#antivan crow rook

[bargu]

Rook will obliterate every barrel and crate he finds like any graceful and sublime assassin should. He is truly the pride of Antiva.

And Viago is at his limit.

Lucien de Riva and art made by Barguest, do not copy or reupload please.

[raoneven]

~💜~

[maxx-the-queer]

I do enjoy the fact that each faction gives Rook a couple of unconventional familial figures.

Antivan Crow Rook gets the perpetually together-and-split-up Teia and Viago, whose love languages are bickering and poisons. Rook is Viago's favourite and he would never admit it to them, even if Teia is all too happy to expose his affection with her playful barbs.

Mourn Watch Rook gets Myrna and Vorgoth, the former of whom is akin to a college professor who found a baby in their science lab and the latter of whom is most definitely one of those mysterious executors from across the sea but it's fine because they're just Vorgoth and nobody questions it.

Shadow Dragon Rook gets T4T icons Tarquin and Ashur, a Templar who absolutely despises his job and the literal Black Divine, whose anti-slavery group is so full of queer people it may as well be a gay club. Same bickering energy as Teia and Viago, minus the poisoning and cyclical divorcing.

Grey Warden Rook gets Antoine and Evka, the most married wardens to ever exist. Antoine is the absolute sweetest man alive, and the only Orlesian allowed ever. Evka is incredibly competent and has everything under control. Their dates end with explosions. Everything is perfect.

Veil Jumper Rook gets Irelin and Strife. Strife is battling Viago for the grumpiest and meanest dad award. Irelin is clearly the golden child and favourite sibling and he makes that clear to Rook.

Lords of Fortune Rook gets Isabela and Rowan, a pirate turned allegedly somewhat ethical treasure hunter and Rivaini seer who regularly convenes with spirits. Neither of them are parents to Rook, they hold the most insane much older cousin energy though.

[loustica-lucia]

DATV — Rook teaching Spite how to play Wicked Grace

"- Spite and I can play cards or something. - Don't say that, I haven't taught him Wicked Grace yet."

(Lucanis Dellamorte, Spite & Alba de Riva/Rook[he/they])

A silly comic that was living rent free in my mind since I got that cutscene💜😈 Silly Alba & Spite bonding time hehe

Timelapse & Sketch:

[lizenzkreuz]

His coffee!!!!!!!!!!

[plasticfreckles]

🪶 dream ossuary rookanis enjoy 🪶

Lucanis wakes with a start, with the unpleasant lightning strike through the body after dreaming of falling.

Only he doesn't find himself back on the raised courtyard between the big statue and the Lighthouse.

Instead, he finds himself back in the frozen, cone-shaped cell, so deep underwater that even the suspiciously clean air feels suffocating. He's so cold even the skin between his asscheeks stands up in goosehives.

Probably because he's naked, save for the shredded fabric that he snatched from the hips of the poor soul in the cell next to his, only moments after she (Nastia, he reminds himself) had succumbed to her starvation and her hunger demon had burst out of her like filling from an overcooked pie.

Not his finest moment, there.

Lucanis rubs his forehead with a sigh.

Of course he's still here. This entire business with blighted gods and archdemons and remote brain-parasites did always seem a tad too absurd to be real.

NO! Spite shrieks. He's circling him like a vulture waiting for its food to die. Gods were real! We killed them. We tore into Ghilan'nain with our teeth! We chased Elgar'nan into Minrathous! Stuck Solas to the Veil for snatching our Rook! OUR ROOK IS REAL. SHE'S SLEEPING, RESTING. IN OUR ARMS. WHERE SHE BELONGS. OUTSIDE YOUR STUPID STUBBORN SPONGEHEAD.

As if she'd walked out of the latest romance serial, took one look at his miserable self and thought I have to have him.

NO REASONING WITH YOU HERE. RESOLVE TO BE MISERABLE. WHEN WE COULD BE FREE. FREE AND - You're surprised? There's a reason you were once Determination, before we joined.

Spite rams his elbow into the back of Lucanis' head, then dissolves into thin air.

Lucanis huffs warm air into his palms, rubs them together for friction and then wraps his hands around his toes.

There's a commotion, somewhere between the space behind his eyes and the back of his head, and he feels as though he's prodded at in another plane of existence.

SEE? Spite pushes at somebody until they kneel down in front of him. ROOK IS REAL. If she were real, she wouldn't be in here with us. She'd be far above the surface, as she should. I WOKE HER. I BROUGHT HER.

Lucanis dreads what his demon might have told her to pull her from her precious rest and into his mind. Again. Judging their trajectory lately, it likely wasn't Help us, he listens to you this time.

"Hi." There's hands on his cheeks now, and whoever it is that Spite conjured up does look exactly like the woman from his escapist dreams. Her eyes are puffy, rimmed in red - has she cried?

"What's wrong?"

Oh, so. Only real if for you to fix? That's what's happening? Shut it. MAKE IT MAKE SENSE. THEN I SHUT IT.

"Spite brought me. He thinks you went back."

Lucanis can't bite back his dry chuckle. When he pointedly looks around, her hands slip from his cheeks, cradling his jaw now.

"Evidently, I did do exactly that."

"Has.. Did something happen today, before we went to sleep, that brought you here?"

"You don't need to do this. I don't need my own subconscious trying to fix me."

Fingers twirl the ends of his hair.

"I've been here before, remember? Spite brought me then, too. He - we - don't want you to feel as though you're stuck in here by yourself."

He doesn't need to tell her he did not willingly walk in here, that sometimes he still just finds himself back in his cell. She knows. She knows intimately, by virtue of caring to know him.

"I shouldn't keep returning here," he manages, eventually. "You broke me out. I'm done with this place. There's nothing left for me, here. Not even death."

When Rook stopped being a figment of his imagination, or when she'd shifted to rock the both of them left to right to left with her cheek by his hairline, he doesn't know.

"Maybe this place isn't done with you."

Letting this, however accurate and plain to see, suggestion sit with him makes him nauseous, like trying to eat after having been hungry all day.

"How do I stop coming back here, Rook?"

Her silence and her hands in his hair, strangely grounding him into the reality of this Fade-dream with the nails on his scalp, are answer enough.

Eventually, she sits back down, cross-legged, takes his hands.

He knows what that means; I have an idea.

Do it! Spite leans over her shoulder, pushing her deeper into her hunched posture with both hands on her back like he was trying to mount a horse from its backside. Rook has good ideas! Rook is smart! She will fix us. Splitting us is not in her repertoire. Breaking us out of here is!

"Well, for this specific instance, there's multiple options of what we can do," she starts. She's barefoot, too, the tops of her feet pushing into his soles. "If you'd rather be alone, I can leave - Spite won't like that, and neither do I, frankly. I don't want to leave you alone here."

She must be real, Lucanis thinks after all. How else would he know the way the space between her brows creases means But your feelings in this matter more than mine?

"But if that's what you need, you shall have it. We could leave this place together, too. Or, we could stay here together. Whichever you want. Whatever you need. If it's for me to give to you, you will have it. I promise."

He looks up from their feet, when her hand settles soft and warm and startingly familiar on his jaw, her thumb through his beard.

"I.. I can't get up."

Rook nods.

"Would you like me to stay?"

"I... If you'd rather leave-"

"I know. That's not what I asked."

Her eyes are wide and soft and endlessly loving.

"Stay. Please. Just a little longer."

"Of course."

It should be intimidating, the way she rises to stand before him, fingers working the cord that holds her dressing gown closed.

Were it anyone other than Rook, he would be, deep down. He'd never display it, of course, but he'd still feel it.

With her, though, he can freely display his - concern. Why is she undressing? In the prison of his brain?

"Rook, no. You're barefoot. We're encased in a cone of ice. You'll be so cold. Don't take off your dressing gown."

But he doesn't fight her, and the soft yellow silk-lined robe drapes warm and comforting over his shoulders.

"I am wearing more than a loincloth. I'll be all right."

Even here, somehow, in this nightmare prison that his mind keeps returning to, it's baffingly easy and natural to settle against her. She willingly offers her warmth to him, shifts with him like that's all she's made to do.

Eventually, he's curled up on his side, covered up to his eyes by the gown, her right hand rubbing his arm through the fabric and the other petting his hair.

As he closes his eyes, there's the start of a giggle in Rook's throat, hastily bitten back and covered with a breath.

"What?"

"Your ears are so small. And round. Small and round and cute."

"Is that.. good?"

"I think so. I tried to picture you with ears like mine and - no. Your ears are perfect like this."

"Thank you?"

Her body curves above him, and her lips press against his forehead. It must be a strain in her neck, how she's curling to meet him with his head in her lap.

But when he attempts to rise, to meet her halfways her hand slips from his arm to his chest and pushes him back down.

So he shifts until all his weight isn't squarely on the joint of his shoulder. Closing his eyes again under her gentle touch and soothing warmth is an easy thing. Even here.

Were he not so confused and tired and therefore sopping up her soul as though the Ossuary turned him into a wet biscuit, he might be a little scared of all that.

"How do you like your eggs?"

"I'm sorry?" He almost can't hear it, his left ear cushioned by her thigh on all sides, Spite trilling happily at her scratching over his scalp in the other.

"When we wake up, I'll make you breakfast, for a change. Something nice and simple."

"You don't have to. I know you don't enjoy cooking."

"I want to, Lucanis. Let me do something for you, just this once." He knows she'll say the exact same thing she resolves to cook for him the next time. And the time after that. And probably for the rest of all time, if she'll have him. "So: how do you like your eggs?"

"Sunny on bread."

Her thigh shifts under him, and her lips press against his right ear.

"Sunny on bread you shall have."

Instead of leaving, however, she settles down beside him, her thigh still cushioning his head, the crown of hers barely in his lap.

"After you wake up. After you have a long, long, well-deserved rest, and wake up in my arms at the Lighthouse. At home."

She says more, but he soon falls away into sleep, when she drapes her dressing gown over him like a blanket once more and reaches for his hand under the fabric.

-

He wakes again, before her, this time, though his face no longer lies squared in her lap.

There's no blanket covering him - it must be somewhere near the end of the bed - but Rook's body against his back is enough to to warm him through an entire Age of winter.

Her fingers are hooked into the seam of his pants, her breath warm on the back of his neck.

Sunlight filters through the massive fishtank, into the hidden corner where their bed sits.

A marvel, that. Their bed. For her and him.

See? Real. All of it. You're right. And thank the Maker for that.

A bare legs hooks over his hip.

Lucanis closes his eyes again.

🪶

directly influenced by this post by @lunammoon <3

@lanafofana this may be of interest to you

@manhattenstops p e r c e i v e

[~rina]

[flowersforthemachines]

Rook Joins the Book Club - Mod

As one of the many people sad that Rook wasn't included in the Book Club, I set out to fix it by editing the codex entries in the game :)

There are 6 versions of the mod available, one for each faction. Here is a showcase of the Warden version:

The rest of the entries can be found under the cut.

Crow Rook:

Lord of Fortune Rook:

Shadow Dragon Rook:

Veil Jumper Rook:

Mourn Watcher Rook (typo in the word "possession" is fixed in the latest version of the mod):

[rookinthecrownest]

utilizing my remaining brainpower for the evening to imagine how much of a beast a mage-class (spellblade subclass) De Riva Rook could be.

Imagine an assassin who could genuinely turn invisible. Who could put sound-proof glyphs on walls. Who could turn into a fly or a rat and get into a locked room, assassinate someone, then turn back into an animal and get out the same way without anyone knowing or seeing.

inspiring, tbh

[selunesdreams]

sharing this stunning Rook de Riva x Lucanis commission (based on my ongoing fic Eating Crow) by @mooreaux!

[bisexualmultifandommess]

It’s funny to me to imagine that the team were so stressed trying to locate Rook in the fade that they forgot to tell Viago about the whole situation and Rook is sat a couple of hours after he gets back and just goes “man I can’t imagine how Viago must be feeling”

Cue the whole team freezing and turning to Rook in simultaneous horror while Rook stares back like “what??.”

He’s then completely baffled that they forgot to tell his dad that he’d gone missing.

[feaches]

it's what I love about you

[bargu]

"Ours."

Dragon Age: Veilguard and Lucanis Dellamorte are living rent free in my brain. I somehow also love the idea of possessive Spite.

I've heard that people doesn't like when there is so much purple in the Veilguard so I made this extra purple just for you xD No spite (heh), I love y'all!

Art made by Barguest, do not copy or repost thank you!

[raoneven]

~ how does his touch feel like? ~

Full

[itsrainingpandas]

Ever since @vonspe released the NPC version of her OC Scipio, I have had a brain worm with him and my dummy gremlin Crow!Rook. So I wrote a thing!

Scipio belongs to Vonspe , I just admire her art and her drawings have given me joy in these here trying times. Hopefully I can return the favor in a small way. ❤️

Pick Your Poison

She was silent, creeping up on him, crouched with a dagger in her hand. He had his back to her and was none the wiser to the danger. Closer, closer, and then…with a fierce grin, Rook lunged for him.

She landed with the hilt of her blade at the small of his back, snickering. “Oh, Scipio,” she tsked, “You’ve gotten soft! You really should pay attention. You're dead now!”

A chuckle rumbled through him as he turned to peer over his shoulder, looking thoroughly unsurprised. “Am I?” 

Rook looked down. Scipio had shifted his arm behind his back in the split second before she had lunged, gripping a needle in his gloved hand. It was pressed against her leathers, and were this a serious scenario, it could slide past her armor and fill her with poison before she got a good stab in. 

Upon seeing this, Rook burst out laughing. “Oh, no! I’m dead!” She stepped back and resheathed her mageknife, delighted to be bested at her own game. “Oh, you got me. This is so tragic. You'll have to break the news to my many admirers.”

Scipio smirked, pleased with himself even before he said, “I'll be sure to let them both know.”

Rook made a face and moved as though she were going to punch his kidneys. He simply swayed out of her way, unperturbed, before regarding her with amusement. Her childish petulance melted as she grinned, looking back and forth between his eyes. They were striking in their color difference- one so dark it was almost black, one staggeringly blue. He seemed to give in to the fondness, poking at her playfully. “And what brings our Rook to this level of the Diamond today?” 

Rook leaned back against the counter that served as a place to get both drinks and poisons, and hopefully never the wrong one of the two. “I'm looking for a specific poison. Or– a friend of mine is looking for it. A poison.”

Scipio’s eyebrow arched in interest. “Anything fun?”

“No. It's the opposite of fun. Academic things.” Rook’s nose crinkled in distaste. She was never a good student, so she couldn't imagine how or why someone could keep researching past the required schooling. Scipio chuckled as if he could see her thoughts; he had known her as a fledgling, so he wouldn't be surprised by her disdain.

“And this poison,” he continued, rolling up his sleeves and tightening the ribbon keeping his long, dark hair back, “Viago didn't want to do it?”

“Between you and me, he's better at antidotes. Mixing poisons is more your specialty.” Her eyes narrowed in an attempt to look dangerous that was not enough to offset her small stature and full head of bright red curls. “But if you tell him I said that, I’ll deny it and put one of your snakes in your boot.” 

“I’m beginning to think you just came here to threaten me.” 

“Me? Never,” Rook hoisted herself up to sit on the counter, pretending not to notice Scipio’s vaguely disapproving look. She spread her arms wide. “Come on, I wanted to see you! I missed you! Didn't you miss me, Tío?” 

He watched her a moment, and she noticed how tired he looked. Though, to be fair, Scipio always looked tired. After careful consideration, he shook his head and chuckled. “Oh, I suppose it is fun to hear Viago yelling again.” Rook laughed, the opposite of his laugh, loud and attention-drawing. 

"Now," Scipio began placing dubiously unmarked vials on the counter, “what poison is your friend looking for?”

Rook blinked as though she had never thought to ask. “I dunno.” She leaned back on the counter to the point where she could have easily rolled backwards off of it and landed on her head. She scanned the room, but it wasn't hard to spot the odd one out in the sea of Crows.  Rook gave a grand, sweeping wave over her head. “Emmrich! Over here!”

The professor appeared moments later, appearing harried by his standards and remarkably put together by anyone else’s. “Apologies, Rook,” he said sweetly, politely, “Manfred is quite fascinated by this place, so I was keeping an eye on him. I had to stop him from chasing one of the crows around…” he gestured to the birds roosted in the ceiling, who indeed seemed to be watching with some perturbation. Rook snickered at the mental picture before composing herself enough for introductions.

She held a hand out towards Emmrich in presentation. “Scipio, this is Professor Emmrich Volkarin. Emmrich,” Rook turned enough to loop an arm around Scipio’s neck, “this is my Tío Scipio.”

Emmrich smiled, brushing a hand back to smooth his hair which was hardly out of place. “Apologies, again. It's a pleasure to meet you, ah…” his eyes darted towards Rook, unsure, “I'm sorry, could you repeat…?”

“Scipio,” the man finished, bowing slightly at the waist. “A pleasure, professore.” 

Rook hopped down from the counter. “What, he can't call you ‘Tío’?”

Scipio kept his eyes on Emmrich as he dropped his hand on top of Rook’s head. “You are on babysitting duty today, I see?”

She grumbled and pushed his arm away. Emmrich pressed a crooked finger to his mouth in an attempt to disguise an amused smile that did not help her mood. “I don't need babysitting!” Rook snapped. “You know, I make a lot of the decisions for our group.”

“That is true,” Emmrich offered amicably, his gaze shifting the significant height difference between the two Crows. 

“Hmmm,” Scipio considered the information before asking Rook, “So why do you come back here and act like a fledgling?”

Emmrich let out a sound of surprise before leaning on the counter, eyes bright with excitement. “I have noticed that she tends to regress when we come to Treviso! It's very interesting,” he pressed his thumb to his bottom lip, “I wonder if it's a response to childhood stressors. Perhaps–” 

“Emmrich!” Rook whined, betrayed. She would have stomped her foot if the idea of “regression” hadn't taken hold on her mind. But the professor received the complaint and stopped his analysis, mumbling apologies while at least having the decency to look sheepish. 

Scipio, however, had no such scruples. He tilted his chin down, conspiring.“If you do take notes, I’d be happy to review them. I always appreciate new material.”

Emmrich chuckled warmly, much too charmed for Rook’s taste. She groaned as she pinched the bridge of her nose. “I regret introducing you two,” she pouted. "Immediately regret it.”

They were now ignoring her completely, it seemed, exclusively focused on each other. “So, professore,” Scipio smiled faintly, “what poison are you looking for?”

“Ah, yes,” he startled as though he had forgotten why he had come, “I was hoping for concentrated magebane. You see, I want to test its effect on bone–”

“It won't corrode it, if that's what you're hoping for.”

“No!” Emmrich looked appalled by the very idea. “No, it was a thought I had. You see, if it could mark the deceased, then it might deter any necromancers who wander too far afield. Necromancy is a distinguished art, of course, but some do not wish to worry about their deceased. If those bodies could marked as unusable–” 

Rook sighed noisily. “All right, well, if you don't need me…” 

Emmrich didn't even pause, continuing to excitedly explain his theories to a thoughtfully listening Scipio. That was her answer, she supposed. 

Rook wandered around until she found Manfred, who was still peering up at the roosting crows in fascination. She wrapped an arm around the boney cut of his shoulders with a sigh. “I think I accidentally set your dad up on a date,” she murmured to the skeleton. Manfred let out a cheerful, gurgling hiss, though she suspected he had no idea what she was going on about. Well, nothing to do about it. Might as well take advantage of having lost her “babysitter.”

“All right, Manfred,” Rook clapped her hands together, “I'll teach you about the birds up there. But first: we’re going to work on you saying the word ‘shit.’”

Manfred squealed cheerfully once more. Just a fun little surprise for Emmrich later as revenge for the regression idea that would do nothing but prove his point.  

[loustica-lucia]

DATV — It's getting hot in there…

There's no way Spite didn't play with the candles in his room at least once (especially since he already wants to eat them🕯️)

Not that my Rook minds the view…👁️

Lucanis Dellamorte, Spite & Alba de Riva/Rook[he/they]

[ximmortalis]

Emmrich Volkarin/Rook: Confession.

Summary:

Rook harbours a secret keeps it hidden under lock and key in her mind; the secret of the dark figure that forced her down to her knees.

With a blossoming relationship with Emmrich; Rook lies and finds herself burning with the need to confess.

Warnings: Mentions of past assault/non-con, suicidal thoughts.

A/N: Second part in the works.

Joints in her fingers cracking as she wrings her hands over and over, breathing slow and deep an attempt to starve off the panic building in her chest. Rook should be happy; she is ecstatically so. She’d just returned from a romantic evening with Emmrich in the Necropolis, sharing an exquisite meal fit for royalty. Rook had confessed that she had never been with someone romantically that he was her first. Emmrich for a moment looked taken a back but a gentle smile followed, he told her they could go as slowly as she liked, there was no need to rush. His acceptance made her giddy and a short walk around the gardens ended with a sweet kiss.

She should be on cloud nine, but she finds herself in her room feeling guilty.

When she told Emmrich that she’d never been with someone romantically it was the truth. Never been on a date, never been wined and dined or handled in such a gentle way like a cherished object. Soft touches are a rarity in life for a Crow; Rook is used to the harshness that comes with it.

Rook harbours a secret keeps it hidden under lock and key in her mind; the secret of the dark figure that forced her down to her knees and stole her purity, ripped her insides with sadistic glee and left her on the cold wet floor, broken. She had no idea how long she’d laid there alone and afraid unsure if her attacker would return.

Viago was waiting for her for the intel she had been sent out to gather, a fledgling at the time her training had begun only a year ago, only recently being sent out on actual assignments. Viago was furious when she finally turned up, he was relentless with his verbal assault and Rook had stood there and took it. She couldn’t tell him; the embarrassment was too much. It was shameful that a crow had let someone sneak up on them, it was her job to become one with the shadows; to remain undetected and she couldn’t even do that. It was enough to have her crow status stripped and kicked out of House De Riva. If Viago was paying more attention he’d see the angry red marks that littered her body, fingertip shaped marks around her throat and the welts around her wrists where she’d been held with a punishing grip. Rook said nothing when he asked for an explanation, infuriated by her lack of response he turned around and dismissed her. He spared her not even a glance but if he did, he wouldn’t have missed the limp in her step and the crimson stain blooming on her pants.

Waiting for the dead of the night to sneak her way to the bath house, letting out a breath when she found it empty. It’s a slow process stripping out of her clothes. When she pulls her underwear down, they’re stained with her blood and the stranger’s seed. She isn’t stupid, Rook knows the consequences that can come of this. Her stomach lurches violently as she throws up the contents of her stomach and she doesn’t stop until her lungs burn and ribs ache from dry heaving. Rook scrubbed her body raw until her arms ached, and the water scorched her skin. No matter how much soap and scented oils she used, the smell of him wouldn’t leave it was cemented in the pores of her skin.

Mind numb she sits in the water until it turns frigid.

In the morning, she goes to the apothecary, hood pulled over her head as far as it can go to conceal her identity. Face burning with embarrassment as she explains to the woman at the counter that she needs something that will stop conception. Without judgement the woman pulls out a potion of Silphium, explains the potential side effects and hands it to her. Drinking it all in one go she cringes at the bitter after taste and now she had to wait to see if it worked.

Throwing herself into training, Viago is keeping a close eye on her. She keeps a low profile, not wanting to draw any unnecessary attention. It works Viago slowly stops breathing down her neck and it seems that everything starts going back to normality.

That’s until a furious Viago bursts into her room.

“Want to tell me what happened that night?”

Time halts.

He knows, he knows, he knows!

‘’Nothing.’’ It’s a weak denial and she knows it and with the look on Viago’s face he doesn’t believe her.

‘’So, the trip to the apothecary and the Silphium was nothing?’’ His head cocking to the side, ‘’What? You didn’t think I’d investigate this?’’

Again, when she doesn’t answer it pushes Viago over the edge and she finds herself at the receiving end of another verbal assault. He couldn’t believe that she had jeopardised a whole operation for a quick fuck, asking if she was proud of herself. Once again, she sits and takes it, she already blamed herself for what took place; why not accept his blame as well?

 ‘’This stays between us; I’m not doing this for you.’’ He spits before taking a moment to catch his breath. He turns on his heel to leave but not before twisting the knife in her already shattered heart.

‘’You bring shame on House De Riva.’’

She feels numb again, out of tune with her emotions; she feels nothing but absolute emptiness. It’s strange, she thinks; there hasn’t been a single tear shed. Disconnected from her mind and body, she feels like an outsider looking in. Her body doesn’t feel like hers anymore, it feels dirty.

Desecrated.  

It’s clear that this event is what starts her downfall, when she does finally become a full fledged Crow. Her risk taking behaviours increase, the contracts she takes are dangerous; ones that she couldn’t possibly survive. She’s not careful about them either but yet she seems to pull through each time. The relationship between her and Viago deteriorates and it was common place to find them exchanging verbal blows.

Viago thinks she has a death wish.

It’s not a wish, it’s a promise.

She wants to die; doing what she’s worked so hard for, then maybe she can claim some of her lost honour back.

It’s funny how her last death charge is what saves her, a patrol of Antaam herding captives. She didn’t even think, just leaped into action. She saved lives that day but the disappointment that she didn’t meet her bitter end was palpable. Unknowingly she had compromised a larger Crow operation. Her superiors were incensed and punished her accordingly. She’s sidelined and forced out of Antiva.

On the road she meets one of the captives she saved. Varric, the man who undoubtably saved her life.

Rook shakes her head a feeble attempt to push back the memories, it was years ago; it shouldn’t affect her as much as it did. Rook had spend many years lying to herself, shying away from relationships; starving herself of the loving touch of another. She was far to damaged no matter how good of a facade she put on, it wouldn’t be long before the cracks of her broken psyche would start to show.

If she stayed alone no one could take the opportunity to harm her again.

But, Emmrich appeared.

And he turned her world upside down.

Older, distinguished with an air of authority – a senior Mourn watcher.

A professor she expected for him to be harsh and critical of almost everything. Instead, he was softly spoken, gentle and his presence kept her calm. He respected her; not because he had to but because he wanted to. He indulged her when she had questions about his work, his patience unmatched. Rook would watch how he interacted with Manfred. Emmrich is an incredibly powerful necromancer, it would have been very easy for him to treat the spirit of curiosity as nothing more than an object to do his bidding. Instead, he treated the spirit as if he was human, teaching and nurturing him as a father would his own child.

It was safe to be around him, and it didn’t take long for her to fall head over heels for him.

Their relationship new and blossoming and she was already building the foundation on a lie. How would he react if he found out that she hadn’t told him the truth? But, what would he think when she told him what happened? It made her nauseous thinking about it.

She needs to confess.

No matter how painful it might be, no matter if he walks away from her. He deserves to learn of her failings – her sins.

Outside the door to his room her hand outstretched to knock, hovering in the air. She pauses, there is no going back after this and with a deep breath she knocks. A muffled permission to enter comes from within and she follows the voice inside. Emmrich is sat at his desk, the flicker of candlelight casts a hue against his features, he looks handsome in such lighting. He glances up and his face fills with warmth when he looks at her, but it quickly shifts to a look of concern. Emmrich stands and makes his way towards her, resting his palm against her forehead.

‘’My dear you look unwell, it wasn’t the food was it?’’

Savouring the warmth of his hands for a brief moment, looking up at him; the deep look of worry in his eyes almost brings her to tears. She converts this moment to a memory she will hold dear. Sensing her distress Emmrich cradles her face in his hands; hers come up to wrap gently around his wrists.

‘’My darling girl, what ever is the matter?’’

He guides them over to the couch and Rook sits with her legs crossed, her hands once again held tightly together. “I need to tell you something,” She looks down at her clenched hands knuckles turning white, “But I’m afraid you’ll not look at me in the same light.”

The air in the room changes as Emmrich senses the seriousness of the conversation. His hand slides over hers gently prying them apart, he keeps it there; lets her trace her fingers over the rings. He waits patiently, watching her facial expressions, the pinch of her brow, how her eyes dart back and forth, her mouth opening before closing again.

“When I said I’d never been with anyone, I wasn’t entirely telling the truth.”

Emmrich lets out a breath, almost wanting to chuckle at how his little darling had worked herself up over something so trivial. The relief he feels is short lived as the next words out of her mouth steals the air from his lungs.

“Years ago, I was doing recon on a target.” She begins, “I was in an alley keeping an eye out, when I was grabbed from behind.”

Like the flooded canals of Treviso, the words pour from her mouth an overflow of a long-kept secret. She spares no details. The fact that she hadn’t fought back and allowed him to do what he did. How she bled for days after, spent weeks worrying about being possibly pregnant and the relief when she wasn’t. Viago’s fury and sheer disappointment, how he had reduced her to a common whore. The deep shame and embarrassment. How she had sought death around every corner. Words coming out chocked as she tries to breath, she doesn’t realise she’s crying until she is pulled into Emmrich’s arms, he gently shushes her.

The lock on her emotions ruptures and she wails; loud and anguished.

It was gut wrenching to see her like this, all he could do was embrace her and let the torrent of tears soak his shirt. Her hands clutching at him as she near suffocates with each breath. He holds her tighter as his body shakes from the force of her sobs, his hand holding the back of her head, he tries to ground her, and he can’t help that a few of his own tears escape.  

She lets the tears fall, each one washing away a little bit of the pain she’d been holding onto all these years. Grieving for the person she used to be, before that monster had stolen her away.

‘’It’s my fault,’’ It comes out as a harsh croak, ‘’If I had – ‘’

‘’No,’’ Emmrich interrupts he coaxes her to look at him once again his hands cradle her face, pushing the hair out of her face. ‘’It is not your fault.’’

Rook tries to shake out of his hold, but he doesn’t let her.

‘’The blame is not yours to carry my love, that sorry excuse of a man had no right to put his hands on you.’’

As her sobs subsided, she was left with a lingering headache and a rawness in her throat. But amidst the physical discomfort, she felt a strange sense of relief, felt a lightness she hadn’t felt in a long time.

Emmrich takes care when putting Rook back together, her emotions like an open nerve;  he doesn’t stray too far from her side; leaving for a moment to make tea; making it to her liking and adding a spoonful of honey to ease the soreness of her throat, he brings a bowl of warm water and a flannel. Softly he cleans her face, wiping away the snot and tears. She curls up in his lap once again and they sit in a comfortable silence, the only sound to be heard comes from her sipping the tea.

He can’t help the bubble of anger that simmers within; he’s never been a man of violence, but he prays to never come across the man that cause her suffering.

‘’I’ve never told anyone before,’’ She delicately speaks not wanted to disrupt the soothing calm around them, ‘’I never wanted to let people see me so broken.’’

Emmrich places a kiss on the crown of her head his lips lingering there, ‘’You are not broken dearest, bruised, yes. But, not broken.’’

She looks up at him, eyes reddened and puffy from tears; still even like this she is the most beautiful woman he’s laid his eyes on. He can’t fathom how he managed to get her attention, but he doesn’t question it in the slightest.

‘’Indomitable is how I see you, unpredictable in the best of ways and most importantly of all; a survivor.’’

Survivor.

She’d never seen herself like that, frankly she hadn’t seen herself in years; now it’s time to let go of all the guilt she’d carried. To break down the walls and soothe the frightened girl that still lives within, to let go of the crushing guilt, show her the kindness that the world can offer, to feel the love of another.

‘’I feel safe with you.’’

A warmth blooms in Emmrich’s heart; this was more than a confession of love, she had come to him unknowing how this would go, gone against her judgement to remain silent. Shown him the parts of her that she had longed to keep hidden, she had put her trust in him, opened herself up to the potential of more judgement and disappoint. He knows that the events of that night will never fully leave, their will be times that she remembers, and the fear will come back, and she’ll fall.

She’ll never be alone as he will catch her every time.

‘’You’ll be safe with me always, my love.’’