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mojo-bro-tho · 8 days ago

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Blood Sugar… Ch. 9

~I’m gonna start off by saying two things. One, I lowkey recommend reading this one on AO3 cuz some of the formatting makes way more sense there but I’ll do my best with this too. Second of all, this chapter is ridiculously long and is really a big excuse for me to have fun with drama and set up plot. I hope it’s still good though. If you even just skim this, I promise I would not be offended lol there’s also so much dialogue in this holy shit I’m sorry~

Tags: @my-queen-rhaenyra-targaryen

Word count: 10.5k

Content Warning: Suggestive language, disrespectful attitude towards SW (for the plot, this is a Pretty Woman AU), distressing themes, world building lore dump that you can skip if you want-

AO3 like!

Previous!

…Being…

To be, or not to be? That was the fucking question. Lichdom, Professor, Emmrich. He wasn’t entirely sure what he was meant to be doing these past few days. Much less what he was meant to be all together. It would be nobler to see her, to stop avoiding her. No, he’d done worse than avoid, he had gone so far as to try and ignore her existence. Scratching out a moniker ill-earned from black books with copious amounts of ink. Oh, how fortunate he had felt in the moment of triumph and how quickly it had melted into a foaming sea of troubles.

How swift had it been? Flesh giving way to its consumption, devouring all rationale as it pleased. To be, in this case, felt as though it could be nothing more than a dream. Yet he was, for those rapturous moments. To dream was often to desire, and there laid the jagged, frayed edges of the mind that gnawed like teeth against his morality. It would be kinder to see her.

But with Emmrich, to be, to dream, to desire almost always came with dread. In a stone carved cage for the two of them, where everything around them was scorned by time, even the air, even himself, aside from her and this toiling want between them, she had asked him something crucial. ‘Do I frighten you, Emmrich?’ And he answered truthfully, perhaps the most truthful thing he had ever uttered in his life. He was afraid, and he was a hypocrite for it.

Because in a finite gap in reality, the weight of his fears had balanced perfectly on the scale with her languishing on the opposite end. Within those seconds he felt relief. Put out of his misery from the injury of burdening loneliness. Before the gap closed.

The man had not forgotten her last words to him. ‘See you next week, Lichdom.’ Not Emmrich, not even a playful Professor. With every step he took to get away from the mausoleum there came another bite of those ravorous teeth. It was spoken gently, some may have even seen reassurance laced into the phrase. But not Emmrich. The words lacked any sweetness. Tart enough to make his jaw clench and ache along the point she had pressed her lips into him.

Not to be seemed like the answer. In the wake of what they had done, sewn into that look of disappointment on her face, and uttered in the nonchalance that her voice mellowed to, somewhere between it all lied… anguish. He was meant to be Lichdom only, but he wasn’t anymore, or was he? Becoming Emmrich to her, the more curiosity took root.

And when he had called the number during the evening hours of Sunday, it had not been to cancel. He had to check something, had to know what it meant, or try to decipher that question that had yet to take shape in his mind. The balance taken by The Crows was exactly as they told him it would be. Which could only mean one thing, he had not been charged for what happened.

Rook hadn’t told them.

Why hadn’t she? Surely she was supposed to, right? It may have been a mistake but he couldn’t be sure and when the panic struck- He told them he wouldn’t be able to keep the appointment for Monday. The receptionist did not ask why, simply made a note of his absence and wished him a good rest of his evening. Because he wasn’t Emmrich to them, he was Lichdom. And even though she had called him Lichdom when they parted, she hadn’t told them. Emmrich still? Being and not being.

He was impossibly confused. And having a bedridden 6 year old didn’t exactly give him the chance to think clearly. So yes, he was afraid to admit it but the first cancellation had been nothing more than a reflex. A good reflex in retrospect, Manfred hadn’t been well enough yet to go to school, let alone The Belfry. The following two calls he’d made had been more purposeful, as well as each check of his accounts to see if the error had been remedied. It never was.

They needed to speak to each other about what happened. But there was an amount of… cruelty there. Rook had given him no real reason to discredit anything she had said or done, no indication that she was after something with malicious intent. Nor had she taken any action that overtly told him that she was being anything but genuine with him. But it would be ridiculous to not doubt. Only a besotted or naive fool would take all of this at face value.

Several days of nail biting anxiety. Several days of him staring at Miss Ingellvar’s work and considering setting it all on fire in his home office. Considering just how selfish he was being for allowing it all to get this far. Even more so for wasting the already borrowed time he had been afforded. He needed to focus on the Hand of Glory but he couldn’t, not with this torrent keeping his mind split at the seams.

Thursday morning, and Emmrich still felt conflicted. Still drowsy from the nearly closed curtain of a dream where he heard a woman laughing on the other side. Never seen, never known, and thereby making him uneasy. Being came with fear, not being came with suffering. So, for now, he would be between the two. A little shaken with a bit of an ache but neither too powerful that he couldn’t continue. Ignorance that was not quite bliss.

The air was cold… soberingly cold. He stood outside beneath his umbrella and let the chill settle into his hands and gold. It was a fight to not lean his shoulders against the soaked stone wall behind him. Heard the splashing footsteps of students rushing into the building to his left and knew he’d have no back in soon. Just another moment longer. If he were at home, he may have smoked while being swaddled by the petrichor dense air. Perhaps later.

It wasn’t a perfect solution, but the rain did make him feel better. It was enough to put a smile back on his face, a somewhat somber one but a smile nonetheless. More grounded now, the professor made his way inside. Chatter coated the halls and the greetings of students was a considerable aid to his weariness. He loved his job. He passed by Johanna’s room, even the familiar sound of her chastising had a way of making him feel some normalcy. Better now.

Emmrich sauntered back into his classroom, umbrella now at his side and being slipped into the caddy he kept by the door that rarely anyone used these days. “Good morning, everyone!” He called out jovially and received mostly incoherent muttering in response. “Yes, yes, I see the weather has claimed a few of you already.” Dreary days in Nevarra were commonplace, but they held the same effect regardless. And in a way, that too gave him some peace. A handful of chuckles came his way.

“Please take your seats so that we may begin, and I’m sure everyone’s essays have made their way to the podium?” Another series of mumblings. He took a glance at the stand that typically housed the projector, a fair amount of papers sat atop it. And a couple of his students shuffled towards it to add to the stack. Emmrich found himself approaching his own desk, readjusting the sleeves of his pinstripe button-up shirt, smoothing the front of his knitted vest. He had popped in earlier to drop off his things, not bothering with his office yet, before feeling the urge to melt away into the rain outside. A little disrepair he’d had over himself this week that no one could really glean.

His satchel was soon opened, quietly pulling the case that held his glasses from within and wordlessly slipping the frames on. A circle of blue weighed in his peripherals. Why wouldn’t he just throw it away? He looked back to the desk as if to pretend he still hadn't seen it, when something else captured his attention. It took him a second to notice but… one of his handkerchiefs sat beside the bag.

He had no recollection of taking it out that day. Did he leave one behind yesterday? No, that couldn’t be it. And the handkerchief was certainly his, the small embroidery on the corner of the neatly folded fabric confirmed that. As he went to pick it up, he noticed something poking out from one of the edges. A scrap of notebook paper. With his thumb and pointer finger, he pinched the page and slowly slid it away from the fabric.

‘The Crows send their regards from the back of the room.’

Maker, don’t do this to him now. His gaze flicked up to the top rows, trying to keep his expression neutral while frantically searching the faces there. Sure enough, in the middle section, taking an end seat to his right, was a woman he had been fighting to not think about for the last five days. Ignoring, avoiding, seen for the first time and known. Rook. Even from a distance he was certain it was her.

He watched her gather the back of her softly dampened hair into her hand, securing it with a claw and allowing the front ends to remain free. With the desk obscuring her body, he could only make out the fact that her arms were bare from a thin strapped top the color of slightly withered violets. And when she saw him take in her visage, she smiled.

Full of condemnation or arrogance, he couldn’t be sure. But it was not kind. Not that he believed he actually deserved the kindness if it had been there. The smallest peek of teeth, and the slanting of sharply lined eyes were meant to cut into him. She leaned forward, resting her cheek against a propped arm. His lungs felt heavy, while his intensities wished to float and have all his insides meet in the middle of his torso. Hovering like a fog. He couldn’t stare long. And with her out of his sights his mind had the room to form thousands of questions.

Why was she here? How did she get in? Was she allowed to do this? Did her job send her? Should he call her down and send her away? Endless questions that didn’t show on his face but Rook noticed them dripping off his bangles. Anxious little twinkles from motions he didn’t need to make. She got Bellara’s notebook ready, along with all the highlighters she insisted on Rook using. Gave her a little diagram to follow, which honestly Rook thought was pretty cute.

Emmrich chose not to say anything, which she clearly had expected him to do. Because saying anything would be acknowledging that he noticed her and so asking her to leave would just draw attention. That was the absolute last thing he wanted right now. Just pretend like she’s not there. That was all he had to do.

This was just a normal Thursday for one of his sociocultural classes. Same groups of students he’d had so far this year, no one new. No one he had an entirely ill-advised and inappropriate rendezvous with in a bloody cemetery for Maker’s sake. Pretend as if he hadn’t ever heard her say his name like it was a mercy in need of acting. The thought of those manicured nails dragging down his neck didn’t keep him finding sleep Saturday night. He hadn’t run a finger over the spot on his jaw where her lip gloss was left behind like a wound and considered tasting it in lieu of tasting her.

How was he supposed to focus like this? Just follow the lesson plan. Try not to look in the top row.

The first few minutes were fine. Maybe ten or so had passed before he looked back up at her again to find her taking notes. What was she writing about? It was making him nervous. And then she looked up form her page and he-

He turned back around. Focus. “Now, I’m sure you all recall our discussions on how the Palansene were paramount to the establishment of ancient Nevarra, and I’m sure you remember from prior courses on the Known Histories of Elvhenan that they were not the only ones to have settled there. It was that very cultural exchange that drastically shifted the landscape of our ancient society. Which eventually led to a few points of interest that we can witness the effects of as recently as the last 500 years. Does anyone recall any of those points?” He asked. About five hands raised. “Miss Verulus.”

“Nevarra was the first of the former Imperium territories to abolish slavery after the Exalted Marches, and that is largely credited towards their shared history with the Elvhenan Empire.”

“Correct you are, Miss. The Palansene were once part of a larger collective of human migrants that had broken down into multiple fragments from there. In particular, the Palansene tribe settled across both Nevarra and the Free Marches. Yet, there are some glaring cultural differences between the two. And I promise you, class, this does lead to something of great importance. Is anyone able to pinpoint what is currently believed to be the first important cultural exchange between the Palansene and the Elvhenan?”

Hesitation. Disquiet. Reluctant hands start to raise again. He points at random. “Gold. Nevarra has always been a gold mining nation. But it was the ancient Elvhenan that taught early Nevarrans how to utilize it, before the Dispersion, and you can see at a lot of sites with gold designs that were influenced by the Elvhen people.”

“Well done, Miss Ablinger. But that fact is rooted within a different exchange. Can we get another?” Emmrich finds another hand.

“Burial rituals? A lot of human societies, prior to the Imperium, that were isolated from Elvhen settlements would burn their dead rather than bury them. That practice spread prior the the Exalted Marches as a result of Nevarra incorporating burial rituals from Elvhenan. And the earliest golden artifacts we have all come from those sites.”

“Excellent work, Mr. Barkhausen! But again, there was more to it. Would anyone else like to try their hand at guessing?”

No hands in his direct eye-line. Dare he look up? It wasn’t fair to his students in the top row to avoid them just because of Rook… But he was afraid to. A quick glance and confoundingly he saw that indeed one person had a hand raised. A well manicured hand sporting a smartwatch on her wrist. Maker help him- Emmrich pointed towards her rather than saying her name. It would be best if he didn’t, and to be entirely honest the idea of calling out to her right now made his head spin. The look on his face must have been amusing as Rook grinned impishly.

“Philosophy.” She replied simply. A fact he was incredibly relieved by but drew a crease in his brow all the same.

“Expand on that, if you would.”

“The Vir Tanadhal, consisting of three leading principles. Vir Assan, Vir Bor’Assan, and Vir Adahlen. Vir Adahlen in particular speaks to a lot of the originating practices that the Palansene carried prior to their settling and hosts some similarities to their belief in animism. Then there’s geography to consider after that.” The way she spoke was in a lackadaisical drawl. As though the answer ought to have been fairly obvious. The wetted strands of her hair were starting to curl close to her chin.

That was not something they covered in full with their lessons, which meant it was either information she already knew or had learned in his absence. Emmrich wasn’t sure if either would be more encouraging. “Quite. It is believed that a trading of ideologies was what first sparked the cultural blend of the Palansene and the Elvhenan Empire that entirely birthed many of the foundational customs of early Nevarra.” He turned back around, putting his attention back towards the blackboard. Teeth bit at the inside of his cheek, he wanted to ask where she’d learned that from but he couldn’t. Not now. “In the Free Marches we can find in their history a lack of this immersion. And as we just heard, their geographical location plays a pivotal role in that. Specifically to do with their proximity to the Amaranthine Ocean and the modern nation of Antiva.”

Something crinkled far behind him, recognizable enough to make his finger twitch. Was she seriously eating candy right now? In his class? Leave it be. “Arlathan once stretched across the entirety of modern Tevinter, Antiva, and Rivain. But it was the Neromenians and the Qarinus Tribes that invaded these segments, not the Palansene. Because of these factors, along with an entire ocean to the east, the Palansene who had settled towards The Free Marches were also being imbued with the cultural exchange of these tribes at greater expectancy…” Rook is Antivan, but she has a Dalish name. There aren’t too many official clans in Antiva proper, is she from The Free Marches then? Enough! Of course, she just had to insist on making her presence known. As if he could have forgotten. As if he could successfully ignore her at all. This week had done nothing but incessantly prove that fact.

Class continued. Emmrich half anticipated Rook to continuously raise her hand to answer his questions, but he was thankful to see that she chose to remain silent for the duration. He couldn’t be entirely sure if it was because she had truly nothing to say or if because she chose to focus on other ways to prod at him. First it was the candy wrapper, then the sound of a chiming notification came through from the back. Could have been someone else but he doubted it. To his credit, he was right, Rook had gotten a message from Viago. She silenced it though, not wanting to be interrupted again.

Then something clattered to the floor. He turned around to find her hopping down to the row below. Her bag had flipped off the edge, and Mr. Zimmerman was swiftly on his feet to help her. He flashed her a sheepish grin, and Rook returned it with a soft upturn of her lips. Sweet and gentle… but something didn’t feel right about it. Emmrich couldn’t place exactly what it was about it that seemed off putting to him. But that smile was more like the one she’d flashed him at The Lighthouse, not while they were in the garden. And some part of him was horrified that he could easily tell the difference.

It seemed as if checking the time was an impulse he couldn’t stop when she was around. The wall clock, his watch, even his phone once. How much longer? Each minute seemed longer than the last, and the more time passed the more time it seemed he was lacking any. And when he finally reached the end of his lesson plan, turning towards the class to give them their assignments, he nearly lost all sensation in his nervous system.

She was looking at him, with the same expression she’d had the day he found her listening to music outside Blackthorn. Unfettered, earnest, nothing like the way she had damn near sneered at him earlier. Bursting with life and energy despite the silence. Looking towards the bottom of the desk, he could slightly make out movement. As if she was slowly tapping her feet while looking at him. Dreamy, clouded over eyes that didn’t waver from him, even when their gazes met.

“I shall have your essays graded before the end of Monday. Next week, we’ll be covering more material from the early integration of the Palansene and the Elvhenan Empire. Along with how the eastern and western divisions of the tribe began to shift as a result. So please, do come prepared with the reading as listed in the monthly syllabus. I hope to see all of you bright and early on Tuesday!” He projected to the room, finding it difficult to look away from the top row.

Emmrich tore himself away and went back to his own desk by the blackboard. He leaned against the edge of it, watching students shamble towards the door with a passive expression. The more of them left the room, the more coherent the chattering that remained became. “I’m sure I’ve never seen you in here before. I think I’d remember you.”

“Oh, would you now?” So familiar, yet so hollow comparatively. Brittle and painless like sugar glass.

”If not then I must have short term memory loss. Nicolas.”

“You can call me Rook.” Emmrich’s hand gripped the edge of the wood.

“Rook… cool name. What are you majoring in?”

“Hmmmm. Haven’t decided yet, actually. I know that probably sounds stupid but I’ve always been kind of indecisive about this stuff. I like too many things, you know?”

“Yeah, I hear you. And I totally get that vibe from you.”

“That obvious, huh?” Rook chuckled. Artificial. Had she ever humored him that way before? Would she still?

“You also seem like the party girl type too.”

“Do I? And here I thought I was hiding it pretty well. Damn.” Please, stop talking.

“If you’re up for it, some of us are meeting up at the ReLight tomorrow. You should come too.”

“Tomorrow? Well… normally I hang out with my boyfriend on Fridays.” What? “But he’s been acting super weird recently. Like avoiding me and stuff... Ah, shit, sorry! Probably shouldn’t talk about that.” She must know he’s listening. Once again, he was correct.

“It’s all good! I wouldn’t want to overstep but… Well, if your boyfriend is ignoring you then maybe you should go out, you know? Take your mind off of things.”

“Mr. Zimmerman.” Emmrich called out, finally snapping his gaze towards the pair slowly approaching down the steps. He watched Rook slide her sucker back into her mouth. “Apologies, but if this conversation could be taken elsewhere, that would be ideal.” Usually, he wasn’t one to scold too superficially. But in all frankness, he simply was not in the mood today.

“Right! Yeah! Sorry, Teach. Do you wanna-” He turned to Rook, who gave him a sympathetic look and interrupted him.

“I actually have a couple questions for Professor Volkarin.” It was strange hearing her say his last name. “Maybe I can catch you later?”

In response to her question, Nicolas tore out a corner from his notes and scratched something out on it. Muttering something about if she were to change her mind. He slipped the pencil behind his ear and handed the scrap to Rook. One more quick smile and he was rushing out the door, leaving the room devoid of anyone aside from him and Rook. It made the space feel strangely claustrophobia inducing, despite the two of them being a good distance apart.

The moment the door closed, Emmrich saw something flicker behind her eyes. She sighed, crumbling the paper into her palm. Entirely merciless. It was things like that that engulfed him with worry. And then she’d look at him and-

“Fancy seeing you here, Professor Volkarin.” It was like the rest of the world disappeared, singling him out the way a marksman might hone in on a stationary target. Easy pickings. “You’ve saved me once again. However shall I pay you back this time?” She teased, nearly skipping towards the waste bin to throw the paper away. Hadn’t even looked at it.

For the first time since he had noticed her, he was able to examine her up close. The clothing was much more like what he usually anticipated, though a bit more relaxed. Black pants that swayed comfortably but hung off her hips to reveal most of her abdomen. The purple top just barely covered her ribs. There was a chain wrapped around her waist, silvery with the shapes of hearts scattered around it. And a dense, black cardigan rested across her forearm.

The tattered messenger bag carelessly teetering off the edge of her shoulder. Perhaps it was because he needed something to look at that wasn’t her, or maybe it had something to do with it lightly swinging from side to side and bumping against her upper thigh. But either way, he stared at the bag for far longer than he’d ever cared to before. It had clearly been used for many years, full of tears where some stitches were done with, in polite terms, a lack of finesse while others were well practiced. Pins, buttons, and patches scattered across it. One in particular stood out, the only spot of green across the menagerie of black, silver, and white. Shaped like an eye within the center of the sun and large letters beneath labeling it as ‘Seeker’. It was strangely familiar.

For a few moments, Emmrich did not respond to her. Simply watched, taking her in. Watched the way her earrings rattled against one another. How the sides and front of her shoes peeked out from the curtain of her pants to reveal various doodles marked into the rubber. Her mouth, the white candy stick rolling from one cheek to the other at the behest of her tongue. Never staying still. Never a pond, always a river. Not tranquil.

“Why are you here, Rook?” Perhaps he shouldn’t have said it so coldly. She tilted her head, feeling something needle in her intestines.

“That should be Miss de Riva to you, Professor Volkarin.” She rolled his name like it was something to savor. He wished she wouldn’t say it anymore. Made it harder to think.

“We are not in a session right now.”

“No, but I did just attend one of your classes. That makes me a student, at least for today.” Arguing over semantics would get him nowhere.

“You aren’t supposed to be here.”

“True. But, in all fairness, you haven’t been where you’re supposed to be either. I think I’m allotted a pass on this one.” Rook’s movements were fluid. Slowly approaching the heightened platform of the desk. Not straight on but passively shifting to and fro while encroaching.

“This is not the same. This is my work place, so aside from you being an indomitable distraction from my lesson plan, you being here could be seen as a safety risk if the wrong person notices. You don’t even have a visitor's badge!” He chastised. “Rook, they could have called security-”

“Miss de Riva.”

The correction came again, completely ignoring his concerns. This time spoken more seriously and made Emmrich’s heart leap to his throat. It hadn’t even been a week since she was insisting that he not refer to her as Miss if he could help it. With furrowed brows she observed him, almost a scowl. And again, he felt both conflicted and perplexed. “Have… Have I upset you?” To his question, she scoffed.

“Oh, you’re putting that fancy degree of yours to excellent use, Professor! However could you guess?” The chuckle she released was exasperated and entirely irritated. Deepened thanks to the confection obstruction in her cheek. Bare arms crossed at the center of her ribcage.

“It was never my intention to do so. Forgive me.” Emmrich sighed.

“I wouldn’t need to forgive you if you just didn’t do that.”

“Do what, exactly?” He questioned. “Is it not within my ability in this contract to cancel if I am unavailable? You said so yourself, we both reserve the right to not hold a session for whatever reason we deem appropriate.” He watched Rook pull the sucker out of her mouth and heard it clink against the back of her teeth in her rush.

“Yeah. We do. But that’s a once in a while thing. Your contract has you listed as three times a week unless you update it to less. You’ve canceled three times now without updating. If you cancel again, they’re going to assume you’re cheating us out of money and cut you off altogether.” She explained pointedly, dragging her free hand over the top of her head. That was not something he was aware of, and perhaps he would have apologized again had Rook not continued. “And this is suddenly about the contract now, of all things! Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Has it not been about the contract every time before now?” Emmrich felt no need to raise his voice. He rarely ever did. But the calmness of it set the roots of Rook’s hair on end. A tingle meandering down her scalp like ants trying to crawl into her brain.

“This isn’t ‘before’ anymore. I think you know that too.” Quiet, pained, a wound left open to pick at. He couldn’t help but feel gutted over the look on her face. Not quite looking him in the eyes and instead fervently fixed on his collar.

Emmrich stepped down from the small stage with a small push. He had tried not to approach her before, worried of what would happen if he got too close again. Closeness is what led them to this predicament. Closeness with her always brought a smell that made his mouth water. And in wanting to touch her, to hold her jaw with spread fingers and her chin against his palm to hold her gaze to his, instead he shoved his hands into his pockets. Pesky things had to be kept away.

“Rook.” This time, she did not correct him. “Look at me.” He instructed and she complied. Rook looked hurt. He felt disgusted by it. “You must understand. I would never, ever, under any circumstances purposefully cause you distress. But there is… there’s so much to sift through, questions and I couldn’t-” How should he phrase this? “There are vital circumstances that must be considered. So, I am sorry for having done so. It was never my intention.” Circumstances, huh?

Admittedly, it hadn’t been something he considered. How this must have made her feel. Maybe he assumed she wouldn’t care. That… wasn’t like him. When it came to matters of these sorts, he had always been keen on intently looking upon his partners. Another reason to feel terrible and out of sorts. Of course she was upset, how could she not be? He had left her in a garden after taking her in such an abrupt and entirely ungentlemanly manner. And he ran. He would be angry in her position as well. But that didn’t clear up any of his confusion over this, frankly, absurd scenario he’d found himself in. Still, her expression softened.

Outside the lecture hall, a group of students passed through, with voices far louder he cared to hear right now. A body slammed into his door, causing them both to flinch and look towards it. Laughter ensued, conversation continued, and soon quieted with distance. But it had made him horribly aware of where they were.

“I… guess we have things to talk about.” Rook breathed out, lightly frustrated.

“It would seem so.” Emmrich smiled tiredly. “My office is on the floor below. Perhaps there would be more suitable? At the very least it would be quieter.” Private. He still wasn’t sure if that was a wise decision or not. Rook nodded, rolling back and forth on her feet from heel to toe.

“Yeah. Quiet would be nice.” Something twisted at her insides. Coiling up like a venomous snake.

Rook hadn’t gone into this conversation fully realizing that she was upset. Well, she knew she was but not really why or to what extent. And an attempt had been made to mask it, hide it away having felt at ease while taking notes, if not a little mischievous. But the moment he’d asked why she was there, it had seemed far too uncaring. Callous. It made her stomach hurt. His current demeanor was preferable, though obviously uncertain. Yes, quiet would be preferred.

“I can meet you down there. I have to make a call real quick.” Really she had to send some texts that she couldn’t let him look at. Emmrich went back to the desk, taking considerable effort to step away from her. Gathering up his satchel and coat into his arms.

“Of course. Take your time.” He replied reassuringly. “Down the stairs, to your left, I’m close to the end of the hall. My name is on the door as well.”

Aspects of this conversation felt too similar to the last time they were together, in Emmrich’s opinion. Although his heart hammered in his chest, his muscles relaxed at least in knowing this wasn’t the end of the conversation. A stark difference from Saturday. He wanted to press his lips into the top of her head again despite that. Trying to remedy the awkwardness that settled with the dust. Not now though. Later, if she would allow it. If they were allowed to at all.

Rook crunched down on the candy, its stick flicked into the waste bin to sit alongside the phone number she didn’t want. Emmrich opened the door first to step out into the hallway with his umbrella quickly tucked under his arm. He held it open and allowed Rook to pass through into the busy hallway. Her eyes were on her watch, in need of something else to keep her grounded with all the formless noise around her.

The professor spared her once glance at her scrunched expression as she peered at her watch before parting ways. It wasn’t usually like Viago to message her on her days off, and she ignored it before and set her watch to silent. Figured he was asking if she wanted a call-in appointment, which was the last thing she needed at the moment. But now she had three messages.

‘Where is Dareth meant to be working today?’

‘Do you know where Dareth is? Yes or no.”

‘Merda, if you don’t answer this in the next hour, I swear to the Maker that I will become your worst nightmare.’

Rook stared down at the words with a heavy crease in her brow. The last text was from ten minutes ago. She redirected the texts to her phone to type.

‘I don’t know? He normally works deliveries on weekdays.’

‘He might be at TL today though.’

‘If not there, you can check with D.’

It was odd for him to ask her. But she supposed that came with the drawback of being his reference. Even stranger though was the fact that Vi needed to contact her at all. Dareth wasn’t one to skip a shift without warning. She went through her texts, nothing new from him. So instead, she went to his parole officer.

‘Yo, Jac, Vi is having a piss fit over Dareth being late?? I guess??’

‘Sick???’

‘Phone broke again? Let me know, I can pay.’

‘Just have him call in and apologize, k?’

Now it was time for the original person she was planning on texting. Recent texts, bell and orange heart emoji. Last text Rook had gotten was from early this morning saying she landed and Rook liked the message in response.

‘Your school smells like dust lol’

‘But I dropped off your essay and your notes are perfect’

‘Thanks, Rook. I owe you.’ Instant response, heart emoji.

‘I take payments of halla cakes.’

‘At your earliest convenience.’ Heart emoji, halla emoji.

Rook turned the screen off, tossing her phone back into her bag with a groan. She would like to ask how Cyrian is doing but… It would be better to wait. Probably. Give Bels a chance to process whatever was happening. As for Dareth, Jacobus would straighten his cousin out. Kid or not, he basically ran their place so if all else fails then he’ll straighten him out.

She had stayed close to the Lecture Hall, peering at the door one more time to ready herself for the walk downstairs. Disquiet was beginning to inch up her back. Circumstances, he says… The sharp click of heels stabbed into her thoughts, forcing Rook’s head to snap in the direction it was coming from. Despite the hallway still having a fair amount of people in it, the students parted ways for the person approaching with a heavy step.

The woman was taller than Rook, but was likely only a bit over average in height for a human woman. Her hair was grey but peppered with streaks of dull black, tied back into a full bun. Upper lip thinner than the bottom, painted a flat, deep shade of red. She wore a white blouse with gold buttons up the front and a draped skirt clung to her waist, nearly mistakable for a pencil skirt, in a similar wine tone. The shape of her proved to be rather curvaceous. Without looking at Rook directly, the woman’s head turned to look towards the lecture hall as well and tsked.

“Blasted old cretin. Not in his office this morning and not here now? Where the bloody-” The woman’s eyes were icy, but shifted to a lake green in the filmy glare of her blue light glasses against the fluorescents. “You. Half-wit. Are you lost?” The woman asked, may as well have been pointing directly at Rook’s face while doing so. The gold bracelets on the woman’s arms did not move, cuffed tight in geometric shapes and fully revealed by her rolled sleeves.

“I don’t think so.” Rook replied in a placid tone.

“Then why are you standing outside of Volkarin’s room like a lost puppy?” Ok, damn. Mommy, chill.

“Um-”

”Ugh, are you looking for him too?” She asked with a roll of her eyes.

“Yes?” In a manner of speaking.

“Well, come on then. The fool is probably in his office now because he’s out to irritate me, specifically.” Oh, she hates him then. The woman turned on her heel, not bothering to check if Rook was actually following. She was, but that's besides the point. “I don’t recognize you.” She commented, and Rook thought it was strange how the students always seemed to move around her rather than having to navigate the flow. Not even Rook herself could command a space that much. It was honestly impressive.

“I don’t take your class.” She responded.

The woman regarded that with a ‘hmph’ sound. Not quite arrogantly but certainly dumbfounded. “Almost everyone who takes one of Volkarin’s classes takes mine as well. And I don’t recognize you at all.” Does Bellara take her class too? “Which means one of two things. You either are a half-wit or you don’t even belong to this department.” The woman glanced back over her shoulder. “You certainly don’t dress like you’re meant to be here. Language Arts? Fine Arts? One of those.”

To be completely honest, Rook couldn’t get a real read on this woman. Everything about her was fast paced and stinging as a result of it. Like every word she spoke was a slap to the temple. “Neither, actually.”

“I hope you’re not some hussy.” She sighed. “I can save you the time and let you know that prattling fool hasn’t hit that stage of his midlife crisis yet.”

“Shoot, was it the bare midriff that gave me away? Drat.” Rook tsked. The woman chuckled lowly. “But I suppose I missed the bit in the student handbook that stated teachers are allowed to accuse you of being a trollop.” She continued as the two trotted down the stairs.

“They aren’t, I just don’t care.” That much was incredibly obvious. “In that case though, do yourself a favor and start looking into the forensics courses for next year. It’ll at least give you a reason to put on a real fucking shirt.”

“I’ll get right on that, Ma’am.”

There was something about this woman that strangely reminded Rook of her mother. A very blunt, far less passive aggressive version of her mother. Profoundly intense. Yet, impossibly charismatic at the same time. Or maybe that was just the mommy issues talking, who’s to say? Either way, Rook found her to be quite entertaining despite the antagonism. Partially because it came off as sort of a steel edged flattery.

The pair were brisk in moving down the hall in the direction Emmrich had given her earlier. “Now, Volkarin has been acting like a complete milksop this week. Absolutely insufferable. So I suggest you ask him whatever you’re needing and make it fast so that you’re spared from the weepy look on his face.”

“He seemed fine in class.”

“Thank the Maker for small mercies then that it’s just me who has to suffer his whining. And curse that bastard too while I’m at it for the same reason.” This woman was a fucking riot. Oh, Rook wished she had been here a couple hours ago before she realized how pissed off she was. This would have made her feel better. It still kind of was, but she imagined it would have been even better before his class.

“Or maybe the Maker was cursing you by making you deal with it.”

“Hah! Must have. Glad to see that not every nitwit in this infernal place is incapable of falling for his amenable drivel. Makes me irritated every time I have to hear a complaint.”

“Nothing wrong with a firmer hand from time to time. If you go too easy on someone then they don’t always have the drive to push themselves.” And in reality, Rook missed pushing herself. The woman did not reply, but she did hum approvingly.

As the two walked further into the hall, the quieter it became. Echoes of conversation dampening against linoleum. Blanketing it all with a spell-like quality. This area smelled stronger of cleaning solution and lacked the lingering wafts of sweat, deodorant, and copious amount of dry shampoo that she had caught while checking her phone. Although she couldn’t say either was particularly pleasant. Too sterile made her think of hospitals so maybe the musk and dust was better.

They were soon approaching the end of the hall. A gold lettered plate came into view with his name impressively inlaid upon the dark, wooden door. What little nerves Rook had while alone had been successfully remedied by the brash woman’s presence.

“Did you want me to wait for you two to finish?” Rook asked. Whatever she was needing was obviously important, so she didn’t want to intrude.

“Pah! Please! If how long finishing takes is what you’re worried about then you might as well walk right in.” That ashamedly made Rook sputter more of a laugh than she should have.

She reached for the door, nails short but near immaculate, and didn’t bother with knocking once she found that it was in fact unlocked. The woman cracked the door open and motioned for Rook to enter first. She intended to take a moment to take in the scenery but the following few phrases took priority.

Emmrich stepped back from a rather impressive bookcase and his gaze quickly found hers. Far more relaxed than it had been earlier in the classroom. “Rook-” Then up, eyes widen, a single twitch of his upper lip. “Johanna!” Ah, she must be the woman’s name.

“Rook?” Johanna followed close behind, closing the door with her. Then the two women shared a look. One where Johanna’s held a sudden realization while Rook was… well, just sort of there. “You’re Rook?”

“Last time I checked, yes.” Now she was a bit confused, was she meant to know this person? Looking back to Emmrich, she saw a well of worry.

“Ah! That explains it!” Johanna exclaimed. “You’re the woman standing in for Franziska. No wonder I didn’t recognize you.” Emmrich’s thoughts were on fire. This was the worst case scenario.

“I didn’t realize other people knew what the plan was.” Rook admitted. She had been under the impression that Emmrich was keeping this on the downlow. But she supposed if this was a department issue, then it likely made sense at least one other teacher was involved.

“Johanna, was there something you needed from me?” Emmrich interjected, hands clasped together in front of his stomach. Rook couldn’t help but narrow her eyes at him.

“You never gave me the new key to the Necropolis. You said to pick it up from you yesterday but you left in a tizzy and then you were Maker knows where this morning.” Johanna complained, waving a single hand dismissively.

“Yes, my apologies. Let me retrieve that for you.” Emmrich quickly stepped towards his desk, dotted with picture frames that she couldn’t peak at from this angle. But this gave Rook a moment to examine the space as a whole. One might call it cozy, as it was far from spacious. But the slim furnishing did well to compensate for the abject lack of space. The set of windows on the opposite wall were covered with white roller shades, blocking her view of the rain. And an impressive amount of potted plants decorated the windowsill.

“Dr. Hezzonkoss, by the way. I imagine we’ll be seeing quite a bit more of each other.” Johanna stretched out a hand towards Rook. And she took it, hiding the surprise at how cold her fingers were.

“Oh? Why is that?” Rook questioned earnestly. Johanna scowled, though her eyes darted towards the tall man at the desk rather than at Rook herself.

“He hasn’t even told you yet? I’ve been trying to set up some time with you ever since things became official. Franziska was majoring with my side of the department. So I’ve been wanting to offer my assistance as well.”

“This is the first I’m hearing about it.”

“Now where did I put that blasted key?” Emmrich asked too loudly to be natural.

He was definitely nervous about something, that much was clear. But Rook couldn’t for the life of her figure out what it was. “You know, it was actually my idea to hire you for this. Not even my students had the damn backbone for it, and we can’t exactly solicit them for obvious reasons. Though, I figured he’d pick someone more mousy.” Johanna praised her and simultaneously complained.

Ah, so that’s what it was. Rook should’ve guessed Johanna was a patron of her business, a busy woman with that sort of steel-wool attitude would fit right in. That at least explained where the professor had gotten their number from, it had been something she was a bit curious about given his obvious inexperience. Crows don’t really ask those sorts of questions though, it usually leads to rather uncomfortable places. And it seemed just like Emmrich to try and cover for his friends extracurricular activities. There wasn’t a need to be embarrassed though, they were all adults here.

“If I had known another one of our customers worked here, I would’ve dressed up a bit nicer!” Rook jested, hearing the sound of drawers closing too loudly. “Would it be rude of me to ask who your regular specialist is? My first guess was either Wren or Crane. They usually go for the Dommy-Mommy types like you.”

“Aha! There it is!” Emmrich closed the gap between him and the doctor. Holding out the key to her expectantly, almost pleadingly. “Will that be all?”

She eyed him suspiciously, taking the new, gold colored key by slipping her pinky through the ring and plucking it away. “I can’t say I’ve had the pleasure of meeting Wren or Crane. Do you recommend them?” She asked.

“I don’t think Rook is allowed to answer things like that.”

“It’s fine, Emmrich.” She reassured. “We aren’t exactly competitive like that, sharing clients is fairly common. Variety is the spice of life. But to answer your question, Dr. Hezzonkoss, yes I do. If your tastes are more inclined towards those of feminine variety, then Wren might be the better choice for you.”

Johanna Hezzonkoss paused… A rather tumultuous one at that. Rook’s expression remained pleasant despite it, albeit a tad confused. Curiosity turned into realization. Then to rampant titulation. Fuck. And then his colleague laughed. A real, deep in the belly laugh that filled what little gaps of space the room had left to give. Tear pricking, unbridled amusement, pointed directly at Emmrich but knowing it was entirely at the expense of the young woman beside her.

“Oh- Oh, wait, you’re fucking serious?” Her head snapped in Emmrich’s direction with the widest grin he’d ever seen her sport in his life. “I thought you picked up some hack actor for this! Volkarin, when I said you couldn’t even pay a two-bit hooker to take lessons from you after you probably ran Franziska off, I didn’t think you’d take it so literally! Maker preserve me!” The sentence was clear, though partially broken up between spurts of puttering chuckles. “This is too perfect.

Immediately, Emmrich’s sights darted towards Rook. Still smiling calmly, but her shoulders were straighter, and whatever hopeful glimmer he had seen behind her eyes when she first came in was thoroughly stamped down. He felt like he couldn’t breathe but his mouth started to form something regardless.

“That’s not-”

“Well, to the professor’s credit and yours, I’m far more expensive than ‘two-bits’. Though, if you wanted my opinion, I’d say the only difference between them and myself is marketing.” Rook jabbed. Quick to pivot from the mistake of showing her hand too much. And she scolded herself for making an assumption she normally wouldn’t.

Johanna raised a brow. “Oh? How much do you cost then?” She asked with an uncharacteristic softness that set Emmrich on edge.

“You don’t have to answer that, Rook.”

“For this task or my usual gigs?” She continued, ignoring his intervention. It was too late anyway. Acting shy and secretive about it now would just make it worse, speaking unfortunately from experience. Just not usually Rook’s.

“The usual.” The doctor clarified. Rook showed a bit more teeth.

“Depends. My standard package costs 1,000 Kings an hour. But if you had more… specific tastes, I could put you in contact with my Handler to work out a good price for you.”

Johanna looked back to Emmrich with nothing short of glee. “Oh, you got the real deal, Volkarin! She’s even got a pimp! And she’s expensive.”

“Handler, not a pimp. But I guess that’s just a matter of semantics to the laypeople. I actually work for an agency.” To Rook’s correction, Johanna clicked her tongue.

“I suppose this explains why we haven't been introduced yet. Good thing I’m no prude. And I actually think I quite like you, Rook.” Her voice came out practically buzzing with excitement. “You’ve got bite. You’ll do nicely against those pricks on the board… but you will need some better training.” She seized Rook’s jaw in a tight grasp, turning her head sharply from side to side, examining her. She did not flinch. Eyes clouded and unwavering. But Emmrich did, fist clenching at his side. “A few classes with me should set you on the right path. Perhaps some etiquette lessons too while we’re at it. You could stand to be a bit more polite.” Emmrich stepped forward again, ready to intervene, even succeeded in grasping Johanna’s shoulder. But Rook-

“Of course, Ma’am. It’d be my pleasure to be molded by your capable hands.” She mused, tilting her head affectionately into Johanna’s harsh thumb. Emmrich tugged at the doctor’s shoulder, pulling her a pace away from Rook and drawing her attention back to him.

“You’re being incredibly rude right now, you realize that, right?” He questioned. Johanna raised a brow, noting the annoyance in his voice that he did not normally harbor. He hesitated, taking in a sobering breath. “Rook has taken to the studies very well so far, and she's providing us a great service that we desperately needed. Be nice. Please?” He implored. Johanna looked towards Rook with a raised brow.

“He hasn’t fucked you yet, has he?”

“Johanna!”

“Afraid not. A roll in the hay with me is about ten times more than our projected budget for every session.” Rook shrugged. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m well worth every bit.”

Again, he felt that ripple of unease. There was nothing about Rook’s demeanor that read as cold, or upset, but the air around her seemed to be colder than death to Emmrich. Face frozen into one that almost reflected back a mixture of Johanna’s own dismissal and her unique flavor of artificial sweetener. Rigor mortis in the expression but nowhere else, early in its death. She had not really looked at him at all during this interaction, she had no desire to. What would be the point?

Johanna sighed in relief. “Probably for the best. If you think he’s bad now, you should see him whenever someone is stupid enough to give him attention. It’s like his brain gets replaced by a wounded puppy’s.” She brushed off Emmrich’s hand without care.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Rook chuckled dully. Johana twirled the key around her finger.

“Next time you skulk around in here, come find me first. And wear some half decent clothes. I won’t have one of my pupils dress like a lazy tramp.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” Rook replied with a grin. Johanna turned, heels clacking loudly in the short distance it took for her to return to the door. With a hand on the door knob, she turned her head to glance back at Emmrich.

“Oh, and Volkarin.” He could only make out the side of her mouth, but the jeering nature of her expression reached her eyes. Sharp, taunting, and hot like a fire poker fresh from the embers. “Try not to bankrupt us before the Eluvian Foundation gets the chance to.”

With that, she left. A flitting yet jagged chuckle quelled behind the door she closed. All the air in the room left with her, leaving them both without the means to have sound travel in a voided vacuum. Until Emmrich’s held breath was released.

He found Rook still standing near the small sofa, still staring in the direction Johanna had been standing. One of the straps from her top threatened to slip off her shoulder. In her mind, she searched. No notes, no chords. Peace at last, at the price of reduction of self. Circumstances, indeed. The beginnings of a spiny headache was starting to creep up with the debate on if she should tell Teia about this. His eyes were on her, burning holes into her skin as they too searched for something.

“Rook, please, let me explain.” There was a desperation there, a wavering. But she just… smiled. Again but not quite. The distinction of which she was beginning to regret allowing him to know. Whatever.

“Don’t worry about it. No explanation needed for that, I think.” She said plainly, reaching into her bag to root around and grab her phone. More messages from Viago.

He approached with a suddenness that even surprised him.“There very much is a need for it.” Hands cupped both sides of her face, craning her neck up and taking her sights away from the screen. It was an intimacy he felt entirely undeserving of but he couldn’t stop his arms from reaching for her. “Johanna can be… a lot, most of the time. But that doesn’t excuse what she said, at all. I’m so sorry.”

“You know, I always hated when people apologize for shit other people did.” Rook groaned. “Unless, of course, if what you’re actually apologizing for is you considering me a ‘two-bit hooker’ as well, when I am in fact a more expensive one. Then I’m afraid I don’t need an apology for that either. Though, I would suggest not using that word choice with other people. Not exactly the polite terminology.”

“I wouldn't say that about anyone! Including you. There’s nothing wrong with-”

”Actually, I don’t need you to reassure me about the value of the service I provide. It’s just making you sound really condescending. It would’ve been nice for you to let me know ahead of time that other people are aware that I’m involved in this, though. Including how much they do and don’t know.” There’s no way she can tell Teia about this, Viago would just pull her from the contract. Emmrich felt the guilt bubbling.

“I promise, everyone else has been led to believe Miss Ingellvar is still accompanying me for the Eluvian events. Johanna and another teacher in my department, Myrna are the only ones who knew I’d hired someone. But they don’t know who you work for.”

“Who’d you get our contact information from?” She asked.

“A friend. Old customer, from my understanding. He gave me a number to call after I explained Johanna’s…”

“Challenge?”

Emmrich breathed in deep through the nose. He wanted to deny it, but he didn’t want to lie either. Perhaps challenge wasn’t the most accurate way to describe it. Because it was true that Johanna’s taunts had goaded him into seeking someone of her background out. But unlike Johanna, Emmrich had found her implications distasteful from the beginning. Which… really only spurred him on further to commit to it before he lost his nerve at The Lighthouse.

“I’m sorry.” He repeated. And this time, Rook knew perfectly well it was coming from him. Somehow that stung worse.

A part of her felt a bit silly for expecting something different. It wasn’t like she had put a whole lot of thought into why he came to The Crows with his request and not some ‘hack actor’ as Dr. Hezzonkoss put it. The Crows were more committed to success, more discreet, and had better connections. So, perhaps subconsciously she assumed he had valued that part of her job. Respected it.

“Rook, please say something.” His voice traveled softly, felt like cotton against burns. She hadn’t realized she’d gone quiet.

“Let’s focus on the job, yeah? I’m guessing your colleague isn’t going to go around talking about where I work, right?”

“Certainly not!” Emmrich replied earnestly. No, Johanna would not be foolish enough to do that. But she would more definitely use this against him personally later. But that was an issue for whoever he was then.

Rain pattered against the window, unseen behind the shades. “Good.” Rook relaxed a little. It was still quiet in her mind. Too quiet, it made her uncomfortable. Bitterness leached from the back of her throat and strangely made her mouth taste acrid. “I should head out soon. Before it gets too quiet to sneak out.”

She stepped around him, stopping only when she felt a pressure around her elbow. Skin meeting skin and rings. Heart racing, lungs stilling, and something hummed in her skull against her will. “Don’t go.” The hold was gentle. Barely there at all. But it felt like cinder blocks dragging her under cold water. “Not yet, please.”

If they could have just a few more minutes. Clearly, she wasn’t in the mood for apologies. They wouldn’t help. But she couldn’t leave like this either. Too many things had to be said. It didn’t matter how well crafted the expression was, he could see it now. There was a hurt behind her eyes shaped like betrayal.

“I don’t know if I have the energy for staying right now. Like you said, there are circumstances to think about.”

“Yes, but not this. Not you. So much has transpired.” Emmrich’s thoughts were bounding faster than he could truly comprehend. “The very reason I sought you out, needing you for this, it’s of an incredibly sensitive nature. But this, all of this, I don’t even know where to begin with it.”

She thought to herself for a moment, lavender eyes searching for any sign of malintent, and found none. “ Let's start with what I need to know for my contract and work our way up. One thing at a time. But later. When our heads are clear enough to unpack it.” Surprisingly, Rook didn’t feel the amalgamous anger she had been trying to decipher yesterday. And this wasn’t quite sadness either. Her fingers ran across his knuckles, avoiding his jewelry in favor of following the path of his veins. “Monday. Are you going to cancel again?” And the response came immediately, stated as a fact of existence itself.

“So long as you’ll be the one there.”

Rook’s mouth upturned, more honestly this time. “Of course I’ll be there. I’m a professional.” The joke came out more somber than she meant it. Emmrich fought the urge to wrap his arms around her… He let go, letting his hand fall back to his side. Monday seemed like centuries away. But he could wait. Perhaps he needed to take the time to set everything straight too. Because he knew she was right, and being reasonable. If they were meant to figure out what was being stitched between them, and she seemed equally as unsure as him for once, then first they’d need to make the room stop spinning. He needed that.

She began stuffing her cardigan into her bag, phone still in hand and begging for her attention. Another candy came out with her hand and she sheepishly tried to hide it. Emmrich saw it anyway, choosing not to point out how she had just finished one because now he understood that better as well.

“Promise?” Rook repeated as she made her way to the door.

“I swear on my life.” After all, he hadn’t planned on cancelling after tomorrow. But he especially wouldn’t be able to now.

Emmrich wanted to follow. He found that there were a lot of things he wanted to do while around her, and he never could seem to find the right time to do so. Not yet, but maybe soon. “The roads were slippery, try to be careful on the way home.” One last glance to the room, not at him but at the windows.

Then out the door, wood thudding softly behind her. Even while in a rush, it was easy to blend into the weavings of people. A lot of times it was better to go unnoticed, not every crowd needed to be parted. If she were allowed the opportunity to lie, she’d say the frazzled rhythm she stepped to was to look like everyone else.

High tops hit linoleum, thumped on the damp entryway rug that had a mud caked scarab logo designed into it, then out onto soaked stone. The sharp inhale of cold air and droplets hitting her scalp helped to wake her back up. On the way to her car, Rook kept her head angled low to cover her phone screen. Five messages from Viago now.

‘Didn’t show up for deliveries this morning.’

‘Checked with LT, not there either.’

‘D hasn’t seen him since doing a pick up on Monday.’

‘Can’t get ahold of Jacobus either. It’s been 4 days.’

‘Call me. Now.’

He answered, not even letting it ring twice.

#emmrook #emmrich volkarin #emmrook fanfic #emmrich x rook #mojo writes #mojo checks blood sugar

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