Zevran: The only leather goods I want for Valentine’s Day this year are your goods in leather. Ahahaha… It is lucky you love me, no?
Dorian: Let me bring your cold, dead heart back to life this Valentine’s Day.
Fenris: “Take another little piece of my heart now, Valentine—” Varric, this time, you have gone too far. I will not say this. You cannot make me.
Blackwall: I may not be you, but I can talk for hours about how great you are, Valentine. Just ask the Grey Wardens.
Anders: This year, Valentine, I won’t drown the world in blood to keep you safe. I got you some chocolates instead. You’re very welcome.
Solas: Let the Dread Wolf take you this Valentine’s Day.
The Iron Bull: Romantic plans? That’s all well and good, but where are the chocolates? The little ones with the Orlesian guimauves? And the sprinkles. And the fudge… Ahhhhhh, the fudge. Will there be fudge?
Sebastian: Neither the heir nor the spare, but you’ve caught my heart in your snare. [chuckles] Varric wanted me to rhyme that with ‘underwear’.
Alistair: Here, take this down, courtly scholars. Official business. Very important. Ahem. ‘Roses are red—I got you one already—something something that rhymes with already. Teddy? Steady? Freddy?’ Do we know a Freddy, and is he romantic? Why are you still writing this down? I’m clearly thinking out loud, it’s not dictation when I don’t—
Cole: Roses are red, violets are blue—blue as deep water, waves lick the sundered shore, stones slapped slick to silence, hull docked on rocks. …Varric wins the bet. I didn’t finish the poem.
Cullen: Nice, ah… Nice weather we’re having today, isn’t it? That is— I suppose I should have thought about this before I— Right. Well. Happy Valentine’s Day. If that’s the sort of thing you— Maker’s breath.
Tamlen: My love for you is like the Deep Roads—never forgotten, seemingly unending, but lost to the darkness beneath, lethallan.
Varric: And I’m still not a love interest. Happy Valentine’s Day!