#Ferelden is Alberta Canada.

[mistressandry]

Expeditions and Expectations ⛺

———— Rook and Harding take their new friend Emmrich camping.

the most vanilla shit you've ever seen ⎮ 7k ⎮ AO3 link ————

Day 1

“Right…” Harding slapped the top of her rucksack to verify its integrity. “All ready to go?”

She turned around to see an eager, yet haphazardly packed Rook and far too clean Emmrich, fretting over last minute necessities with Manfred.

“Oh, but.. maybe I was too hasty in getting rid of the letter opener—”

“Emmrich.” Harding snapped, making his shoulders jolt up, caught trying his luck. “It’s two nights! Your letters can wait!”

“We also have like.. so many knives”, Rook chimed in an attempt to help. This tangent that didn’t actually address the overpacking issue at hand, but was much more interesting to her. “So many weapons in general! Axe, daggers. Bet we could even carve you a letter opener!” she continued, though she didn’t seem to expect a response.

Harding watched as Emmrich’s pristine posture deflated with embarrassment.

“I’m sorry, Harding. I just wanted to get this right! I’m so grateful and filled with excitement to ‘rough it up’ with you two in the great outdoors. But such activities aren't in my usual repertoire, and I’m afraid I might be foolishly trying to overcompensate for inexperience.”

Harding’s stern expression softened into a smile. At least he was aware of it!

“You’ve been too good at too many things for too long. It’s only natural for you to get a bit antsy.”

“Aren’t academics supposed to be comfortable with learning new things though?” Rook added, in her continued less-than-successful attempts to help.

Emmrich looked down at her in doe-eyed, devastated shock. “Oh, please don’t make this worse. Insights into my prideful failings as a scholar are not appreciated at this time.”

The two dwarven ladies immediately looked at each other with glee, unable to stifle a few giggles at the fancy man’s pathetic words. Everything was so promising. They couldn’t wait to see the professor so outside his usual areas of expertise.

Harding smiled up at him. “Oh, Emmrich.. it’s not that bad! You’re excited and that’s a good thing! I know it’s been a while, but you can handle being a novice for a few days.”

“If you want to experience camping, the Inquisitor’s top scout’s the one to do it with. No one can put a tent up as fast as Harding!” The other dwarf reassured him.

“Exactly! And Rook will probably be able to keep you alive while I’m away”.

Rook gave him a thumbs up and wink. It was a bit much, but the intention was there! Their efforts seemingly paid off as Emmrich gave in. “Perhaps I don’t have to do everything perfectly.” “Oh Maker, no.” Rook exclaimed, visibly terrified at the concept.

“That’s the spirit! But we're losing daylight. Can I trust you’re able to carry your bags?” Harding asked so kindly you could barely hear the smugness in her one-rucksack needing voice. That’s including the tent.

“Of course! I am nothing if not independent!” the professor asserted, only slightly struggling to take an assortment of gilded bags from Manfred. Though Emmrich was a bit rattled, Harding knew her new friend wasn’t going to let a little embarrassment keep him from new adventures.

“Manfred! Please make sure to accurately store all my correspondences. Keep track of your tasks in the itinerary and don’t get too rowdy!”

His ward hissed gleefully as he scurried off with the letter opener.

While Rook bent down to hoist up her things, she complimented Emmrich’s creative use of the side pockets on his rucksack.

“I brought a few field guides for our expedition!” Emmrich explained, “I’ve heard such lovely things about the local flora in the Frostback Mountains, and I thought to cross reference them to their Nevarran varieties.” “That’s cute! I’ve got a few books with me too. It’s been a while, but I could vaguely help you with plants in the area.”

“That would be most delightful!” He lit up clapping his hands together as he was one to do. Seemingly wary of their eyes on him, the giddy man gathered himself, announced he was ready, and began walking towards Harding and their exit. Rook patted down her pockets with a look of amusement. Emmrich was fun!

“Pretty, sure I’m good to go too!” Rook called out to Harding.

“Packed all the essentials?”

“Toilet paper? Yes.” 

“Then let’s move out!” The trio walked through the Lighthouse’s eluvian and into the Crossroads. Harding was used to Rook’s various loose tools creating a ruckus, but it paled in comparison to the cacophony of jingling coming from their newest colleague. Each step was scored by a symphony of metal singing and colliding with each other. “I’m never taking you two on a heist” she teased, which was met with shocked offense and excuses. “We could be SO stealthy if we wanted to!” Rook contested, defending herself and her fellow slander victim. That they had allerted more elven constructs than usual was apparently unrelated.

After an hour of travel, feigned indignation and a significant dent in their snack inventory, they reached their next destination. As they passed through the final eluvian and into the greenery of Ferelden, Harding asked Rook, “Just like old times?”

“Like we never left.”

After a moment of silence Rook hurriedly added:

“Alright, there might have been slightly less Blight back then.”

“Just a smidge.” ———— It was mid-day when they stepped out into the small and aged elven shrine, nestled in the cliffside just above the tree line of the Frostback Mountains. If Harding squinted and deluded herself enough, she could swear Lake Calenhad was on the horizon. The remnants of a descending path had eroded over the millennia, but were easily overcome by light stone shaping and gentlemanly hands offering support over the larger jumps. Having left their armour back at the Lighthouse, the trio were sprier than usual.

Rook looked particularly more lively as she jumped along a rocky outcrop, even though they had made it down to a comfortable game path. “You must feel light as anything without your armour and hammer,” Emmrich mused as a challenging leap had Rook furrowing her brow and sticking her tongue out for top-tier concentration. 

“You can say that again! Not to mention the weight of responsibilities. I’m off-duty!”.

“Hey!” Harding playfully exclaimed. “You’re not off that easy! You’ve got very important tasks.” “Yeah, yeah, but these are things I’d happily do anyway: Take care of the camp and keep Emmrich alive.”

“Please…”, Emmrich prayed looking up to the sky in desperation.

“We’re basically the hired help!” Rook added before jumping down with a hefty thud. ”Oh no, I sure hope we don’t have to do any whimsical exploring!”

Harding continued forward with a smile on her face. “Heaven forbid.”

They wandered some more looking for a place to set camp. Harding surveyed the topography and consulted her maps, Rook mined whacking enemies and dangerous trees with her axe, and Emmrich trailed behind, drenching himself in fresh air.

Nice as the Lighthouse was, it was refreshing to have reliable, non-floating ground under their feet. The next few days promised rest, reflection and levity. Even though Harding would have to work, this was still her home and her bedrock. A return to her basics, with friends old and new. She wanted to see Rook unwind and was desperate to see what “letting loose” looked like for Emmrich.

Harding’s bag hit the ground with a thud. “Perfect! This’ll do nicely.” Rook and Emmrich nodded in approval.

“Yep.” Rook affirmed. “Good trees. Great branch. Nice brook.” Rook helped Harding set up the tent. You could tell which knots were Rook’s and which were Harding’s. In between jabs, they kept eagerly glancing over at Emmrich as he reshuffled his essentials: Several sets of clothing, the infamous shaving kit, alchemical bowls, plant samples... He’d brought a lot but been surprisingly compact!

“How many books did you get him down to?” Rook whispered.

“Five!! I was quite proud of myself.”

They pulled at the ropes and gave the tarp a big thwack to finalise the tent. To account for their esteemed guest, they had even propped up a lean-to for.. pondering? The women weren’t quite sure, but it felt like the sort of a thing a senior necromancer would enjoy.

Their instincts proved correct, as he already started placing various knick knacks under it. Mysteries abound as to where he’d managed to store that quilted blanket.

The blanket made a comfortable place to sit as Harding passed around her pre-prepared sandwiches for lunch. Emmrich whipped out a teapot.

“This is really good!” Rook declared between scoffage. “It really is remarkable how a bit of jam can elevate the palette”.

Harding blushed but warmly welcomed her friends’ approval.

“I’ve got to start heading out soon. Didn’t note anything dangerous in the immediate area—”

”Aside from the bears?” Rook chimed in, careful not to let Emmrich see her grin.

“Oh, I only saw tracks for two or three of them around here.” Emmrich’s look of horror shifted into narrowed eyes and a slight frown.

“But beyond those very real concerns, we’ll be alright to conduct ourselves freely?” he grumbled.

“Yeah! You should be able to explore to your heart’s content.”

“Excellent!”

“Just try to keep screaming and fires to a minimum.” It was Rook’s turn to narrow her eyes and frown. “Fine..”

Harding unhooked a smaller kit from her rucksack and convened with Rook on the points of interest she’d be scoping out. Rook promised to save Harding some dinner and wished her luck.

“You’re quite sure she’ll be alright out there?” Emmrich asked Rook.

“Of course! She’s an expert scout and you’ve heard her.. Daughter of Titans.”

————

Warm sunlight dappled the mossy forest floor as Rook and Emmrich admired another flower for his collection. Rook tried to recall its name for her studious companion.

“Thaaat.. is a Lily of the Valley! No, shoot, it’s.. it’s closely related to it. Mostly grow on cliffs? Look it up in your book!”

Emmrich excitedly flipped through the pages, bangles jangling upon success. “Aha! I’ve found it! Solomon’s Seal.” 

“That’s the one! I’m not sure what medicinal uses it could have, but it is quite pretty.”

Emmrich carefully placed the flower in his designated plant sample satchel. Rook’s eyes roved the forest floor for the next hit of dopamine. She’d given him the pinecone with tiny mushrooms on it. Pointed out the very cool lichen formation on a boulder. Found some really interesting scat and explained what could be deduced from it. It was nice having someone enthusiastically involved in this part of her life. It was nice to bond outside of destruction. There!

“This one’s called… fox.. bread…” Fuck did she hate not remembering official terms in a field she was supposedly good in. At least Rook and Emmrich had settled into a solid groove with her giving hazy details on a specimen, and him finding it  in his field guides within two seconds.

“Something vaguely related to the words ‘fox’ and ‘bread’! Basically a clover but that’s not the important bit. Taste it!”

Emmrich smiled and didn’t waste a second taking the plant from her outstretched hand and placing it in his mouth. Rook munched on her own collection while staring intently, eager for his reaction. He regarded everything so genuinely.

“My! What a delightfully sharp flavour…”

“It’s something to do with the acids in it. Goes well in a salad!”  ———— The sky dimmed and the campfire crackled as a chill began to set.

Rook offered Emmrich some of her peppermint liquor. “It’ll keep you warm.”

She’d handed him many new things that day, and each was cheerfully accepted. Taking a swig from her flask, Emmrich began forming the words to thank his travelling companions for humoring him as a guest on this trip. “Rook, I wanted to thank you for being so accommodating.”

“Don't sweat it.” She interrupted before he went further. “This is much more for my benefit. I needed to get away from it all and Harding knew it.”

Emmrich raised his eyebrow in concern, returning the flask. He did not fill the silence, instead waiting for her to continue. Rook flicked at embers along the edge of the fire with her expertly sharpened stick. 

“Truth be told, approved leadership has avoided me all my life. I'm pretty sure Varric appointed me on a fluke. He would have given the same pep talk to any chump who happened to be about. Use his words to mold them into the person he needed. I just happened to be in the vicinity. Sometimes I wonder what I’m doing here. What I’m contributing..” 

He could not comment on the intentions of a fallen compatriot he’d never met, but her words sounded like the harsh internal thoughts of a heavy heart and a tired mind.

Continuing her monologue, she chuckled, ”But! even if I don’t believe in myself anymore, I'm not giving up my shot just yet.”

“When I left Redcliffe I thought I'd be able to make a name for myself. Influence our history. Uncover our past. A bit hard for a surfacer, obviously! Maker, the way my mom and her dad would talk about Orzammar.. It was hard not to want that connection. But what have I truly accomplished? Harding’s made more of an impact than I ever did. Stone save me, she spent years with Dagna and is on a last name basis with the Inquisitor. And now... Now this.”

Now this was a feeling Emmrich was well acquainted with. “I can empathise basing your value on external standards of accomplishment.” He revealed, careful not to share too many of his insecurities.

Rook smiled and looked at her flask. Silence set again.

“Did you know she can dream now..?” She said so quietly it was almost a whisper.

Over his decades of research on the Fade, he had wondered about the psychological impact caused by a race being completely disconnected from it. Learning that the lyrium dagger in their possession was the tool and that Solas was the perpetrator for this severance had certainly brought it top of mind again. Especially with the revelation that those severed Titan souls had morphed into the Blight. The prospect of reconnecting the tranquilized Titans with some kind of purified blight... Perhaps there were some papers he could revisit? Another day. Potential research and unsubstantiated promises were not what Rook needed right now. She needed a tether.

"You're not missing out on much. Mine are usually just about being chased by a faceless specter." Emmrich shared, attempting to make her feel less alone.

"Vorgoth?"

"Hush!" His bracelets jingling as he instinctively smacked her with a chuckle. 

Rook’s demeanour lightened as she poked at some charcoal. She looked over at him with a smile and a shrug. "I just need some time to get out of my head. Forget the task at hand and return to my foundations. I am more than happy with your added company!"

Emmrich was thrilled for verbal confirmation that he wasn't making a fool of himself out here. 

"Rook, your enthusiasm and care for others is infectious. I may preach the study of the unknown, but in my personal life I am a creature of habit held back by fears of external perceptions. I've travelled more around Thedas in the past month, than I have the past decade, gaining a treasure trove of experiences. I can not speak for the past intentions of others, but thus far your curiosity and compassion have been the best guide I could hope for. I think you've got what it takes."

Visibly flustered, Rook momentarily struggled to reply. "You’re a very kind man, but I have to wonder how much that liquor is sweetening your words!”

Emmrich scoffed at the deflection and implication. "I could drink you under the table.” Remembering the contents of his bags he happily added “However, I did bring some sherry should we run out."

————

The stars were out and their tent had long since blended into the dead of night. Harding discreetly opened the flap and slinked in without a sound.

“Boo!”

"Shitfuc—” Harding’s head flew up, narrowly managing to not bring the whole tent down. Heart recovering from the scare and eyes adjusting to the darkness, she could now see Rook sitting up wrapped in a blanket. Emmrich continued his slumber, apparently none the wiser.

“...Couldn't sleep?"

"Naah.” Rook replied at a more appropriate volume “Get into any trouble?"

"Not too badly! Blight's getting worse, but I managed to find an Avvar camp I can report to Cadash." The warmth of the tent and Harding’s friend were a welcome relief after the chill of the night. She’d been out longer than expected, but achieved results.

"One’s better than none! Left some now-cold stew by your roll."

"Thanks, Aldwir." Harding said, desperate for proper food, regardless of temperature.

"What kind of hired help would I be otherwise?" Rook teased.

As Harding slurped away at her meal, Rook caught her eye and nodded towards the sleeping professor's legs.

"... I miss Varric."

Harding giggled, reminiscing over the advantages of an all dwarf party.

"We did use to have decidedly more leg room with us three." “How was he?” Harding asked mid-chew, with some concern, but mostly just interest in Emmrich’s potential camping antics.

“He's like a very smart puppy. Kept me company. I showed him good rocks.”

“Highest caliber, I’m sure.”

“I’m not an animal.” Rook assured, laying her back on her mattress, while Harding finished her meal. Bowl emptied and discreetly placed at the end of the tent, Harding scooched over to Rook, gave her a kiss on the forehead before snuggling up in her sleeping bag. Rook let out a light-headed sigh. "Minrathous wasn't your fault, Rook."

"... Yeah..." Rook replied begrudgingly. Harding wasn’t convinced her friend believed it.

Emmrich shifted and muttered in his sleep.

"... He brought a nightgown." Rook revealed, in a familiar attempt to change the subject.

"He did not." Harding jeered.

"And a little hat."

Harding shot up to squint past Rook at their intrepid adventurer's night time attire.

————

Day 2

Emmrich emerged from the tent, arms outstretched mid-yawn. The pompom at the tip of his hat jolted at an unexpected greeting. 

“Goooood morning, Professor!”

“Harding!” He cheered, placing a delicate hand on his chest. “What a relief. I must admit, I was quite worried about you last night.”

“Yeah, sorry about that. Had a little hiccup, but nothing I couldn't handle. I’m not some delicate lace!” She giggled, amused by her own pun. Emmrich cheerfully accepted a bowl of porridge and cup of tea she’d prepared.

“It was witless of me to cast doubt on your abilities. I should know better by now.” he replied with a light smile, adding a spoonful of jam and a pinch of salt. They sat together and watched as the early morning sunlight slowly awoke the forest.

“Nice slippers.” Harding noted.

“Why thank you! I acquired them from a delightful travelling vendor a few years ago.” Delighted by the interest, Emmrich went into great detail explaining the lining. Harding seemed very amused by his storytelling as she sipped her tea.

“So what’s on the itinerary for you two today?” Harding asked.

“We’re going on a hike!” Emmrich identified the correct map, found their location after a few moments of squinting, and began tracing his fingers along their planned route. “Rook spotted a promising path that’d take us higher up this mountain. With any luck the terrain will allow us to meet with the river that flows down towards us. We’ll then follow along the waters, until we reach the riverbank just north of here.”

Emmrich was glad to receive Harding’s nods of approval, while she scraped the final spoonfuls of her porridge. She wished she could go as well, but still had a few more locations to report on. Laying the map flat to show the larger area, Harding showed Emmrich where she’d been yesterday.

“I don’t like what I’m seeing down this direction, but over here wasn’t as bad as we’d expected,” Harding detailed, circling general areas and showing some of her initial notes. Emmrich listened as she explained how yesterday would inform her route choices. She proudly showed the mage where she’d been able to use her new stone shaping magic to avoid long detours.

“It’s all quite fascinating, Harding.” Emmrich proclaimed, thankful for the insights she was sharing with him. His studies had not required the practical application of such things and now he found himself lacking. While he hated looking foolish at his age, he still loved to learn and was grateful for kind teachers.

“I’m glad you think so! When me and Rook were younger, we’d run away for days to explore these kinds of parts of Ferelden. After all the travelling trying to find Solas.. It’s nice to be home.”

Emmrich felt fortunate he had been trusted with such a meaningful location to his new friends. “This is a special place. There is a magic to the nature and serenity of it all. Different from the peace I might usually find at the Necropolis.”

“I haven’t found the likes of it anywhere else!” Harding shared, loudly inhaling the crisp air, before tilting her head with a caveat. “Arlathan Forest did come close, but the birch trees were a bit too creepy.”

They sat and listened to the early morning bird songs.

“Right! I’m off.” Harding said, abruptly picking herself up and packing up her document pouch.

“So soon? Should we wake Rook before your departure?”

“Don’t you dare, Volkarin!” Harding playfully warned, while shuffling her bow on to her back. “She needs the rest. And you, my junior scout, can update her on my route.”

“I shan’t let you down, Scout Harding.” Emmrich vowed, already refiling his mental notes for best recollection access upon Rook’s stirring.

“Good man! I’ll be back earlier this time, I promise.”

Emmrich changed into more appropriate clothes, placed his quilt on an even surface and began his morning exercises with relish. The peaceful setting melted away anxieties and fears that had previously denied him new experiences. ———— Rook and Emmrich made their way higher up the mountain following a winding path. Still below the treeline, they went at a slow pace. It wasn’t for lack of energy, but because the two kept being distracted by plants, rock formations, passing squirrels and the scenery.

A beautiful pine with a low tree fork was practically begging to be climbed, and Rook would not deny it. Hands covered in sap and sticking to the loose bark, she yelled down to her companion from several branches above: “When was the last time you climbed a tree?”

Rook could only imagine his expression as he indignantly replied. “I'm 55 years old!”

She sighed and looked out wistfully towards the horizon. “People should climb trees more often…”

Her contemplation was interrupted by a slightly judgemental probe from below.

“Is this a Ferelden thing?”

For someone so seemingly kind, Emmrich could be quite bitchy! Aghast, she dropped the matter and herself shortly after, though her knees didn’t care for the impact. Rook wiped the sap off on her trousers.

Maybe it was the rings? Rook had clocked that Emmrich had removed most of his jewellery, opting to carry them in a cushioned embroidered purse instead. She still wasn’t sure how a grave dowry works, but loved the romance of the ritual, and she definitely wouldn’t be the reason said dowry got scratched. As they trundled along she noticed his lighter outdoor attire revealed even more gold around his neck. The loose collar suited him. If the joys of tree climbing didn’t interest Emmrich, Rook would have to find another topic.

“So what do you think? Natural, Avvar, or Dwarven?” She asked after some consideration.

“The path? I was wondering the same! Perhaps it is a combination of the three? We’ve found no real markers other than our cultural knowledge of the area.” Emmrich energetically replied.

Rook delighted and continued, “There could be carvings further up? Depending on how high this goes. Those would be more likely to stand the test of time, even in harsher conditions.”

This came dangerously close to proposing an extension to their route and after consulting the prickling in her thighs, Rook decided: No. Better to speculate about the cultural origins of the ancient path without an increased incline. For now at least.

Their perfectly adequate high vantage point helped Rook identify the perfect location for coupling up with the river. Before beginning their descent, they sat on the edge of their moss covered cliff for lunch. Rook kept an eye out for harts along the water to point out to Emmrich. A couple of fallen trees almost had her fooled.

She settled for pointing out various birds.

Suddenly aggravated, Emmrich began to rave about a swallow that had refused to leave his study. Hands in the air he described in animated detail how this bird had “besieged” his sanctuary for days on end. While visibly worked up about the incident, he would smile whenever Rook laughed. It was nice seeing him like this.

————

The melting ice from the mountains now rushed down the river in a brilliant blue. Sandstone had melted like butter under its weight, while granite stood fast and bit back at its aggressor. Millions of pebbles littered the river bed, broken off and smoothed out by the rushing waters polishing them against their kin.

Rook tasked Emmrich and herself with finding five really good pebbles and then “comparing notes”. She had tenuously convinced him this was in fact a Dwarven thing. Emmrich took his task very seriously, selecting pastel colors in interesting shapes, and a strikingly black and white specimen.

He turned around to find Rook precariously balancing on a rocky offshoot.

“Surely that surface is far too slippery? That algae looks slick as anything! What if you fall and hurt yourself?”

"It's fiiiine." Rook insisted, taking another step. She immediately slipped and fell into the water, bashing her body into the rock.

“I have new findings”, she croaked.

Emmrich rushed over to help and scold her, though she maintained she was fine and laughed it off.

Once they got back to the camp, she was eager to show off her new underlayer.

“It's merino wool.” ———— Emmrich watched as Rook’s taut body split the firewood. There was an instinctive artistry in the motion. Her brow and shoulders crinkled up as she gathered momentum. The axe would fall with such a satisfying thunk, it didn’t really matter when she missed.

“It’s because of the angle of the stump, to be clear.” She’d explained, unsolicited. It probably didn’t do well to have mages witness error in her hand-eye coordination.

In all honesty, connecting the axe with the wooden logs was of secondary interest to him. Brutishly hitting it against anything looked beautiful. Emmrich had never been one for weapons, but there was something quintessential about an axe and the outdoor experience. It called for a rough sort, perhaps clad in plaidweave. It was not the sort of thing people would expect him to wield.

“Rook… would you allow me to have a go?”

Lost in determined thought, she looked stunned for only a second, before offering him the axe with a smile. While Rook and Harding seemed quick to make fun of their friends, he had learned a greater appreciation for the comfort this provided. They didn’t mock a person’s inexperience. They mocked the anxiety that comes with it. Turning it into a joke made it easier to overcome. After much study, he was pleased to confirm their badgering was thinly veiled affection.

Rook stood behind him and showed him the proper stance. His legs had to be properly apart, and the axe held just so. He controlled his posture very well, but his momentum had something to gain.

“You’ve got to really give it some! Dig deep! Find something infuriating inside you, channel it through to the hilt as you raise the axe, then…. Whack!” Rook giddily described. He furrowed his brow.

CRACK.

Filled with pride, they celebrated his firewood feat. Emmrich finished up the final lot, while Rook sat on the side sharpening her sticks, occasionally sharing words of encouragement as his technique improved.

Despite a few splinters, his hair being out of place, and getting sweaty, he found it exhilarating. Emmrich wiped the sweat off his brow and placed Rook’s axe carefully against the stump. “What a thrill.”

Rook looked up at him with a chuckle. Emmrich was too pleased with himself to worry about his appearance. Nearly. He straightened his tunic.

“It’s much more physical than our process for the veilfires of the Necropolis.” Emmrich continued.

“I know veilfire has lots of benefits, but I still love a proper fire, ya know? The color, the smell, the ritual of it all.. ”

“While the green glow will always make me feel at home, you do not need to convince me of the joys of ritual.” Emmrich looked at his books and Rook pondered her growing pile of sticks. His contemplation was interrupted by a tangent query.

“So, what was your go-to angry thought?”

Though he felt safe, Emmrich panicked about how much he dared reveal his insecurities. Insecurities about insecurities were like that.

“I… thought about how my fears have kept me from so many things I’ve desired.”

“Ooh, yes that’s a good one. Real tasty.”

Though occasionally stumbling, Rook had a validating way with words. If you spoke from the heart, she’d greet it like an old friend.

“What about you?” he wondered.

“Oh, Emmrich, what aren’t I mad about?” she laughed.

“Currently? I can’t get the fuck over the fact that the dagger I’ve been carrying at my side for months now, is the one Solas used to tranquilize the titans. This dagger euthanized an entire race ‒ MY race ‒ and that damage is barely considered as a footnote in its crimes.” She was trying to say it calmly, but Emmrich could hear the anger bubbling underneath. His gaze fell on the dagger, now shaped like a large gold bangle, attached to her belt even at this moment. It looked light, but dug into her side with the weight of much more.

“Ah. Yes. That is. Hm.” his usual talent with words evading him, as he wondered how awkward he must look standing here. Every response he tried to compile felt lacking.

“Yup.” Rook concluded, returning to her sticks and giving him an exit from the conversation. After a moment of reflection, Emmrich decided to sit next to her.

“I haven’t wanted to intrude, but I assume you and Harding have talked about—”

“NOPE.” Rook slashed deep into the wood.

“Or, I mean, she did. And she can’t find it within herself to be angry. These things. Apparently. Just. Happen.”

The stick was scarred beyond comprehension.

“May I?” Emmrich gently asked, gesturing at the dagger. Rook seemed surprised by the interest, but obliged, unhooking it off her belt. He turned the dagger over, examining it thoughtfully. He could feel Rook analyzing his every movement. He did not wish to trivialize any element of it.

“You’re not only carrying the tool for our demise, but the loss of your ancestors as well. The weight and pain must be immense.”

“So much was taken from us, and no one seems angry enough.” She sounded so fragile.

He thought he heard her whisper: “If I had just picked it up a bit earlier…”

He inspected the bright blue lyrium embedded in the dagger. The blood of titans was ripped out to mold physical bodies for the first elves, and when the elves could not calm their anger, titan blood was corrupted again into a weapon to kill them. Lyrium’s song must be a sad one.

Emmrich placed a sympathetic hand on Rook’s shoulder and heard a vulnerable thanks. With a loud exhale, Rook finished her final carving, got up and began picking up the scattered wood shavings.

“Sorry, Emmrich, I’m just not in a great head space right now. I’m struggling, but I’ll be alright.” He did believe Rook, but all the same he wished he could comfort her more.

“Would some more wood chopping help your mood?” He asked, looking up at her as he handed back the lyrium dagger. With just a hint of hesitation she laughed. “I think I’ve massacred enough wood for one day, but thank you for the care!”

“My door is always open, should you wish to talk, Rook. It doesn’t serve to hold these things in. I may specialize in speaking with the dead, but I do practice with the living as well.”

“Thanks, Volkarin. I might take you up on that.” She said and began gathering the fire wood.

Emmrich pondered Rook’s words and her habit of expressing emotions in short, powerful bursts. Her hair snagged on the logs as she picked them up. He didn’t realize he was staring, until Rook ushered him to look away. ———— Harding returned with a bright smile and a pouch full of dandelion leaves.

Given the company, dinner was unsurprisingly loaf-based. Sauteed mushrooms, garlic and onions over soft slices of bread, accompanied by wild herb salad flavoured with cheese, preserved radishes and roasted nuts.

The trio sat around the campfire laughing at nonsense like past misadventures and whether or not Emmrich could take on a bear. Harding filled out her reports, Emmrich sketched his plant finds, and Rook avoided slicing into her fingers with a carving knife.

A proven creature of habit, Emmrich brought his night-time routine outside to remain with good company. He emerged from the tent wearing his truly delightful cap, striped nightgown, and slippers, with a decanter of sherry and several intricately detailed boxes in tow. Out of respect for the professor and hopes he’d still appreciate their company after this trip, Rook and Harding tried their best to ignore all the ripe material in front of them. After the third step of his skincare regimen and several delicate sips of sherry, they finally broke.

Jab after jab had Rook gripping Harding’s thigh in a fit of wheezes.

“Are you sure you’re not in your 90’s?” Harding cackled.

“You two are insufferable.” Emmrich scoffed with a barely concealed smile. Seemingly undeterred by their antics, he carefully placed the last of his jewellery into their designated boxes.

“Sorry, Emmrich… it’s just all a bit too Emm-RICH for us.” “HA!” Rook shrieked, tightening her grip.

Emmrich rolled his eyes and grinned, massaging the joints of his now exposed hands with moisturizer. The ladies performed their comedy routine for the rest of his. The sherry helped.

Despite their fascinating topics, Emmrich was fast asleep before the other two. Though drunk on joy, Harding and Rook finally calmed down enough to wrap up the night.

"Get some sleep." Harding weakly grumbled, nuzzling her pillow.

"Yeah...... Sweet dreams." Rook replied, eyes closed and cozied up, eager for the embrace of some actual sleep. ———— It didn’t last. The night offered fleeting respite, as Rook found herself awake once again. Curled up, she fought the urge to toss and turn about, reasoning that stilling her body might still mind.

She watched Harding’s occasional twitches and tried to match her friend’s breathing.

Maybe if Rook matched the basics, everything could be different. Maybe she’d be better. Do better. Maybe whatever wasn’t good enough inside of her could be fixed. But Rook doesn’t twitch in her sleep. Shouldn’t lying still as stone make her closer to the titans? Maybe stone wasn’t meant to be still. Maybe there’s a reason sleeping dwarves are confused for the dead.

The silence of the night wasn’t kind. Her body overflowed with feelings of inadequacy and jealousy. Conflict electrified every inch of her skin. Her mind wouldn’t stop. Cut from the same stone, but her faults were too deep. A constant comparison she could never escape. Maybe Harding would have done this better.

A slim arm wrapped itself around Rook. Its slender fingers and wrist, naked without their usual adornments. The hair on the back of her neck stood up, as Emmrich muttered into it in his sleep. The heat from his breath did little to stop the chill down her spine. The knuckles of his other hand pressed against her back and his chest as he slowly filled his lungs. Warmth emitted from the soft fabric of his nightgown.

The moment was quiet and tender. Every muscle in her body stiffened in panic.

Rook inhaled sharply and found herself overwhelmed with notes of incense and clover from Emmrich’s perfume, closely followed by the sweet smell of sherry on his breath. Frozen in place, her mind raced to figure out what was happening. She couldn’t move — wouldn’t move. If she did, it might cause him to readjust his position again. Away from her. Why that mattered, she didn’t know. Hot blood rushed through her veins fighting the frost up and down her skin.

Asleep. He was definitely asleep. A quiet snoring escaped his lips.

The hand on Rook’s back gently wrapped itself around her hair. His other arm tightened around her waist. Stubble nuzzled against her neck. A richness overpowered her frantic mind and her heartbeat began to slow. At some point, she must have started matching his deep, calming breathing. It was comfortable in his arms. Safe. Quiet. Her eyelids grew heavier and heavier.

Just as Rook was on the cusp of sleep, Emmrich muttered something and turned over to his side of the tent again.

Eyes still closed, Rook chuckled. She might not be able to dream, but she could still imagine. She went to sleep with a smile on her face. ————

Day 3

Rook wasn’t sure why she didn’t mention anything over breakfast. Perhaps she was saving it for the perfect clapback at a later date. Perhaps she needed to figure out why she felt a bit embarrassed by it first. Deciding it was probably unimportant, she waved the worry away. What mattered was that she’d finally gotten a good night’s sleep and the fresh air of home was starting to light her soul.

The morning sun dappled a symphony of rustling alders, splashes on the riverbank and gleeful screams.

Harding and Rook fought for glory and dominance over the waters.

“Give up, Aldwir!”

“Not on your life!”

Stubborn, rested and in good spirits, both parties were destined to battle till the end of time. Water rose in the air, as if reaching for the snowy peaks they’d descended from. The Frostback Mountains might never recover from the carnage. The only witness tried desperately to ignore them, so he could concentrate on the task at hand. Shaving.

A well placed splash bashed Rook’s defenses, causing her to turn away from her competitor, laughter interrupted by sporadic choking. Her gaze landed on the old man trying to angle his reflection in the mirror he’d tenuously balanced on a large rock. His hair was still in a damp curl from bathing. His loose linen tunic clung to the lower part of his back. Rook stared blankly as he arched his neck preparing his blade.

She decided to consult her partner in crime. "Do you think we could do it again?" Harding shimmied over, a glint in her eye, piecing together the potential for mischief in record time. "Now, wouldn't that be fascinating?" Hands cupped around her mouth, Rook shouted "Oi, Emmrich!” The old man startled, and turned towards the silly women he’d been efficiently tuning out.

“You'd look very dignified and rugged if you grew a beard!" Harding hollered. The women turned to look at each other and nodded fervently.

“Varric got SO much more respect when he grew his out.”

“It’s true!” Harding giggled.

“It really is remarkable how a bit of a beard can elevate the face!” Rook loudly mused, still impressed they’d been able to pressure the old dwarf into growing hair somewhere other than his chest. Sure the respect had mostly been from them, but that still counts!

They watched as Emmrich sighed a heavy sigh and put down his razer. Victory, so soon? Or had he just grown tired of them already?

"You ladies jest, but truth be told, your words carry a great shame. You see, I tried growing a beard but a few years ago and it was… Patchy". He looked broken with the admission.

Rook and Harding gasped, not sure to what extent any of them were playing along or being deeply serious. The two women rushed through the water towards him, drenching Emmrich with consolation and affirmations.

“Moustaches are severely underrated forms of facial hair”, Rook began.

”It’s not just any man who could pull off a look like that!” Harding added.

If he had genuinely been upset by his subpar beard growing capabilities, being complimented for his moustache styling seemed to do the trick. Rook and Harding made a good team when it came to overwhelming others.

If he couldn’t grow a beard, the stubble wasn’t a bad look either. Rook felt it rather suited him.

“You’re both too kind”, a bemused Emmrich sheepishly smiled as he placed a hand on his chest. “Thank you for accepting me in my great shame.”

“That’s what expeditions are for”, Rook grinned. The fancy man really did have a way with words. ———— Campfire cleaned up and tent put away, Harding slapped the top of her of her perfectly organized rucksack, pleased with her results and grateful for the past few days.

“Right!” She proclaimed, calling for attention and hoisting her things on to her back. “Ready to go?”

She turned around to see a happy, yet haphazardly packed Rook and a slightly disheveled Emmrich, fretting over his plant samples.

As Harding had hoped, Rook seemed calmer and more confident. Her friend had a tendency to get in her head and… the voices weren’t always kind. The break seemed to have done her good.

As for Emmrich: he had definitely loosened up and behaved much more comfortably in their company now. He seemed to have really enjoyed his time experiencing new things with new friends. He’d even agreed to keep the stubble for a few more days.

It had been a good trip.

———————————————— Notes: That's it's that's the thing!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! This was my first fic and first time writing something that wasn't a script or some quippy post, so it was mega spooky! The lovely and talented @bharv gave me so many tips and was ever so patient and kind. My other writer friend Frank also helped a ton, despite knowing nothing about the game. Tinttu has thus far only made it to Day 2, but has the very important task of helping me figure out wtf I need to tag this as when I finally get it on ao3!

I think writing is fun! Very scary, but fun! It is nice expressing myself in a new way! I hope you liked it!!!!!!! Please tell me you liked it!!!! I crave validation in such a pathetic level!!!!