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Finally....

Chapter 7: Happenings

(When Rivtaash discover Riven is pregnant) ((trans joy🏳️‍⚧️))

Rated: General

archiveofourown.org/works/637746...

They've worked hard for this. They've tried for this. They've cried over this in the wee hours of stormy mornings. They've wept for failed attempt after failed attempt. The imperfect ritual always stringing their hopes along, fine and thin. They have groveled for this. For this moment, precious, a standstill in time where every iota, every atom, every delicate shred of universe seems to narrow in on them.

Rook is knelt over the toilet, breakfast swirling down the bowl for the third day in a row. They won't know for sure until they see a healer, but, in their heart of hearts Riven is damn sure that this is it. It's like a light in their middle; a heat in their belly.

Taash lingers in the liminal space at the threshold, face lined with concern, eyes watery with something like tenuous hope.

Riven smiles, spits into the bowl one last time, then says, shakily, without meeting Taash's gaze, "I'm pregnant."

The qunari takes a hopeful step forward, then holds back, like they wouldn't dare to hope, "We can't know until-

"It's my body." Riven states, finally meeting Taash's verdant eyes. Riven's own are wet with unshed tears. "I know it. I feel it. Them."

Their hand drops to cup the flat of their abdomen. Under flesh, ink, sinew, muscle, bone, something precious, precarious, infinitesimally small has taken hold. A little half-elf half-qunari is taking shape, borne of magic, of determination, of love unending.

Taash makes a small sound, almost of pain, shock, uncertainty and budding joy. They scoop Riven into their arms, kiss their little Rook. Uncaring of the sour taste of their mouth.

Riven laughs into their lips, arms wound around the back of Taash's powerful neck. Fingers carding through their loose, silken hair.

"I hope they have your eyes," Rook whispers between heady kisses.

Taash lays them down across their mattress, holding the diminutive little tattooed elf in their arms. One big hand moving to cup the softness of their belly. They've been trying for over a year now. They'd completed the damned ritual over a dozen times, each time to be met with failure. But now, here, with spring rain beating softly against the roof of their home. With pale light bleeding through lacey curtains, filling up the room with the softness of clouds.

There is an exceptional joy in this; the joy of effort paid off. The joy of new life conceived. The joy of their shared queer experience being met with the ultimate, most exquisite sort of jubilation. It's almost painful, how beautiful it is. How wanted and loved their baby is even though they are only weeks old.

Taash imagines a little one; big green eyes, pale blonde hair, Rook's sharp nose and their own full mouth. They imagine the buds of little horns on each temple. They laugh breathlessly into Riven's mouth.

"Pregnant." Taash breathes.

Riven laughs, joyously, tears streaking their tattooed cheeks, begging to be kissed away.

"Pregnant," They repeat. Letting their hand drop to cup Taash's over their belly, pressing palms, warm on cool, soft tattooed skin.

They have suffered so much. Lost so much. They deserve this happiness.

They kiss with their growing baby between them.

"Little one," Riven coos down to their abdomen where their hands press softly, "You are already so loved."

Taash croaks a strangled laugh, fighting through tears of utter, pristine joy.

Riven snuggles under their chin, and they spend a lazy morning in bed. Expounding a million ideas, thoughts, theories of who this little one might be. Who they might become. Laughing and crying all the same.

Because they have worked hard for this. They deserve this happiness. And they have found joy.

December 6, 2025 at 10:40 PM

ani | antione 🐉🐍🏳️‍⚧️

@rayquazing.bsky.social

Chapter 6: Like a Dragon

Rated: EXPLICIT

archiveofourown.org/works/637746...

"You're turned on."

Riven blanched, then flushed in a matter of moments. They were sat on the edge of Taash's mattress with the qunari resting their head against the elf's left thigh. Rook was playing with Taash's hair; loose, silver grey, fine as spun silver.

Taash was shirtless, powerful shoulders on full display. Riven's fingers danced across the qunari's musculature as they denied, "...no."

Taash chortled, making to turn their head to give Riven a knowing, sidelong glance, but the elf held their head in place by their horns.

"Can you feel this?" Riven asked, avoiding Taash's accusation entirely and giving their keratin horn a squeeze. The texture was rough, beveled, tough.

"Just pressure," the qunari replied, then smiled with a sly sort of confidence, they weren't going to let it go, "And I can smell it on you, Riv."

Riven's flush deepened, rosy cheeks half obscured by the bold lines of their tattoos, "Can never get anything past you, can I?"

"Nah," Taash chided, pulling away and standing to loom over the elf, naked from the waist up. Rook took a long moment to drink in the aching beauty that was Evataash. Their silvery eyes lingered on Taash's horns, spun through with strands of silver-white hair that hung loosely about their face and shoulders. It was liquid moonlight poured over them, complimenting the rosy tint of their ashen skin.

Riven let out a shaky, dreamy sigh.

Taash laughed, and leaned over the elf, planting a strong palm on either side of the mattress. They kissed the tip of Riven's nose, "Get on the bed."

Swallowing thickly, Riven backed up across the sheets. Taash followed them, kneeling on the mattress. They kissed the elf's cheek, lips, chin, and throat. Following the flow of their tattoos down their body. Their big, rough hands pushed up and under Riven's loose shirt, thumbs trailing their top scars, brushing their nipples, then peeling the garment away entirely.

"Taash," Rook breathed as the qunari kissed their way down pale, tattooed skin, pausing at the slight sloping pouch of Riven belly, nuzzling there and kissing the dusting of pale blonde hair that vanished into the waistband of the elf's trousers.

Rumbling with delight, Taash hooked their thumbs into Riven's waistband and pulled, peeling their pants down their legs and tossing them away without ceremony. Leaving Rook bare to the warm air of the storage room.

Taash inhaled deeply, nuzzling between Rook's supple, tattooed thighs. Their verdant eyes flashed with hungry, green fire.

"No teasing," Riven pouted, reaching down to caress their hands over the curves of the qunari's horns. Firm, beveled keratin and cool, smooth, faceted veilquartz.

"Like a dragon," Riven praised, and Taash growled in immediate, pleased response, delving between the elf's legs, lapping them open with a wide hot stripe of their pointed tongue.

Rook shuddered, eyelids fluttering, gripping the horns harder, they pressed Taash's face into their pussy, groaning delightfully at the bevy of sensation that followed, "T-Taash!"

And then all Riven could do was hold on for dear life as Taash feasted between their legs. Two, thick, rough fingers circled their clit in hard fast motions, and Taash's tongue dipped in as their lips sucked and ate.

Rook raised their hips off of the bed, leveraging themself using Taash's horns to increase the already intense pressure and fiction.

Taash growled into Riven's cunt, the sound vibrating through their clit and sending the elf careening off of the precipice into climax. The qunari guided them through it, holding their hips in large, reverent hands until the little elf came down, panting.

They didn't let go of Taash's horns, instead using the appendages to yank the qunari back up their body to kiss them fiercely. Tasting of come and sex.

Taash smiled into their lips, "Nothing gets past me."

Rook snorted, "Damn Adaari nose... horns too."

"You love it," Taash grinned kissing the tip of their nose playfully.

Riven smiled, hands caressing over Taash's horns, their shoulders, fingers carding through the cascade of their silver hair, "Like a dragon."

Taash growled playfully, flipping their bodies and kissing Rook hard.

December 6, 2025 at 10:37 PM

ani | antione 🐉🐍🏳️‍⚧️

@rayquazing.bsky.social

Chapter 5: Like a storm

Rated: Teen

archiveofourown.org/works/637746...

Taash has known rage.

Their mother had often chastised them for being quick to it.

Anger.

Pique.

Rage.

When Rook is taken, placed by Solas in that damned prison in the Fade… they have never known a rage like that before. And what is rage but a well containing the depths of despondent sorrow?

Shathann, Tama , is gone. Dead. Murdered so violently it still makes Taash smell blood to remember her passing.

And now Rook is gone, too.

Riven.

Their little elf.

Their partner.

The person who raised the mirror for them to observe in their reflection who they truly are. The person who held them when Tama was killed. The person who loved them not in spite of but because of the beautiful person they are.

Rook is gone.

And Taash knows bloody, pounding, beating rage in answer.

They are alone.

Riven is gone.

And once they have beaten the rage from their body; killed a dozen venatori, slayed a hundred Antaam. Bloodied their knuckles down to the bone against the walls of the storage room.

They weep.

The storm devours them.

The calm comes like cool waves lapping white, sandy shores.

It feels like a tiny flame in the chest, kindled and blown large so that its warmth spreads to the fingertips, the tips of the toes, the scalp, the points of the ears and the tip of the nose.

Riven is in their arms again.

Asleep on their chest, perfect and pale and naked and covered head to toe in serpent tattoos.

Taash holds fast to that moment; recalling then the dread, the agony and rage and sorrow of loss. But those things cannot linger here, in the eye of the storm. Where the sunlight is bright and unyielding and the elf sleeping in Taash’s arms blinks awake with bleary silver eyes, peering up at them cutely.

“I missed you,” Rook says softly, resting their chin on Taash’s sternum.

The qunari bows their head, kissing the elf chastely.

“I thought I’d lost you,” They whisper into the kiss,

The kiss deepens with promise, with tenderness. Like Riven can breathe into Taash their compulsion to never leave their side ever again. Taash inhales it like air, drinks it down like water.

Never go somewhere I can’t follow, ever again. They convey with their teeth and tongue.

When they part, Rook brushes the pad of their thumb across Taash’s plush lower lip. Black-silver eyes wet, “I promise.”

In the cool light provided by the fist tank, their tears nearly blend with the cool skin.

Taash wipes them away with their thumb, stroking the elf’s cheekbone, “ Taarala. ”

The elf cocks their head, leaning into Taash’s hand.

“ Mine .” Taash says, simply, calmly.

December 6, 2025 at 10:33 PM

ani | antione 🐉🐍🏳️‍⚧️

@rayquazing.bsky.social

Chapter 4: Euphemisms

Rated; Explicit

archiveofourown.org/works/637746...

“ For gold and glory,” Rook breathes reverently against Taash’s ashen skin.

Dragging their lips down each muscle corded forearm, pressing their mouth to each clasped bracelet, each cuff, bangle, and ring as they remove each gilded piece; bearing Taash to the warm air of the storage room.

The jewelry clanks and clatters as it strikes the hard floor. But is quickly forgotten by both parties as Riven kisses across Taash's collarbones, sucks a pretty blue bruise into their throat.

The qunari inhales sharply, blinking as their horned head turns to watch the elf kiss their way down each thread of coiling muscle, each scar, each piercing; nipples, navel, … lower still.

Riven breathes it again when they reach the apex of their lower body, chanting it into the downy hairs of their lower lips like a mantra before they delve to lap at the most painful, fruitful piercing Taash has ever undergone.

“ For gold and glory ,” they suck the quanri’s pierced clit between their black lips, letting the ball on either side of the bar clack against their teeth; the tiny vibrations wrack Taash to their core.

“ Shokra toh ebra ,” Taash pants in reminder to themself, gripping the sheets in a stalwart effort not to overwhelm the little elf. Through struggle, we find who we are . And this is a struggle, a struggle not to lift their hips into the elf’s seeking lips and tongue. A struggle not to grab their golden head, to bury their face against Taash’s cunt.

And who are they in this moment, as their elven lover seeks out the gold and glory between their legs… what is Taash becoming through this act of carnality? This act of love?

“ Shokra toh ebra ,” They repeat as Riven fingers them, still minding their clit with gentle care.

They meet the silver of the elf’s eyes over the flat plane of their belly, heat mounting between their legs. Wetness smears Riven’s angular, tattooed visage. And Taash cannot help but raise their hips off of the bed, meeting the elf’s tongue with each caress, slide, thrust.

“ Shokra toh ebra ,” that’s right. This is the struggle of sex, of love, of intimacy. More precious than any gold, more precipitous in its heights than any glory.

They finish with a shout, and Riven helps them through it. Kissing then between their legs. On their mound. The softness of their belly. Nibbling their thighs.

“For gold and glory,” The elf murmurs one more time, crawling up Taash’s powerful body to kiss their lips.

“Shokra toh ebra,” Taash murmurs one final time into their mouth.

They’re both saying it, without really saying it. But each understands the other, loud and clear; I love you.

December 6, 2025 at 10:29 PM

ani | antione 🐉🐍🏳️‍⚧️

@rayquazing.bsky.social

Chapter 3: Kadan

(Featuring a rivtaash babie) 🐍🐉

Rated: Teen

archiveofourown.org/works/637746...

Their little house; a rustic cabin set on a cliff overlooking the sea, is silent as Taash meanders from room to room, candle held gingerly in their large hand. They lock each window and door with care, triple checking each one.

No one will infiltrate this sanctuary they have made. No one who intends harm to their... the word is still so impossible to them. To speak aloud, to even think. Too breathe it might be to curse it, and Taash wouldn't dare.

For their whole life it had just been themself and their mother. And then not even their mother. Except for Rook they had been entirely alone. Except for Rook...

The scent of blood and iron still lingers in the air, though the midwives have left hours ago. Bellara is asleep on the couch in the living room, ready to lend a hand at the slightest stirring.

Taash passes over her, locks the front door, checks it thrice.

Then, slowly, holding their breath in anticipation, they return to their bedroom. The place from which the bloody odor emanates, but also something... new. Something that somehow smells small, tiny even.

They pause at the threshold, hardly noticing as hot wax drips onto the side of their hand.

There, in the low light of a lantern on their bedside table, Riven is awake for the first time since the birth. It had been traumatic for them, the midwives had made Taash leave the room until the moment of truth had arrived. They'd nearly pulled their own hair out as the elf had screamed and screamed, and screamed.

And now they are awake. Beautiful and pale and glowing in the guttering lanternlight. They have taken the baby from her bassinette, and laid her tiny, pudgy shape across their chest. Cupping her head, bedecked with the tiny buds of what will one day be her mighty horns. Her ears are long and pointed like an elf's, and her pinkish grey skin is somehow the most formulaic combination of her parents'.

"Hey," Rook whispers, voice hoarse from screaming.

Taash takes a tentative step into the room, candle collapsing and falling in a wet rush of hot wax that should burn them. But they don't notice. The step on the flickering wick, smothering it against the floor.

Something threatens in their belly, their chest, their throat, as they join their partner and newborn baby on the bed. Laying down longways beside them, but not daring to touch. Their eyes sting, their throat feels thick and hot and suddenly they cannot formulate a iota of speech. All of those things of higher function have escaped them as they hide their face against Riven's sweat stiff hair, and they lay a large hand on their sleeping baby's back.

They feel her gentle breath, tiny body rising and falling in time with Riven's, whose heartbeat lulls her into the softest of slumbers. She is warm. Good. And her skin is so soft.

"Taash?" Riven says, hardly a whisper so as not to wake baby Ashia.

Ashia. Ash. Their baby.

Taash's full lips part, and the strangled sound that they manage to emit is the full confluence of all of the physical and emotional sensation this tender tableau evokes.

"Kadan."

Riven cocks their head, and, keeping one small pale hand on the baby, they reach out with the other and stroke the tear that has escaped Taash's eye to rush down their cheek, "Hmm?"

Taash lets out a soft chuckle, and whispers with more confidence, "Kadan."

Rook blinks at them with bleary, exhausted silver eyes.

Taash kisses the corner of Riven's mouth, "I get it now. I think. You're my..." they make a soft sound of the most sublime pain, "my family."

The baby stirs making a tiny noise.

Riven's reaction to stroke their baby's back is immediate. The baby fusses a bit, then settles down again, little lips parted for her mighty breaths.

"Kadan," Taash whispers again, kissing Riven's tattooed cheek, and then the baby's downy head.

Riven gives them a questioning look.

"Heart." Taash explains.

Tears fill Riven's eyes, and the qunari laughs softly, pillowing the elf's head against their chest. They have no intention of sleeping on this night. They will keep careful watch as partner and baby rest.

The most beautiful and innocent of images.

Taash's family.

"Kadan."

December 6, 2025 at 10:25 PM

ani | antione 🐉🐍🏳️‍⚧️

@rayquazing.bsky.social

Chapter 2: Kaleidoscope

Rated: Teen

archiveofourown.org/works/637746...

Pride, fierce as fire.

The spirit had channeled their mother on that beach, if only for a moment. The Spirit of compassion channeled the deceased Shathann's voice, and had spoken... her love, her failure, her pride in her child.

And who were they, to take such pride in themself? Not quite Rivaini, equally so Qunari. They straddled the binary of man and woman, and yet also stood well beyond its bounds. They were a warrior... an impossibility under the Qun due to their assignment of woman. They were a dragon slayer with dragon's blood flowing hot and fast through their veins. Spilling past their teeth and tongue at the slightest of whims. They were like a thousand shards of colored glass scattered over the sand. No rhyme to their edges, no reason to their wind worn calling.

Taash lay in bed in the Lighthouse, considering all of this and then some. The weight of their mother's horn was free from their neck for the moment; they took it off when Rook came to spend the evening. It was... weird to wear during sex. But it sat on the bedside table patiently awaiting its re-bequeathment about Taash's neck. When posed with the question of culture, they had ultimately chosen to honor Shathann as the Rivaini do, to be true to themself in their memory of her and their desire to move forward. In their Pride in what she had taught them to be; not Qunari, nor Rivaini, but themself above all things. Shokra toh ebra. Pride fierce as fire.

Riven lay across their chest, head resting on their shoulder. Taash had one arm pressed lazily over their waist, with their free hand they touched the elf's lower lip; tattooed black, like their eyes, their eyelids. Their naked body dancing with serpents.

"What are you thinking about?" Riven murmured against their thumb. Silver eyes flashing in the low light of the nearby brazier.

Taash lay in silence for a long moment, pondering the lines of the elf's handsome face. Riven knew exactly who they were; Rook. That was all they needed, one word. One nickname bestowed upon them by a makeshift father. It encompassed all that was the would-be-savior. Taash longed for such a word; yet they found themself faced with many; Adaari, Qunari, Rivaini, Non-binary, Dragon Slayer...

"I don't know who I am." Taash said into the narrow space between their faces.

Rook edged closer, foreheads nearly touching, and cupped Taash's cheek in a tattooed hand, "Bellara showed me an elven artifact recently... it was this telescope shaped thing. And in the end were a thousand million little pieces of glass, each cut into a different shape. You'd think they would just make a mess at the end of it, but between me and this glass was a lens."

Taash raised a curious brow, "I don't get it."

Riven kissed them tenderly, thumb stroking across their ashen skin, "When you twist it, all those little glass rainbows shift and move and make patterns. Over and over, never repeating. It's called a kaleidoscope."

$Taash traced their fingers over one of the many serpent tattoos that trailed down the elf's pale side, mulling over their words. How they had once likened themself to sea glass. Riven kissed them again, "Taash, you're like the kaleidoscope. So many colors, so much depth. Yet all of it comes together to form the most gorgeous patterns. You don't need to be at odds with yourself, Taash. You're so unique. Take pride." The qunari's full lips quirked into a smile, and they kissed the little snake on Riven's forehead, "I... I am proud. My mother taught me to be proud." Rook chortled, teeth bright white against the stark black of their lips, "Pride fierce as fire, I heard what the spirit said." Taash nodded, throat suddenly tight at the reminder, "...yeah." Riven curled close again, ducking their head into the curve of Taash's powerful shoulder. Taash held them close and tight, pressing their cheek to the elf's pale hair. Pride fierce as fire... Riven was right. They were a Kaleidoscope. A thousand-million fractals of light and color all come together to weave the tapestry of a single, powerful, beautiful person. And Taash was proud.$