Taash Week 2026

Riven Mercar had said it was taamlok. They were serious. And so was Taash. Dead serious. So invariably serious in fact that the two had remained together after Solas committed himself to sustaining the Veil. They moved to Rivain together, they built a house on a plot of arable land overlooking the crags and beaches of the Rivaini coast.

Riven supported Taash in their endeavor to reform the Qun into something more closely resembling what Shathann had taught them; all while maintaining a working relationship with Isabela and the Lords of Fortune.

It was a simple life.

A busy life.

It sustained them well, until it didn't. Until taamlok wasn't quite enough.

Their daughter.

Their baby girl; Ashia.

She was conceived via the same sort of blood magic Riven had once succumbed to in the removal of their breast tissue. It was a commingling of their parents blood, a hedonistic ritual, and four painful tries and losses before little Ash was brought shrieking into the world after nine months of painful pregnancy.

Riven had carried.

Taash nursed her at their own breast.

And it was perfect. This life beyond taamlok.

So why was Taash so damn anxious?

There was no ring. They didn't do that in Tevinter where Riven was from. But Taash did carve a dragon's tooth in half to be worn about the neck. An adornment that signified their partnership, their togetherness even when they were apart.

Taash played with the thinner half of the tooth pendant in their pocket. Watching their lover and daughter play in the surf on the beach that their little cottage overlooked. Ash began to forage along the lapping shore for shells and sea glass. Riven, wearing a pair of short swim trucks, loped back up the beach to where Taash was sitting in the sand.

The elf plopped down next to them, burrowing their toes in the grit.

"Gods above look at her," Riven laughed, watching the six year old hoist up a conch shell dripping with slat water, high above her baby horns, green eyes gleaming with pride. The noontime Rivaini sun beat down on their shoulders.

Taash puffed a nervous laugh, heart swelling with affection to behold the precious child they had made together. She was already so fierce, so independent and clever.

Riven, keen on Taash's emotions as ever, cocked their blonde head, loose hair falling over one shoulder.

"You alright, Taarala?"

Taash looked at them. Their eyes, silver on black. Their tattooed cheeks. Arms. Torso. Legs. All a mess of serpentine ink. Every precious inch of them; freckled from the sun. Skin beaded with water and sweat. The silver-pink lines of their top scars. They were so perfect. So achingly stunning in this casual, ordinary setting.

"…Taash?"

Taash swallowed back the anxiety. The tense fear of rejection.

The produced the smaller half of the dragon's tooth from their back pocket. It glinted in the sunlight.

"What's-

"Marry me, Riv."

Riven blinked.

"Tama, Papae!" Ash shrieked with delight, having wandered into the surf up to her knees. She hefted a massive, sliver scaled fish over her horns. It wriggled and writhed and gaped its wide mouth, gills flexing on dry air. "Look what I caught!"

Taash gritted their teeth as Riven's attention was drawn promptly to their baby, "Put that down!"

"No!"

Riven groaned, scrambling in the sand. torn between their love and their child.

Taash sighed, cupping the tooth back into their hand, "Go get her."

Riven bit their lower lip, casting an apologetic glance at Taash before they turned on heel and sprinted across the sand towards where Ashia was already peeling away, wailing with laughter, flinging the poor fish around by its tail.

"Get back here!"

"Nuh-uh!"

Taash couldn't help but laugh. Pressing the tooth back into their pocket. It could wait until they got home, they decided.

They grappled to their feet, and tore out after their family.

Riven's shadow graced their doorway well past midnight the morning after Shathann's violent murder. The elf, dressed down to their quickstart leathers, tiptoed around debris; a broken chair, scattered ingots of precious metals hurled to dent ancient walls. The innards of a pillow Taash had torn asunder. The person in question was laying on their back, glassy green eyes beholding nothing as they wallowed in their grief. The blood that oozed from their knuckles dripped onto the floor, pooling between their fingers. The brazier that ordinarily lit the room was cold and dark. Only a few guttering candles lent their light to the darkness that swallowed up the space.

"You're bleeding," Riven observed softly, coming to kneel at Taash's left side. They gingerly lifted the qunari's palm, observing the hairline breaks in their ashen skin. They produced a handkerchief from a pocket, and tore it down the center. They wrapped the Adaari's left hand first. Securing the fabric tightly to staunch the mild bleeding. Then they circled around to Taash's other side. And they wound the makeshift bandage around that hand, too.

The gentleness with which Riven handled them… it reminded Taash painfully of Shathann. Who had often been hasty, blunt, harsh in her mannerisms. But when Taash was injured. When Shathann's child was wounded or in peril… she acted. Her actions were always genuine. She had always sought understanding, even though the narrow scope of the Qun did not always allow for it.

Taash winced at the memory of their last real conversation over dinner. They had shouted because it was painful, because for once they hadn't wanted to explain. They had just wanted to be seen. And Shathann had tried as best she knew how to comprehend a complexity that the Qun simply could not accommodate. At least not within the scope of an ashkaari's understanding.

Aqun Athlok, she had offered something. But in the heat of the moment. Fearing her reprimand and misunderstanding her words, Taash had rejected her frail attempt at relating. It had been too little too late. Shokra toh ebra.

But they had misunderstood that as well, hadn't they?

It hurt.

Riven brushed a delicate finger over their cheekbone. Taash realized they were crying.

"Taash-

Taash shook their horned head and sat up, wincing slightly as they pressed their wounded hands to the floor, "Don't. Please. I don't want pity. Not from you."

They clambered to their feet, and Rook followed behind them. They sat side by side on the edge of the bed. Riven peered at Taash with wet, sad eyes. Taash stared at the far wall.

Riven said nothing, appreciating the simple act of keeping the mourning qunari company. They did lace their finger's through Taash's, giving their wrapped hand a gentle squeeze. I'm right here. They communicated through touch. I'm not going anywhere.

"…I didn't get it." Taash said, finally. Unable to meet Riven's gaze, but they could feel the elf's eyes set intently upon them. "I got it wrong. Shokra toh ebra. She did see it. I think. I think she saw how hard I fought to be who I am. It wasn't about the struggling. It was about the finding. And fuck. I didn't see that until she- she-

They broke off in a pained sob, and Riven shifted, pressing their small body hard into Taash's side. They embraced them fully. And when Taash collapsed sideways into their hold, the little elf held firm and passionate beneath their weight.

Taash pressed their face into the crook of Riven's tattooed shoulder, biting back the painful waves of grief that wracked their form.

Riven gingerly carded soothing fingers through their silver hair. Carefully undoing their plait, which had frayed into a mess of fly aways and tangles in the fight with the Kaltenzahn.

"It hurts," Taash whimpered.

Riven hummed soft and soothing, "I know."

"Does it ever go away?"

"No. But your heart grows around it. Like a scar over a wound. And it hurts less comparatively. With time, I mean." The elf kissed the qunari's temple. "If I could take it away and feel it for you I would, Taash."

Taash nuzzled closer, pulling their bodies down into the sheets. They kept their tear streaked face hidden against the curve of Riven's soft throat, arms wound desperately around the slight elf's wiry frame.

"It's okay." They murmured. "I need to feel it. If I didn't feel it it would be like she was never here at all."

Riven kissed their crown, fingers carding through their silken hair.

"…just stay with me." Taash pleaded softly into their skin.

They set up in the bathroom, in front of the mirror, after wiping the counter down and laying out their supplies on clean paper towels. Riven crowded into the bathroom with them. Perching on their toes behind the qunari, lithe arms winding around Taash's strong waist. Their silver-black eyes peeked over their partners wide, bulky shoulders.

Two vials. Each containing 200 milligrams of testosterone cypionate. It might as well have been liquid gold, it was so precious to the two individuals who loomed over it now. Taash smirked at the sight of the short elf's wide eyes peering eagerly over their shoulder in the mirror.

"You wanna go first?" Taash posed, turning their body halfway, pinching Riven on their hip with playful affection.

"I'm feeling kinda on edge," The elf admitted. Smaller body. Lower dose. They felt its absence in the blood on the last day more than Taash did.

"Sit," Taash motioned to the toilet, white lid down to serve as a seat.

They turned the 18 gauge needle into place in the syringe while Riven cleaned the side of their thigh with an alcohol swab. Taash drew back the plunger, filling it with air, then punctured the top of the vial, expelling the air and quickly replacing it with Riven's prescribed dose of hormones. .25 milliliters. Then, swooping the 18 gauge back into its cap, Taash untwisted it, and replaced it with the 25 gauge.

Kneeling in front of their partner, Taash raised a brow in question. Riven pointed with a tattooed finger to the spot they had cleaned on the side of their right thigh.

"Right side this week."

"Ya ready?" Taash asked, voice low and tender, eyes swimming in affection. This was the most intimate thing they did with one another. More intimate than sex. More intimate that showering in each others company. More intimate than tattooing and piercing one another's skin.

Riven nodded and glanced away. They were a tattoo artist, so Taash found their anxiety around medical needles to be exceptionally endearing.

Taash knew the exact spot by heart, just over the slitted eye of one of the many vipers inked into the elf's pale skin. Their boxer shorts were rolled up to their hip, exposing the full intricacy of their thigh piece.

They moved quickly but gently, inserting the needle perpendicular to the flesh, and injecting with their thumb. And it was over just as quickly as it had begun. Taash retracted their hand, deposited the used syringe immediately into their bright orange sharps bin, and returned to place a band aid gingerly over the prick in the elf's skin.

Riven cracked an eyelid, "Done?"

Taash, still kneeling between their legs, kissed them soundly on the lips. Murmuring a soft, "Done."

Riven smiled into the kiss, leaning into it, melting into the qunari's hold before slipping away.

"Your turn," They chirpped as Taash sat, crossing their arms over their bare chest. They followed the same routine as Taash, drawing up with the 18 gauge, then switching to the 25 for injection.

Taash had just finished cleaning their right thigh when Riven knelt on the floor in front of them.

The qunari wasn't so precious about needles, and watched as Riven inserted and injected the payload. The qunari sighed through their nose. When Riven was finished disposing of the needle, and placing a bandage over Taash's thigh, the larger person pulled the elf into their lap. They kissed Riven's neck, bare shoulder, jaw. The pair rocked slightly, back and forth as the post shot euphoria settled over them both.

"I love you," Riven purred, pressing their forehead to Taash's. Their eyes glimmered brightly.

Taash smirked, and they scooped the little elf into a bridal carry, parading them towards their bedroom.