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scuttlingcrab · 15 days ago

Note

BoneDaddy prompt because I’m also suffering the brain rot!! Emmrich tending to a nasty slice on rooks ribs, tender kisses and then… well, who can say where it leads. But, you know. Nothing cures wounds like tender breathless make outs and orgasms, as they say.

Thank you so much for this prompt @keepingupwiththekardamomme! I took a few liberties with this one, hoping to save some of the smutty stuff for a later post, but this includes lots of sexual tension and wound tending after a near death battle with darkspawn. Just another day for the Veilguard. I hope you enjoy and please send me more!

(Also this was heavily inspired by this amazing post by @sailorsatina!)

Summary: Emmrich and Rook are fighting for their lives in the Hossberg Wetlands, barely escaping a sea of darkspawn. After saving Rook from the brink of death, they share an intimate moment discussing some of Rook's past scars and perhaps what the future may hold for them both.

Notes: A continuation of the last story, the Perfect Teacher.

You can find it on AO3 too.

BTW! I'm open to receiving any/all prompts on Emmrich, so please send away! xx

Old Wounds

(Image via oni-ino)

First came the explosions, the blistering blight erupting, the ground quaking from the deafening thunder of a horde of darkspawn emerging from pools of corruption. With them arrived the screams, the chaos, and the abject terror.

Emmrich Volkarin was haunted by the shrieks, the hair on his arms standing tall. If he had known any better, he would’ve listened to that sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, the one that was clawing at him from the inside, warning him to take flight. Flee you imbecile! Get as far away from that wretched growth as possible! Run or you’ll die here, you’ll die, is that what you desire? RUN!

He was accustomed to his fair share of horrors during his tenure in the Mourn Watch, most of which precipitated from the transgressions of mortalkind. Even so, nothing could have prepared him for the atrocities that were Ghilan'nain’s creations.

These animated sacks of flesh, haphazardly thrown together from a hodgepodge of heads and torsos and limbs, were ghastly abominations. It left a sour taste in Emmrich’s mouth at the notion of how they came to be, the lack of respect for each vessel that once harvested souls of the living - it went against everything he stood for as a necromancer. And yet, there was nothing he could do to help these creatures but obliterate them. Over and over and over again. Stuck in this perpetual state of fear, of helplessness.

These darkspawn had an uncanny intelligence, going far beyond being mere puppets of Ghilan'nain. When Emmrich got too close, fighting toe-to-toe, more times than he’d like to admit in the recent days; their deep-set eyes, glazed over yet frenzied, glowered at him. As if they were searching his very essence for something to claim, to infect, to turn him into one of their own. Some of them knew how to counter his attacks, to dodge his necrotic spells. They were learning, adapting, at an alarming rate. And they’d do anything to rip him apart. Emmrich gulped, an ache in the back of his throat as he tried to soothe these blasted nerves.

Rook, Davrin, and Emmrich were in the Hossberg Wetlands, sent out by the Grey Wardens to investigate some recent disturbances in the area. They had followed a trail of blighted roots to a cliffside, discovering a massive boil sitting in the centre of some ruins. It pulsed irregularly like a festering wound, the rotten stench making it increasingly difficult for Emmrich to keep his breakfast down. As soon as they approached it, the air changed, growing heavier as darkspawn sprouted into existence, more boils forming around it. The group were separated instantly in an attempt to eradicate the increasing number, to keep the blight at bay.

Rook and Davrin were at opposite sides of the ruins as they continued to repel their own swarms. Emmrich couldn’t tell if their work had any impact at all on the blight, how long they had been fighting for, or if they were about to be overtaken … swallowed whole by the corruption…. He had never seen so many darkspawn in one place, and they were all charging towards him. Him! A professor with no inclination of battle tactics, whose only proper tussle was once punching a fellow colleague, twice,for accusing him of plagiarism. And he would’ve punched him thrice more if given the chance…

With each burst of necrotic energy, Emmrich’s limbs grew heavier, his fingers twitching in an effort to keep his staff held high. Behind, to the right, up above, and back behind, to the left, the right, the left ! Everywhere! His pulse raced, the sound of his heartbeat thrashed in his ears, drowning out the howls of the darkspawn. No rest, no moment to breathe. Go. Move. Dodge. Back! He knew he was exerting himself too fast, his mana depleting quicker than a sinking boat without a hull - but it was impossible to do otherwise if he wanted to survive.

The darkspawn pushed in closer, manically swinging their weapons, ripping off parts of themselves to throw at Emmrich like spears. He took a step forward, his foot wobbling as a rush of wind slapped his cheeks, barely ducking in time to miss another clawed attack. One more step to the side and he was teetering, spots of black peppering his vision.

“Assan, NOW!” Davrin boomed, his voice cutting through the bedlam.

Assan shrieked in response, the griffon diving from above and scorching the earth in front of Emmrich, incinerating the darkspawn that had been breathing down his neck. He fell to his knees, panting, cold sweat building at the crook of his neck, as he stared at the blackened ground in front of him.

Oh thank the…

The ground vibrated again. Thump. Thump. Thump! Each tremor made its way through Emmrich’s fingers as he gripped the dirt, travelling to the very tip of his skull, his teeth rattling. Thump. Thump. Thump!

By the time Emmrich could pull his head up, the dread was already pooling in his chest, his body locking in response. An ogre bolted in his direction, parting the darkspawn that remained with each stride as it picked up momentum.

Was it Rook’s shouting or the guttural howls of the ogre that came first? Emmrich couldn’t recall. He inhaled sharply, bracing himself for the incoming blow.

Rook slid in front of Emmrich just as the ogre’s club swung at him. She released a pulsing surge of magic to shield the attack, a purple orb hugging them both. Its club met the shield, and it somehow held, ripples from its impact coursing through the mana.

Swipe, after swipe, after swipe. The ogre was relentless. It hammered down on them, each blow weakening the shield, leaving it closer to splintering. Rook tensed, gritting her teeth as she concentrated on keeping it together. Emmrich squeezed Rook’s shoulder, hoping to pass along any energy he had left…

From the corner of his eye, he spotted a small crack forming underneath the ogre. It grew, quickly travelling to the edge of the cliff. More fissures formed, each one bigger than the last, until the ground crumbled. Emmrich didn’t have time to gasp, to scream, let alone think of any last regrets, before the earth fell away. The ogre disappeared into the darkness below them, Rook slipping from his grasp as they both joined it… falling…. falling… falling…

---

“Emmrich. EMMRICH!”

Emmrich’s lungs burned as he gasped for air, liquid spewing from his mouth. His eyes shot open, blurry, stinging. He pulled at his armour, struggling to free himself from the confines of his clothing. Too much! The fabric felt foreign against his skin, weighing him down, the pressure mounting, mounting, mounting!

The world soon came back into focus and his breathing once again slowed. A shadow loomed over him, their shape, their features becoming more distinct with each inhale, each exhale… It was Rook. Rook. She knelt beside him, one hand pressed against his chest, the other cradling his head.

“Thank fuck.” She blurted, staggering to her feet.

Emmrich rose, leaning on his elbows, coughing up any remaining fluids. Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in… It was wet. Everything was… clammy. Why was he drenched? He blinked again, looking down at his hands. They were submerged in shallow murky water, along with the rest of his body. He was sitting in a pool of it, one of the countless marshes in the Hossberg Wetlands.

“I… Rook, I’m in your debt.”

“You can thank me later, Emmrich. We’re not out of this yet.” Rook extended her right hand, eyes fraught as she scanned their surroundings. “Can you get up?”

He paused, eyebrow raised in question before grabbing hold of her hand. In one swift motion, she hoisted him to his feet. Emmrich reeled slightly as he found his bearings. Rook grimaced at the movement, clutching both fists as she turned, preparing to march the opposite way.

“It seems so, yes. But are you alright? Let me–”

“We need to go. More are coming.”

“More?”

As if on cue, high pitched screeches came from behind them. Emmrich jerked his head back, eyes widening as the recollections of the past few hours resurfaced, jolting his memory of the severity of their predicament, the consequences if they failed, the darkspawn…

The cliff where they had fallen from was ablaze, the fire roaring, devouring the blight as the flames licked high into the sky. A flood of darkspawn ran down the precipice, falling on top of each other as they fled, giving the illusion that the mound was increasing in size. Assan circled above, every so often diving at the waves of darkspawn and calling out to his master.

“Davrin…” Emmrich began, “Is he…”

“Alive. Yes. He’s finishing the job. He’ll be able to find us when it’s safe… I hope.”

Emmrich nodded, there was no time to doubt. The sounds of the approaching darkspawn grew louder with every second wasted and Emmrich loathed the thought of having to fight any more in his state. They started running, sloshing through the marshes. His bones ached, a stabbing pain spreading from his ribs, worsening with each stomp. He kept his eyes on Rook as they continued, her movements stiff, posture slouched, dissimilar from her usual gait. She was wounded, but he couldn’t discern the severeness, not while they were still in danger.

Everything around them blended into one as they ventured deeper into unfamiliar territory. One decaying tree after another, passing identical ruins, and bog after bog after bog… it was growing increasingly difficult for Emmrich to make sense of their surroundings. Any signs of the darkspawn that had been chasing them vanished however, silence enveloping them save for their own ragged breaths, as it all became a distant thought. A nightmare.

“Do you have any idea where we’re going?” Emmrich asked eventually.

Rook didn’t respond. Strange. She was always so quick to retort in that humorous way of hers, and since their impromptu dance a few nights back, she had offered him more banter than usual, riddled with innuendos; an added layer compared to how she spoke to the other companions. Instead Rook swayed, clutching her right side as her movements slowed. She stumbled, falling onto the closest tree to keep her upright.

“Rook!”

She raised her hand in protest, shaking away any kind of help from Emmrich as he approached.

“I’m fine. I…need, I know how…”

Rook slumped forward and Emmrich caught her before she fell to the ground. He helped her back to her feet, breath catching at her disposition. Rook’s face was pallid, lips tight. She winced with each gulp of air, her eyes flickering as she struggled to keep them open. Her short plum coloured hair was knotted around her forehead, now near burgundy from the blood and dirt that caked it.

“Have to… can’t…if we…”

Rook pulled herself out of Emmrich’s arms in an attempt to walk on her own volition. She immediately keeled over, crumpling into herself as she cried out in pain.

“No more heroics, please.” Emmrich whispered, carefully picking her back up. “We must seek refuge, it will give me an opportunity to tend to your wounds.”

Rook looked up at Emmrich, head lolling, eyes glassy as she laughed at his words.

“Oh do be serious, Rook. You’re–”

An eerie, primal howl filled the air, unlike any of the other sounds that came from the darkspawn he had encountered so far. He instinctively held Rook closer, not wanting to let her go, as his mind theorised a thousand variations of monsters, ghouls, or other atrocities that were likely coming in his direction.

“Run…” Rook whispered.

“I… yes. We run! Of course. Hold on, Rook.”

Emmrich cleared his throat, taking a deep breath as he steadied his core. He lifted Rook, carrying her in his arms as he darted forward. It was sloppy but they were moving, as fast as he could manage. The pain in his chest was unbearable, the world around him uneven.

“You need to h…”

“Hush.” He responded, out of breath, “save your energy.”

Emmrich rushed towards an approaching rock face, nearly slipping when his boots met the muddy rocks. His eyes searched for any sign of cover, a hide-out, a cave, or possibly… Yes! A cabin! A small dilapidated cabin sat atop a small hill, nestled against the base of another crag. It wasn’t perfect, but it would do. He sprinted towards the structure, and within a matter of seconds was inside it. The cabin was small and most importantly, vacant - of mortals and monsters. A single bed sat against the far wall, with a tiny stove and kitchen near the door.

He delicately placed Rook down on the bed before barricading the door behind him, finding whatever furniture and abandoned items he could to shove against the entrance. Much good that would do, really, with an enormous hole in the ceiling and a single gust of wind likely to knock down the entire structure… but it gave him peace of mind.

A long moment passed, Emmrich waiting on bated breath for another noise, for something to burst through the door… but it was silent. Emmrich leaned against the wall, letting out a long pained sigh as he rubbed the bridge of his nose. His chest throbbed, he could feel his sides swelling. Likely a broken rib, or two.

“Where…” Rook whimpered, her words barely audible, but Emmrich spun around, rushing towards her.

“I’m here. We’re safe. We’re safe. For now.”

Rook’s eyes were closed, but she smiled faintly. Her skin was paler than Emmrich would’ve liked to see on someone who was still living. She was shivering, sweat collecting on her forehead. He placed his hand on her cheek and recoiled.

“You’re boiling, Rook. This is… far worse than I thought. I will need to act fast. Do you trust me?”

She only groaned in response, eyes still shut.

“I will take that as a yes. Now brace yourself Rook, and my sincere apologies for any pain this may cause.”

Emmrich lightly rearranged Rook’s body so she was lying straight on the bed. He searched her person until he found a standard dagger, unsheathing it.

“I’m going to take off your armour, which may cause some discomfort.”

Emmrich used the dagger to slice through Rook’s leathers. He peeled away the first two layers of protection, and what garments remained underneath were drenched in blood. He cut the tunic in two until her top half was bare before him. Rook writhed in pain with every slight movement, digging her nails into the bed as he worked.

“Oh, my dear Rook…” Emmrich shook his head as he discovered a gaping wound on her side, spanning from her underarm to the middle of her ribcage. “I am not the strongest healer, but rest assured, I will do my best.”

Emmrich hovered his hand above the wound. He moved his fingers in slow circles as if he was stirring a cup of tea. He closed his eyes, searching deep within himself for an ounce of mana left, anything that he can use, hoping, praying to whoever might be listening, that there was some power not expended.

His fingertips glowed as flows of green magic poured into Rook’s side, the wound gradually closing, turning into a long raised scar as the skin reformed. Without notice, Emmrich’s focus faltered, cutting him off from the source. He collapsed on his knees, clinging to the bed.

Rook opened her eyes, colour steadily returning to her cheeks as the remnants of his mana coursed through her body. She turned to him, brows furrowed in concern.

“Emmrich…”

“It seems I’ve… I’ve exhausted myself. I did what I could, but you must rest.”

“You’re mad. You should’ve sorted your injuries first.”

“Nonsense. Mine are inconsequential.” Emmrich lifted himself so he was now sitting on the corner of the bed, running his hands through his hair to regain any semblance of balance. “It's been... decades since I've healed a wound with that intensity. I’m afraid I might’ve left a scar.”

He glanced at her side, his cheeks burning at the realisation her upper body was still exposed.

“Oh, how dreadfully rude of me, here…”

Emmrich quickly gathered some of the discarded bedsheets and handed them to Rook, bowing his head in an apology.

“It’s OK.” Rook murmured, slowly sitting up. She took the sheets from Emmrich, loosely covering the front of her chest. She flinched, her side still tender, as she looked down at the freshly healed wound.

“I don’t mind. The uh, scars, I mean.”

“It will make quite the addition to your collection.”

“Oh, yeah. Hard not to notice them all, I guess. I’ve got so many.”

“I find them beautiful, Rook. Our flaws hold such unique truths. Stories of victories, resilience, pain, redemption. Even the most minute blemish can tell us so much about how a person lived.”

Rook smiled, placing a hand on his forearm.

“Usually I get annoyed with fancy talk, but there’s something about you that… I just… well, I could listen to you yap all day about scars, or anything else for that matter.”

“Ah, speaking of which, may I inspect the wound, there’s something I–”

Rook’s words, although they weren’t as scandalous as some of the previous things she’s whispered in passing, hit him like a boulder. He paused, back straightening as he looked at her. Her smile had grown, cheeks flushed. He tilted his head in hesitation, checking her eyes on the off chance she had also obtained a head injury.

Emmrich cleared his throat, his mouth was dry. Again. An annoyance, truly, as he found this a constant side effect whenever he was alone in her presence.

“Your wound, Rook. May I?” He gestured to her side.

Rook nodded.

Emmrich ran his fingers over the scar, ensuring there were no mishaps, no chance of it ever reopening. He hummed in approval, quite satisfied with his work, despite the shoddy circumstances. And yet, when he was done, his fingers lingered on Rook’s skin. He couldn’t bring himself to remove them, instead he slid his digits down her side, tracing them along every scar he could find.

“Your scars…” Emmrich whispered, “may I see more?”

Rook shivered under Emmrich’s touch, but she turned her back towards him, showcasing the vast expanse of scars and blemishes that covered her muscular frame. Emmrich suppressed a gasp, his fingers trembling as they followed the different shapes and textures, leading down to her tailbone.

“How exquisite…” he whispered, “like a painting. A work of art.”

His eyes greedily absorbed the scars, trying to savor the moment, capture the intricate details on every aged wound, the variations in colour, the raised lesions, recognising the types of weapons, spells, that might’ve caused them.

“What a life you’ve led, Rook. I've only a few scars, due to… more unfortunate circumstances, and no doubt less grandiose from all you’ve experienced outside the Mourn Watch.”

He leaned in closer, to inspect them, his body temperature rising along with the temptation to kiss her… to replace his fingers with his lips…

Emmrich stiffened, shaking his head in shame as if he had committed some heinous crime. But it might as well have been, letting these emotions get the best of him, under such damning circumstances. This was not the time, nor the place. And this was absolutely NOT how he conducted himself! You dolt! What kind of gentleman would he be if he succumbed to his lust, these emotions… he’d be no better off than some of his former lovers.

As he attempted to remove any trace of vulgar thoughts from his mind, one scar in particular caught his eye. A pale circular lesion that covered nearly her entire left shoulder blade. He traced circles around it, massaging the skin, as Rook melted into his hands.

“Tell me, how did you get this one?”

“Um… that one… oh! A bar fight, ha. Hanged Man in Kirkwall. Went there with Varric once to follow a lead apparently, but between us, I think it was for a book signing.”

“Book signing?”

“Mmm. Remind me, Emmrich… to show you some of his books when we’re back at the Lighthouse. You might be shocked to know what Varric gets up to in his free time.”

“Ah,” Emmrich hesitated, removing his hands from her back. “Did you want to talk about Var–”

Rook spun around, leaning towards Emmrich in an attempt to kiss him. Their lips almost touched but she winced at the last possible moment, holding onto her side as she collapsed on top of him. Emmrich nearly fell off the bed, cringing from the awkwardness and the pain from his ribs.

“Rook.”

“Too much?” She steadied herself, looking back at him sheepishly.

Emmrich stared back at her, narrowing his eyes in disappointment, but ended up softening under her gaze all the same.

“I’ve thought about this moment…” Emmrich turned away, sighing dramatically.

“Aw, what? You mean tending to my wounds? I knew you were charming, but this is a whole new level.”

“No. No not that. I’d enjoy nothing more than to… to share this moment with you further, Rook, but my dear, you’re still wounded, you’ve lost blood… It would be unbecoming. And until we’ve returned to the Lighthouse your safety is my greatest priority.”

Rook giggled, leaning in again, but Emmrich held her steady.

“Later, Rook. When you’ve fully recovered, I’d love to broach the topic again. Properly.”

“Sorry. Was worth a shot… I guess I ruined the mood, huh?”

“Well, you could say…”

Their moment ended abruptly when another animalistic shriek cut through the air. But this one was familiar, aggravating even, the same one Emmrich had heard repeatedly since joining Rook and her team.

“Could that…”

“Assan!” Rook screamed.

The griffon’s call came again, its sound getting closer. Emmrich jumped to his feet, rushing towards the door.

“I for one am looking forward to getting out of here and having a nice, warm bath.”

“Emmrich?”

As he turned towards Rook, the moonlight filtered in through the broken roof, evelopping her in a soft glittering spotlight. She was still bloodied and had a mere bed sheet draped around her bruised and battered body. Even so, the sight of her caused his pulse to start racing again, a shiver coursing through his soul. There was a shifting feeling in his heart, a pang, that worsened the longer he looked at her. Rook. The most magnificent woman he had ever seen.

“Thank you.”

Emmrich returned her acknowledgement with a bow.

“We’re even now, I suppose.” Emmrich said, beginning to unassemble his makeshift barricade. “Until the next time one of us gets into trouble.”

“Well then, I’ll just have to bring you on every excursion from now on.”

“I’d quite like that, actually.”

“Good.”

Emmrich caught himself smirking, not so much at the notion of endangering himself continuously, but at the prospects of the future, and their budding relationship.

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