#datv ashur

Fandom: Dragon Age: The Veilguard Pairing: The Viper/Tarquin Rating: Mature Summary: The Venatori may have Minrathous, but Tarquin won’t let them have Ashur. Words: 3611 Additional Tags: Shadow Dragons, Minrathous, Venatori, Blighted Viper, Established Relationship, Minor Character Death Mention, Canon Typical Violence, Blood Magic, Blood, Treviso Saved, This might be considered Canon Divergence so I’ll tag just in case, Canon Trans Male Character, Hurt/Comfort

This fic was written for the @vipertarquinexchange, for my giftee @surnumanaja, hope you like it!

The Shadow Dragon hideout was quiet, eerily so, and Tarquin stared at the destruction caused by the dragon. By the Venatori. Everything he’d worked for, that the Viper had worked for, destroyed in the matter of hours, left as nothing but rubble and broken furniture, smashed plates and burned fabric, a ghost of what it’d once been.

Minrathous might not burn any longer, but the city still clung to desperation like a shroud, misery and death walking the docks hand in hand. Shadow Dragon blood spilled in the streets, the Venatori posing the dead like trophies on display. And Tarquin… well, there was little he could do but fight where he could, each battle proving more important, more treacherous than the last.

Then there was the issue of the Viper.

Ashur had taken a blighted dragon claw to the gut during the battle against the Evanuris. And even as the blight coursed through his veins, corrupting him to his very core, still the stubborn bastard fought the Venatori, fought the darkspawn.

And fought him.

Searching for Venatori commanders had become his new focus, a way to fight back even as he succumbed to the blight, because ‘if he was going to die, might as take some Venatori with him.’ And during the usual battles, Tarquin would’ve agreed with him, but there was too much at stake now. And that didn’t only include the future of the Shadow Dragons or the future of the Divine.

Minrathous might cease to exist if they lost.

Amatus,

Not sure if I deserve the right to call you this once more. Not sure how to even start this letter: should I cut right to the chase? Should I pour out my thoughts the way they jump through my mind’s eye? A kaleido. I wish the words came easier, to give meaning to them the way you would appreciate it, but…

We’re going to Tearstone Island. There’s no time.

Once I made a grave for you in the deepest part of my soul. Sometimes it feels like you are still lying there: maybe you are, since the blight in your veins has slowed but is not gone. You’d tell me it’s not my fault, but so many things are. Unhappy coincidences. Unspoken words. Unkept promises. They are mine to carry and see through. And one more on top, sworn on blood at the edge of your bed.

We always needled each other about who’d pass over to the Fade first out of recklessness, remember? We are moving out tomorrow and I am scribbling this abomination of both apology and declaration in haste.

I am sorry, if I fail my promise one last time by not coming back.

I love you. With all that is left light in me, which feels so sparse in times like these.

Now this sounds like I am writing a will.

Let me reclaim a bit of eloquence and dignity by repeating your words. Everything we are, what we did, what is before us still, once started with nothing but a dream. A dream of better Tevinter, better Minrathous, that spun like a thread into a tapestry. A dream of connection we shared and are still, of understanding. A dream of a future where our cause wins and we live long enough to see it. The one where we don’t, but it happens nonetheless. The dream of slow change, of calmer days, of sunsets over the Dock Town narrow roofs and Nessum spires.

In all these futures I am for once in my life truly praying for, you are not alone and alive.

Selfish, I know. Always have been.

- Lucius

Tagged by my darlings @redroomroaving @beesht and @nusaran

I'm dedicating this one to my lovely friend @weaveandwood for keeping me inspired, and here is the result of that. A little bit of Ashur/Rook:

She could smell rosemary suddenly, see his soft amber eyes and collapsed back to the floor in a flurry of breathless sobs. Neve wrapped an arm tentatively around her shoulder. "It's the easy route isn't it," she said softly. "We blame ourselves for the fate that befalls others, so we don't have to face the fact that we are ultimately powerless. We want it to be our fault, because then we can change something. Change ourselves. Be stronger or smarter or quicker." Hestia continued to sob, her tears soaking through the soft material of Neve's blouse. It felt soft beneath her cheek, and she began to calm as she was enveloped by the aroma of coffee and cardamom. "Did Ash ever tell you about what happened when he came to help me in Ventus?" "Not really. I know little bits here and there about the particulars of his slave liberating activities, but he usually keeps most details on a 'need to know' basis." With a sigh, Hestia lifted her head from Neve's shoulder and looked at her friend. "It was my partner, my best friend, who had reached out to 'The Viper' - although I didn't know it at the time. He was the only one who truly looked out for me. Our master purchased the most promising young slaves, always mages, for his training grounds," she felt herself shiver at the memory. "We would be pitted against the slaves of other Tevinter nobles, a fight to the death." She could feel Neve tense up as she took a sharp intake of breath. "All spoils would go to the owner of the winner," she continued. "Claudius valued Narion and I as his most skilled fighters; all the others had perished along the way. We were the strongest, the most cunning, the most beautiful. He knew he could always put on a show with us. Our reputations never seemed to deter the other nobles, it spurred them on if anything. How impressive it would be if they could have one of their own slaves beat The Southern Orion, or The Sacred Flame."

No pressure tags for @littleplasticrat @acreaturebythewater @pycnolite @redbatchedcumbermayned @fourraccoonsinacoat