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Hymn to Virgil

Summary:

SPOILERS !!!
Turn back if you haven’t finished the game. This is for the Emmrich bone daddy lovers out there, especially us masc folks.

Takes place in act 3 surrounding the Fade scene, ifykyk

Notes:

Bioware left us STARVED after Rook got trapped in the Fade prison, especially with Emmrich’s romance, so I’m out of my fanfic hibernation and here to deliver (I blame EA). So here’s a little fix-it to add in what happened on the other side with the companions and when they pull Rook free.

This was a little rushed and is unedited so I’ll probably come back and check for any errors.

Work Text:

“The Fade’s still ripping open!” Neve shouts, feet digging into the ground to push back against the force whirling around them.

 

Emmrich pushes forward a few steps, squinting against the light. The power is immense, it’s almost like… the Fade is tearing into the real world. Emmrich’s brain clicks then, his years of experience and study fueling his instinct. “The Dagger! Rook, you must break its contact with Ghilan’nain!” He can just see Rook’s form through the swirling energy as he pushes forward. Come on, darling, you can do it…

 

Rook grits his teeth, staggering as he reaches forward, finally grasping the dagger and pulling it from Ghilan’nain’s body—

 

The light that bursts forward is blinding, pushing everything back in a torrent of power. Emmrich gasps as he falls back, fruitlessly raising an arm to shield his gaze. For a moment, there’s nothing but the ringing in his ears, echoes of the light clouding his vision.

 

And then there’s silence.

 

Emmrich blinks to clear his vision, slowly raising himself as the dust settles. At first, relief floods him at the sight of a figure standing above Ghilan’nain’s body, dagger grasped in hand, the passing eclipse casting a bloody backdrop against the sky.

 

But it’s too late when he realizes that figure isn’t Rook. Emmrich may not have met him directly, but there’s no mistaking who now stands in Rook’s place.

 

Solas.

 

“No… No! ” Emmrich all but shouts. The anguish is already clutching at his stomach, a clawing desperation he could not hold back if he wished it. All of his usual composure struck away in an instant. He ignores Neve’s weak warning of his name, fists clenching as he moves forward. “What have you done? Where is Rook?!”

 

“Elgarn’nan’s plan is in motion. He will not wait on the trifles of a mere mortal.” Solas’s voice is cold and calculated, which makes the anger flare hot in Emmrich’s chest.

 

“I ought to—“

 

“Be prepared. Elgar’nan will spare no mercy now.” And then Solas is gone. Just as quickly as he came.

 

Emmrich staggers a little under the weight of the moment. Half of him has the mind to burn a trail of fire after Solas. But he’s gone… he’s… Rook’s gone.

 

Emmrich whirls around, his mind grasping for something, anything . “Rook…?” Davrin is helping Lucanis up from the rubble, Assan flittering around nervously with small, sad chirps, as if searching just like him. Neve stands solemnly, eyes cast to the ground.

 

And… Rook’s weapon, cast aside in Ghilan’nain’s grasp.

 

“No…” Emmrich blinks back a wave of tears, swallowing back the tightness in his throat. The anger he felt mere moments ago is crushed under the weight of agony anew. A few steps and he’s sinking to his knees, hands shaking as he tenderly picks up Rook’s weapon.

 

I know what I’m getting into.

 

At your age?

 

Oh don’t start.

 

We must consider this.

 

You’re overthinking it and it’s not the time.

 

One of us has to worry about my mortality!

 

Because you’re worried about me or insecure about yourself?


The Dagger! Rook, you must break its contact with Ghilan’nain!


“Maker… what have I done…” Emmrich breaths, the shaken noise of a broken man passing his lips. A few of his tears fall upon the weapon of his beloved as he grasps it closer, tighter. Incants fall from his lips, his hands glowing green as he desperately grasps at the remaining threads of the Fade, pleading to any that would hear.

 

“Emmrich…” Neve’s voice comes from above, dull with grief.

 

“No, no! He’s still here! I’m not… my darling… I…”

 

“Emmrich, we have to go.” Davrin’s voice is firmer. “This place will be swarming with Antaam at any moment. We… we have to find Taash and get back to the boat.”

 

Emmrich shuts his eyes tightly, willing this all to just disappear. It’s a dream—if he can just wake up… but it’s not some twisted dream. It’s real.

 

Rook is gone. And it’s his fault.

 

Emmrich takes a shuddering breath, trying to muster some measure of composure. His throat feels too tight, so he simply nods, pushing himself up to his feet.

 

He must continue. It’s what Rook would have wanted. Elgar’nan’s death will be in Rook’s name, and Maker help Solas if Emmrich ever sees him again. That one will be personal.

 

 

 

 

Even the Lighthouse grieves. The very saturation of the place has dulled, or at least it seems that way. The gold no longer gleams, the wisps drift in sorrowful tones around Rook’s favorite spots. The core of this place, this Veilguard, has been ripped away.

 

Harding’s sacrifice.

 

Bellara…

 

Everyone knew the risks coming into the final battle. Their hand had been pushed, the sudden eclipse tossing any preparations they might have been able to conjure over the cliff. But now, facing the casualties in the aftermath, proves more difficult than their initial understanding.

 

Five days. It’s been nearly a week since the battle and Ghilan’nain’s death. Five days since Bellara’s capture. Five days since Harding’s sacrifice. Five days since Rook’s fate. And oh how silent those days have been.

 

Taash spent most of their time in Harding’s room, finding pieces of her in the plants she’ll no longer tend. Neve pulled herself into her work, hours of pouring over old notes, gathering new information from contacts. A trinket of the three lost now residing beside Brom’s broach on the detective’s desk. Lucanis, no stranger to grief, takes care in his own way, ensuring they all have something to eat, even if the plates go untouched some nights. Davrin, much the same, helps where he can, but trying to console a distraught Assan proves too much for even a man with death as companion.

 

Emmrich… is lost. Locked in a spiral of denial and grief he never thought he’d face. His hair remains unbrushed, shaving kit untouched. Always the academic, he drowns himself in his tomes, searching for any information that might bring him answers and atonement. And when the words begin to slip into each other from stress or tears, he finds himself in Rook’s room, that pit in his chest swallowing him whole.

 

Oh, and Manfred. Poor Manfred. Emmrich never thought he’d see the day his poor companion could feel anything but curiosity. As soon as they had escaped and made it back to the Lighthouse, Manfred had happily gone about making some tea. It was their little custom by now. Whenever Rook would go out, Emmrich by his side or not, he’d come back and bathe before coming to Emmrich’s room to relax, greeted by fresh tea from little Manfred. Oh how Manfred had come to care for Rook.

 

“There goes our magic-flinging skeleton son.”

 

That day, after the battle, Manfred had made Rook’s favorite tea, waiting for his return. Waited until the tea ran cold. And when Rook failed to show, Manfred had shuffled up to Emmrich with a quiet “ Rook…? ” Emmrich had to sit down with how hard his tears came then.

 

Emmrich could tell the others were worried for him. It was no secret he and Rook had grown close, a delicate but deep romance blossoming between them. It seemed like just yesterday they had strolled the Memorial Gardens, stealing a first kiss, having a romantic dinner the next night. And now… his darling is gone. Of course he was taking it harder than the rest.

 

 

 

Emmrich sighed, rubbing at his tired eyes. It was late, and he had been pouring over another manuscript. Manfred sat by the fire, silently entranced by the flickering flames. Emmrich watched him for a moment, a soft sigh passing his lips.

 

It felt so… empty here, without Rook’s charming smiles and playful jabs. Emmrich shifted his gaze to the weapon propped up by the fireplace, the last thing his darling Rook had touched. And there it was, that tightness of grief clutching at his chest. But he still refused to believe that the one person who had become more important to him than anything was gone.

 

The knock on his door breaks Emmrich from his thoughts. He clears his throat, producing a handkerchief to wipe his eyes. “Come in.”

 

Lucanis opens the door, stepping inside and closing it behind him. “Emmrich. Brought some fruit.”

 

“Ah, Lucanis. Thank you, but I’m already full.” Emmrich leans back in his chair, running a hand through his greying hair.

 

Lucanis hums thoughtfully, moving towards Emmrich’s desk. “Is that why you barely ate dinner?” He tilts his head, glancing at the nearly full plate on Emmrich’s desk, barely pecked at. Emmrich grimaces slightly, sighing. “You need to eat something at the least. Come, I brought pineapple. Neve said you like it a lot.”

 

“I’m alright, Lucanis, really—“

 

“No, you’re not.” Lucanis cuts Emmrich off, giving him a hard stare. It’s not unkind, fueled by care. “You’re working yourself to the bone. You can’t carry on like this without taking care of yourself too.”

 

“I need to do this! I’m the Fade expert, if anyone can figure out what happened to Rook it’s me! It’s my fault he’s gone at all!” Emmrich’s a little startled at his own outburst, his eyes widening slightly. He clears his throat, looking down at his lap. “I won’t sit idly by and just… just mourn him like everyone else.”

 

Lucanis breathes deeply, thinking for a moment. He then drags up the other chair in the room, setting the plate of pineapple in front of Emmrich before sitting down. “Eat.”

 

Emmrich sighs, in both exasperation and acquiescence. He glances at the fruit for a moment, before picking up the fork and eating a piece of the fruit.

 

“Not everyone.”

 

“Pardon?”

 

“Not everyone is morning Rook.”

 

Emmrich stares at Lucanis, a bit dumbfounded. “You… you don’t?” He forces himself to eat another bite, a little ashamed at the hungered pain that hits his stomach.

 

“I grieve his loss, yes. But not his death. Nor Bellara’s.” Lucanis crosses his arms, regarding Emmrich solemly.

 

Emmrich’s quiet for a moment, wracking through his thoughts as he silently eats. “I… I can’t accept his death. I know Rook’s gone, but… there’s a part of me that still clings to hope. I’m not sure if it’s just my grief deceiving me…”

 

“I believe you.” Lucanis leans forward, sighing. “I’m a Crow. We confirm the deed with our own hands. A job is not done until there is a body.”

 

“A body… so… you think there’s a chance…?”

 

“I do. But I would not let such hope blind me, or destroy me.” Lucanis gives Emmrich a knowing look then. “Elgarn’nan is still out there, Rook would want us to finish the job. We have to focus on him, before more innocent people die by his hand.”

 

“But Rook…”

 

“If Rook is still out there, we will find him. But we can’t do that if the world falls into Elgern’nan’s hands.”

 

Emmrich grunts, rubbing at his temple. He knows Lucanis is right. And he hates it. That little voice in his mind keeps crying out for his lover. How could he let him go, for even a moment? It’s like if he moves on, stops thinking about Rook, stops working for his return, then he’ll slip from his grasp for good.

 

“And how are we supposed to stop Elgarn’nan, Lucanis? You killed Ghila’nain, but if Elgarn’nan is twice her power or more? And we don’t even have the dagger anymore, Solas had it when he escaped…”

 

Emmrich stops mid-bite, the fork with pineapple hovering before his lips. Solas. The dagger. His thoughts become a maelstrom, but controlled and pointed.

 

“There it is. See? Told you you needed to eat.” Lucanis gives a little smirk.

 

Emmrich barely even hears him. He drops the fork to his plate, pushing his chair back as he stands. “Solas had the dagger! ” He rounds his desk, starting to pace with his hands behind his back. Manfred glances up, letting out an inquisitive hiss.

 

“Rook took the dagger from Ghila’nain’s body. He had it in his grasp. So how did Solas have it? That must—that must mean…”

 

“He took it from Rook?”

 

“Yes! Precisely! Rook said Solas was trapped in a prison on the fade. A prison of his own creation that he could not escape. The Fade was tearing apart when you killed Ghila’nain, and if Solas had a connection to Rook’s brain… it could have provided the perfect opportunity, a literal opening, for Solas to not only bring Rook’s mind to the prison, but also his physical form! So…” Emmrich sighs a little in defeat, his voice trailing off as he realises. “…Solas used the dagger to escape…”

 

Emmrich sighs again, resting a hand on his hip as the other rubs his chin. Of course he’d figure out what happened to Rook, realize that his darling may well be alive, only to realize there was no way of breaking them out. “Without that dagger… Maker… there’s no way we can face Elgarn’nan or possibly even rescue Rook…”

 

Lucanis is quiet for a moment, sighing to himself. “What… if we made our own dagger?” He finally speaks up after a moment. Emmrich’s brows furrow, turning to Lucanis. “Elgarn’nan made his own, no? We could do the same.”

 

Emmrich mulls over the thought, a worried crease between his brows. Crafting such a dagger could be possible, but they were not Evanuris, and crafting such a magical artifact was most likely beyond even him. “It… is an idea. The probability of success is very low, but it’s more than we have now.”

 

“It’s settled.” Lucanis gets up, nodding. “I’ll tell the others in the morning and we’ll come up with a plan. You get some rest.”

 

Emmrich hums, nodding as he watches Lucanis make for the door. “Lucanis?” Lucanis turns, his hand on the door. “Thank you, truly.”

 

“Of course. We take care of each other, it’s what we do.”

 

 

Emmrich finished his food and finally got descent rest. Even if his sleep was plagued by the disappearance of his lover again, but this time aided with more excruciating details. Seeing Rook trapped in the Fade, grey and fuzzy, Emmrich yelling and pushing but it fell on deaf ears, like he was staring through a window he was helpless against.

 

But things got a bit better. They had a plan now. Their own dagger to face the Gods. But Emmrich, of course, still focused on the Fade. Scouring over old tomes, scrying, consulting with colleagues. He even resorted to Johannes’ skull , which only left him more frustrated than before. He was the Fade expert, why couldn’t he figure it out? Why couldn’t he find a way to save his darling Rook? It ate away at him, his moral and confidence slowly chipping away, constantly questioning his own knowledge and expertise. He… he should be able to do this, right?

 

It took weeks, but the dagger was finally crafted. Met with mixed feelings, of course. The dagger was not an Evanuris creation like the others, it could not harness the complicated spell craft needed to pierce the Veil. That, in particular, was a blow to Emmrich, making Rook feel even farther away. More dreams now; Rook, just within his grasp, grasping him through the Veil, but his darling slowly slipping away only for that tear to close between them.

 

Emmrich was slowly losing hope.

 

And then… and then the Veil started to weaken. Emmrich could feel it, somewhere deep within him. Elgarn’nan was at work, no doubt. Something he didn’t want to confirm lest it be false hope. But the others saw it too. Reports from outings of more spirits where none had been, carried words of tears in the Veil suddenly appearing. Emmrich was growing desperate, but slowly hopeful. He confirmed it himself through whispers of the spirits.

 

Finally, oh Maker finally he had his opportunity. A tear in the Lighthouse. He had been pouring over his notes when Taash came barreling in, startling him to the point he almost knocked over his tea.

 

“Emmrich!” Taash huffed, clearly having run up here. “We need you, now. There’s something going on. Lucanis said Spite wouldn’t shut up about hearing Rook, and then we—”

 

Emmrich only stared at them in shock for a moment before he was grabbing his coat, cutting Taash off as he clumsily pulled it on and rushed out with Taash. He could hear the others gathered downstairs in the library, their voices getting clearer as he and Taash made their way down.

 

“What is going on?”

 

“If the Veil’s weakening, shouldn’t there be demons or something?”

 

“Hush. Are those voices? There—“

 

Emmrich could feel the Fade, like other tears he had come near, but somehow this was… different. No visible tear, but a crackling in the air around them.

 

Voices . Yes, he could hear it now. Muffled, distant, but he could hear it. And that voice… his heart clenched. Rook .

 

Emmrich ran a hand through his hair, his heart pounding. He desperately racked his brain for information. If he could find the weakest point, there could be a chance he could manipulate the Fade enough to—he shuts his thoughts down as he immediately focuses on instinct, following the traces of Fade outside.

 

“This way. It’s thinner here.” Emmrich draws in a breath, clenching his hands to help him concentrate. He won’t let this opportunity slip away from him. Not now.

 

“Gotta be right,” Taash chimes in, stepping up beside him.

 

Rook’s voice is growing louder, clearer now, but it’s still hard to make out what he’s saying. “Rook!” Lucanis calls.

 

Emmrich nearly stumbles as they make it outside. A light, in the courtyard. Maker, please . “There! A light!” The light flickers as it grows, forming a proper tear in the Veil. They can barely see it, but a figure begins to form in the opening, flickering in and out of focus.

 

“We’ve got something. Get ready.” Lucanis rolls up his sleeves, standing beside Emmrich at the opening of the tear. Emmrich doesn’t even think, driven by a pure, desperate instinct. With a stealing breath he plunges his hand into the tear, squinting at the energy that overflows him.

 

And then a hand clasps his arm. Emmrich’s jaw clenches, quickly grabbing on. The others see it, and Taash quickly reaches in as well, grabbing Emmrich’s arm to help pull. “Heave!”

 

Emmrich gasps as Rook stumbles out of the tear. He nearly falls back at the force of it, his grip still on Rook’s arm. but Lucanis is quick to steady him.

 

“Rook…” Emmrich gasps, staring wide eyed at that familiar face, not wasting a second to pull his darling into his arms. “ Rook!

 

Rook blinks for a second, a little shocked, before his arms are closing around Emmrich in a tight embrace. “Emmrich…” he breathes, pressing his face into Emmrich’s shoulder. Emmrich’s hold tightens. Rook feels so cold, but he’s alive, he’s here, he’s here . The relief that hits him is almost nauseating.

 

The others crowd in, wrapping Rook into a group hug. The relief from everyone is palpable, the stress and grief from the past weeks lifting its hold. “Mierda, you had us scared.” Lucanis sighs.

 

Rook smiles a little as he’s wrapped in their arms. Out of everything in his time in the Fade prison, he wasn’t scared of dying, he was scared of losing this . Of losing the people he’d come to associate with home, with family.

 

As the others slowly pull away, Emmrich still clings to him, and Rook grows a little worried when he feels the necromancer’s shoulders shaking. “Emmrich?” He pulls back a little, his heart clenching on his chest. “Emmrich… are you crying?”

 

“Sorry, I just…” Emmrich sniffles, trying to blink away his tears. Rook’s hands find his face and he lets out a shaky breath, eyes shutting tight as his lover wipes the tears from his cheeks. He thought he’d never be able to feel those calloused hands ever again. Oh dear, he’s losing his composure again. “I thought I’d lost you, darling…”

 

“I’m here, love, I’m here.” Rook reassures gently, offering a small smile.

 

“You should rest, Rook. We can fill you in on everything later.” Neve gently interrupts, knowing it would give the couple a chance to be alone as well.

 

Rook looks at Neve, shaking his head slightly. “I’m alright, Neve. An hour in the Fade won’t put me down that easily.”

 

The others share a look then, and Emmrich feels his gut clench. He takes a composing breath, expression growing solemn, his hands moving to gently grasp Rook’s own. “Dearest… let’s go to your room.” The necromancer leads Rook back into the Lighthouse. He can hear Manfred chattering away as they pass his room, the reanimated skeleton must have figured out what was going on. It brought him another measure of comfort to hear him so lively again.

 

Once in Rook’s room, Emmrich gently coaxes him to sit. “Emmrich? What was that about?” Rook inquires, studying the man’s face intently.

 

Emmrich sighs, kneeling before Rook as he starts to help him out of his boots and the armor he still wears. He remains quiet for a moment as he works, gaze fixed on his hands.

 

“Darling…” Emmrich sighs again, shaking his head. How does he make this easy? “It… may have felt like you were trapped in the Fade for only an hour. But…” he sets the last piece aside, taking Rook’s hands and finally looking up at him. “It’s been weeks, here, for us.”

 

Rook stared at Emmrich, absorbing the information. He feels a little lightheaded at that. Weeks? But that… “What…?”

 

Emmrich moves to sit beside Rook, his thumbs gently caressing the back of Rook’s hands. “The Fade… works on its own wavelength, dearest. Time can be morphed, like it was for you. But yes, it’s been at least three weeks since Lucanis killed Ghilan’nain and you were pulled into the Fade…”

 

Rook remains quiet, his next breath coming out shaky. It’s a lot for him to take in. Emmrich wraps an arm around Rook, pulling him close to his side, and Rook happily complies as he nestles against his lover. “I thought I’d lost you, my darling… for good. I’m so sorry.”

 

Rook sniffles, resting his head against Emmrich’s shoulder. “It’s alright, Emmrich. I’m okay.”

 

Emmrich shakes his head, gently tipping Rook’s chin up to see his face. His own eyes are full of the grief and pain he’s felt for weeks. “It’s not. I… I told you to take the dagger, and I couldn’t save you from the Fade… gah , and I shouldn’t have said those things, the night before, that argument, I hope you know I never meant—“

 

“Emmrich,” Rook says a little more sternly, shifting to sit up a little. “I don’t blame you, no one does. I know you did your best, and that’s more than enough. And that argument, it’s okay, we can talk more about it. But I’m here, that’s what matters.”

 

Emmrich hums, his gaze growing soft like it always does just for Rook. To have found someone so understanding and caring, even after everything he’s been through, Emmrich was the luckiest man alive. “Yes… I suppose you’re right.” He gently caresses Rook’s cheek, a gentle smile finally forming. “How are you feeling, my dear?”

 

“I’m alright, better than I was. I think i just… need time, to come to terms with everything that happened in the Fade.”

 

“I’m here when you want to talk about it, dearest.”

 

“Thank you, Emm.”

 

It’s then Manfred makes his appearance, bustling in with a tray of tea. “ Rook! ” Manfred rasps, holding out the tray proudly before setting it down.

 

Rook chuckles softly, a smile making its way onto his face. “Manfred! Oh, I missed you too, thank you.” Rook gently pats Manfred on his boney arm, the skeleton letting out a pleased hiss in return.

 

Emmrich pours them each a cup of tea, passing one to Rook as he settles back against the couch. Rook gently blows on the steaming cup before taking a sip, settling back into Emmrich’s side. Emmrich finally feels at peace again, like this, Rook safely back in his arms. With him, everything feels alright once again. He simply enjoys the moment, his fingers gently caressing the nape of Rook’s neck, gazing at him with nothing but love and tenderness.

 

“Emmrich?”

 

“Hmm?”

 

“Thank you for not giving up on me.”

 

“Always, dearest. I would move mountains just for you.” Emmrich smiles as Rook tilts his head up for a gentle kiss. Oh how he missed this, gentle moments where nothing existed but them together. A love he’d never thought he’d find.

 

Emmrich pulls away just enough to place a tender kiss to Rook’s temple. “We’ll get through this, together, like we always do.”