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thoughtfulfiction · 2 days ago

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Stolen Glances

Author’s note: reposting my old work on this side blog! Let me know if you’d like to read a specific one. Thank you for reading!

Warning: alcohol and drinking mentioned

Five days. That wasn’t even a full week. It should be relatively simple. You and your friends were going to spend a few days at the Fern Ridge Reservoir in a luxury home that Justin had rented out for the group. Everyone had their own rooms, the house was massive and you’d get to relax off the grid and recharge your batteries. There was relatively nothing to complain about.

“So…are you going to tell Justin you’re into him yet or just keep torturing yourself?” Your friend Bree asks, snapping you out of your daydream, carrying her bags to the car. The two of you had flown into Oregon from LA and were driving to the lake with Charlie and Tate, two of Justin’s friends that had really become like family to you in the last few years.

“She’s more likely to admit her feelings when she’s dead.” Tate scoffs while grabbing your backpack and shoving it in the trunk. “I want to have faith in you kid but, I just don’t know if you’ve got it in you right now.”

Charlie walks out of his house and hands you your water bottle, “you can tell him when you’re ready. Don’t listen to them, they're just impatient. Like five year olds who keep asking their mom to buy them McDonald’s on the way home.”

You simply nodded, staring daggers at your friends after Charlie came in and defended you. He hopped in the driver’s seat while Bree and Tate sat in the back. Looking out the window, you let your mind roam, both excited and nervous for what this little trip had in store.

It really wasn’t your fault, falling for him was like waking up on the couch with the tv on and not even remembering that you fell asleep. One day he was a good friend, a friend who you met years ago when he was a rookie living in a frat house in Costa Mesa. Then, somewhere along the way you fell for his unwavering kindness and his sense of humor. Or maybe it was the way the corner of his mouth tilts up sometimes in a side grin. Or his ability to always look like he just rolled out of bed but somehow still looked extremely put together. Everything about Justin, especially the little things, made you want him more. You just couldn’t bring yourself to tell him that. Admitting your feelings would just complicate things. And what if he didn’t even feel the same way? The thought of listening to him let you down easy while trying to spare you the embarrassment really just made you want to crawl into a hole on the side of the road and never come out.

So yes, long story short, these so-called “feelings?” You had no choice but to take them to the grave.

“Can we just have a nice relaxing weekend and enjoy ourselves? We can leave the drama and whatever else for when we get back to California, please.”

They simply nodded and you caught Tate and Bree sharing a look but you didn’t want to even think about what that could mean for you, instead deciding to focus on the scenery for another 20 minutes before the house came into view. Charlie started honking as soon as he pulled into the driveway and Gabe came running out, pulling you in for a hug.

“Hey neighbor.” He mutters out, giving you a squeeze.

“We haven’t lived next to each other in four years, Gabe.”

“Best year of my life honestly. I don’t think I’ve had more junk food…ever.”

Bree comes up behind the two of you and gets a hug of her own. “That’s because you and Nabers here kept suggesting pizza and ice cream nights. When y/n told me some NFL guys moved in next door I thought we’d be seeing more vegetables and less Oreos but it really was the best time.”

The guys unloaded all the bags from the car while you and Bree caught up with Gabe’s girlfriend Jordan. She informed you that Justin had gone out to get groceries with one of her good friends that she brought with her.

“Katie just thinks Justin is the sweetest thing ever so I figured why not introduce them. I’m tired of watching her drool over his old Instagram pictures. Hoping to play Cupid this weekend.” She jokes and you force out a small laugh, feeling your stomach turn at what this girl could possibly look like.

An hour later Bree rushes into your room and closes the door behind her after everyone has finally met and introduced themselves. “I know you said no drama but—”

“Nope, I don’t wanna hear it,” you interrupt her while you unpack your bag. “We are in a freaking mansion, on the water. Let’s focus on that!”

“Or…” she sits on the bed, completely interrupting your flow. “We could just acknowledge the fact that she took the room right next to Justin’s after knowing him for approximately two seconds. And she looks like the second coming of Candice Swanepoel. I mean, it’s kind of unfair,” she huffs.

You shake your head with a laugh. “She’s gorgeous, it’s pretty unreal. And definitely unfair. But we are going to focus on other things like having fun, enjoying the weather and spending quality time with our friends. Maybe have a couple strawberry margaritas with sugar on the rim. And we will be nice to Katie, even if she does look like an OG Victoria secret model before SavagexFenty kicked them to the curb. We will be welcoming and nice.”

She looks up at the ceiling like she can’t hear you and then back at you to face your pointed look, warning her to be on her best behavior. “Fine. I will be nice to Candice Jr.”

“Thank you.” You roll your eyes and pat her on the back.

Justin suggested riding jet skis which sounded amazing until Katie said she’d just finished touching up her makeup. Bree was about to make a snide comment but you elbowed her in the side before she could get the words out. Gabe and Jordan were taking a nap and Charlie was on the phone with one of the parents of the high school team he was coaching so you, Bree, Tate and Justin headed out after changing into your swimsuits.

Everyone found a life jacket that fit them just right and you hopped onto the back of Justin’s jet ski.

“Please promise me you won’t drive this thing like a grandma. I’m here for a good time, not a long time.” You joke, grabbing onto his waist. His laugh vibrates against you and you bite back a smile. He takes off and the two of you bounce against the water leaving you holding on for dear life. After a few minutes, you get used to it and it honestly feels freeing, just you and him out on the open water, taking a tour of the homes that are a little ways away until he stops at a man made cave, far away from any prying eyes.

“What are you doing?” You ask, feeling your heartbeat in your ears. Even in the shade, the reflection of the water hitting his eyes made you feel insane. And you couldn’t stop looking at him if you tried, not that you were trying very hard in the first place.

“Have you ever driven a jet ski before?” You shake your head no and he motions for you to switch spots with him. He leans over you to show you where the on switch is and how to work the speed and the brake, curving his hands over yours on the handles.

The smile that is threatening to take over your face is too much, so you settle for a joke. “You, Justin Herbert, giving up…control? This is a moment in history.”

“Just drive,” his cheeks heat up, turning a light shade of pink, “and try to get us back to the house in one piece, please.” You may or may not have driven as fast as you could with a few extra turns just to feel his body against yours for a little bit longer.

Although the afternoon was a victory, the evening brought you right back to reality. Katie had practically been glued to his side ever since you came back to the house. She sat next to him at dinner and practically jumped into the loveseat after he sat down for movie night. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes and walked into the kitchen to grab some kettle corn, taking your time in the kitchen before eventually making your way back to your seat. Luckily it was a movie you’d seen a dozen times so you weren’t missing anything. If anything, the movie in front of you was nothing compared to the horror film to your right, so Charlie cracked a joke to get you out of your head. Justin was so focused on watching his friend make you laugh that he didn’t even realize that Katie had fallen asleep on his shoulder, holding onto his arm like it was her personal body pillow. You caught a glimpse of the domestic scene that looked straight out of a romcom and it almost made you want to call it a night right then and there. But you sat through it and watched some random girl cozy up to the man you’d had serious feelings for…for the last year.

The next morning, you woke up later than usual. Truth was, you hadn’t gotten much sleep since you were thinking about Justin and Katie all night and you needed something else to focus on. You walked into the bathroom you were sharing with Bree to brush your teeth and get ready for the day.

When you swung the door open you froze, staring for a brief moment before covering your eyes. “Um—I’m so sorry I had no idea you were in here! Why, why are you in here? Doesn’t the master bedroom have a bathroom attached?”

Justin quickly covered up, grabbing his towel and wrapping it around his waist. “Bree liked the mirror in my bathroom so I let her use it. I thought the door was locked, how did you get in?”

“The lock is broken, Bree didn’t tell you that?”

He lets out a nervous laugh, “she may have neglected to mention that.” You were going to kill her.

“I’m gonna—I’m gonna go. So sorry again for the—you know what? I’m just gonna leave and we can act like this didn’t happen.” You close the door before he can utter a word and you head back to your room, silently praying that no one finds out about this.

He couldn’t take it anymore. You were avoiding him like the plague the entire day. Since the morning you’d hardly looked at him, even when he pulled you aside to assure you that your little encounter this morning, although awkward, was totally fine. He even sat through watching you and Charlie go tubing together and share a pizza at lunch, but his final straw was when he saw you taking a nap together in Charlie’s bed with the tv playing. The two of you had always been close but the quarterback couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that something more was going on and he didn’t like it. This trip was supposed to be about him getting to spend some quality time with you before training camp and Charlie knew that. Nothing was going according to plan and Justin knew he had to do something about it.

He rushed to get ready for dinner and let out a sigh of relief when he found you in the kitchen. “I know it’s none of my business but, is there something going on with you and Charlie?”

You took a big breath, not exactly ready to have this conversation and yet here you were. “No,” you state blankly, “there’s nothing going on between Charlie and I.”

“Then what’s going on? You’ve barely said two words to me all day so there has to be a problem.” Justin knew he had no right to be jealous, especially of one of his best friends but something was just nagging at him to keep asking questions. It was like word vomit and he couldn’t stop.

“Why are we even talking about this right now? It’s really not a big deal Justin, seriously, just let it go please.”

He clearly wasn’t having your attempts to dodge him. “No! I'm not going to let it go until you tell me. I mean, if this is about this morning I thought we handled that.” You don’t miss the subtle clench in his jaw. His patience is quickly running out and you really don’t get why this has him so worked up. Possibly because you’re so focused on your own rollercoaster of emotions.

“It’s not about this morning!” You blurt out. He was backing you into a corner, literally.

His pleading eyes were begging you to talk to him. “Then what is it about?”

“You! It’s about you. How I feel about you is a problem. It is THE problem, okay?” You shake your head, mentally shutting down at the look on his face. There it was, that horrible look you wished you’d never see…pity. Honestly? It looked worse in real life than it ever had in your nightmares and the sigh he gave you afterwards was just the icing on the humiliation cake.

“Y/n, I—”

“Are you guys ready to head out for dinner?” Gabe pops his head in, catching an immediate whiff of the uncomfortable air in the room. “Uh sorry. Was I interrupting something?”

“No.” You fold your arms across your chest, creating a physical and emotional barrier between the two of you.

“Yes,” Justin says at the same time, furrowing his eyebrows and giving you a sideways glance, his gaze softening at your watery eyes.

“You didn’t interrupt anything,” you huff out with a sniff, after a quick swipe under your eye you step around the man who was whispering for you to wait. You ignored him and kept moving your way out of the house, sliding into the car without turning back. Charlie took one look at you and asked if everything was okay but you really weren’t sure how to answer. How you were really feeling would surely bring you to tears and you really didn’t feel like crying in a car full of people.

That evening, your phone lit up as you sat motionless in your bed, contemplating going home the next morning. Of course it was a text from Justin.

I know you’re awake, I can’t sleep either. Can we please talk?

You texted him back a simple “fine” and there were two tiny knocks on your door less than a minute later. He was probably standing outside your room door when he texted.

“We didn’t get to finish our conversation earlier.” His voice is even deeper due to the exhaustion. You didn’t even think that was possible.

“I said everything I needed to,” you say with a casual shrug.

“Well good because I need you to listen,” Justin closes the door behind him and takes in a breath. “You’re one of my best friends…”

“Oh god please. You don’t have to let me down gently. I’m a big girl I can—”

“I’m not done. And I’m not—I’m not letting you down gently. I’m not letting you down at all. You have been one of the most consistently good things in my life and somewhere along the way you became a lot more than consistency. You’ve become somewhat of a necessity, an essential part of my life that I don’t think I can or want to live without.” He sighs, running a hand over his face with a sigh and you just stand there, limbs shaking in anticipation, waiting for him to get to his main point.

Justin closes his eyes, visibly collecting himself and his thoughts. “What I’m trying to say is that you aren’t the only one with feelings here. And that your feelings? They aren’t a problem.”

“You—you mean that you share the…you like me too?” You laugh a little, in complete disbelief.

He steps toward you, nodding with a smile of his own. “I really like you.”

“Wait…but what about Cand—Katie? She’s gorgeous, fun and is super into you. Plus she looks borderline perfect in the morning from what I gathered. I’m pretty sure I drool in my sleep sometimes and I have eye boogers.”

That really sends him over the edge and he covers his mouth to stifle a laugh. “It’s a good thing I love eye boogers, they’re my favorite.”

You smack his chest at the playful joke and his energy pulls you in, pressing your bodies together like magnets. And right there you feel like a kid again, standing next to your crush with your heart racing. He leans down and his lips brush against yours and he asks if this is okay, causing you to nod because obviously you want this with him, and more. Your lips fit together seamlessly and he tilts your head up by lightly cupping your face, running his thumb across the length of your jaw while deepening the kiss. Your entire body is covered in goosebumps even though the kiss is so soft and gentle. He pulls away slightly, pecking your lips after he takes a second as to not rush into things too quickly, waiting too long to ruin the moment. Pure bliss coats all of his senses as he begins peppering your face with more feathery kisses, silently willing himself to always remember the softness of your skin and how amazing it feels to finally be this close.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to do that,” the grin he’s sporting is taking over his entire being and before you can respond he’s kissing you again. You happily oblige, smiling against his lips with a satisfied hum.

The next morning you were pretty sure you were still smiling. You woke up feeling super comfortable, turning around to catch a glimpse of him, thinking about pinching yourself to make sure this was real. He looks so peaceful, his clothed chest moving up and down rhythmically, a slight pout on his face. You can’t help but run your fingers through his hair, smiling to yourself once again when he begins to stir in his sleep. With his eyes still closed, he pulls you into his arms, lazily kissing you like he’s been doing this for years.

“Good morning,” he whispers, his eyes finally open, looking alert and bright.

“Good morning, I cannot believe you practically tackled me first thing in the morning. I probably have morning breath.”

“You don’t and even if you did, I wouldn’t care. And you don’t have eye boogers or drool on your face, you look really good first thing in the morning. The most incredible sight to wake up to.” You want to kiss him again but you decide it’s best to hold off, leaning over to check the time on his phone. “It’s 5am, you should probably head back to your room before everyone wakes up and this turns into a CIA interrogation.”

He chuckles, kissing your forehead before he gets up to stretch out his limbs. “We have all the time in the world to figure this out when we get back to LA, keeping this between us is probably our best bet for now. I do not want to hear all of Tate’s questions. And Gabe would be even worse, he’s been telling me to do this for years.”

You tilt your head towards him and whisper yell, “you’ve thought about this for years and didn’t say anything?”

“Yeah, you’re not the only one who was helplessly pining over someone and refused to say anything about their feelings out of fear of rejection. I was scared too. And now I’m not. Now, I’m going to head back to my bed and count down the minutes until I get to kiss you again.”

You shake your head, laying back down ready for your second round of sleep. “You’re a dork.”

“I am. And that is your favorite thing about me. Get some sleep, I’ll see you in a few hours.”

Waking up again around 8:30, you realize that skipping out on dinner last night has come back to haunt you. Gingerly walking down the stairs as to not wake anyone up, you tip toe into the kitchen quietly, only to find Katie already up and pouring a glass of orange juice.

“Good morning,” she sings, looking bright and cheery. Maybe in another life she was Giselle from Enchanted because she could definitely be some sort of Disney princess. “I’m so glad you’re awake because I need some advice. Do you think Justin would want pancakes or waffles? I wanna surprise him with this breakfast tray and I just want everything to look right you know? So what do you think?”

I think his tongue was practically down my throat last night and he’d probably want to have me for breakfast but I can’t say any of that. “Um let’s see. Definitely pancakes and skip out on the orange juice cause he’ll probably want some coffee.” As painful as it is to help her, you know this small sacrifice will pay off. You’ve basically already got the guy, there’s no use in rubbing it in the poor girl’s face when you won’t be seeing her anymore two days from now.

Katie nods excitedly, prepping her pancake batter and thanking you several times. You settle for a bagel with cream cheese and head back upstairs to get ready for the day. The afternoon isn’t very eventful, you realize that the guys had already left for a fishing expedition earlier in the morning so Katie’s breakfast was cold by the time Justin got back. He looked at you hesitantly, waiting for you to nod your head before he thanked her and tossed the food in the microwave. Jordan suggested the group go out to a bar/club that night since you and Bree had been mentioning these famous strawberry margaritas since the day you arrived.

The music was loud as soon as you walked in. Gabe ordered the first round of drinks and you snuck out of the booth to reapply some mascara while the other girls browsed the marg menu. A knock on the door startles you into dropping your makeup in the sink.

“Occupied!” You yell out.

“It’s me.” Smiling to yourself at the familiar voice, you lock the door behind you when Justin walks in.

“Hi.”

Your face is in his hands with the mascara long forgotten as he softly says “c’mere,” leaning down to capture your lips with your back still against the door. He tastes like the shot of Don Julio you all just took and a little bit of mint. Your hand is in his hair again, pulling it ever so slightly so you are still as close to him as humanly possible without standing on your toes. Justin knows you both have to be back soon before anyone notices but the thought of your body not being practically glued to his makes him really want to go home. The kiss today is sloppier than last night, there’s more urgency, more fire. Neither of you thought it could get better but your hands are all over each other, your arms struggling to wrap itself around his bicep and at some point he had a handful of your ass. Not that you were complaining.

The kiss leaves you breathless, letting out a soft laugh as you pat him on the chest. “We should stop. I don’t want to but, we have to unfortunately.”

His lips curl into a small frown, almost a pout and you are seconds away from kissing him again. “I know. You should go first and I’ll be right out. Definitely need to splash some cold water on my face or something, I need a minute.”

Nodding your head in understanding, you step out to give him some space, but not before he grabs your hand and kisses the inside of your wrist.

An hour later you’re two margs and two shots in. Katie has been hanging all over Justin as soon as he got back from the bathroom and it’s taking everything in you to prevent yourself from yelling at her to get her hands off of him. And bless his heart he really is trying to keep his distance, catching your eye with an apologetic look every time she finds her way next to him again but it’s really getting exhausting.

“We should go dance!” Bree exclaims, snapping you out of your jealous rage. You nod immediately, desperate to look at anything other than what is happening at your table.

🎶H-O-T-T-O-G-O

Snap and clap and touch your toes

Raise your hands, now body roll

Dance it out, you're hot to go

H-O-T-T-O-G-O

Snap and clap and touch your toes

Raise your hands, now body roll

H-O-T-T-O-G-O🎶

You found yourself singing your heart out with not only Bree but some guys that also knew every word to the song. Getting lost in the moment and also not being remotely close to being sober you danced, letting him grab your hand and spin you around as Chappell Roan continued to play.

“I’m Matt,” the stranger tells you when the song is finished.

You hold your hand out, “y/n. You’re not a bad duet partner Matt.”

“You’re not so bad yourself,” he laughs, still holding onto you.

An awkward silences washes over the moment when you begin to sober up a bit and pull your hand back. “I need to grab some water, excuse me.”

“Hello! Earth to y/n! That guy was cute and totally into you. What the hell is your problem?” Bree lectures you as you sit at the bar.

He’s cute but he’s not Justin, you think to yourself. “I just needed a drink that was a lot of dancing and it’s hot out there.”

Your excuse is pointless because you feel a presence behind you. “Can I get three waters please?”

Bree looks at Matt, thanking him and grabbing her water bottle to give you some privacy. He settles in the bar stool next to you and slides the water in your direction. “Are you from here? Because I’d remember a face like that walking around.”

The sentiment would usually make you feel good but now you just wished a certain someone was giving you flirty compliments. “I’m only here for a few more days unfortunately. Then it’s back to real life.”

“Well maybe I could convince you to come back? Make this some sort of regular thing? Us seeing each other?”

Back at the table, Justin was staring daggers at the bar area. As soon as Bree sat down without you, Tate asked where you were.

“Attagirl.” The football player heard his friend say and he moved around in his seat to get release the building tension in his shoulders. Katie was next to him saying something but all he could focus on was how close this guy was sitting next to you. Did the chairs really need to be that close?

“Bro, Justin.“ Charlie snaps in his face.

“What?” His tone was a bit more aggressive and irate than he intended but he couldn’t help it.

“If you hold that bottle any tighter you’re gonna shatter the glass man.”

He hadn’t even noticed he was treating the Nectarine Premiere bottle like it was a stress ball. The man slid it away from him on the table, turning his gaze back to the bar. You were laughing at something the guy was saying and the way the guy was looking at you was eating him alive.

Katie placed her hand on his thigh and kept going with her story that she’d been telling. Justin couldn’t take it anymore.

He plucked her hand off of him and got up when he saw you and the guy heading outside. “Excuse me.” The group watched him take several long strides until he was out the door.

Matt looks up with his mouth open as soon as Justin comes into view. “Dude, you’re Justin Herbert! I’m a huge fan man I bought your jersey last year. Wear it every Sunday.”

“It’s uh—it’s nice to meet you…”

“Oh it’s Matt.”

“Matt,” he says slowly trying to get rid of the bitterness in his voice but it doesn’t go unnoticed by you. Matt is too busy being a fanboy to see that anything is wrong. They take a selfie and Justin sends him on his way, the fan now too excited to have remembered he was trying to get your number.

Justin blows out a breath, staring at you until he hears you laugh. “This isn’t funny,” he groans.

“On the contrary, it’s hilarious. I’ve had to deal with it for the last three days. You didn’t even last an hour before running over here and putting a stop to it.”

“I didn’t run,” he counters, “I walked—very quickly. Not my fault I have long legs.”

You take a sip of your water. “Sure. Now how are you going to get yourself out of this? We said we weren’t going to tell them until we talked about what this is.”

“We did say that but I know what this is. I want to be with you. I want to kiss you, hold your hand, dance with you. I want…I want us to be together. That was the whole point of this trip.”

Furrowing your eyebrows, you urge him to explain. “I told Charlie I was ready. Planned this entire getaway to have one last trip before camp but I also didn’t want to leave again without telling you how I feel. What better place to tell someone you love them than at the lake?”

“You love me?”

He grabs your hand, feeling a sudden need for you to anchor him to the ground. “I love everything about you. I’m just sorry it took me this long to tell you the truth.”

“Better late than never. I love you too, a lot.”

He smiles again, a weight lifted off of him that he’d been carrying for quite some time. Justin is so happy that he doesn’t think he’s capable of words right now.

“Come here,” you tell him and he immediately closes any distance between you.

You give him a slow kiss, knowing you have all the time in the world to get to be with him.

Until a knock on the window startles you apart.

“I FREAKING KNEW IT!” Bree yells.

“Finally.” Charlie says shaking his head.

Justin rests his forehead against yours, too far gone to even care about PDA. He’d deal with the consequences later. “Do we have to go back in there and answer all their questions?”

“I think I’m gonna need one more kiss before we go,” you whisper.

Your brand new boyfriend nods in excitement, leaning in immediately. “Yes ma’am.”

#justin herbert #justin herbert imagine #justin herbert x reader #justin herbert fanfic

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selunesdreams · 2 days ago

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Chapter 6: Dead Crow Do Not Eat

“Take me with you. I need to work, Rook.” He caught her by the arm. “We have a contract. Use me.” “Trust me, you wouldn’t want to know what happens to people when I use them.” She moved closer, trailing a finger up his arm. He stepped backwards, releasing his hold on her with a groan. “Teia is a bad influence on you. You were never this much of a flirt before. I can’t even have a conversation with you.” “I’ve barely seen Teia in the last year.” Rook placed her hands on her hips. “Did Viago send you to nag at me in his place?” “No. You’re just…not the Fiammetta I remember.” He said and glanced to the side. Rook arched an eyebrow. “You used my name.” “You asked me to.” Her gaze lingered before shifting to the schools of fish in the meditation chamber’s window. “Neve and I are going to Dock Town to meet with the Threads. You can join us.” Her arms fell to her sides. “We leave in ten.” She leaned in to murmur in his ear as she walked by. “And don’t pretend the change isn’t working in your favor.”

Pairing: Lucanis x Fem Rook/OFC x Spite???

Summary: Rook has a busy week, a run-in with an old hookup, and a really, really bad dream.

Word Count: 4.1k

Things of note/warnings: 18+ fic, MDNI! warnings: blood, graphic depictions of bodily mutilation/murder, dead animals. Please read on AO3 if you need to track warnings, they will be inevitably detailed better there (or just want to be real sweet and give me hits/kudos/comments).

─── ⊹⊱♤⊰⊹ ───

Neve’s demeanor softened as the days went on. Unsure if it was duty or guilt driving her, Rook dedicated much of her time to helping out in Dock Town, which incidentally provided a good excuse to avoid Lucanis. Even better, when a letter from Viago arrived requesting assistance in Treviso on several matters, she sent the Demon of Vyrantium in her stead. He could live up to her cousin’s standards.

Soon, Rook found herself in high demand. Davrin’s invitation for her to train in the Arlathan Forest with him and Assan turned into a much needed reprieve. Later, she accompanied Harding and Taash into the Deep Roads to seek out a better understanding of Lace’s newfound power. Unfortunately, they ended up fighting an animated assembly of rocks and getting vague riddles from an ancient stone.

Wardens Evka and Antoine summoned Rook to inform her of new blight-related developments in the Hossberg Wetlands, but the First Warden cut her visit short. Upon returning to the Lighthouse, Emmrich requested she and Bellara’s company investigating the curiously named “Hand of Glory”, only to find an old colleague abusing the living and the dead. Dejected, he spent the next several days in his chambers, but Rook was able to cheer him up by accompanying him and Manfred on a graveyard stroll. It seemed to, for lack of a better term, lift his spirits.

Exhausted from her endeavors, Rook returned to the meditation chamber, propping her staff against the wall and depositing her bag next to the wardrobe.

“Don’t tell me you’ve spent so much time away from the Crows that you’ve forgotten to check a room when you enter it, Rook.”

Startled, she looked down to find Lucanis sprawled across the chaise, his arm propped behind his head. He shifted into a sitting position, leaning forward.

“Viago would have a fit if he knew you were taking necromancy lessons.”

“We lit candles and laid flowers on graves, Lucanis.” She rummaged through her pack, setting aside a few parcels. Gifts for Davrin and Neve.

“Did you tire of the pantry? Certainly the Lighthouse could conjure you a new dwelling place outside of my chambers.”

He rose to his feet, following her as she wandered around the room.

“I was checking for those choke points you mentioned.”

Rook’s hand hovered over Varric’s shaving mirror just as she spotted Lucanis’ reflection. He stood behind her, leaning against a bookcase, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips.

Fuck. He was getting good at this. Whatever this was.

“Are we done? I have to be somewhere soon.”

“Take me with you. I need to work, Rook.” He caught her by the arm. “We have a contract. Use me.”

“Trust me, you wouldn’t want to know what happens to people when I use them.” She moved closer, trailing a finger up his arm.

He stepped backwards, releasing his hold on her with a groan. “Teia is a bad influence on you. You were never this much of a flirt before. I can’t even have a conversation with you.”

“I’ve barely seen Teia in the last year.” Rook placed her hands on her hips. “Did Viago send you to nag at me in his place?”

“No. You’re just…not the Fiammetta I remember.” He said and glanced to the side.

Rook arched an eyebrow. “You used my name.”

“You asked me to.”

Her gaze lingered before shifting to the schools of fish in the meditation chamber’s window.

“Neve and I are going to Dock Town to meet with the Threads. You can join us.” Her arms fell to her sides. “We leave in ten.”

She leaned in to murmur in his ear as she walked by.

“And don’t pretend the change isn’t working in your favor.”

─── ⊹⊱♤⊰⊹ ───

Lucanis had always said death was his calling. He just didn’t know Rook would be the cause.

She was playing with him. He knew she was. What he couldn’t figure out was whether it was a game, a defense mechanism, or a way to get him to lower his guard.

He’d never been intimidated by strong women. After all, the Crows wouldn’t function without them.

“Well-positioned seeds, planted subtly and nurtured over time, grow stronger roots,” Caterina had always said. Few men among their ranks, except Viago, had the patience for that level of foresight or strategy.

But romancing strong women…that was a different story. Rather than serious relationships, Lucanis had fumbled through a few short-term romances and casual encounters in his early twenties. He wasn’t like Illario, who could have a different woman in his bed each night. Better to give up on intimacy altogether. Feelings were risky and falling in love got people killed. Being alone was easier when he could find pleasure in little things - coffee, cooking…killing. If he didn’t keep anyone close, it was one less person to worry about, one less distraction from his work.

He settled down beside Rook in their booth at the Cobbled Swan, wincing as he drank coffee that might as well have been brewed in piss.

“So…the Threads and the Shadow Dragons working together.” She said, “how do we feel about that?”

“It’s what’s best for Dock Town.” Neve replied, “I saved their leader, Damas, last week. They have just as much motivation to take out the Venatori as we do - and they owe me one.”

Rook tensed beside him and Lucanis looked up, following her gaze towards a tall, fair-haired man, likely in his mid-30s, walking in. Well dressed, he walked with an air that made it clear he considered himself important. Accompanying him was a younger, shorter man with enough resemblance to Illario that Lucanis stiffened in surprise.

“Shit.” Rook whispered, her eyes glued to them as they approached.

“Trouble?” Neve asked.

“Well…”

“Dock Town’s protectors, at your service,” the tall one confidently eased himself into his seat across from them. “What can the Threads do for…” He paused, brow furrowing as he gave Rook a once over.

“What are you doing here?”

“SMELLS LIKE SMOKEPOWDER AND AROUSAL-”

Arms crossed over his chest, Lucanis grimaced and turned his head to the side, trying to keep Spite in check.

“Makal Damas? You said you were a Shadow Dragon.” Rook said, “Not the leader of the Threads.”

“And you said you were an Antivan Crow. I thought we were having a little fun lying.”

“She is a Crow.” Neve said dryly.

“ You’re the Rook everyone’s making such a fuss about?” Damas asked, leaning back in his chair with a smirk.

“Anyone care to explain what’s going on?” Neve asked.

“Rook and I have a little history, that’s all.” He took a swig from his stein. “Well, at least we can skip half the introductions. This is Elek Tavor, my second in command.”

Elek looked up from tracing the rim of his drink and nodded.

“And you’re the infamous mage-killer?” Damas asked Lucanis.

“Something like that.” he leaned over Rook to trade his coffee for a bottle of wine at the end of the table.

“I’ve got names of missing people, including those hardly anyone noticed yet,” Elek interjected, eager to change the topic. “All yours. No catch.”

“No catch? Now that’s friendship.” Neve said.

“Consider it a personal favor, if you want,” Damas purred.

“The Venatori are getting too confident.” Elek continued, “We’ll increase our odds of getting them out of our streets if we work together.”

“You seem tough enough on your own,” Lucanis said. “Why do you need us?”

“I get my knuckles bloody from time to time. But if you haven’t noticed, there’s a lot going on. Those blood mages walked into this bar and abducted me .” Damas stuck his finger into his chest. “I’d like to correct that. The Threads are better neighbors than the Venatori, don’t you think?”

“They are,” Neve chimed in. “Let’s speak candidly, then. Aelia’s a pain for both of us. I want her dead.”

“Okay. Then we both hunt for Aelia.” Damas said. “You find her, you kill her. We find her? We’ll do the same. Dock Town is ours .” He leaned forward in his seat, lowering his voice. “But I’m open to sharing, Rook. Bear that in mind.”

“So generous. I’ll remember that when I put all this on your tab.”

“I knew I liked you.” Damas rose from his chair. “We’ll keep you posted.” He said to Neve and left for the door with Elek.

Neve’s head snapped towards Rook once they were out of sight. “When did you sleep with the head of the Threads? ”

“Give me a break. It was like a year ago and if I had any idea who he was - or how bad it would be -“

“ YOU COULD SHOW HER SOMETHING BETTER, LUCANIS.”

Lucanis choked on his wine, quickly clearing his throat to cover it up, and stood abruptly from the table.

“I’m going back to the Lighthouse. Next time you bring me along, make sure there’s something for me to kill.”

─── ⊹⊱♤⊰⊹ ───

As she ascended the steps to her chamber, all Rook wanted was a nap. When Davrin came running after her, she knew it wasn’t happening.

“Rook,” Davrin panted, bending over to catch his breath, “the First Warden is summoning everyone back to Weisshaupt. Word of darkspawn hordes on the move, and an archdemon with them.”

“Fuck,” her hand instinctively reaching up to rub her tired eyes. “How much time do we have?”

“A day, a week? We’re going in blind, though. We need to know what we’re up against.”

The possibility of sleep now seemed distant and trivial, as guilt gnawed at her conscience. Was she so selfish that she could think about sleeping at a time like this?

“I’ll talk to Solas. Make sure the others are ready to move.”

No longer eager to return to her quarters, she begrudgingly shoved the doors open. Conversations with the Dread Wolf were rarely enjoyable.

With a lazy flick of her wrist, ignited a row of candles on the ancient altar in front of the window and knelt before them. Eyes closed, she drew focus, her consciousness wandering from her body, searching the Fade for Solas’ prison.

“How fares your battle?”

She opened her eyes with a start. The sight before her was bleak and colorless, a barren expanse stretching into infinity.

“The gods are moving against Weisshaupt and the Grey Wardens. I have little time. There are rumors of an archdemon involved. I need to know how to deal with them.”

Solas clasped his hands behind his back and paced, as if searching the ground beneath his feet for answers. “How are the Grey Wardens? Do they understand the danger they’re in yet?”

“Some. The First Warden is completely in denial, though. That…complicates things.”

Solas halted, his gaze piercing through her, his demeanor growing more serious. “To defeat Elgar’nan and Ghilan’nain, you must unite the Wardens under your banner. How will you bring them to your side?”

“Seems I need to get around the First. Easy. Make him lose credibility. Classic political destabilization.”

“Spoken like an Antivan Crow.” Solas’ voice carried a hint of ambiguity that made it difficult for Rook to decipher whether he was praising or criticizing her.

“There never were Tevinter gods. The archdemons, as you call them, are weapons of the Evanuris. To harm them, you must first defeat their life force - the dragon thralls. And even with their dragons dead, they’ll be difficult to defeat.”

As Rook absorbed Solas’ revelations, her heart raced, its pounding echoing in her ears. “So what do I do?”

“Use my dagger. The one you recovered. It can pierce their enchantments and strike them down.”

“Got it,” Rook said, turning on her heel, eager to leave.

“You’re going in too fast! Take a moment. Remember what is at risk!”

She whirled around.

“I know exactly what is at risk!” she pointed at her chest. “That dragon could have leveled my city! Killed my family!”

“Yes. Good. Hold on to that. Remember the loss you have already survived. You will endure more, but your motivation to prevent it at any cost will keep you on the right path.”

Rook scoffed. “You’re sick.”

“And you’re tired. Perhaps you need some rest. A moment to remember…”

As Solas faded away, the meditation room came back into view. Rook let out a long sigh and laid her head on the seat of the chaise. What the fuck was the Dread Wolf even talking about? Always lessons in everything. He was just as bad as Varric, as her father…

Exhaustion overwhelmed her, making her eyelids heavy and her limbs weak, a weariness that seeped into her very bones. A planned moment of focused breathing, meant to center herself, stretched into minutes, then…

Nothing.

─── ⊹⊱♤⊰⊹ ───

Fiamma woke to a noise coming from the den and jolted upright in bed. She and her father’s small apartment carried sound through every wall, and she was certain if she’d noticed it, he was already investigating.

When little flames are scared, they should be neither seen nor heard.

With caution, she slipped her hand between her mattress and the bed frame, retrieving the encircled blade she’d gotten for her 17th birthday from Viago just days ago. She crept towards the door, carefully opening it a crack, and peered through the darkness, her eyes straining to see.

“I’ll give you a chance to leave my home, without consequence, but you must go now .” Her father growled from the kitchen. Fiamma peered around the corner, discovering him with his blade drawn, defensively poised and ready for a fight. She knew if she weren’t here, he’d have already engaged.

He was buying her time.

The intruder was facing away from her, and in the dim light filtering from the windows, she could see the glint of her father’s eyes as they met hers.

“You’re a Crow, no? Did someone put a contract on me? Surely my nephew, Viago, doesn’t think I’m a threat to him becoming Talon…”

Still buying time, but also providing thinly veiled directions. Fiamma read between the lines.

Get out. Get help. Get Viago.

She nodded in the dark and retreated to her room. The instant she shut her door behind her, she heard pots and pans flying, kitchen cabinets being thrown open, blows exchanged. Her movements were controlled and calm as she slipped a cloak over her nightgown and pulled on her boots. Unlatching her window, she crawled on top of her dresser and outside to the roof.

This wasn’t their first break-in, or assassination attempt. Her father would be fine. She was simply leaving to give him peace of mind and fetch a cleanup crew.

She navigated the rooftops to Viago’s, a short, five-minute walk, and jumped several feet over a gap in houses, aiming for his balcony. Missing just by inches, she caught herself on the railing, clinging to the rungs. She hoisted herself up, feeling the strain in her muscles as she flopped down onto the balcony stomach-first.

As she got up and brushed herself off, she caught sight of her cousin approaching, knife in hand, lowering it when he spotted her. With him was Illario Dellamorte, who he’d adopted as some sort of mentee. The boys always seemed to stick together. It was fine. She had Teia and her father. She’d kick their asses someday.

Viago had taken contracts as soon as Caterina had allowed him to, and it wasn’t long before he’d amassed a small fortune for himself. He was a talented assassin. Incredible with poisons, not too bad with a blade either. Aunt Viama had married a few years back and settled down just outside of Treviso, so he’d purchased this apartment for himself as a reward for his efforts, deciding it was time for him to branch out on his own.

“I’ve told you Fiamma.” Viago said through the glass, unlocking several deadbolts. “Use the front door.”

“The streets might not be safe. Someone broke into our house.” She said, as if reciting something she’d memorized. Everything felt slow, disjointed.

“What?” Illario blurted.

“It was a Crow. My father’s holding him off in the kitchen. He’ll probably have handled it by the time we get back, but there could be others…”

“Right. Let’s go,” Viago said, leaping over his balcony railing to the neighboring roof with ease. Fiamma followed, successfully making the jump this time, with Illario trailing close behind.

“Taking a contract on the Flame of Treviso. Fools.” He mumbled. “I’d like to know what idiot would even put one out.”

“If it’s really a contract, it’s not sanctioned by Caterina or any of the Talons, to my knowledge.” Viago said, “Your father isn’t interested in Talon, so it can’t be anyone fearing competition..”

As they reached the apartment, Fiamma nudged her window pane and slid her curtains aside. Before she could step through, Viago held his hand out, entering first. Illario ducked in after him, holding out his hand to Fiamma. His arms were warm, a reassuring sense of security as he guided her down from atop the dresser.

The house was silent, still dark. A knot wound itself tightly in Fiamma’s stomach.

Something was wrong.

Viago motioned for them to stay back, slowly opening her bedroom door and creeping into the hall. The floorboards creaked slightly beneath his weight, likely intentionally on his part, as he tried to draw out the intruder. Illario’s arm snaked tightly around Fiamma’s waist, his shortsword drawn as they followed, shattered glass and splintered wood crunching beneath their boots.

The kitchen was a disaster, but noticeably empty. It wasn’t until Fiamma turned around to face the den that she stepped in something wet. Her breathing became shallow as she waved her hand to ignite a candle, but her nerves made her magic unstable, lighting every source of light in the apartment.

The three of them squinted, eyes adjusting to the overwhelming brightness, before Fiamma’s legs gave way beneath her. Illario clung tightly to her as she fell to the floor with a single, devastated sob, burying her face in his shoulder.

Dante De Riva’s lifeless body was slumped against the fireplace, a dead crow stuffed where his head should have been. His body was drenched in blood, the wedding band still on his left hand gleaming in the light through streaks of crimson.

This wasn’t a clean job, wasn’t just a contract. It was a butchering.

Viago crouched beside the body, elbows on his knees, and lowered his head.

“Get her out of here, Illario.” He said, his tone void of emotion as he looked around for clues. This was future Talon, Viago. Not a grieving nephew. “Send Caterina and Lucanis back. Take major streets, stay out of the shadows.”

Illario nodded, his grip on Fiamma tightening as he lifted her off the floor. Her chest heaved, throat constricting as her gaze fell upon her father’s desecrated corpse again, and he hoisted her into his arms, carrying her out the front door.

“Walk Fiammetta. You have to.”

She shook her head sadly as he set her down outside, tears streaming down her face.

“I promise you, there will be time to grieve later, but now we have to go .” He cupped her face in his hands. “If you think you’re safe out here, weeping in the street, you’re wrong. ”

She sniffed and nodded, and he ran his thumbs over her cheeks, wiping away her tears.

“No one will hurt you. Not while I’m here.”

He took her by the hand and led her through the streets to Caterina’s villa, stopping to glance around corners, fingertips never leaving the hilt of his sword.

The doors of Villa Dellamorte crashed open, making the windows tremble in their frames. Illario let them rattle shut behind him as he guided Fiamma to the couch in the sitting room.

“Mierda, Illario, did you really have to do that?”

His cousin Lucanis appeared in the doorway and paused, his forehead wrinkling as he drew nearer.

“ De Riva? What’s going on?”

Illario looked over his shoulder, exchanging silent words with his cousin. Lucanis looked down at Fiamma, her hands woven through her hair, as she hung her head low, staring at the flames rising in the hearth across from her.

“No…”

“Parents always die, right?” Fiamma asked, raising her head to stare intently at Lucanis. His face twisted in a grimace of guilt and agony, his lips parting slightly.

“And someone always pays.” Illario reassured her through clenched teeth.

“Who is slamming doors in my house!” Caterina shouted as she rounded the corner, her cane knocking against the wood. Her gaze fell upon Fiamma for several seconds, and she glanced between her grandsons in horror.

“Dante?” she breathed. They both nodded solemnly in confirmation.

“How can this be?” Caterina demanded. “Where is Viago?”

“With the body.” Illario said quietly.

Caterina frowned. “Lucanis, go. Stop by the Cantori’s on the way and send Arandrateia here.” She said, “I will meet you at the De Riva’s.”

He departed swiftly, without question.

The First Talon’s obedient little dog.

“Illario, get Fiammetta a change of clothes from the spare room. Mierda…”

Fiamma looked down at herself, finding the lower half of her nightgown drenched in her father’s blood. Following a trail of crimson footsteps, she realized she’d tracked blood across Caterina’s white marble floors.

“These moments define Crows, Fiammetta.” Caterina said. “I have buried my own parents, my children, all but two of my grandchildren. None of them died natural deaths. It does not get easier, but you endure. Or you let it get you killed, too.”

She leaned forward on her cane. The handle featured an intricately carved crow’s head, and Fiamma’s stomach roiled.

“Honor your father in death by not forfeiting your life. Grieve, and then let that fury guide you to survive.”

Caterina rose, placing a hand on Fiamma’s shoulder. “This deed will not go unpunished. The Dellamortes and the De Rivas are strong houses. Us Crows honor our own.” She said, her cane scraping across the floor as she departed.

Bullshit, Fiamma thought to herself, the Crows will slit one another’s throats for a shred of power.

When Illario returned, Fiamma couldn’t find the energy to change into the clean clothes he brought her. She sank to the floor, kneeling on the bearskin rug in front of the fire, wrapping her cloak tightly around her.

Illario set the neatly folded stack of clothes on the couch and joined her. Fiamma turned to her side and rested her head on his lap, staring into the hearth. His fingers hovered for a moment, surprised, before he stroked her hair.

“I will avenge your father’s death, Fiammetta. I swear on my life.”

She didn’t respond. Numbed, she transitioned into a state somewhere between dreaming and disassociation. She didn’t hear the door in the foyer creak open, or the shuffling of feet behind them. Only felt Teia reaching for her hands, squeezing them tightly in her own, caused her to stir from her oblivion.

“Fi…”

Face crumpled in dismay, Teia laid down beside her, and the three clung to one another until sunrise, when Viago and Lucanis returned home, looking nearly as haunted as Fiamma felt.

─── ⊹⊱♤⊰⊹ ───

“Rook? Hey! Rook.”

Davrin banged on her chamber door with his fist again, and her eyes snapped open. Disoriented, she braced herself on the chaise and pushed herself up.

“Coming!”

She blinked rapidly, trying to dismiss the memories and emotions threatening to resurface, and grabbed her things.

“About damn time.” He grumbled as she joined him in the hall.

“How long was I out?” Rook asked, hurrying down the stairs after him.

“I don’t know, but things at Weisshaupt are getting worse. It’s time to go. Hopefully, your Dread Wolf friend had some insight.”

“He’s not my friend. We don’t get tea in his little prison and exchange pleasantries.”

“What do you exchange, then?”

“Information. Verbal jabs, mostly.”

When they arrived in the hall, everyone else was waiting for her command.

“There’s an Eluvian in storage in the vault. It was a gift from the Dalish.” Davrin said.

“Ours should go right to it…probably.” Bellara added.

Rook caught sight of the Crow head buttons sewn into Lucanis’ vest and hesitated, overcome with a desire to pluck each one loose and cast them into the nothingness of the Fade. He took notice of her lingering gaze and furrowed his brow, tilting his head. With a deep breath, she steeled herself and shifted her attention.

“So we sneak into Weisshaupt, nice and quiet, then find Antoine and Evka.”

“Was…there a plan after that?” Neve asked.

“I’m not giving a speech.” Rook muttered, “Let’s go kill a fucking god.”

A/N: Okay well now that you've met Fi's dad...sorry! Lots of building this chapter, next one moves a bit more quickly. Next stop: Weisshaupt, Spite, and brooding. Thanks for the support! It really keeps my head on and me motivated. I appreciate you all soooo much. x

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