#which brings up the question of why is a letter to lucanis even in that room because he says they only lived in the villa until they were 18

[casino-lights]

do we think the room across from Caterina's room is Illario's room or do we think it's Lucanis' room and Illario just yoinked it? because inside it we see a letter from Illario to Lucanis, but we also see a burnt letter from Zara to Illario. and a lute. so either this is Lucanis' room and Illario moved in but hasn't moved the first letter (ouch) or it's always been Illario's room and he found it among Lucanis' belongings and kept it (double ouch). it's also possible that they shared it and Illario just moved the second bed out but that's a big house I doubt they'd share a room.

also whose damn lute is that

[vangbelsing]

Emmrich X Rook: First Moment of Connection Prompt for DADreams

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO I RAN LATE GRAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!!!!!!!! I am so UPSET because??? I kinda veered off course at the end there and the quality dipped so I could hit the deadline... which I failed at.... ANYWAY I am NOT fully pleased with this and I need to go through and edit it but I am sleepy and want it out NOW!!!!! Please forgive the quality, I'm getting back into the swing of things...

Alina had become accustomed to betrayals and deceit - politics, manipulation, seduction, backstabbing; all were commonplace amongst the Antivan Crows. She spent her life in their service, killing in their name and bringing them sovereigns aplenty, flashing charming smiles and honeyed words to all manner of people... Even those she found reprehensible. Because such was their expectation of her. Why would she give less than the entirety of herself to those she had been reared by? It's not as though she found no pleasure in her life lived amongst them, after all.

And yet, even calloused and cold, behind her smirks and wit and alluring glances she gave, there was still emotion, buried though it was. And she cursed the ease with which it could be coaxed to the surface, even after so much time had been spent to avoid it.

Her eyes, colored like a lush forest bathed in the light of the spring sun, cast their gaze to the nightstand where the letter sat, solemn and grave, before she sharply whipped her head to the opposite end of the room, the well tended edges of her cared for nails grazing her forearms as she dug them into her own flesh absent mindedly.

The letter had been passed to her as she and her unit made way through the stalls of Treviso, the hooded figure - clearly a constituent of the Crows - stopping her in order to deliver it, the small parcel lacking in a seal or stamp.

At first, she assumed it was just another request - some Crow or random no one whose name she didn't care to know asking a favor or giving information. Her disinterest turned into confusion, then shock, and then, at last, rage.

Alina briefly recalled how Emmrich and Lucanis turned to each other in bewilderment as she announced they would be returning to the Lighthouse prematurely. They had inquired after her reasoning, but the way she had uncharacteristically snapped so suddenly had ceased any further questioning from both parties.

As soon as they had returned, she wasted no time in retreating to her quarters, walking past Bellara and failing entirely to answer her. She hadn't even been fully aware of her there, truth be told. Not when she was worked up like this.

So now she was here, pacing madly in a wild frenzy in steps so heavy she was practically beating her heels into the floor, breathing and sighing, occasionally even cursing while she languished in her uncertainty and grief.

***

A soft hum of discontent left his throat subconsciously, his various chains, rings and bangles jingling and clanging as he rubbed his hands together in repetitive motions while he paced through the room. He had never seen her so shaken, never known her to be so done in by such visceral emotion before. He was used to seeing her flash a bright, comely grin, or seeing her eyes gleam with resolve. No obstacle had ever given her pause, even at the worst of times.

What had she seen to bring her to such state? It was as if he and Lucanis had ceased to exist entirely at the stalls in Treviso, her eyes in their direction, but not truly seeing them. Had she paid any attention then, she would have noticed the way Emmrichs eyes had never once left her countenance, his brows steadily furrowing in worry as the clear distress rose in her features.

He asked after her, the genuine concern for her clearly not reaching her as she initially ignored him completely, walking past him with her head and shoulders somewhat sagged, her brilliant black hairs falling in front of her face to obscure her eyes. When Lucanis and he both had pointed out her clear state of distress, she had snapped at them suddenly, leaving no further room for discussion as she immediately turned her back to them without so much as a glance.

He tried once more upon their return, yet she simply breezed past him, not so much as bothering to acknowledge his presence. In fact, even Bellara, whom Alina normally regarded with such fondness and attention, was utterly ignored. He knew better than to chase after her in that moment. After all, if she was so desperate to escape the rest of them, he would only be burdening her further, surely?

Emmrich sighed heavily, finally halting entirely to place his hands flat on his lower back, thoughtful.

That thought hadn't brought any degree of comfort in the three hours that had since passed. Bellara and Harding attempted to coax her out to supper, to no avail. They even tried having Lucanis cook a traditional Antivan dish to help her spirits. Once more, their efforts were met with the same lack of results.

"Manfred!" He called, a shout that carried no malice, but some urgency.

The sound of bones rattling and shoes squeaking on solid stone followed, the skeletal assistant hobbling in while holding a stack books.

Emmrich lifted his hand, his pointer finger outstretched, his other arm folded beneath his elbow, "Manfred, do be kind enough to mind the mortar and pestle while I tend to some business. That embrium won't grind itself."

Manfred placed the books down on a nearby desk, groaning all the while before he stretched his boney arms to give Emmrich two upturned thumbs; his way of letting Emmrich know he could be relied upon.

The necromancer couldn't help the proud smile that tugged his lips at the gesture, his chest filling with warmth. He then turned on his heel to exit the room to make his way to Alinas quarters. Perhaps she would meet him with nothing more than silence... or the opposite, but he felt he had to try. If she was deeply ailed by the contents of a simple letter, then he surmised that she could use the support - even if she didn't care to take it.

The activity in the main chamber had ceased, all the tenets currently retired to their respective quarters after supper had concluded. With a steady stride, he made his way to the staircase that led up in a spiral to where Alina would be. Each step taken up the marble stairway caused the sound of his jewelry to echo gently through and up the walls, sounding almost like a heavy purse of coins.

Emmrich stopped outside of Alinas door, listening momentarily to see if he could hear any rustling or movement. The notion that she may have fallen asleep after all the that time had not escaped him, and if she had found any rest, he hardly wished to be the reason she was kept from it. He needn't have bothered, however, as he almost immediately heard the sound her voice cursing in Antivan. He closed his eyes with a sigh. That hardly spoke well of the results he might receive. But he had resolved to try.

***

The word fell from her mouth with all the venom of a wyvern, her voice a lower register than was usual. She practically spat every time his name flashed into her thoughts, and was nearly drawn to physical reactions when his face threatened to flit behind her eyes. She thought herself above this now. After two years, how could she still be this... weak?

The sound of a knock made her head whip suddenly, her heart stopping momentarily in surprise. There was hardly any logical reason, but she felt uneased, almost unsafe. A few seconds passed in silence, with no indication of another incoming.

"Pardon the intrusion, Alina, but I was hoping I might borrow a moment of your time." The familiar voice of Emmrich came muffled through her door.

She sighed heavily, her shoulders slumping forward. 'It's just him... Of course, it's just him...' She thought to herself inwardly.

"It's not a good time." Alina said curtly, voice barely raised and tinted with a colorful spite, though not directed at Emmrich.

The sound of the necromancer clearing his throat was almost inaudible behind the door. "I had assumed you might say as much, but I'm afraid it is for exactly that reason that I must insist we speak."

Alina said nothing in response, instead standing in place with the obstinance of a child too petulant to admit defeat at an imagined foe. Once more, silence enveloped the two, neither one speaking for a time, one too stubborn to yield, and the other attempting to afford the understanding he knew was needed.

Finally, a sigh, heavy enough to be heard distinctly even through the door, made its way passed Emmrichs lips.

"Alina, it isn't my wish to harangue you, but I must urge you to reconsider speaking with someone. It needn't even be me, if you prefer, but you haven't been yourself ever since you read the contents of that letter..."

A pause came then, Emmrichs voice faltering as he pondered his next words, leaving Alina to stare expectantly at the shadow he cast beneath her door.

"You are a strong, thoughtful and capable woman. But I fear that leads you to believe that you must bear each burden in solitude. Frankly... I worry for you."

The words hung in the air between them, the sound of them ringing in Alinas head like the bells heard in the Grand Cathedral of Orlais. He sounded so genuine, so sincere. The tone of his voice was that of a man who hoped not to probe or prod, but to help. Not the 'help' so called friends who were more akin to vipers that thrived on the secret ways a thing might plague a soul with doubt or fear like those found in the Crows, but true, unselfish help.

Moments went by without words for the third time then, and the absence of her voice must have lingered too long, as she heard Emmrich sigh, the sound almost defeated.

"I apologize if I have overstepped, that is the furthest from my intention. If you should ever decide it is needed, know that my help is always open to you."

She closed the sparse distance between herself and the door as she heard him turn on his heel, gripping the knob perhaps too roughly before turning it slowly in contrast. She stood there now, her door only partially opened as she hanged her head, not meeting Emmrichs gaze, which had been cast towards her upon his realization that her door had been swung ajar.

When her eyes finally dared a glance at his face, she saw the tender smile adorning his features; a look that spoke of understanding. She snapped her gaze to the floor again, stepping to the side in silent invitation. He nodded, a useless exercise in propriety, as Alina had already spun around to go deeper into her chambers, before crossing the threshold, closing the door carefully behind him.

Upon his entry, he noted the relative state of tidiness about the room, save for the sole pile of clothes bunched up into the corner - the discarded armor from earlier that day - and the disarray of the bedsheets, which looked to have been tousled from above.

This had been his first time setting foot in her room. Her scent clung to the air here. Not overpowering, just distinct in its presence. Hints of lavender and cinnamon bark wafted through the chamber, pleasant and welcome. He noted then the letter sitting on a desk in a far corner of the room, left there like a relic of superstition that one would be too fearful to touch.

"I'm not entirely sure what you're hoping to hear me say." Alina announced, bringing Emmrich back from his thoughts.

He brought each of his fingertips to rest against one another on either hand, holding them in a pyramid shape hanged just above the sash at his waist, his face neutral.

"What it is that has you so stricken would be a fine place to start, I should think."

"That isn't what I meant. It's..." she paused, folding one arm beneath her elbow to prop the other up, her fingers taking a large strand of her ebony black hair between them to twist and curl it between them - a quirk she often displayed as a manner of self soothing, "...I don't know what saying it would change. The reality remains the same, regardless."

"Not necessarily. There are times when voicing ones feelings can be greatly liberating, or even at times revolutionary."

"You say that as though I should already know it."

"If you were not already aware, perhaps you might consider this something of a learning experience?"

Alina looked up to Emmrich, her green eyes searching for something telling. He merely gave her that familiar, understanding smile.

"I can see this is difficult for you, Alina, and I can assure you that you are safe to express whatever it is weighing on your heart."

She continued to pinch and twirl her hair between her slender, pale fingers, looking away from the necromancer before turning her back to him.

"It... would be easier if you simply read the note." She breathed out, her words catching slightly in her throat as if obstructed.

He stood, simply looking at her for a time as if ensuring all was safe for him to proceed. After only a moment, the jingling of his jewelry bounced delicately off the walls as he began to move, Emmrich stopping right as he stood perfectly before the desk in the corner. He reached out, taking it carefully from its perch. His long digits took deliberate care not to damage the page.

His eyes rolled over each word with consideration, taking in their meaning attentively. His brows knitted together, concern and confusion melding into one. When he had finished reading, he cast his gaze to rest on Alinas back, which was still facing him.

"Alina, I'm not sure I understand... This man, Aurelio... He wishes to see you?" Emmrich asked.

"Yes."

"But something happened between you? Something to earn him your resentment?"

"Yes."

"And what is it about this that is troubling you so?" He inquired, finally setting the letter aside, "If you're conflicted-"

"I'm not." Alina interjected swiftly, all but spitting out the words. "I never want to lay eyes on him for as long as I live."

"Yet you remain perturbed nonetheless. Clearly, the matter is not so easily settled."

"You don't understand!" Her voice raised now in what sounded too close to panic for her liking.

"I am trying to." Emmrich replied, his words low and calm, brimming with a patience she thought of as almost foreign.

"Emmrich, he..." she paused, the twirling motions of her fingers becoming increasingly rough and quick, which gained the necromancers notice, "This man... He betrayed me."

Emmrich chanced a small step towards her, his hands interlocking as his attention returned to the obscured part of Alinas face that was visible to him, the elf shifting awkwardly in her place.

"How so?" He questioned delicately, sensitively, his voice barely above a whisper.

"We had - we were engaged to marry, you see. We were lovers for many years, and friends for many more. But..." she stopped, her hand all but yanking at the strands of her hair now, "He had been unfaithful. I don't know for how long and I don't care. He lured me out to where he and his mistress could kill me - dispose of me so I would no longer be an obstacle."

She twisted her torso slightly, not facing him fully, but granting him view enough of her frame to make out the way the hand not tugging at her raven locks ghosted up her collarbone to touch the edge of her choker necklace, which would look more akin to a thick collar if not for the fine lace and adornments lined with gold patterns.

"He watched as his lover slit my throat and left me to die. He planned it..." her words were choked, her voice raising in pitch, "I trusted him with my life; I would have given it to him, and he still tried to take it from me."

She met his gaze now, her eyes boring into his with renewed fire, even as the edges brimmed with moisture. "You want me to tell you how I feel? I feel angry. I feel foolish for ever having trusted that bastard. I feel as if I've had something stolen, while he has the gall to plead to meet with me! How can someone do that?! How does... How can..."

As Alina drawled off, her words fading into dead air as her fingers sat motionless and dug mindlessly into her black tresses, Emmrich regarded her with a tender expression.

"I see. It isn't the man, but what was taken from you that you mourn." His words came out as if he was more musing to himself as opposed to speaking directly to Alina.

Alina jumped slightly as she felt the sudden press of hands gently cupping her shoulders, her eyes blowing wide as the man turned her slowly to face him.

"My dear girl," he started in a tone that was kind yet firm, his larger hand reaching out to pry her smaller one that was tangled in her now frazzled hair, holding it gingerly, "perhaps the words mean too little and come far too late, but I deeply sorry for what was done to you."

Emmrich released her hand and shoulder slowly, her green, verdant eyes caught in his brown gaze that seemed to brim with benevolence and sympathy.

"What you suffered was vicious and utterly horrific. You deserve far better than the abject cruelty that you faced."

Her breath caught as Emmrich moved then to tuck the strand of hair she had defaced behind her ear, his fingers light and slow, his touch ghosting a long, thoughtful trail along the rim of her pointed ear.

Then, his features melted into pure compassion. In that moment, she nearly felt compelled to sob openly. Years had gone by without ever hearing so much as a word of comfort, even from those she may have counted amongst her friends. Yet, here was Emmrich; towering above her, ready to reassure and offer solace with open arms.

She touched the place where his fingers had been, lowering her face so he could longer stare at her, hiding how her eyes welled with tears.

"It's late. I should get some sleep. You should too." She spoke quietly, fearing the way she might sound if she raised her voice.

"I believe you should, yes." Emmrich dipped his head, the expression he wore a knowing one. He understood what she needed.

He made his way to the entrance of her room, grabbing the knob gently. "Goodnight, Alina."

"Goodnight." She replied in a whisper he could only barely register.

Her eyes never left the floor, but as she heard the door creak shut at last, she stood there motionless for what felt like an eternity. His footsteps followed, the sound slight until they faded entirely. She stared at the place where he had stood earlier now, the edge of her mouth drawn up subconsciously.

"Thank you."