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Like most Watchers, it had been years since Emmrich last left the grounds of the Necropolis. To run into another Watcher outside Nevarra was rare enough, let alone someone whose company he enjoyed so much. The other Lighthouse residents were polite enough, for the most part, but Rook’s deeper appreciation for the art of necromancy quickly set him apart from the others. Emmrich’s blossoming feelings for Rook– or, Salvus, as the elf later insisted, were truly an unexpected delight.
Given the way he spoke to Emmrich– with coy smiles and endearing compliments, even at the most inopportune moments– it was possible Salvus shared those feelings, but Emmrich had no way of knowing if their flirting was simply an amusement to Salvus, or something more.
Surely there was no shame in an attraction towards the forbidden, but in Emmrich’s particular case, he worried there could be some harm done when the object of his affection was essentially his boss. That is, if one could call saving the world from the blighted gods a ‘job’. Semantics aside, the one they all called ‘Rook’ was the man in charge, and Emmrich was falling for him.
Enthusiastic hissing sounds pulled Emmrich from his daydreams. Standing directly behind him, his beloved assistant held up a shining metal tray with a single steaming teapot.
“Manfred! You startled me.” Emmrich chuckled, lightly.
Manfred hissed and gurgled in reply, utterly pleased with himself as he continued to offer the tray.
“You’re right, Manfred. I believe I have earned a short break.”
...
While living in the office that also functioned as his bedroom, Emmrich often had to remind himself that he couldn’t spend the entire day cooped up indoors. Even if ‘outdoors’ was simply more of the Fade, it was important to stretch one's legs every once and a while.
On the balcony outside the library, their resident assassin casually leaned against the railing, sipping a cup of coffee as he surveyed the little corner of the Fade they currently called home.
“Lucanis.” Emmrich greeted him, with a polite nod.
“Emmrich.” the assassin replied, curtly.
Across the courtyard, a flash of samite caught his eye. It was Salvus, dressed in his favorite outfit. The smooth leather and flared collar was an attractive look on the young Watcher, but Crow suits did little to fend off the elements.
On their last visit to the Necropolis, Salvus hadn’t said a word, but Emmrich caught him shivering on more than one occasion. Their dear leader was always going out of his way to make sure the residents of the Lighthouse had their needs met, but he had an unfortunate tendency to overlook his own.
“Lucanis, might I have a word?” Emmrich asked, as he approached the other man on the balcony.
“You have a job for me?”
“Potentially. That outfit Salvus recently started wearing. Is it true you helped him acquire it?”
Lucanis nodded. “I did. He needed something with actual boots. Why?”
“Where exactly did you find such an ensemble?”
“It’s custom. From my tailor in Treviso.”
A custom piece might complicate things a smidge, but Emmrich couldn’t give up on his quest. “Well, I was hoping to find something similar- For myself, of course.” he added, in a rush. “No harm in varying one’s wardrobe.”
The assassin narrowed his eyes in disbelief. “Right… Of course.”
Emmrich tugged at the collar of his shirt, hoping to stop its constriction. “Does your tailor work exclusively in leathers, or do they use other materials as well?”
“He’s a crow. He specializes in tactical wear– comfortable clothes for fighting in. Did you have something particular in mind?”
“Yes. A new coat, if possible? Something warm, for visits to the Necropolis. It gets quite cold being so far underground.” he explained. The more he spoke, the more suspicious Lucanis became, but he hadn’t questioned Emmrich’s flimsy ruse quite yet.
“I see. I’m assuming you’d like something to match your…” Lucanis dragged his eyes along the taller man’s frame. “Current color palette?”
Determined to maintain his lie, Emmrich did his best to keep an even facial expression. “Actually, I’ve taken a liking to the new style Salvus has adopted. ‘Crow chic’, if you will.”
“I will not. No Crow would.”
“Regardless, do you think you could put me in touch with your tailor?”
“Sure, I can send him your measurements.”
“Ah…” Another complication. “Right. I will get those to you as soon as I can. Thank you, Lucanis.”
“Don’t mention it.”
----------------------------------------------
One particular morning, Salvus awoke to find one of his belongings missing. Specifically, the shirt to his favorite outfit. He searched high and low throughout the room he’d been sleeping in, but to no avail. Ordinarily he’d just pick something else, but on a day he planned to visit the Necropolis with Emmrich, he wanted to look his best. Initially, he suspected the wisps, but Neve had already assured him that the wisps could only lift smaller objects– not that it stopped them from making a mess of her office.
He suddenly hoped that Assan hadn’t taken it. The baby griffon was particularly ruthless with anything he chose to teethe on.
With only the trousers and boots left from his outfit, Salvus chose to venture outside his room to see if the shirt had been abandoned nearby. Hopefully he’d find it before Assan did. When Salvus stepped out into the hallway, he heard a distinct hissing sound from the room next door, and decided to pay a visit to his favorite neighbor.
He found the necromancer reading a book, leaning comfortably against his desk.
“Emmrich!” Salvus greeted, as he strode into the room. “Quick question.” He couldn’t help but smile as he watched Emmrich’s eyes widen, blush coloring his cheeks at the sight of his bare chest.
Salvus was far from self-conscious about his body. His scars from battles past– and from the healers who helped him– were badges of the life he lived. The fact that it caused such an endearing reaction from Emmrich was simply an added benefit.
“How can I be of service?” Emmrich asked, as the blush creeped into the tips of his ears.
“My shirt appears to be missing, I don’t suppose you’ve seen it, have you?”
“I… don’t believe I’ve- Manfred!” Emmrich’s eyes darted over to his assistant as a pleased hissing sound filled the room.
Salvus turned to see the skeleton holding his missing shirt.
“What are you doing with that!” Emmrich scolded, nearly dropping his book as he rushed over to take the shirt back. “I do apologize, I’ve no idea where he got the idea to-” he stammered, clearly embarrassed by Manfred’s behavior, rather than angry.
“It’s alright, Emmrich.” Salvus chuckled, happily accepting the shirt and slipping it over his head. “No harm done. At least he’s got a good sense of style.”
“I assure you, this will not happen again.”
“Not a problem. Maybe I’ll have to let him borrow it sometime.” Salvus replied, smiling at Manfred before turning his attention back to Emmrich. “So, are you almost ready to head out? Bellara is meeting us by the Eluvian.”
“Yes, certainly.” Emmrich breathed a sigh of relief. “Just let me get my things.” He set his book down on the desk, before disappearing up the stairs.
Salvus wandered along the bookcases lining Emmrich’s study, admiring the impressive collection of the Senior Necromancer. His library alone was every mage’s dream, let alone the pristine collection of skulls that could put any necromancer to shame.
“If you have a moment, Salvus,” Emmrich began, as he descended the spiral stairs, carrying a box under his arm.
Salvus forced himself not to stare shamelessly at his hands, transfixed as one glided along the railing. “Uh- of course!” he finally answered.
Emmrich smiled brightly as he presented the neatly wrapped box, stamped with a purple mark of the Crows. “This is for you.”
“For me?” Salvus felt his heart skip a beat as he eyed the box. “What’s the occasion?”
“Consider it a poor repayment for all you do for us.”
It was true, Salvus made a habit of checking in on his team whenever possible. If they were going to survive an encounter with the gods, he needed them at their very best. Tending to their needs was often time-consuming, and left him with very few hours to himself, but he had to admit he enjoyed the unique tasks presented by the job.
Salvus tried his best not to tear too viciously through the wrapping, but it was difficult to mask his eagerness as he pulled out a brand-new insulated leather overcoat. A perfect match to his favorite outfit from Antiva.
“Oh, Emmrich… this is amazing! Where did you get it?”
Emmrich grinned with pride as Salvus immediately tried it on. Somehow, it fit perfectly.
“Lucanis gave me the name of the tailor who made your current ensemble.”
“And you got Manfred to steal my clothes to get my measurements?” Salvus guessed.
“I did no such thing.” Emmrich replied, pretending to be scandalized by the accusation. “I may have borrowed one of your shirts one afternoon while you were out, but I never asked Manfred to steal anything.” he assured him. “I believe he may have misunderstood what we were doing.”
Salvus laughed. His heart warmed to know that Emmrich had gone to such lengths just to get him a new coat. “It’s a perfect fit.” he beamed. “Thank you, so much.”
“Perhaps now you won’t be shivering during our visits home.” Emmrich teased.
Home.
Salvus liked the way that sounded. He liked the way everything sounded when Emmrich said it. From his long-winded explanations on the intricacies of corpse-whispering, to the cheerful excerpts recited from his metaphysics lectures at the Necropolis, Salvus could listen to him talk forever.
“I love it.” he added. A poor replacement for the words he wanted to say to Emmrich.
‘I love you.’
