querido. Rather spend some time watching him draw than waking up and having to search all Thedas for where he's gone."

Wouldn't wake her. If she minded. I like her. You like her. She likes us BOTH. Won't hurt her. NEVER hurt her. Ours to protect.

If only Lucanis could believe that. He doesn't even necessarily doubt Spite's intentions - he's afraid Rook won't turn away or defend herself to keep Lucanis from harm. Spite could threaten to set her breathing body aflame and she would let him so her touch wouldn't burn Lucanis' skin.

They're both so stubbornly self-sacrificial, in this way.

When Lucanis focuses back on Rook, she's still looking at him; just past his hairline, with her unnerving, steady gaze and her wide eyes.

Her attention is on him entirely, but still avoiding meeting his eye directly; she knows it distresses him, knows he's constantly fighting against it, ready to wait for him for as long as it'll take.

Her dedication is terrifying. It's endearing, too, somehow.

"Tell me what he does." When she moves to sit down next to him, rather than at the head of the dinner table, they don't let go of each other's hands. She traces a finger along a vein in his inner forearm. If he squints, he can pretend her lifted pinky finger is hooked around Spite's.

No pretend! She is. Touching ME.

"Last night?" Her finger reaches the crook of his elbow. She blows out hair from her face. Her fingernail pricks at the vein bulging from his skin at the joint.

"Well, I was tossing anyway and then - oh. Thank you, Spite." The demon moves her hair from her face, both hands through the tresses and holding them behind her ears. Spite cheers. Lucanis feels like crying. The ease in her off-handed acknowledgement of his demon, the way that she cares more about him than about his possession - he's glad she's starting to turn in the direction she feels Spite's pull.

"He's- Spite- he's at your service." Her eyes snap back to his, ready to tease, because they both know Spite never said that.

Then, she sees his expression, the furrow in his brow, his glassy eyes, the purse of his lips - and she lets go of his fingers, frames his left cheek in her hand and rubs under his eyes. She's always so kind and gentle with him. It hurts in his chest to think of it.

"Talk to me." Soft, and quiet. Her hand rests protectively over the flesh under his elbow. He rubs his thumb over hers. "What's wrong? Let me help." He doesn't know how to say what's bothering him. She sees his hesitant nod, watches him swallow and wet his lips, and waits for him.

She shouldn't have to constantly wait for him.

Let me talk to her. I tell her. What's wrong? So wrong! You just want to kiss her. So do you! I won't make her wait.

"Kiss me?"

"Are you asking, or telling?" But she rises from her seat anyway.

THANK YOU. It's the first time Spite thanked him for anything.

She sinks back into her seat, and he moves to follow her. There's a surprised noise in her throat, then a giggle, and her hand moves from his arm into his hair.

She's soft, and warm, and his, and he's never felt more alive.

"Here," she mumbles into his mouth, lets go of his head for a moment, to pull his hands to her waist, in her own hair. "I won't break."

Lucanis is convinced he imagines her shiver when he flexes his fingers against her hip, slides down to hold her close by the back of her neck.

She's strong. We're strong. She can take us! That's not where this is going. It COULD BE.

Her fingers are on his jaw, delicately, as he sighs and pulls back. Just enough to no longer kiss with every spoken word.

"What did he say?"

"It's not for gentle company." Rook snorts.

"I'm hardly gentle company, Lucanis."

And yet, she nuzzles her nose into his hairy cheek. As if she might burst unless she touches him.

He knows he might.

"You're gentler than most. You're the only company that matters." He barely has to move his thumb to the side of her neck, below her ear, for her to move. Her hair sticks to his lips, held into place between their foreheads.

"I don't know if you notice, but - you lean into Spite's touch. You look out for him as much as you do for me. And you look out for me entirely too much, already. Let me finish, please." He hears her intake of breath, feels the sudden cold on his skin before she takes it. She doesn't move, but he can tell from the twitch of her fingers that she relents.

"When you just thanked him for holding your hair, I.. I don't know. It overwhelmed me. That you care about me, enough to deal with Spite." Just speaking it takes all his breath, like he'd spent all day sprinting uphill with weighted ankles.

Rook hums.

"Feelings are hard. But this isn't. You aren't. You don't know half the things I would do, if it meant you breathed a little easier."

"Thank you." It's all he knows to say. She won't listen to his apologies. He's not brave enough to admit her commitment only makes him breathe harder.

"Not for this." She kisses his cheek, just above her own fingertips.

It's not like she can't hear the way he chokes on his own breath, trying to swallow the sounds out of existence.

Her chair creaks underneath her. Her fingertips move, hold him by the curve of his ribs, grabbing over his back to hold the cinch buckle of his waistcoat.

She kisses him like he's the only thing keeping her alive, swipes her tongue over his, and when he mimics her attentions, she whines.

Their foreheads knock together just outside of painful, and they laugh together.

"Still want to know what he said last night?"

"No. Don't stop."

"Never."

🪶

Rook: You're not hard.

Rina[me]: You don't know his PANTS, de Riva.

Dee: Make him breathe HARDER.

Rina[me]: ALRIGHT BET

[~rina]

[rook-knavery]

WIP Wednesday

//

Currently Untitled.

Spite comes to learn that Solas is lurking in Rook’s dreams. He does not like it.

//

Dinner preparations started almost immediately after the mid-day meal. Breakfasts and lunches were a casual affair. People drifted through at odd hours of the day, grazing off of leftovers or foraging something quick from the pantry. The eating practices were inconsistent and not sustainable for an outfit vying to strike down gods. So dinner attendance was mandatory, a rule Lucanis himself implemented after joining Rook and her team — because the eating habits of the women who originally welcomed him to the lighthouse were absolutely abysmal at best, and horrifying at their worst. After integrating himself into the cooking rotation (and booting Harding out), he made sure to put in the effort to provide the team with hearty, well-balanced, and flavorful meals.

It was the night before, as he sipped his coffee and avoided the grasp of sleep, Lucanis decided that the evening meal would consist of gnocchi; potato dumplings covered in fresh pesto, and paired with roasted chicken, oyster mushrooms for Emmrich, and paired with a dry, crisp white wine. It was not a difficult meal to make. In fact, it was quite simple, but when making enough to feed an army of eight it took considerable time, and Lucanis enjoyed every single moment.

The process was perhaps a little tedious, and repetitive. The dough was rolled into a long tube, and cut into chunks. His fingers were used to measure and keep the dumplings consistent; inconsistent sizes meant inconsistent cook times, and so a great deal of care was put into measuring each piece. Then came the meticulous shaping of the dumpling. Each piece of dough was carefully rolled over the tines of a fork to give it the signature rigatura. Lucanis let himself get lost in the motions, pressing the dough over the fork with the pad of his thumb, watching as it pressed and curled under the pressure. Save for the occasional crackle of the fire, the room was quiet, and Lucanis was at peace…

Right until he experienced a surge of acrid, barely contained rage that came upon him like a rabid mabari. The poor lump of dough was crushed between the tines of the fork before Lucanis could manage to process that the anger wasn’t even his.

“Spite?” Lucanis asked the empty room after he had taken a steadying breath.

The demon had been notably absent since breakfast, not that Lucanis was complaining. The lighthouse afforded the two of them a kind of freedom that hadn’t been available in the ossuary, or anywhere else. Spite could wander the grounds of the lighthouse completely unhindered, but they suffered a short leash everywhere else. It was a comfort knowing that Spite couldn’t actually hurt anyone, and no one could hear or see him or be bothered by him. Well, everyone but Emmrich but the demon seemed to hold the necromancer in higher regard than Lucanis himself.

Who is Solas?

The voice was a whisper across his consciousness carrying the impressionable weight of raw, seething, hatred. The feeling resonated within him like an echo; everywhere but nowhere. Existing within him but not actually his.

“Why?” Lucanis asked as he re-rolled the ruined dough between the palms of his hands.

Who is he?

The fury surged, and Lucanis abandoned rolling the gnocchi before he could succumb to the feeling that left him wanting to tear the kitchen apart. Another breath; slow, steady as he paced away from the prep station. Lucanis was not mad. Lucanis was relaxed. Or, at least, he had been until Spite had to come barging back into the forefront of his mind.

“The lighthouse is technically his, but he has been imprisoned in the fade. Rook says he visits when she sleeps. What has you so concerned about him all of a sudden?”

A growl vibrated his senses. Lucanis tensed, ready for the demon to lash out and instead he flinched when the door to the courtyard swung open. Rook shuffled in. Spite was just a step behind behind her. Disheveled would have been a kind way to describe how the elven woman looked in that moment. In fact, she looked more like the embodiment of misery. It was a far cry different from her typical sunny disposition.

“Rook?”

Rook cracked open one of her eyes, and the grimace that accompanied it made even Lucanis wince. It was then that he noticed the hint of red that rimmed her eyes, the puffiness of her cheeks.

What happened?

Ask, Spite growled, sending a glowing glare his way.

“Oh,” she rasped. “Hey, ‘canis.”

It was not her typical greeting. It didn’t come with the usual kindness and warmth as she bid him and Spite a good morning – and it was only then that Lucanis even realized that Rook hadn’t been to breakfast, or even lunch.

“Are you well?” She wasn’t. She very obviously wasn’t.

“Head feels like it’s going to explode. Solas was a right prick last night,” she grumbled, completely oblivious to the demon that was trailing behind her like a shadow. If anyone else saw him they would likely assume that Spite was on the war path, ready to kill the unsuspecting elf at the earliest opportunity.

But when the demon snarled it was at Lucanis.

What. Did. He. Do.

[amellderiva]

My army of hot Rooks

I'm not exactly sure what's the purpose of this post other than my need to ramble, but if you find some enjoyment in it, then hey, it's a win-win for the both of us!

Calypso de Riva

elf-blooded human (27) | spellblade mage | antivan crow | solasmancer

The first of the bunch, mom's unlikely favorite, the one with tragedy in her blood. Fiercely loyal, though in a clingy way, hilarious, though in a cringe-y kind of way, yet somehow still charming. She has endless empathy for others and almost none left for herself. Everything that goes wrong has to be her fault, obviously. She could be literally perfect and still find a flaw to punish herself for, because... idk, she wasn't loved enough as a child? She's the only one of the gang who hated herself just enough to fall for the voice in her head that betrayed her time and time again. She grew up in a Circle listening to how she was being punished by the Maker, maybe that's why.

Astrid Thorne

dwarf (22) | champion warrior | grey warden | lucanismancer

The baby of the bunch, with that unshakable optimism and kindness you only ever find in the young. She's uncertain (about herself, about the world), as the events of Veilguard check off a long list of painful firsts in her life, but she's got a stellar poker face and a steady inner compass that always points to what's right to balance that out. Probably the only one who never let her anger outweigh her pity for Solas. A huge fan of both Lucanis and Spite (equally!), but not exactly thrilled about what their relationship might mean for her future. She respects the Crows as individuals, but perhaps not as an organization? And she actually likes being a Grey Warden, the purpose and the knowledge that she's helping. She'd hate to give that up to become the wife of the First Talon.

Porcia Mercar

elf (29) | duelist rogue | shadow dragon | nevemancer

Easily the most photogenic (probably thanks to that glorious bone structure), and very likely hiding many, many secrets in that hair of hers. She's a "stab first, ask questions later" kind of gal, with anger issues she should really look into. Or at least try to reign in. But she enjoys the intensity of wanting to murder people over the tiniest inconveniences, like walking too slowly in front of her. Or looking at her wrong. Or, even worse, looking at Neve wrong. Don't do that. She has deeply conflicted feelings about Tevinter: on Monday, she wants to burn the whole place down, but by Tuesday, she'd throw herself into the fire to protect it. Hates Solas with the passion of a thousand suns. Frankly, she should've stabbed him more. Stupid ass bitch, how can you fuck up so many plans in a row?

Eurydice Ingellvar

qunari (33) | evoker mage | mourn watcher | davrinmancer

The one who actually has her life together. She knows her strengths, knows her flaws, knows what she likes and what she'll absolutely not tolerate, and she makes her decisions accordingly. She's that friend; you know, the one so competent it's kind of unfair, which somehow makes them insanely attractive, because the adulting is adulting. She's kind without being overbearing and confident without screaming main character energy. Sometimes she drifts into a daydream and gets this ethereal, not entirely here aura, but then she snaps back with the perfect solution to whatever disaster is unfolding. It's amazing. She is amazing, if I can say so myself. Half her friendships implode because people just keep falling in love with her. She's fully convinced she could fix Solas with one hour of weekly conversation over the span of six months. She calls Vorgoth "father" when it's just the two of them. Not in a sexual way.

Evander Aldwir

elf (24) | slayer warrior | veil jumper | bellaramancer

A bit of a himbo, with a generous dash of "notice me senpai" energy. His heart's in the right place, but his impulse control is terminally absent. Sometimes that leads to goofy mishaps, and other times... well, murder. He tends to make rash, heat-of the-moment decisions he soon regrets, but since he hasn't connected the dots between that and his frantic desire to seem grown up, capable, and leader-like, progress isn't even on the table yet. He's deeply manipulable (he wants to believe in/to people), and an absolute simp. Like, if the game would let me, he'd be the party's communal bicycle. Thinks he's a real ladies' man. He's not. Originally a city elf who tried to go Dalish but never really fit in – still salty about that, and way too quick to insult the same gods he worshipped yesterday. He does love his vallaslin, though. And he's convinced Solas probably didn't get much action with the ladies either, which is obviously why he's so self-sabotaging.

Lesha Laidir

human (??) | death caller mage | lord of fortune | taashmancer

She's the group's adrenaline junkie; not full-blown, but definitely hovering in that sweet, reckless zone. The bigger the threat, the better she feels, because the focus that comes with that quiets the general chaos in her mind. She has amnesia, which is just my way of explaining why she looks like a carbon copy of my canon HoF (is it time travel, is it an au, is she an Amell bastard? nobody knows, especially not her). Some days she's chill about it; other days, the need to remember who she was hits so hard she throws herself headfirst into danger just to feel something. Hobbies are a nightmare – everything she tries, her brain goes into overdrive with conspiracy theories about how it might connect to her past. It's exhausting. So instead, she drinks, fights, and lives as hedonistically as the world allows. She wants nothing to do with Solas or any of that ancient elven nonsense. Elga-who? Fen-howrel? And more importantly, why? The past should stay dead and rotting, thank you. She's deeply fond of Taash, and tried to stay away from them as long as she could, believing that they deserve better than her. Taash said that's vashedan.

[himluv]

My Heart (it's been beating)

The penultimate chapter of my Rookanis longfic is here! Chapter 53 of Say My Name (say it twice) – in which the Veilguard make their final attempt against Elgar'nan, and Lucanis makes a long overdue confession.

(a/n: I've decided that the final chapter will go up on Sunday morning, and I'm going to be very obnoxious about it, so I hope you'll join me in celebrating The End of this fic :D)

Read this chapter below or over on ao3!

The morning came too soon. Lucanis had never slept as hard as he had that night. He’d slept the whole night through, dreamless and restful until Rook woke him. He worried that she hadn’t slept, though she swore she did. He wouldn’t blame her if her sleep was fitful – the day ahead of them was daunting to say the least. 

Lucanis and Rook. SLEEP. The demon assured him. Spite watches. Spite protects.

Lucanis sighed, but accepted the demon’s assurances. If she hadn’t slept, he could do nothing about it now, anyway. The faction leaders would arrive at the Lighthouse soon. His quiet, private time with Embria was over. 

So, he dressed quickly in his rumpled, day-old clothes, then helped her dress in her leathers. Their hands brushed and lingered as he fastened her many belts and pouches in place, neither of them eager to leave the other. To end this intimate space they’d carved out for themselves. 

Once she was dressed, he took her hands in his. “Embria…” he looked away. “Today, this fight…”

She squeezed his hands. “Whatever happens,” she said. “We’ll take it on together.” She smiled at him, and though it was a little sad, a little fearful, it was true. “We can handle whatever comes next.”

Lucanis watched her, felt the air leave his lungs in awe. He snorted. “All I have to do is kill a god to keep you out of trouble.” He rolled his eyes at her. “Easy.”

She kissed him, her lips urgent against his, and then she pressed her forehead to his. “Go,” she breathed. “Get changed. I’ll meet you and the others in the dining hall soon.”

He nodded, kissed her one last time, and then left the room to prepare for the final fight. 

By the time Lucanis stepped out of the pantry and into the dining hall, everyone was assembled around the table. Everyone but Rook. The team sat in their usual places, their quiet glances tense. On edge. Strife and Viago stood, staring down at a map of Minrathous. Because, of course, the Fifth Talon had such a thing readily available. 

“Does anyone else want coffee?” He asked the room. 

Taash snorted and Davrin shook his head. Viago glared at him, but nodded once, which Lucanis interpreted as, ‘you’re an idiot, but if you’re going to make some…’ Strife just grunted and crossed his arms, which made Emmrich smile. Antoine and Evka shared a puzzled look, but said nothing. 

Neve shrugged. “I won’t say no to a cup,” she said. 

Lucanis nodded, and set about making enough coffee for the group – he was sure Embria would want a cup as well. 

He’d just handed a steaming mug to Neve when the dining hall door opened, and Rook stepped into the room. 

Rook. Is. Sad, Spite said, glancing at Lucanis from where he crouched before the fire. Said. Goodbyes. Long overdueeeeeee.

He suspected the demon meant Varric. The last time Rook had been in the infirmary alone, she’d thought the dwarf was still alive. She’d gone to him for advice, for guidance. And while Lucanis didn’t understand the magic that had made that possible, he knew that Embria would carry that wound for a long time to come. 

Solas had stolen the memory of her mentor’s death. Had used the likeness of the man she viewed more like a father than any other, to mold her into who he wanted her to be. And he had delayed and compounded her grief in the process. 

No, Embria wasn’t going to get over that anytime soon. But, she could stuff it down for now and focus on the job at hand. 

“Thanks for your patience, everyone,” she said as she approached the table. Lucanis handed her a cup of coffee, which she took wordlessly. There was something in the graze of her fingers on his, in the way she leaned into him just a little. She was ready for the fight ahead, but it wasn’t like the days before Tearstone Island. There was no wall between them, now. Lucanis hoped there never would be again.

Their familiarity must of shown, because Viago raised an eyebrow at Lucanis. Lucanis shrugged and sipped at his coffee, returning his attention to Rook as she laid out their plan of attack. So far, it was all good, straightforward and logical. Embria chose team members to aid certain factions as they worked on getting past the city’s defenses, the giant guardians, and the Venatori mages controlling them. 

“The Crows will handle the mages,” she said. 

Lucanis cradled his cup in both hands, looking down at the map and the various utensils and cups she’d used for pieces. He knew someone from the team needed to go with the Crows, and if anyone was going to succeed at killing the cult leader, it would be him. But, still, he hesitated… he didn’t want her to send him away while she took someone else to the fight with Elgar’nan. 

But, the mission’s success was more important than their personal feelings. They both knew that. 

“Someone should go with the Crows,” he said. He kept his eyes on the map, unable to look at her. 

“You’re right,” she said. There was a long pause as she considered it. “Taash,” she said. “Time to earn that cape.”

“Yes,” they said, nodding and pumping one fist. 

“Contract accepted,” Viago said, the barest smirk on his lips. 

Lucanis glanced at Embria, and for a second he saw the truth in her eyes – she couldn’t leave him behind. He would be by her side to the very end. As it should be. 

Yesssssssss, Spite hissed. We protect. Our ROOK!

He took another sip of coffee to disguise the smile that crept across his face. He would be there with her, and this time, they were going to win. 

The fight through Hightown was one of the more harrowing fights in Lucanis’s life. There seemed to be no end to the Venatori or the darkspawn, and Elgar’nan’s archdemon was even bigger than he remembered it being. Surely it hadn’t been this large at Arlathan Crater?

They’d briefly teamed up with Solas, which… Lucanis had not liked. He wanted to kill the man, wanted to make him feel a sliver of the pain he had inflicted on Rook, to sink that lyrium dagger into his heart up to the hilt. 

But, he knew Embria had made the right choice. They couldn’t face Elgar’nan until the archdemon was down, and they could not take out that dragon without the Dread Wolf’s help. So, they’d run with the wolf through the once lavish streets of Minrathous’s Hightown, now choked and crumbling with blight. 

They’d made good progress, and though the fight was a slog, the further they climbed toward the archon’s palace, the more Lucanis thought they might actually win. And then, the best thing had happened, something he had not dared hope for. 

They had found Bellara. 

She was blighted, had been inside a blight eruption, directing blight tendrils under Elgar’nan’s command. She looked… terrifying, if he was being honest. Her eyes burned red and streaks of blight laced around her eyes, beneath the skin. Her lips were pale, almost gray, and she seemed constantly woozy, or disoriented. She said she could still hear the blight, could hear Elgar’nan, but she was herself again. 

Neve had been overwhelmed with relief, as close to tears as Lucanis thought anyone might ever see her. And now that she had Bellara back, she kept close her close. She would not lose her again. Lucanis understood that feeling all too well. 

But, they were all safe for the moment, holed away in what was apparently the Imperial Divine’s home. A home Ashur seemed very familiar with, though if anyone else noticed, they kept it to themselves. Ashur had been a staunch ally, had sacrifice himself to protect his city and his people. Lucanis respected that, immensely. But, Lucanis had no time for theorizing about the Viper’s true identity.

At the nearby table, Rook and Bellara were speaking with the Inquisitor and Morrigan. Lucanis listened, but struggled to focus. He was agitated, that same feeling he’d had before Ivenci’s contract came due. Elgar’nan’s death was upon him and Lucanis did not want to wait any longer. 

And neither did Spite. The demon was prowling the room, sniffing at their companions and at doorways, as if searching for a way out. Eager to be on their way to end this contract. His incessant pacing only compounded Lucanis’s impatience.

But, they both needed the reprieve after the fight to get this far. He was already a little tired, a little sore. And the hardest part was still to come. So he stood in his corner, listening with only half his mind, and focusing on his breathing with the rest. He needed to be ready. He needed to focus. 

But then he noticed Rook making her rounds with the team. This was it, the final moments. And, of course, she saved him for last. 

She approached him in his corner, just secluded enough from the others to feel a sense of privacy. 

“Lucanis?” She asked, already clued in to his fractious mood. “Everything all right?”

“We have made it here and fared well in the fight,” he said, his voice low and harsh. “No we only have to wait.” He glanced at his demon, who was still prowling the room. “But, Spite grows impatient… as do I.” Lucanis rolled his neck and shoulders. “This may be the calm before the final storm, but I don’t feel it.”

“If there’s anything I can do…” There was that little crease in her brow. The one that meant she was worried about him. There’d been a time when he felt guilty each time he saw it, but now… he loved it. Loved that she was here to be worried about him. 

Lucanis smiled, just a little. “Your presence has already helped.”

Embria sighed. “It won’t be much longer.”

He scowled. “Elgar’nan’s life is measured in hours,” he said. The god-tyrant would fall today. “As for Solas…” he shook his head. “He used blood magic against you. He betrayed us. He pulled you into that prison.” His voice nearly broke, the anger resurging with a new lance of pain. No one deserved to be locked away with their own worst thoughts. Not him and certainly not Embria.  

He frowned and looked away from Rook. “I leave his fate to you, but I will not let him hurt you.”

“… Lucanis.” She reached for him, but didn’t touch him.

He sighed. “Whatever happens, my contract was for the blighted gods. Today it is fulfilled.”

She looked down, her brow pulled low. “If I’d never gone to the Crows, if I’d never found you…” Her voice trembled as she looked back up at him with shining eyes. “I’m just so grateful I did.”

He smiled. “As am I. More than I’ve ever told you…” He looked at her, really looked at her in the moment. She looked tired but ready. Determined. Her eyes were clear, if a little moist, and she was gorgeous. They were about to face at least one god. And there was no guarantee they would get another chance to say what needed to be said. It was now or never. 

“Rook. Saying I owe you my life is not enough.” He frowned, looking down at their feet. “You know my mind.” She knew it better than himself, somedays. “I’ve assumed you know my heart because…” he took a deep breath and then looked directly into her eyes. “It beats for you. It’s been beating…” 

Mierda, why was this difficult? Why was he still so bad at talking about his heart? 

“When I wanted you. When I was afraid to want you…” That still wasn’t it. He still hadn’t said the words he’d carried between his ribs all these months. “Tell me this ends with me asleep in your arms, and I will kill any god you ask.”

Embria stared at him, her eyes shimmering in the glow from the candles and the nearby fire. “Lucanis, I…”

He reached for her hand and held it tight. She laced her fingers through his and squeezed. And the warmth between them in that moment was all it took for his heart to overflow. Then the words poured from him. 

“I love you, Embria. And I won’t let you down.” 

For a heartbeat, she only watched him, her heart in her eyes. Then she tugged on his hand and pulled him to her. She kissed him, urgent and fierce and yet, somehow soft. He knew the others could see them, knew that this was a very public display in front of more than just the team. The Inquisitor, Morrigan, Dorian and so many others.

Lucanis didn’t care in the slightest. He returned her kiss, poured every ounce of the devotion he carried for her into where their lips met. If nothing else, she would face Elgar’nan without a single doubt that she was cherished. That she was loved. 

The kiss ended, and Embria pressed her forehead to his. “You could never let me down,” she breathed. “I love you, Lucanis.”

He closed his eyes, shared her breath, and let her forehead against his be his anchor. Because hearing her say those words rocked him. He was awash in a warmth like nothing he’d ever known. Not the fiery heat of passion, nor the furious burn of rage. Not the white hot, electric charge he often felt when they were alone together. 

This was something else. Something soft. A suffuse glow that spread from his chest, traveled along his veins into the very edges of him. It felt like lying in the mid-day sun after a cold swim, only better – Embria’s love would never burn him.

Lucanis took a shuddering breath. “The gods fall today,” he said.

She nodded, just a little movement against his forehead. “And then we go home,” she said. 

He smiled. That was the second best thing she’d said to him that day. And Lucanis would do everything in his power to make sure her words came true.

[tadpole-apocalypse]

A Veilguard rant under the cut, most about Lucanis and the romances

It just continues to piss me off. The fact that they hyped this game as “the most romantic dragon age” feels so slimy and manipulative to me given what we actually got. I am so completely baffled and frustrated they spent resources focusing on companion/npc romances when the state of a player romance was THIS. Why should I care if Taash and Harding are together if my RO ignores me until the very end of the game and only shows an emotion when he’s flirting with someone else?

Rook has more chemistry with Spite and I would have rather romanced it instead. At least Spite wanted to talk to Rook.

I thought that his complete non reaction to Rook’s flirting was part of his story, and would be addressed later. I was wrong. Instead there was no story.

I havent gone back to my elven Rook since I locked into his romance and watched the rest of his scenes (well, SCENE) on YouTube. My breaking point was the second scene with the Inquistor, where she’s sharing about her relationship with Solas. At the end she’s like… “Now tell me about you and Lucanis…”

And I’m like GIRL what is there to tell? Are we dating? You apparently know more that me. There’s been no passion, no connection. I don’t know anything more about him that I didn’t know before romancing him.

That, and then the fact the game refused to let me roleplay as Dalish just really made me not want to keep playing.

I’m just going to set aside the game until I cool off about it I guess. It just sucks! I want to like this game so much. I like seeing my mutuals having fun with it, making new OCs and stories for them. I just can’t get into that mindset now with the absolutely nothing dramatic for me to sink my teeth into. I would rather put my energy into making more stories for bg3.

Also Corypheus is a way hotter blighted villain than Elgar’nan. I said what I said.

[krems-chair]

I wanted Solas to be able to steal your companions (or at least some of them) away from you

On my first playthrough I genuinely thought that the test of your leadership abilities was going to be if you could keep your team together despite the machinations of the Dread Wolf himself. Obviously that was not the case, but I like the idea enough still that I want to share it now!

(Idk if I should tag this as a critique or not because while it IS me saying I wish the game had done this, that sentiment is also like. The extent of the displeasure you will hear from me in this particular post. So instead, I'll just put the divider in and give everyone a heads up now that while I am about to descend into a spiral about something I think would have been cool, me describing the cool thing I would have liked is not peppered with hate and might therefore still be fun for you to read. )

My brain went off the rails the first time I heard Harding tell Rook and Neve that Solas can go into people's dreams and kill them. (Which, was this something we learned in Inquisition/Trespasser and I missed it? I totally probably did if that's the case because I did not do a replay before jumping into Veilguard, but that line freaked me out when I first heard it lol I was like "since when?!").

While Rook assures both that they're a-okay, all good, it's just a little bid of blood magic, I thought we had just been blessed with some hella foreshadowing. Based on:

-My belief that Solas was going to have followers at his disposal

-The knowledge that he likes to mirror people and give them what they're dishing out

-Him telling Rook that once he found out they were pursuing him, he did his research

-My belief that reminiscent of other games, low approval could result in companions turning on you/leaving the party/speaking against you

I thought that Rook was going to learn that at some point in the game, Solas approached the Veilguard companions in their dreams and tried to sway them either to join him or abandon their leader. And I think there was a lot of opportunity for this to work really well.

Lucanis is perhaps the easiest example to work with here, but there's potential with all the companions because all of them can relate to Solas' experiences.

Solas, through communications in the dreams of his followers or through snooping through Lucanis' himself, would have been interested in the parallel the two share of "extreme loyalty to an important woman in their life that they look up to and take orders from" when it comes to Mythal and Caterina. Solas also knows what it's like to be gone from the world as you understand it to be for a long time and struggle with the adjustment to come back. It would have been wild to find out that he inserted himself as an interested party who sympathizes with Lucanis' struggle and had slowly been showing him all the reasons he shouldn't put all his faith in Rook while playing as a supportive mentor to Rook at the exact same time.

I think depending on how Rook handled Spite, it would have been interesting at either high approval to have Lucanis be like "hey I just want you to know that Spite caught Solas snooping around in my head last night and we shut him tf out" or a low approval Lucanis being convinced that there's no place for him at the Lighthouse/he isn't understood/is too feared and that he needs to try and help through other means. That, consequently, would create some additional difficulty when it comes to trying to kill Ghilan'nain or gain loyalty with the Crows.

And obviously him going for every single companion would have been hard to do or made the game repetitive, so maybe if at a certain point in the game it just took your companions with the lowest approval and triggered Solas attempting to sway them, that would be fun and add an element of replayability. And if you manage to raise their approval enough after getting kind of a warning-sign cutscene where they're more frustrated with Rook than usual, they then tell you "hey yeah I heard from him but I shut him out."

For brevity so that this doesn't go on forever:

-He could have very easily nerded out with Emmrich and convinced him that the world he wants is what's best for the spirits (especially since he does genuinely believe this)

-He could have come to Neve and been like "you don't have to like me because I did kill Varric, but you do love your city, don't you? As I loved mine? And wouldn't you do anything for it?" (especially if Rook saves Treviso over Minrathous)

-He could have promised Taash a place amongst his followers where they don't have to hide their fire/potentially shared some compelling truth he learned in his nerd travels about fire-breathers that they, craving more about their identity, would be tempted by

-He could have tried to play on Davrin's sympathies for the griffons and shared that all he wants is to create a world in which those he harmed have a chance to be at their fullest capacity once more, especially after its revealed that the wardens abused the griffons and then hid from their history. (Now, Davrin is a king and I see him being very hard to persuade even at low approval, but I didn't want to exlude him)

-With Bellara, I mean come on. He is the least sinister of the old elves running around, and she has always craved questions. Knowledge about Arlathan is one of the strongest connections she has with Cyrian. I also think he might try and argue that Rook could have spent more time/energy towards rescuing Cyrian, OR offered her information on the Forgotten Ones that would save him in exchange for her assistance

-Finally, I think it would have been cool if Harding is the only companion Solas actually refuses to try and sway regardless of their approval with Rook. Much in the same way Varric didn't nickname her because he feared her, I'd like to think Solas would know that having fucked with the dwarves enough, she's off-limits to manipulate because he regrets his actions so much. It would have been a cool way to actually explore that part of the narrative a little more, especially because I personally think (especially if you don't have Cadash in the game or a dwarven Rook) someone deserved to have a tough discussion with him, and given Harding's quest line, it would make sense to be her. Assuming she survives past Ghilan'nain's death, I think a cutscene while Rook is in the fade of him coming to her when we know she wants to believe that he can be saved or else it's all for nothing (I can't remember the exact quote right now, so apologies if I'm way off) and them having a really meaningful conversation about the Titans and the rage she holds would have been cool, especially since they did know each other and fight for the Inquisition together.

So yeah, just some thoughts I've had brewing, that's all.

[miriani-lavellan]

I think it's fascinating how Spite grows and learns over the course of the story - and from a romance perspective, even more so.

We don't really know what Spite began consciousness as. He writes in Lucanis's logbook about being cut from the 'whole,' which suggests to me that what Zara had managed to do was cut material from whatever spirits are made from, rather than summoning one that had already manifested. That she'd managed to cut a blank slate to force into people, intending to shape it to her own ends. Let's not tell Lucanis about this, but... that is pretty fascinating. But she fails, because Lucanis is strong - she even begins to call him 'resilient' before Illario interrupts her.

So. Spite keeps Lucanis alive with his purpose, and Lucanis keeps him from becoming a mindless demon too twisted by pain to do anything but hurt, because we know Lucanis too never abandons a contract, always keeps his promises and - more importantly - also has a loving and gentle nature, perhaps never previously nurtured. Not that he can't be spiteful - he treats his cousin pretty dismissively, and we know one of his tactics in taking down a mage is to taunt them until they are possessed and eaten from the inside by a demon. Sounds pretty spiteful to me!

And perhaps Lucanis knows, on some level, that Spite began as this blank slate. That what Spite became, therefore, must be a reflection of his own state of mind and his own characteristics. And considering Spite can be pretty vicious - no wonder he wonders where he ends and the demon begins.

But when they're out in the world, he begins to see another persective on that. We known Rowan instinctively recognises Spite as a spirit of Determination (so does Solas). We know even when they're struggling, they still fight together in tandem. He is living in spite of everything, he is fighting in spite of the torture, and the pain and all opposition.

And as they continue to fight together, Lucanis - by becoming part of the team - is also allowed to express that other part of his nature, the gentle one he never really has before. This is a Lucanis who goes grocery shopping for them, takes Rook out for coffee, delights at their gifts for him, cooks for them all and seems to genuinely enjoy catering to their preferences. And this, I think, is where Spite begins to see that his purpose as a spirit of Determination can be filled by other means than violence.

We see a little more if Lucanis romances Neve, rather than Rook. We see:

'Spite thinks I should talk to her. Well, not just Spite.'

and I believe if they are in a romance, Spite suggests getting flowers for Neve from the Hossberg wetlands.

Now, isn't that sweet? Why would Spite, a violent demon, be suggesting that Lucanis talk to the woman he likes, to bring her flowers? Why would he, as he tells Taash, accept being told to stop talking and go play with wisps when they're about to be intimate?

I would suggest that pretty quickly, Spite realises that people's determination, their resolve, can also be nurtured as well as more forcefully motivated. That Spite's nature means he can feel very easily when, after a good meal and company, the entire team feel stronger. Happier, more determined to carry on. That Lucanis, when spending time with the person he cares for, feels stronger too.

Sadly, we personally don't see a lot of this with Rook, although as we know Lucanis doesn't want to be embarrassed, I would suggest that Spite is encouraging him (pestering him) the same - and he just doesn't tell us during the game. Most importantly, if Inner Demons is triggered, Spite recognises this: I need help. Lucanis needs help. And instead of taking over his body permanently, he asks for that help instead. He stops trying to go walkabout, and asks Rook to come into Lucanis's dreaming mind and talk down the guards keeping them trapped there. The only time we ever draw our weapons in there is to slash open the red lyrium locks keeping the door's closed.

He has learnt that forcing the issue can only go so far. That actually, as well as the physical fight, it's all the other things that are important too in making people stronger.

'Something as small as providing a treat feels big enough to matter.'

And it does. Spite learns this, and grows. He still sulks and protests, but he asks for help. From Rook, and from Emmrich - asking him to teach him fire. He offers his skills in other ways, too - pulling structures from the Fade to help us find our way, but also - 'Want to? Fly like dragon?'

He's still a little misguided, there. Flinging fire about is... an interesting idea, and the idea of our short assassin heaving Taash up to the air is probably not quite it either. But he's learning, and growing, and when the wings finally come out to embrace Rook when Lucanis kisses them, it's a stunning display of gentle affection that I think neither of them, back in the depths of the Ossuary, probably neither of them would ever have thought possible.

[lottiesnotebook]

Prompt: Something that was right under Cara's nose for weeks but she wasn't aware until it was deadly

Oof Cara is having a Bad Week. This one turned out reeeeally long, but I love how it turned out so much that in my heart it is canon now, so I really hope you have fun with it.

Cara 'Rook' Hawke-Laidir/Spite/(Lucanis), pre-relationship, possession, hallucinations, nightmares, injury, burns

@rookgallustroublesomehousehimbo | @dadrunkwriting

someone watching over me

Perhaps she might have suspected the necklace from the first, if it hadn’t been a gift from Isabela. She’d draped it carelessly around Cara’s neck after her fifth victory in the Hall of Valor, ‘a prize for my best bet’, she’d added, with a slap to her arse lest anyone take it as sentiment for the girl who got away with calling her ‘Aunt Iz’. It was a lovely thing — a glimmering fire opal the size of a pigeon’s heart on a long, gilded chain — but not valuable enough to be immoderate as a prize for her winnings, and she treasured it all the more for that. For once, she felt she’d earned it, and she seldom took it off, whether in the Hall, aboard a ship, or, later, on the road with Varric. She wore it for so long that when things started to go wrong, she hardly thought to blame the necklace.

It started the first time she truly slept in the Lighthouse — nightmares in amber and yellow that she only half-remembered on waking, but they left her drenched in sweat and shivering nonetheless.

“Are you sure you should be up?” Lace asked her at breakfast, kneeling atop her chair to press a hand to her forehead that Cara tried and failed to duck away from. “You look… fever-y.”

“I just slept badly,” she replied, quickly, and then wished she hadn’t: Harding and Neve both looked at her with nauseating sympathy that felt utterly undeserved, when Lace still carried the marks of Cara’s mistakes on her face. “Maybe it was Solas. Or, you know… everything else.”

She shuddered, and fidgeted with her pendant to cover it. It felt comfortingly warm in the palm of her hand, the only warmth in the dim, drafty library.

“We’ve all got plenty of reason to have bad dreams,” Neve said, with her usual diplomacy. “It’s not exactly the greatest mystery on our plates. But if it keeps happening, let me know. In the Fade, these things can be… significant.”

Harding poked her tongue at them both. “You mages and your doomful declarations. I think I’m well out of your dreaming nonsense.”

Cara would usually have retorted with some flippant comment on not missing what you never had, if for no other reason than to get Harding back for treating her like a child, but she didn’t have the heart to bicker, at least, not then.

She didn’t think about the nightmares, at least for a little while. They slept in the forests of Arlathan, the inns of Treviso, and most nights she was too exhausted to dream at all, let alone think any further on old nightmares. It was only when an ambush by Venatori forced an early stop in the Crossroads that she felt it again — the chill in the air that sent a shiver down her spine, and the smell of smoke that clung to everything from her cloak to the inside of her tent.

Lucanis seemed discomfited too — she could see the hazy purple shadow of Spite coalescing into something a little more solid around his shoulders, see the flicker of his dark pupils as he tried not to react to the voice only he could hear.

“Does Spite have some opinions they want the rest of us to hear?” she offered, and he winced.

“None fit to share with company,” he replied, with a forced smile, and then, after a few more moments of eerie whispering from the spirit: “He says he doesn’t like your necklace.”

She drew it out from the neckline of her shirt, and took a moment to preen at the way his gaze lingered a little too long on the shadows between her breasts. “This little thing?”

“Um-” he began, and Spite burst through:

“Ugly thing! Cut it, smash it, break it! Our Rook, our mortals, no-one else’s-”

“It’s hardly a love token-” Cara began, with a laugh, but Lucanis shook his head, reasserted control with the usual frown that did not, in her opinion, suit him.

“You see,” he said, drily, “not fit for company.”

“I see that,” she said. She could read the mortification in his features, and for all her experience with ‘abominations’, she did not yet know him well enough to do anything but leave it unacknowledged. Training her gaze on the now-roiling haze, she offered: “Would it help to know it was just a present from my aunt?”

There was a pause, then another speaking wince. “Apparently not. Apologies, Rook, he is- opinionated tonight.”

He’s allowed to have opinions, Cara wanted to say, but she could tell it wasn’t the right moment for it, so she retreated to her tent, to shiver herself to sleep and dream feverish, fretful dreams. She knew she must have slept, at least a little, because she remembered waking breathless and close to screaming, but exhaustion had them slipping from her memory like water through her fingers. She remembered the screams, and the smell of burning, but those were old, familiar dreams, and she shoved them down below the floorboards of her mind where they belonged.

It was after the third time she slept in the Fade that the nightmares began to creep into her waking world. It was small things at first — the smell of smoke clinging to her clothes, her hair, her skin, no matter how hard she tried to scrub it out. Then larger slips — when Emmrich or Bellara leant across the table to pass over side dishes or wine, she’d yelp, seeing their flowing sleeves catch in the candleflames, only to have the rest of the table turn to look at her rather than the fire she thought she saw catching on their clothing, their skin, their hair. A trick of the Fade, she realised, the second or third time everyone stared at her rather than the blaze — a waking nightmare brought on by exhaustion or stress.

“A splinter again,” she offered, lamely, but this time the looks she received were more suspicious.

“You’re sure you’re not getting sick?” Lace said again, but over her shoulder, Lucanis was wincing at a sound only he could hear.

“I don’t think so...” This time she was less certain in her reply, and Lace could tell — she was forced to accept the vile-tasting tonic that Ma Harding swore by to stave off a cold, and sent to get an early night. The glimmering green light of her room was oddly soothing to her aching eyes. Nothing burned underwater, and she fixed her eyes on the shimmering fish-spirits until they fluttered shut.

Then she was in the burning city again, knee-deep in ash and stumbling through a crowd of people fleeing in all directions. Some of them were still aflame, others… others had the blackened, withered look of things fire had burned through long ago, but still they could scream, and run, and beg, even though there was no saving them. It hadn’t been like this, even in her memory: then the ash had hung in the air like snow, and her mother had held her hand tight as they ran, but now she was alone, no longer a child, and she knew, somehow, this was all her fault. Even as she summoned frost to her fingers to dampen the fire, spirit magic to heal the bones, each person she reached to heal or save crumbled to charcoal at her touch.

Bellara looked up at her with wide, panicked eyes, Neve with exhausted resignation, Davrin with grim, stoicism, a Warden to the end. Lace… Lace looked at her with a terrible forgiveness, and still, she couldn’t save her. She couldn’t save any of them, she couldn’t save the city, and still, they looked to her as they fell. When she saw Lucanis’ violet-shrouded shadow, his winged coat already alight, she already knew how it would end, but still she struggled forward, even as she knew she wouldn’t- couldn’t get there in time-

She reached out a hand to his shoulder, and he turned to face her, his face already a blackened ruin, and she screamed, from horror and from rage, that despite all her promises, he was beyond her help. Then the purple mist around them rose up to swallow them both, and she remembered, with strange, giddy relief: Spite.

Our Rook, she felt, murmured in her bones, and nestled into it, the strange sense of safety as the spirit enshrouded her. Silly Rook. Should have listened the first time, but no matter. Can fix this ourself.

The pain that woke her was a brief, stinging snap as the chain around her neck broke, but it was quickly swallowed by a far more potent agony: her hands-

The world turned white with pain then. She couldn’t say, later, whether it was her scream or Lucanis’ that brought the rest of the group running, but when she came back to herself, she was sat beside him on his narrow cot at the back of the kitchen, and the rest of the group had crowded into the kitchen in various states of undress. Bellara was smoothing some sort of soothing poultice onto her her burned hands, while Emmrich picked iridescent shards of glass from Lucanis’.

“What…” She blinked, glanced at the crowd of worried faces, and realised they were all expecting the same answers from her.

“You were- ah- sleepwalking,” Lucanis informed her, but his gaze remained fixed on his hands rather than on her face. “And you were lucky. If Spite had done anything more before everyone came running… You should have let him run before. We are a liability to your cause.”

“I think,” Emmrich said cautiously, “you both may be operating under a misapprehension.”

“What misapprehension?” Lucanis snapped, drawing his hand back with a hiss. “She could have lost her hands. Her neck- she looks half-garrotted! And poorly so!”

“I don’t think Spite-” Cara began, but then Bellara began to wrap bandages around her burned palms, and her voice choked off into a strangled squawk.

“I believe,” Emmrich continued, on her behalf, “that Spite was attempting to aid our dear Rook, rather than harm her. You’ve mentioned before he has- something of a fondness for her?”

Lucanis made a noise that resembled a growl, but did not deny it, lips pressed tight to prevent any errant opinions from Spite escaping.

“These shards are from your necklace, are they not, Cara?” The necromancer’s tone was low and calm, and grounded Cara enough that she could begin to put the pieces together herself.

“Spite mentioned disliking it…” She narrowed her eyes. “Do you think there was some kind of curse on it? Something only a spirit could see?”

“Not a curse, exactly,” Emmrich clarified, but he looked almost proud of her. “A shard of a deceased spirit, bound, I suspect, by a less-than-ethical mage. As long as it remained outside the Fade, its effects were likely passive — providing its wearer an intimidating aura, perhaps, or striking fear into the hearts of attackers. But once it was returned to its spiritual home…”

“It began to recover,” she realised. “Going from a fragment of a spirit to-”

“A demon of fear,” Emmrich finished. “You mentioned trouble sleeping while in the Fade. Nightmares, perhaps?”

She nodded, shuddered, and the phantom smell of smoke and burning flesh filled her nostrils..

“And her hands?” Lucanis prompted. “You believe this demon did- what, exactly? Forced her hands into the flames? Is it not more likely that Spite-?”

“No,” she said, unthinking. “No, Spite was- they were in my dream.”

“That doesn’t make it better-”

“They were the only thing that wasn’t part of the nightmare.” She swallowed, and raised her head, meeting Lucanis’ eyes. “Demons don’t scare me. Fire does.”

“Then you are a fool,” Lucanis said, coolly, and looked back down to his bloodied hands.

Cara felt her cheeks heat, and blinked back tears that only had a little to do with the pain in her hands. She avoided Lucanis after that, chased leads anywhere but Treviso and worked with anyone but him. She would not have called herself proud, but she did not want to see who she was reflected in his eyes — a foolish little girl who did not know the meaning of fear. As if, during her nightmares, and the scenes they recreated, she did not have an intimate knowledge of terror.

Despite her newfound knowledge, she missed the comforting weight of the pendant around her neck. She missed the peace it had given her, the faith in her own strength, in her aunt’s affection. She missed believing that her mind was a fortress inviolate, and that there was nothing in her nightmares that did not come from within. She missed sleep. Even without the remains of a demon haunting her, it did not come easily any more.

She wasn’t asleep when her bedroom door crept open, when a purple light crept across the floor to mingle with the green.

“Rook,” Spite greeted her, and she yawned, stretched, patted the couch in an invitation to sit. “You do not sleep.”

“I could say the same to you,” she retorted, and the spirit snorted.

“We are not the same.”

“No,” she said, folding her arms. “Lucanis made that very clear.”

“Lucanis is angry. He blames us. Stupid!” Spite’s hand curled into a fist, nails cutting crescents into Lucanis’ palms, pricking blood. It took so long, she recalled, for spirits to adjust to the frailty of mortal forms. She took their hand in both her own, gently unbound it.

“He’s scared,” she said.

“Always scared!” they snapped, then, gaze focussing on their hands, entwined. “Rook is never scared, though. Not of us.”

“You did save me,” she reminded them, and Spite grinned. It was nothing like Lucanis’ tight-lipped smile, all too-sharp teeth and glittering malice. It suited them.

“Our Rook,” the spirit said, and brushed a lock of her hair back from her face. “Sleep. No demon will touch your dreams again.”

It should not have made her more comfortable, to know that there was a demon watching over her as she slept, but now, at least, her dreams were tinged with soft violet, rather than burning flame.

[mumms-the-word]

Tag you’re it!!

Share some great fics that you’ve read recently and tag five people to keep the hype train going!

NICE I absolutely have some fics to recommend! They’re all DATV because there are plenty of people recommending BG3 fics and the DA stuff needs love too so I might as well contribute!

In no particular ranking or order~

The Snake and the Crow by @weaveandwood - An absolutely stunning Crow Rook x Viper fic that alternates between steamy flashbacks of their whirlwind romance and angst-riddled scenes of them trying to determine how their relationship can stand after Viper has been blighted during the attack on Minrathous. It’s in process but every chapter is a banger and the idea overall is brilliant. EASILY the best Viper fic on the interwebs in my very biased opinion

The Warden’s Watcher by @sorceresssundries - Another in-progress longfic but this one features a Warden Rook x Emmrich. Grace Thorne is at the end of her Warden journey and is hearing the Calling but has ignored it to join Varric’s team. Along the way she falls in love with Emmrich, who is notoriously afraid of death, so their whole dynamic is just *chefs kiss* so good. Poetic descriptions, angsty pining, a kind of doomed romance vibe but there’s enough hope to keep them (and us) going so I can’t recommend it enough

Atonement by @elspethdekarios - An absolutely beautifully written glimpse at Solavellan after the events of DATV, when they step into the Fade Prison together. It’s a oneshot but it may turn into something more (who knows!) but for now it’s this heart-aching piece that lets us see beyond the veil (and beyond the Veil haha) to the first moments Solas and Lavellan (Sulah in this case) share now that the world is safe and they’re finally together again. It doesn’t pull punches but it’s also sweet and romantic!

Yours. Mine. Ours. by @cheerysmores - Holy smutballs Batman, if you want spice, Spite, and sweetness all in one fic this is the PLACE to go! It’s a threesome (kind of?) smut fic featuring Phyrra Mercar and Lucanis/Spite and it’s up there with one of the most gorgeous things I’ve read in recent memory. Spite and Lucanis are equally invested in Phyrra’s pleasure in different ways and it’s so cool to see those differences brought to life and see how distinct both Lucanis and Spite are. Top tier smut and feels and everything rolled into one 5k oneshot

There are so many others too, both by these authors and by @orangekittyenergy and @callmethebrightness and a dozen others I could tag relentlessly but these are the ones I read and enjoyed in the last couple of weeks ❤️

check them out!!

[rook-knavery]

WIP WEDNESDAY

//

Currently Untitled. Still unedited.

A little more of this thing, because gang the going has been slow.

Spite comes to learn that Solas is lurking in Rook’s dreams. He does not like it.

//

“Rook, why don’t you sit down. I will get you something to eat. In the meantime, perhaps you can explain to Spite what happened.”

Rook’s frown deepened, brows scrunching as she migrated to the closest chair.

As she lowered into the seat she asked, “Spite?”

“It will keep you occupied while I throw something together. Plus, he seems quite curious.” Lucanis would not tell her that the demon seemed concerned, or protective. He would not tell her that Spite came in with her, walking so close he could have been her shadow. He would not politely inform her that he would likely bleed all over the kitchen — and the gnocchi — if he didn’t at least try to get an explanation on the demon’s behalf.

“Okay, um… Good morning, Spite.” She slouched into the chair, leaning her elbows on the table so she could press her eyes against her palms.

There was a huff from the demon as he moved to stand directly across from her. Afternoon. Tell her.

Lucanis did, if only because there was a softness in the demon’s tone that threw him off guard. He wouldn’t mention that, either. Or the way frenzied energy that surged from Spite seemed to ease when she addressed him. Instead, he busied himself from his fretful thoughts by making his way to his room — the pantry.

“Solas is… Well, technically he is an elven god, but he’s been trapped in the fade. Specifically a fade prison that is linked to me because I’m just lucky, I suppose. Well, I mean, it’s because blood—”

When Lucanis stepped into the pantry and the door shut behind him, Rook’s voice faded away.

There were various, easy foods he could ply her with. Their team were snackers at heart, and there was a wide variety of no-prep options — but after missing breakfast, and lunch, and shuffling in with what looked like the mother of all headaches he wanted to give Rook something comforting, and cozy. Something that would hold her over until supper was finished. He pulled a woven bag of oats from the shelves, along with his hidden jar of cinnamon and a green apple from the nearly empty bushel tucked into the corner. Porridge with apples, cinnamon and brown sugar. Maybe some toasted bread with butter, if she wanted anything else.

Rook was still speaking when he left the pantry, her voice a little ragged, gently chafing as she said, “… It’s not like he attacked me or anything, but sometimes it seems like the fade itself gets mad at me whenever he does, if that makes sense? Sometimes I wake up and I feel so drained, and hurt. Maker, and when we aren’t just in the prison he is providing live fucking commentary on my dreams.” She heaved a sigh that made her whole body deflate. “And before you suggest it, I can’t just not sleep. Lucanis and Neve are built different. I think I’d actually die.”

No, Spite rumbled. Do not die.

“Not like it isn’t an improbability anyway, right? We are fighting gods, but—“

I said no. You will not—

“Spite, perhaps you can go fetch Emmrich.” When the answer was a low, irritable growl he added, “He can help Rook.”

And he’d be damned if it didn’t work. The growling immediately ceased, and while Spite lingered for a moment more to watch Rook, he vanished into nothing a beat later. How troubling; but also how good to know.

“Is he still here?”

“No. He left.” He passed Rook as he made his way over to the stove.

“He didn’t actually just listen to me vent, did he?”

“He did. It would appear that he does not like it when you speak of your own death. If you could avoid such a subject in the future that would be appreciated.”

Rook hummed and murmured a quiet apology. “I didn’t think he’d care.”

It is frightening how much he actually cares, he thought. But he couldn’t fathom why. Lucanis could only speculate, and he often wondered if it was because Rook had been the first person to address him as something other than a tool, or a thing to be rid of.

It couldn’t be good to be cared about by a demon.

It took a couple of minutes to get the woodstove stoked and warmed. Kindling was fed into the oven and lit, the building heat eventually bringing the stove top to temperature. A sauce pot was placed on the surface and he filled it with a helping of the oats, water, and a pad of softened butter. Emmrich arrived not long after Lucanis had finished peeling and chopping the apple. Manfred and Spite followed just behind. They were an interesting trio. Emmrich’s immaculate poise, to Manfred’s stilted lumbering gait, to Spite’s haunched, predatory prowling.

“— when one considers that the particular instance of the fade is imprisoning an ancient elven god. And if my understanding of the situation is correct, he is linked to—“ The formal lecturing fell away and softened the moment Emmrich’s eyes found Rook’s slumped figure. “Oh, Rook, my dear girl. Why didn’t you call for me?”

Lucanis put his back to the two to give them what privacy he could. The oats were starting to bubble. He retrieved the jar of brown sugar from the shelving about his prep station. Three spoonfuls were added.

“You’ve got better things to do than taking care of my headaches,” Rook grumbled.

“If I ever gave you the impression that assisting you was an inconvenience I do sorely apologize. Please know that is never the case. I’m always more than happy to lend a hand whenever I am able. Have you eaten anything today? You were notably absent at breakfast.” He tutted.

She did not eat breakfast or lunch, Spite hissed before Rook could even speak. This is the first time she has left her room.

Lucanis turned to look at Spite only to immediately meet Emmrich’s surprised gaze. Spite was standing close to the two, practically hovering over Rook as he observed the way Emmrich had pressed the back of his bare hand against her forehead.

When Emmrich’s brows rose into his hairline in a silent question, Lucanis replied, “Don’t ask me.” He didn’t know. He had no damn clue and he was sure that Spite would refuse to elaborate in a way that made sense.

“Come now—“

“I do not know, Emmrich. Truly.”

When Manfred came to his side and reached for the stirring spoon, Lucanis let him take it. He was rather partial to Curiosity’s much more gentle nature and didn’t mind humoring him when the situation allowed. Manfred started stirring the porridge, first one way and then the next. The wooden spoon left a sizable divot it’s wake then he stirred again the other way. Then a zig-zag across the pot, and a tightly winding swirl. It seemed to be less about the activity of stirring and more the way the thickened oats momentarily retained the path made with the spoon before sluggishly filling in.

“What?” Rook asked, tired eyes opening just to glance between them.

“Spite is being quite helpful, is all,” Emmrich replied gently. “I’m going to use a little magic now. May I?”

“Yes, please.”