#rookquin

Fandom: Dragon Age: The Veilguard Pairing: Rook Mercar/Tarquin Rating: Mature Summary: When the shadows try to prey on him, Tarquin can always find the light in Rook. Words: 851 Additional Tags: Shadow Dragon Week Day 1- Shadows/Light, Horror, Darkspawn, Nightmares, Post-Canon, Canon Trans Male Character, Short One Shot

Written for @shadow-dragon-week, some Ariadne/Tarquin fic. A little glimpse into how the past still troubles Tarquin even after winning. And how he can always find comfort in Rook.

Read on AO3

The night was unbearably warm.

Tarquin’s skin was damp, sticking to the blanket beneath him, and each time he shifted, it pulled uncomfortably. With a sigh, he stared at the ceiling above him, the patched roof of his apartment barely holding together beneath the torrential downpour outside. Somewhere in the next room, water slithered in between one particular crack in the plaster, the familiar drip drip like a song he knew every beat to.

Images danced in the shadowy corners of his room, dragons and darkspawn… blighted creatures with red eyes, waiting for him to turn his back, claws sharp enough to rip a man’s spine from his body. Tarquin shivered, facing the window, forcing himself to think of something else. Anything else. 

But nothing could keep the memories from his mind: the blighted dragon as it tore through the city, the Venatori laying siege to the Archon’s palace, the sight of Ariadne fighting for their city as she always had, with a tenacity that left him breathless and terrified in equal measure.

Because it wasn’t Ariadne Mercar if she wasn’t purposely giving him a damned heart attack whenever she threw herself into a fight.

Rain streamed down the glass in rivulets, each drop becoming a shapeless trail of water, disappearing below the windowsill where it’d eventually find the ground, a puddle forming in the street he’d most likely walk in come morning. The steady thrum of the storm was comforting despite his nightmares. It was something real, something to hold on to when the evil tried to creep in, tried to snare him in a waking terror. 

Tarquin stilled at slight movement in the bed, holding his breath so as to not to wake its other occupant. He listened for a sound, any sign that the woman beside him had awakened, but the only thing he heard was the pounding of blood in his ears and the violence of the rain outside. With a stuttered sigh, he tried to relax against the thin blankets, hoping the remnants of nightmares would fade as the shadows did, but it was a pointless wish.

They never left, the dark things always haunting him, even into the waking hours.

His mind spun with images of salivating monsters, of the echoing scream of a blighted dragon with too sharp claws, when gentle fingers brushed through his hair, freeing the strands from the sweat that stuck them to his head. At first, he froze, brain conjuring demons that weren’t there. Then puffs of warm breath caressed the back of his neck, a soft body pressing against his beneath the blankets.

A heartbeat passed before he found his voice, uncertain if he was dreaming her presence. “Ari?”

“I’m here, Quin.” 

A whispered promise, one she’d made many times before, most recently when a dragon had ravaged their city and she’d put herself into harm’s way to protect their city.

Ariadne shifted closer, her free arm wrapping around him, her hand resting on the spot where his heart hammered against his ribs. With lips brushing softly against the nape of his neck, she repeated the words again, and he grabbed onto them like a lifeline, any shame he might have felt over these irrational fears dissipating in the safety of her embrace.

With a stuttering inhale, Tarquin turned to face her, only to find familiar amber eyes watching him through the dark. His fingers brushed against her soft brow before running along the bridge of her nose,  and then finally mapping the scars that broke up the tattoos on her face, and in that moment, he knew he was safe here, in that room, in that bed. Here, the shadows couldn’t get him.

Emotion overwhelmed him, and he dropped his gaze to the scar just below her collarbone, the skin puckered and dark against her bronzed skin. During the final battle in the heart of Minrathous, she’d put herself between him and a Venatori, as he’d once done for her a long time ago. And she’d gotten gravely injured. The cut had been deep, created by a dagger with a cruel blade, and for a brief and terrifying moment, there’d been the devastating thought that he’d lose her. But she always danced around death, encompassing it in her magic and using it to her advantage. 

Of course, she’d survive. She somehow always managed to.

Months later, Tarquin’s mind still plagued him with images of death: blight and blood and Gods, but his heart… his heart knew he had his own avatar of death in his grip. And somehow, it was a comfort.

Ducking his head, he pressed a soft kiss against her collarbone, the scar tissue there rough against his lips. Ariadne shifted closer, her hands gripping the thin fabric of his tunic between her fingers, her own lips finding her favorite spot: the center of his forehead, just above where the curve of his eyebrows nearly met. 

Too many times had circumstances threatened to take Ariadne from him. But they were here. They were alive.

And eventually, the shadows would part to let the light back in.

Thanks for the tag @fiberpunk027

I should catch up on tags this evening. Sorry been editing dabb and getting art ready and stuff. But also lowkey working on stuff for @shadow-dragon-week. Maybe not get to everything I want to do but here's a snippet I been toying with.

In which Riley Mercar should learn to mind his own business. And stay out of Lena, Ashur, and Tarquin's business. I'm sure Gladius is laughing his ass off.

"You don't understand-"

But before Riley could continue, he felt a cold presence behind him. Like a shadow the woman in question appeared, all pointed smiles and deadly grace as her pale blue eyes caught his and held him enthralled. A viper in her own right, fingers playing along the daggers on her hip as if she would strike him with her fangs.

"And what don't we understand, Riley Mercar?" Lena asked as she approached him with measured steps. "If you would be so kind as to enlighten us all…"

I made a mod, my very first (published), because I needed to get that cloak off of Tarquin and onto my Rook, and now you can too!

Introducing the Steal Tarquin's Cloak mod, for Tarquin romancers and mischievous Shadow Dragons. Replaces the Raiding Mask (Iron)

Dragon Age Kiss Week

Day 2 – Tavern

‘Have you ever been told that you have pretty eyes?’ She giggled before taking one more sip from her wine cup, her cheeks now as red as the vintage they have poured the entire evening. Tarquin sighed. He still found her infuriating, but his annoyance with her has been mixed with something else entirely. ‘Fuck it, then,’ he mumbled under his breath while grabbing her hot and reddened cheek, turning her face closer to his and crashing their lips against each other. He expected an immediate slap for this insolence, but to his surprise, he was met with eager reciprocation.

I almost forgot!!! I was tagged last week by @flo59-art and I actually have something to share now.

This is from the rookquin fic I'm slowly putting together. It's very rough!

Shoving it below the fold because it errs on the side of spicy and I don't want ANY OF YOU to look me directly in the eyes

Tagging in @epiphany-jones @himluv if you are so inclined and also since it's a new week I'm tagging back in @flo59-art