loopyloo1213

[loopyloo1213]

Assan deserves all the pets and chin scratches ♥️🥹🙂‍↔️🪶

[loopyloo1213]

Random Mila Mercar lore drop, because it's Rook appreciation week and I love her and also happy pride to her dads, I guess!

(If you ever see the name Hugo - no you didn't, that's Valentin who's name I totally didn't change about 5 times and still am not fully happy with)

Where or when exactly Mila Mercar was born or what her name was is one of life’s mysteries that shall never be answered. The only clue to make a guess is that the local village was mostly occupied by fishermen and the village was rather poor. Unfortunately, it was also in the way when the ship of Quinaris and mercenaries docked their boat, and the resistance the locals showed to the Qun backfired. The soldiers of the Imperial chantry were camping not too far in land, and upon seeing the smoke from the burning houses, rushed to try and help the damage, alas most of the village got wiped out.

When Charon Mercar was facing a pair of mercenaries, a piercing infant’s cry had startled them all, he was the first one to regain his focus and managed to gain the upper hand in the fight. Once the attackers were eliminated, Charon found a child, hidden away on a barrel flipped on it’s side, slightly charred from the fires. A tiny baby girl, could be a couple months maybe, he wouldn’t know. He brings her with him. Since she saved his life he shall save hers. How, that was a problem for later. He named her Mila, after a warrior from a story who laid her life for her people. By the end of the day, he decided he shall raise her as her own, and gave her his last name as well.

Raising a baby among the forces is most uncommon, but Charon Mercar did not have a wife who would take care of the child, neither did he have a staffed home to leave her to. His family questioned his decision. Of course, by the nature of it all it was very sudden, but Charon also never showed any interest in having a family or children of his own, despite the family using every opportunity to strongly suggest he should. But he was a stubborn man, and his decision was made, for whatever reason, it felt right.

His main reason to never wishing for family was mainly rooted in the impossibility of such situation, as he never found interest in women at all. The love of his life took a form of his best friend, with whom he shared a sweet secret bond. They were mostly unbothered by not being able to proudly walk around or getting married. Sex among men in the millitary is not unheard of and soldiers mostly don’t care what their fellow men are up to - more women for them, when they get the opportunity - however as Charon ranked up in the millitary, it became harder to just blend in with the forces, but it did make it easier for him to keep his love close. Things became difficult mainly, once Valentin got a letter with the regular update on what has been happening on the fronts, with a nonchalant footnote ‘I also found a child. Her name is Mila, we shall be keeping her. Love, Charon’.

Despite the initial shock and the argument he was preparing in his head the entire time from reading the letter (about 30 times before barging into his friend’s tent in the middle of the night ’Can you fucking read this for me, I think I’ve lost my mind? Do I have a child?’), once reunited, Hugo just held little Mila and cried. He was a lot more openly emotional man and wished to have a family but was willing to sacrifice it to be with the man he loves most. The last thing he expected was for Charon to be the one to do this, but he couldn’t even be mad at him for not having as little as telling him in more than a single line - nevermind discussing the decision. They managed to keep Mila alive mainly thanks to Isidora, a poor widow of one of his fallen soldiers who lost both her baby and her husband in the same week. She stayed with them to keep the girl alive until Mila was able to sustain herself without a mother and once she didn’t need her anymore she joined the chantry as one of the sisters.

Two men raising a daughter was not something Tevinter or anywhere in Thedas fully stood by, so it was always a rather under the covers thing. It’s a hard thing to explain to a child, to only call one of her parents a father and to not talk about both having two parents, but since people who wished to be blind to the truth simply assumed Valentin is simply being a really good friend, helping Charon raise his daughter, they played it off as a child that is confused. Those who knew, didn’t really speak of it. She was very loved and when it was just the three of them together, it was a happy little family, despite the oddities. Rook adored both her father as well, while they were both different she looked up to them both, even if they both seem to believe she picks up their own worst traits.

Charon, strict, stoic, always in control of himself and rarely showing emotion, never sugar coating anything even for an innocent child, he addresses Rook as a soldier since young age and even if Rook wished to play with stuffed animals he’d make her command them in war or ruling their fairytale kingdom. He is not the most warm of fathers, and there is a point where little Mila struggles to understand the love he offers, but thanks to Valentin she learns to see it in the gestures and the protection. He showed softness sometimes and learnt that especially with a child he needs to do it more, but his walls were built sturdy by years of service and strategic leadership and did not come down easily, not even for those he loved most.

Rook always looked up to him as a hero, a role model, the one person that always knows the right answers and does the right thing, one that could always protect her and eveyone else. It’s not until her own mind starts to see things differently their shared stubbornness and directness starts to clash. Never in a way that would create a rift but mostly in disagreements on what is the right way to reach a goal.

Valentin on the other hand was a warm man. The kind of man to make friends no matter where he goes and knows someone for anything. He understood people, he felt for people, but in his emotion he could be judgemental and quick to jump into conclusion, he always appreciated Charon’s more distances, more logical empathy. He wears his heart on his sleeve. He sheds a tear at every single achievement Mila has, he teaches her to play a lute and find love for singing and music, he helps her learn how to be good with people. He is funny and joyful, a lot more reckless and spontaneous than Charon.

Mila was an odd child - no siblings, not that many kids to play with, not regularly at least, growing up in such a rare family dynamic and mostly being brought up among soldiers, little Mila is a reflection of her environment. She didn’t really know how to be with other kids on the occasion she is around any, taking playing pretend too seriously, commanding them around, fighting just a bit too harsh and with more skill than the other kids, cussing like a sailor, it resulted in a rather lonely early childhood.

Once, some kids tried to pick on her, see how far can they push her especially if they offer friendship back which ended up with her falling into a well. Luckily one of the kids ran to fetch an adult and they managed to get her out before she drowned. Valentin who was playing music in the nearby tavern to pass time while he was supposed to look after her was horrified. He let her roam, because he believed it would do her right, but it was then he realised they did not so a great job socialising her very well, and took it upon himself to try and make Rook understand people as well as she possibly could so she wouldn’t never do silly things to make friends and understand when things are off.

After getting seriously ill with the Withering, Charon and Mila try everything to cure him but they learn that not everything can be helped, even with best mages and healers at their disposal. once the withering starts to degrade Valentin’ mind, he asks his daughter the ultimate favour, to end his life gently, with dignity. The smell of the tea that put him to sleep forever becoming a smell that forever haunts her in sleepless nights.

The Mercars are a well respected family, with generations of tradition of serving the imperial chantry. Many members of the family end up in decent ranks. The family always favoured men, strong soldiers to send to military, despite having a fair share of female warriors among them.

So, always encouraged to settle down and find a wife to continue the bloodline, a found baby, especially a girl, with no follow up children in sight, was not the most desired course of events, especially since Charon was believed to climb the career ladder significantly. However, as he chose to let Mila carry his name, most were just happy the name shall carry on and if she proves to be a decent soldier, only helps with reputation.

See, the disadvantage of being a respected military family is that you send your family members to military - it doesn’t help to keep the bloodline running. Death is common among the Mercars.

While a soporati class, due to their loyalty and service they are mostly not so bad off, especially once in a better rank. The class system however, commonly makes many strive for more, family members latching onto any hope to elevate the family name.

So once Mila’s magic manifested, it became a burden more than a blessing it is so often viewed as. Rook’s aunt who was strictly against the idea of her adoption was suddenly taking an interest, believing that Mila is now the sole person to elevate the house name to new heights. Mila suddenly became the centre of all efforts to raise the perfect image of a Tevinter soldier, an untapped potential. A mage as an active member of military was uncommon as is, a woman in higher ranks unheard of, but it was exactly what was now written into Rook’s fate, hoping to use her as a stepping stool to higher society, and allowing her own children a better future.

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You just keep finding little gems like this one.

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Not to focus overly on my Rookanis feels, but I love the dialogue cutscene where Lucanis and Davrin are drinking together, sharing stories, and invite Rook to sit with them, for so many reasons.

I mean, I love the dialogue cutscene in general and both the guys in it. The mood is great. The dialogue is just so damn funny. It's a friendly dick measuring contest between our favourite boys. After the initial antagonism and tension, they've become friends. There are bizarre lore drops. The stories are entertaining and frankly wtf? A big writhing ball of angry nugs? Created through blood magic? The stuff of nightmares! I wish I could see Lucanis deal with that. I wish I could see Davrin figure out the big heap of tentacles. I love the way the guys are just a little tipsy in a cute way. Lucanis talks a little too loud in comparison with what we're used to. Davrin is starting to have trouble articulating. The "Of course we're getting along. We're PROFESSIONALS," as Lucanis raises his cup a little towards Davrin always cracks me up. Also, Lucanis, are you drinking wine from a coffee cup? The way they both invite Rook to stay and participate. The prospect of slightly drunk cooking and snacking and sharing stories. All in all, it's a beautiful scene that makes me smile every time.

But let me also yap about Lucanis for a moment. (Of course you will let me. It's not like you can stop me. No one can stop me. Not even me.) I want to focus on how Lucanis interacts with Rook in this scene.

It's obvious he's let himself relax a little. He's a bit intoxicated. Clearly he's having fun. He smiles easily and flutters his eyelashes at Rook. When you choose the dialogue option that mentions ruining Solas' ritual, Lucanis insists that Rook tells the story. "[Neve and Harding] don't tell it the way you would," he says, encouraging Rook to talk about something, from what he says, he seems to have already heard, because he wants to hear them tell it.

Then he decides he'll cook something while they chat, but he emphasizes that he will only do so "if Rook's staying," nudging them further. It couldn't be more clear that he wants them there and that he enjoys their company.

I feel like I don't see enough people feral about it, because come on, he's so sweet in this scene. He obviously wants Rook around and their presence makes him happy.

And, yeah, I know this scene also happens with "just" friendly Rook. The thing is, I don't give a fuck. I don't think it diminishes the interaction in any way. The context matters. It's sweet with friendly Rook and even sweeter when they're more. Also, I played Lucanis' romance first, and I did not know that. What I saw in this scene during that first playthrough was the man absolutely delighted by Rook's company, repeatedly and enthusiastically asking them to stay and spend time with him, and it made my day. Still does.

When I keep babbling about how much I love Lucanis' romance, it's not just about all the hearts I get to click to see where they lead or the beautiful post-Tearstone love scene, it's also interactions like this where you see how much he wants Rook to be there, all the more or less subtle signs of affection (and yes, also friendship, because that goes hand in hand) that happen throughout the whole game.

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A Slow Poison

When Teia sends word, Rook and Lucanis are tasked with aiding Crow Dareth and his cousin Jacobus in uncovering how the infamous Butcher managed to seize Treviso with such alarming speed. But what begins with a covert investigation quickly unravels and a member of the Veilguard is injured.

The Crows rule Antiva and Treviso will be free.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/66342469/chapters/171060214

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So Viago strongly suggests that Caterina is going to completely obliterate every last vestige of House Kortez after Emil Kortez betrays the Crows. Teia doesnt want to believe it, but Viago is adamant she will have Lucanis kill the entire House.

(He also mentions that she has utterly destroyed a House in the past in this manner, and she was apparently thorough enough that Teia has never even heard of the House he says was destroyed. This is separate from whatever she might have done to House Velardo for killing her children and grandchildren. Lucanis was not stated to be involved in either of these incidents, at least the reprisals part, but if you need evidence of her possible intent...)

It's possible that Viago's prediction was wrong, as there are still Eight Talons but Teia and Viago don't seem to have increased in rank. (Which I do think matters; I understand the logic behind the counterargument to that, but by my way of thinking, World of Thedas wouldn't spend so much time describing the falling and rising ranks of Houses Arainai and Valisti within the Talon Houses if it didn't matter at all ). There's also mention before of sending letters of Teia, Viago, and Caterina's decisions to the heirs of the Talons who were murdered, with Teia not noticing anything out of the norm and Viago not voicing his theory until after. It's possible Caterina stayed her hand rather than risk more upheaval with an impending invasion on her hands.

But I lean towards Viago likely being right about Caterina's reaction; it fits the Crows and the established pattern. And he really does seem convinced Lucanis will be her weapon to do this.

“Exactly.” Viago smirked. “Mark my words—she’ll bring her demon of a grandson back from Tevinter to do the job personally.”

A shiver passed through them both.

“What did you call my grandson?” a voice behind them asked. Viago let out a nervous laugh. Caterina pushed past them to stare out over the water. Despite what had happened, she still stood with her back straight and her expression fierce.

So if you think Caterina did follow through...

It would be a very interesting conversation if Rook de Riva knew of Viago's theory, and a potentially disastrous one (in a way that would be very fun to read) if it came up with a different Rook or the rest of the Veilguard somehow.

[loopyloo1213]

Where Childhood Dreams Lead

Several months after the events of the game, Rook has planned a heartfelt surprise for the one she loves—an act that sparks long-overdue, meaningful conversations. After everything they’ve been through, they finally have a chance to build something real—together.

Chapters 1 & 2

https://archiveofourown.org/works/65909944/chapters/169792018

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Emmrich sweetie the blight

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Rook was halfway through her second cup of wine when Lucanis slumped face-first into the casserole.

For a moment, no one moved.

Then Harding dropped her fork. "Oh, shit. Did he die?"

Davrin leaned over the table to get a better look. "That was a strong pour, but I didn't think it was that strong."

"Dead," Emmrich said dryly, not looking up from his own glass. "Or very committed to the bit."

"Ooh! Are we doing dinner theater now?" Bellara asked brightly. "I love improv!"

Lucanis did not move.

Rook set her cup down with a quiet clink and muttered, "Please don’t be dead. I am not emotionally prepared to give a speech about your contributions to the team."

Neve, who hadn't touched the casserole at all, crossed her arms. "He’s breathing. His shoulder moved."

Harding crouched next to the body, cautiously poking Lucanis in the ribs. "Buddy? You okay? Did you choke on the mushrooms or just…decide to nap in your food?"

Lucanis peeled himself off the table like a man resurrected. Casserole clung to his cheek.

"It was a test," he grumbled. "To see how long it would take you to notice I was dead."

A long pause.

"And?" Taash asked.

"You failed."

Davrin snorted. "I dunno, I think Emmrich called it pretty fast."

"He always calls it," Harding said. "Last week he said my soup was 'one step removed from a death curse.'"

"It was," Emmrich replied. "You put pears in it."

"I wanted to try something new!"

Rook raised her hands before the soup argument could escalate again. "Okay, can we just—focus? This dinner was supposed to be relaxing. A team-building exercise. No magic, no weapons, no murder."

"In my defense," Lucanis said, wiping casserole off his face with a napkin that definitely wasn’t his, "no one actually died."

At that exact moment, a distant crash echoed from the pantry.

Everyone froze.

Bellara perked up. "Did anyone else hear that?"

"Probably just something falling over," Davrin said. "The pantry's packed so tight, you sneeze near a sack of potatoes and the whole shelf topples."

"Good thing we stocked up when we did," Harding added. "No one was expecting the Eluvian to break, and now we’re stuck until Bellara can fix it."

Neve stood. "So we’re trapped in a magical house inside the Fade with no exit and a fake death during dinner. Great. Nothing bad could possibly happen next."

Taash looked around. "Wait. Is anyone missing?"

Everyone instinctively turned toward Emmrich, who glanced up with a faint frown. "Why are you looking at me? I’ve been here the entire time."

"Manfred’s here too," Bellara said, pointing at the skeleton, who was wearing a very small chef’s hat. No one asked why.

Rook stood up slowly. "I’ll check the pantry."

Harding grabbed a fork like a weapon. "I’ll go with you."

Davrin followed. "I’m just coming to watch."

The pantry door creaked open.

Inside, lying awkwardly between the sacks of flour and a crate of questionable root vegetables, was a man. A dead man. Dressed in a butler’s uniform. With a note pinned to his chest.

Harding blinked. "We don’t have a butler, right?"

Rook stared. "No."

Bellara ducked in behind her. “Ooh, that stitching looks Tevinter. Probably ceremonial. Or cult-related. Or maybe one of those banquets where they chant between courses.”

Neve plucked the note from the corpse’s chest and read aloud, “‘I know what you did.’”

The silence that followed was long. Unearned. And deeply foreboding.

Davrin snorted. "Well. That’s ominous."

Emmrich finally stepped into the doorway, took one look at the body, and sighed. "This seems excessive, even for a dinner party."

Rook looked from the body to the rest of them, then wordlessly returned to her seat and topped off her drink. “New rule. No more fake deaths unless we agree on them ahead of time. And absolutely no more cursed casseroles.”

Davrin shrugged. “Bit late. I already had seconds.”

The entire group migrated into the pantry a few moments later with all the solemnity of tourists gawking at a crime scene.

Neve had already pulled out a notebook from somewhere. Rook didn’t ask.

“Let’s start with the obvious,” Neve said, flipping to a blank page. “Who the fuck is this guy, why is he dead, and which one of you thought this was the best time for a murder?”

Taash crossed their arms. “Not mine. If I kill someone, I don’t dress them like a bottle of discount wine.”

“Helpful,” Neve muttered.

Emmrich adjusted his glove and crouched beside the body. “No visible trauma. Still warm. Likely recent.”

Harding frowned. “Warm? In here? Lucanis keeps this place freezing.”

“He likes the air actively depressing,” Davrin added.

Lucanis didn’t move. “I’m going to kill one of you for real. And it won’t be theatrical.”

“I’d like to note that as a threat,” Neve said, scribbling something down.

Rook rubbed her forehead. “Bellara, is there any chance he came through the Eluvian before it shattered?”

“Not unless he burst through half a glyph in secret,” Bellara said. “Which—okay, would be impressive.”

Harding held up something triumphantly. “I found a clue!”

Everyone turned. She was holding a potato. A lumpy one.

“It looks like a face.”

Rook gave her a long look. “Put it down.”

“I’m keeping it.”

Emmrich brushed flour off his knees and leaned in. “There is something in his mouth.”

Bellara lit up. “A message? A cursed talisman? A trigger glyph with a death—”

“It’s a button,” Emmrich said, pinching it free with visible disdain.

Rook blinked. “Wait… that looks like the ones from my coat.”

Everyone turned toward her at once.

She instinctively glanced down.

All her buttons were intact.

“Oh,” she said. “Okay, no, false alarm.”

“But it looks like yours,” Neve pointed out.

“Yes, because apparently I wear extremely murderable fashion,” Rook snapped. “Can we move on?”

Neve flipped a page. “Documented aesthetic hazard. Got it.”

Davrin held up a handful of breadcrumbs. “I also found these. Possibly suspicious. Possibly from the snack I ate in here last week.”

“Possibly not helpful,” Neve muttered.

“I am helping,” Davrin said, indignant.

“You’re not,” Lucanis said.

Bellara crouched beside Emmrich. “If I take a sample of the fabric, I can trace the magical decay timeline! We might even get a psychic echo—”

“No experiments in the pantry,” Rook said automatically.

Emmrich straightened, brushing his pants off with a huff. “He’s not a spirit. That’s what disturbs me. The Fade should’ve intervened.”

Bellara squinted at him. “Are you saying the Fade is ghosting us?”

“The Fade doesn’t ghost,” Emmrich snapped. “It manifests.”

Harding, now rifling through a nearby crate, pointed at what looked like a bootprint smudged in the flour-covered floor. “Does this count as a clue?”

“Possibly,” Neve said. “Is it yours?”

Harding looked at her own boots. “...Yes.”

Rook sat down on a sack of grain and rubbed her temples. “This is my nightmare.”

Neve was already pacing with her notebook. “Alright. We need a suspect list, a motive list, and someone to keep Davrin from contaminating the pantry.”

“I’ll interrogate…Manfred!” Davrin exclaimed, pointing dramatically at the skeleton, who waved back.

“I just wanted one normal dinner,” Rook muttered, as Bellara sprinkled glowing powder on the corpse’s coat with the casual glee of someone baking a cake.

Rook had seen things—haunted bodies, Fade-warped beasts, a very upsetting mirror incident—but this might be the one that finally broke her: Neve pinning a parchment labeled Suspicion Index to the library bookshelf with a dagger while the butler’s body remained very much dead in the pantry.

"We’ll be proceeding in order of likelihood," Neve said. "I’ll be assigning points based on motive, opportunity, and overall vibe."

"Is that a feelings chart?" Davrin asked, leaning over to get a better look.

"It’s a legally-adjacent analysis matrix," Neve said. "Harding, you’re up first."

"Why me?"

"Because you found the potato."

Harding sat across from her like a war criminal. “For the record,” she said, holding it up again, “it still looks like a face.”

She held up the shriveled lump. Rook didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

Harding reached into her pocket. “Also found this rutabaga. Suspiciously spherical. And this lint smells like cinnamon.”

Bellara gasped. “We don’t use cinnamon in the laundry!”

“You are wasting ink,” Emmrich said. “You’ve drawn a triangle around Davrin’s name and labeled it ‘bad vibes.’”

“Triangulation is a legitimate method,” Neve replied.

Emmrich turned to Rook. “Do you want me to perform an actual autopsy or let them keep building this root vegetable tribunal?”

"That’s exactly what someone with something to hide would say," Neve muttered, adding a tally mark next to his name.

"You’re not even using consistent criteria," Emmrich snapped. "Harding has five tally marks and three stars."

"The stars are for enthusiasm," Neve said.

Bellara bounced on her heels. "Can I go next? I ran a magical aura sweep. The corpse is faintly guilty."

Neve looked up. "What does that mean."

“Residual emotion. Posthumous regret. Possibly moral confusion.”

“That’s not—”

“Also,” Bellara continued, “I think we should all touch this cursed rock and see whose fingers fall off. Then we’ll know who’s guily.”

She held it up. It pulsed faintly. Everyone took a step back except Taash, who poked it.

“Feels like indigestion,” they said. “But my fingers didn’t fall off.”

"Not admissible," Emmrich said, folding his arms. "And cursed rocks do not qualify as forensic tools."

"You’re not in charge of this investigation," Neve said.

“No,” he gritted out. “But I’m still right.”

Neve tapped her pen against her lip, eyes sweeping the room as she considered her next target. Lucanis hadn’t moved. He was still leaning against the chair, coffee in hand, looking entirely unbothered.

“Lucanis, do you have something you’d like to share with the class?”

Lucanis lifted his head, expression unreadable. “No, I—”

Suddenly, his eyes flickered purple. A faint, eerie whisper curled around him like smoke.

“MURDER,” Spite intoned. “DECEIT. NIBBLING.”

The room fell silent.

Davrin blinked. “Okay, I have no idea what that means.”

Lucanis blinked, and the glow faded. He took another sip of coffee like nothing had happened.

Neve gave him three tally marks.

“This is farce,” Emmrich sighed.

“I have a theory,” Taash offered. “Slipped. Cracked his head. Note’s unrelated. Maybe a grocery list.”

“Oh,” Bellara whispered. ”That’s beautiful.”

Neve snapped her notebook closed. “Only one suspect left.”

They all turned to Rook.

She stared back. “You cannot be serious.”

Neve held up the button.

“All my buttons are still on.”

“Which means you replaced it. Classic misdirection.”

Rook’s jaw dropped. “That’s not even—”

“Proximity to the corpse: extremely high,” Neve went on, undeterred. “Motive: unknown, but probably food-related. Means: documented history of punching.”

Bellara gasped. “She does punch things.”

“And she does get hangry,” Harding added.

“Thank you,” Neve said, flipping a page.

“Do you think she did it?” Davrin asked.

Emmrich scoffed. “She hasn’t left my side.”

“And if she had?”

“I’d help her hide the body.”

Rook buried her face in her hands. “I just wanted one nice dinner.”

The library door creaked open.

Assan padded in, claws clicking against the stone. In his beak: a torn piece of the butler’s sleeve. He dropped it at Rook’s feet and sat down proudly.

Manfred skittered in behind him, holding a second piece and hissing joyfully. His chef hat was askew but still upright.

No one spoke.

Rook didn’t lift her head. “Why,” she asked the floor, “do we live like this.”

“Technically,” Bellara offered, “we’re trapped by magical catastrophe. It’s different.”

Rook sighed into her hands. “Wonderful.”

[loopyloo1213]

Tenebrium

Fledgling Calliope De Riva finds herself invited by the First Talon to her first Crow Satinalia masquerade party. Knowing no one except her escort, Viago De Riva, and crow Teia Cantori, can she navigate the pitfalls of an anonymous Crow gathering?

https://archiveofourown.org/works/65801746/chapters/169478389

[loopyloo1213]

Shout-out to DA:V fanfics & fanart of companions crashing out and falling apart while Rook is trapped in the fade; Gotta be one of my favorite genders.

(If anyone has recommendations for fics or pieces plz lemme know, I cannot get enough of this.)

[loopyloo1213]

Just thinking about how Lucanis oncr tried to woo Viago, the punniest crow we know, but turned around and threatened Rook with murder for their hand jokes in Arlathan.

So is it just a case of he thinks Viago's jokes are better, or did he not know Viago well enough when he tried to court him to know he's just as bad?

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That one idle convo about knives, basically.

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Dorian: Silk-lined gloves, polished boots, an alarming fondness for daggers. You’re either a Crow, or someone's compensating.

Lucanis: Excuse me?

Dorian: It’s a compliment! Dangerous and fashionable. I see the Antivan curriculum is still rigorous.

Lucanis: We graduate with honours in elegance and murder.

Dorian: And here I thought Tevinter was dramatic.

Lucanis: It is. You just do it louder.

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Do I think Illario is in any way attracted to a Rook that is romancing his cousin or has any desire to 'win them over' or steal them from Lucanis or whatever the fuck? No. Not even a little bit. Do I think he spends an ungodly amount of time post-game trying to get Rook to admit that they're attracted to him? Yes.

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"I regret the pain that i have caused you..."

When rook in the regret prison, there are statues of the companion who had been sacrificed like neve/bellara and harding/davrin. What if, solas experienced the same when he's in the prison, but it's the statue of his vhenan.

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BELLARA! 😂😂