Chapter Text
It was raining. Not a frequent occurrence in Treviso, but certainly a welcome one. The sound of racing droplets trickling down to the windowsill, petrichor, calm, beauty, meditation. A time of respite. A time of remembering that life existed before and will exist after the Evanuris crisis. The Evanuris… once a vital part of her life, of her understanding of life, now the nemeses who threatened everything she knew and held dear. Whatever that was.
A big gulp of brandy. She crinkled her nose as soon as the alcohol hit her tastebuds. Who likes the taste of it, she wondered. It isn’t like coffee, tea, or nectar. It’s all about the endgame. Whoever spewed that nonsense about focusing on the journey rather than the destination must be an utter moron, for sure. Every action is defined by its ulterior motive.
But all this train of thought was just a way for Rook to make sense of that damned Tevinter mage. Why had she kissed her? Out there, by the docks, hearts skipping like the stones they threw in the sea. Such foolishness. Neve Gallus, with her icy coldness, playing the romantic with her. Throwing her a bone, only to most likely end up taking it away. She would never be able to handle the real deal. Could Rook, though?
Another gulp of brandy, only to recoil and feel like retching. It wasn’t for her, any of this. Being a leader, making world-changing decisions, uniting factions against apocalyptic enemies. She was an assassin, and a smug one at that, the best one for the job, she loved the thrill of it, the shadows, the sneaking around, the intrigue, the poison. But she was having fun, so that clearly wasn’t the source of her woes. No, the feelings tugging at her heartstrings had nothing to do with the obviously dire situation Thedas had come to be in. She’d take that as it went. Her mind was just trying to find an easier target to lament about. Damn Neve Gallus. And her lips, and her tongue, and her fingers grabbing a fistful of her hair mid-kiss, and her always somehow barely buttoned up shirt--
A knock on the door, Rook flinched, but was happy to have been interrupted. However, nobody knew she had sneaked out of the Lighthouse to spend some time alone at her apartment. She grabbed the dagger that was always at arm’s length in one hand, brandy in the other, and tiptoed towards the entrance. It must be Viago, she thought, and relaxed a bit, before asking to make sure.
“Hey, Rook.” Well, shit. How did she know where to find her? Her knees felt weak for a brief second. Snap out of it, dammit. “I can hear you, you know.” A giggle. Damn that giggle!
Rook opened up and rested her dagger-ready arm against the doorway, big stupid grin on her face. The woman who stood before her, raven-black hair drenched from the rain, smelling faintly of musk, something floral, and tobacco, smiled too, much more coyness in her expression, and took the dagger out of the elf’s hand in a careful, but swift move. “Bit paranoid, Trouble.”
Tsk. There she went again with that nickname. The woman would be the death of her, no ifs ands or buts about it. “I hoped to be sneaky enough,” she responded, and stepped sideways to let Neve come in.
“Perhaps your skills are getting rusty,” the Tevene teased, grabbing Rook’s chin in passing after sitting down at the kitchen table as if it were her home to begin with. And that wasn’t an unpleasant thought for the Antivan at all. “Pour me some of that?” she pointed at Rook’s drink, and shortly began prepping her pipe.
Rook obliged, trying to feign annoyance, but she was a pretty bad act. “Must have forgot to hang up the big sign that says ‘No smoking’.”
“Oh, don’t be such a bore.” Neve laughed, exhaling the first drag from the pipe. Rook closed her eyes for a second if only to fully take in Neve’s laughter while she was pouring her some brandy, silencing the chastising thoughts that ran amok through her mind.
“Salud.” The clink of the glasses, the silence that followed. Words disappeared in the smoke of the pipe for a couple of seconds, and the world outside barely existed anymore. “So, to what do I owe the visit? And, also, you have to tell me how you found me.”
“Lucanis can never deny me.” Neve enjoyed the almost imperceptible grimace those words took out of Rook. “As to why… I just thought I should check up on you.” She cared. A strange concept, looking back on Rook’s previous entanglements. Not that anything was ever really serious.
“Oh I’m fine.” Rook put on the largest, fakest smile she could muster. “A bit lost in thought, but nothing world-shattering.”
“We are in a pretty world-shattering conundrum as is,” Neve mused amusedly.
“Hm,” Rook reciprocated with a smile, then took a swig of brandy, and the sound the glass made against the wooden table when she set it down was too loud in the depth of the night. She ran her fingers around the rim of the glass, all too nervous that Neve might pick up on the doubts that were eating away at her in the same measure want did.
“Rook, I’m… Not asking anything of you.” Neve slowly moved her hand over the other woman’s, a mindless attempt to grab her attention. Rook obliged, and shot her a short glance, but it overwhelmed her too quickly, so she returned to the glass, tightening her hand into a fist and keeping silent. The mage gulped disappointedly and retracted her touch. “Maybe we both read too much into something that was just… the spur of the moment. We kissed. People kiss. It doesn’t have to mean anything more than that.” What a lie. What a horrible liar. And with that hitch in her voice. That final little crack. The faintest of sniffles. And a glass of brandy that became ever too quickly an empty one. “Right. I’ll, uh… leave you be,” Neve said while cleaning her pipe of ash.
She got up to leave. Rook grabbed her wrist assuredly. “No. Stay.” Still not taking her eyes off her glass, she wanted it to sound decisive. But it came out a bit desperate, and she hated herself for it. She turned halfway to meet Neve’s gaze, and she could tell her eyes were wet and there was this crippling fear in them. “I want…” the Antivan began, stumbling over her own words like the utter fool she was turning into. “I want you. So badly, I can’t think straight. I can’t focus on anything.”
“Rook…” Neve pleaded, cocking her head in an act of pure desperation. “This is such a bad idea…”
Rook stood up, still holding on to Neve’s wrist, and pulled her closer, so close that their bodies were touching completely, and settled the woman’s arm around her back, which prompted a slow journey from the ice mage, up towards her nape. She buried her face in the other’s neck, inhaling the smell of her, revelling in the warmth of her body, it was all too much. Rook could barely breathe, and she could feel Neve’s heartbeat over hers, in sync, pumping out of her chest. “You’re intoxicating,” she whispered against the other’s earlobe, gently nuzzling against it, which prompted a hum from Neve.
The Tevene’s hand reached Rook’s hair and closed in a fist around it, and her other hand holding on around the base of her shirt, right above her ass. “What are you doing, Rook?” she asked, mouth touching her shoulder, breathing hitched, Maker she could barely form a coherent thought, but the alarm bells of her feelings were being louder than ever.
Rook didn’t answer, too lost in the flowery musk aroma of Neve’s crook of her neck, one hand on the other side of her neck. Couldn’t possibly hold back now, that’s why she had to be away for a while, she knew it would’ve come to this sooner or later. And yes, probably, most definitely a bad idea, they were in big trouble, but she had to have her, damn the gods, damn the end of the world, damn everything. She grabbed a mouthful of skin between her lips from underneath the mage’s ear, and Neve hissed, tightening her grip on Rook’s shirt. It made Rook smile, no, roguishly grin, so she pulled back just to look at the Tevene’s hooded eyes, pupils dilated, drowned in desire. She looked so utterly dismantled, off the high horse show she put up for everyone else.
A couple of seconds of looking into each others’ eyes, after which Neve wrapped her hand softly around Rook’s throat. “Maker, you’re dismantling me,” she said hoarsely, somewhere between a murmur and a whisper. As Rook opened her mouth to answer, she instead found herself with Neve’s lips violently parting hers, their tongues intertwining, fighting for dominance, gods, what obscene sounds they both made, breathing be damned ‘cause their bodies were functioning on one organ alone, and eventually, her back was against a wall, hitting it with a loud thud.
“Venhedis, I…” Neve began, as if woken up from a sleepwalking spell. She pulled away, looked at Rook, pondered just what the hell she was doing. How was this the right time for attachments? She took a step back, and fixed her crinkled shirt, ran a hand through her hair, trying to regain her composure.
“See? This is why I had to leave the Lighthouse for a bit,” Rook replied. She tried to smile, but the uncertainty of Neve’s demeanour had always blindsided her. She’d been screwed over too many times, and adding heartbreak to the mix while trying to save the world was not the brightest idea.
“Mhm,” was all Gallus could respond with, gently wiping her mouth, not missing Rook’s gaze for a second.
After what felt like an eternity of neither of them being able to put their thoughts in order enough to speak, Neve turned around on her heel to reach for her glass, and gulped down the entirety of her drink in a second. Rook joined her at the table and followed course. Neve sat down, letting out a long sigh, filled up her pipe and lit it up again.
“So…” Rook broke the ice. “What’s the plan?” she asked and propped herself on her chair’s backrest. “Are we going to keep making out and then get interrupted by random things, such as a cat or our own better judgment?”
Neve let out a short giggle. If I give into this, I’ll never be able to let it go, she thought, nervously smoking out of her pipe, all while trying to play nonchalant. A better preoccupation than actually answering Rook’s question, which she’d been mulling over incessantly anyway. She swallowed, trying to find the right words. “I don’t know why I’m here, to be completely honest.” Great thinking, Neve. Very becoming of you to just blurt out something like this.
“Oh,” Rook reacted, shifting her weight from one arm to the other on the backrest, trying to hide her nervousness. “Look, I… Don’t ask anything of you. I’ll be here no matter what.”
“You can’t promise that,” Neve chuckled sadly.
“I can.”
“No, you can’t. Please, stop trying to. You’re making it worse.” Neve got up, much to Rook’s anxiety about her leaving, but she just went to open the window and sit on the sill, heavy rain turning into a much needed background sound.
The elf stepped towards her and leaned against the windowsill. Gods, but she was a sight to behold, the wind from outside ruffling her hair, the smoke from the pipe engulfing her face and making her blink. Rook was completely at her mercy and no amount of staying away would fix that. But she was so inexperienced with words, with feelings, it all was very clear to her even though it was so complex. She swallowed her uncertainty and took Neve’s hand in hers, gently rubbing her thumb against her knuckles. Neve’s first instinct was to flinch, but she refrained from doing so. “Can you stay with me tonight? Just to talk, maybe drink some more, sleep.” There I go with this desperation again.
Neve smiled and reached out to gently cup Rook’s cheek, and the latter leaned into her touch, nuzzling against her palm. The softness of it all was just enough to make her heart ache. There were words floating just between feeling and speaking out, so heavy they could drown her entirely. “What if I won’t be able to leave afterwards? Ever?” she asked, half joking.
“What if I wouldn’t want you to? Ever?” Rook responded in kind and touched Neve’s wrist.
“Rook, I’m…” so in love with you I can’t breathe “…gonna stay. For that. Talking, drinking, sleeping. Can’t say no to Antivan brandy after all.”
Rook all but jumped at the sound of Neve’s words. “There’s more where that came from!” she said, and excitedly went to refill Neve’s glass.
“Glad to hear it, Trouble,” Neve said, watching the elf’s giddy little walk towards the bottle. “Glad to hear it…” she murmured to herself again and closed the window to join her.