Work Text:
She'd gone into her room and kicked the wardrobe, then hopped on one foot cursing all the gods she could think of for the pain in her big toe. She stormed around, packing the things she needed, taking inventory and trying not to think of the stubborn fool next door to her.
I need a drink.
When she finished, she picked up her bag, marched out of her room and past Emmrich's loud enough so that he'd hear her wrath.
One of us needs to consider these things!
She scoffed to herself. She had to think about death every day as a Warden. What does he know about her “considerations”? She’s spent the past 5 years not knowing if she will make it to see the next week, and the last few months have been even more dire.
Who does he think he is?
Someone who is as scared as you are, someone you want to protect, someone who loves you.
When she got down the stairs, she chucked her bag against the meeting table with such force that Bellara, who was poring over some maps of Tearstone Island, jumped.
“Oh! Rook, I was just going over the plans again.” She got up, wringing her hands. “Are you okay? Did you trip?”
Rook shook her head and tried to rearrange her face into an expression that wouldn't scare the Maker out of Bellara.
“Oh, you know me,” Rook tried to say casually, “don’t know my own strength.”
She went to strike a pose to show off her biceps, but her heart wasn't in it. Her arms flopped to her side and she groaned in frustration. Bellara sidled up to her and put a hand on her shoulder.
“I think we're all on edge tonight with, well, what's happening tomorrow.” She gave Rook a nervous smile, “That's why I'm going over the plans!” She gestured to the table. “Helps me keep on track and not think about if, um… things go wrong…” She shook her head. “Sorry, I’m thinking about it again! Do you want to join me?”
Rook placed her hand on Bellara’s and smiled at her.
“Thanks, Bel, but I think I’m going to grab a drink. You’re more than welcome to come join in the dining hall if you start going cross-eyed from staring at those maps.”
“Oh! I think I’ll be fine, but I will join you a bit later, I think.” Bellara smiled back at her. “Thanks, Rook.”
Rook’s throat clenched.
You shouldn’t be thanking me.
“No problem, Bel. I’ll see you later.”
She'd met Neve and Davrin in the dining hall initially, with Taash joining them a bit later, but her foul mood and grunting replies decidedly soured the mood. Neve breached the subject first.
“You okay, Rook? I mean, besides the obvious.”
“Oh, just peachy.”
She ignored the look Neve and Davrin exchanged and took the opportunity to swipe Davrin’s Warden Vintage he’d concocted.
Taash sniffed. “You fight with Emmrich?” they asked.
Rook froze mid-swig of the bottle and regarded them suspiciously. “How do you know that?”
The corner of Taash’s mouth quirked up. “You’re obviously pissed at something besides the messed up sun and I can smell his scent on you.” They took a swig of their own drink and Davrin snatched his bottle back from Rook with a grumble.
“And I heard you guys when I was in my room.”
“Ah.” Rook wanted very much for her chair to fall into the Fade right about now. She mentally shook herself and plastered her usual charming grin on her face. “We… Don’t worry about it. Lover’s quarrel, right? We just need to focus on tomorrow, and take this night to prepare.” She raised her bottle of Anders stout. “And drink like it’s our last. Who’s with me?”
Davrin raised his own bottle. “Here, here!”
Taash followed suit with their dragon growl, but Neve eyed Rook with skepticism. Rook returned it with a wink.
“Don’t think you can keep up, detective?”
Neve laughed. “Oh, I know I can’t, between the three of you.” She pushed her chair back and raised her hand as the three of them jeered her for backing out. “And I also know what a motivator a bruised heart can be.”
Rook’s smile faltered slightly, but she quickly recovered. “Hear that, you two? I’ve got the edge.”
With that, she started downing her own drink while Taash and Davrin cheered.
—
“Dearest, how much have you had to drink?”
Rook opened a heavy lid to peer at Emmrich blearily from where she was slumped over. She caught Lucanis’ eye as he was sneaking out of the doors of the dining hall and he gave her an apologetic grimace.
Grass. She groaned and dragged herself up. “Not that much.”
He raised an eyebrow as he surveyed the empty bottles scattered on the table.
“Lucanis said you’ve almost cleared out his entire stock of Antivan wine,” he chastised, “and that was apparently after you’d drained the last of that stout you indulge in.”
“We all have our vices,” she slurred, reaching for the closest bottle on the table.
“And Harding said that she and Taash had to carry young Davrin back to his chambers!”
“He’s a big boy, not my fault he thinks he can outdrink me.” Irritation started to needle at her. “Why d’you even care?”
“You know I care,” he shifted and put his fist on his hip and held the other hand in front of him. She loved it when he did that, he looked so dashing, so in control…
No! I'm angry at you.
“Stop doin’ that.”
He stiffened. “Doing what?”
“Bein’ attractive.” She sat back in the chair cradling the wine, glaring at him.
“Rook, now is decidedly not the time!” He moved closer towards her, his brows knitted together with worry, which pissed her off even more. “How do you intend to lead us into battle if half the team has a hangover?”
“Haven't had a hangover since the Joinin’,” she hiccupped, “And I can jus’ heal the others.”
“That's not-” he sighed. “Are you going to do this every time we go up against something dangerous?”
“Maybe,” she pouted, bristling at her own words being thrown back at her. “Maybe I jus’ wanted to have one last bit of fun, seeing as I will most probably die tomorrow.”
She saw the slightest grimace in his face and the irritation the drink had dampened started to bubble up again.
“Rook…”
“Oh , I’ve been thinkin’ about it, all right. Not jus’ me, but Taash, Neve, Davrin, Bellara, Lucanis, Harding…”
You. She was too angry to say it. Her eyes burned with tears she would not, could not let shed. She could already feel herself sobering up. Blasted Blight.
“All these people, marchin’ to their impending doom, because I brought them here. But no-o,” she mocked, “I don’t consider these things!” She turned in her seat to face him properly, so that he could see the veins of Blight on her face and meet her milky-white eyes.
“Look at me! Do you really think I don’t look in the mirror every day and consider my own mortality?”
“That's enough,” he said firmly, his jaw set. “You've had enough .”
“As you say,” she said sarcastically.
She felt some satisfaction when she noticed the hand in front of him had clenched into a fist at her words, which was instantly frozen out by guilt. She averted her gaze and brought the bottle to her lips to finish it off, but found it plucked from her by his deft hand. She scowled at him, which he returned with a glare of his own as he put the bottle down, drawing up to his full height and crossing his arms.
She opened her mouth to continue arguing, or apologise, or profess her love, but the words stuck in her throat. She growled in frustration and started massaging her temples, exhaustion dousing her anger.
“If you are quite finished,” said Emmrich, his voice stern, “I’m now going to assist you to your quarters.”
“I can get there myself, thank you.” She pushed her chair back with a shove. “And don’t speak to me like one of your students.”
“Dearest…”
“Don't “dearest” me!” She got up to storm off, but almost fell over her chair, her body still feeling the effects of the alcohol even as her mind cleared. Emmrich ran his hand over his face wearily as she clung to it as if it was the last of the dignity she had.
“Stop being so obstinate.” He offered his arm to her and she protested weakly before reluctantly taking it and leaning on him as they started walking to the dining hall doors. “This conversation is going nowhere and you are far too inebriated to discuss things civilly,” he snapped.
She snorted despite herself. “How charitable of you to suggest that I've ever conducted myself civil…ly…”
Rook looked up to the sky as they exited the dining hall into the red haze caused by Elgar'nan's eclipse. The sight of the Fade affected so was enough to sober her up all the way and let that dread she was trying so hard to numb start creeping back. She didn't realise how hard she was squeezing Emmrich's arm until he brushed his hand over hers to alert her. She mumbled an apology and they walked across the courtyard, down the steps and through the main room in silence.
As they climbed up the steps and passed Taash's room, a loud laugh that she recognised as Harding’s floated down the corridor. She swallowed the bitterness rising up and tried not to think about how her situation with her own partner had devolved into this stony silence. She snuck a peek at Emmrich and her heart squeezed at the sight of his tense jaw and frown.
When they arrived at her room, Emmrich walked her to her sofa and she plopped down unceremoniously. An awkward silence stretched between them, Rook staring forward morosely at the aquarium to avoid Emmrich's piercing gaze. Eventually, he cleared his throat and crossed his arms.
“I will ask Manfred to fetch you some water,” he said stiffly. “Then I will ensure that the team leaves you be, including myself.” He stuck his chin out resolutely, but his next words were coloured with emotion, “Is that what you wish?”
Her lips pressed into a thin line and she gripped the edge of the sofa, still staring ahead. The burning behind her eyes started again and she blinked furiously to keep the tears at bay. She couldn’t say anything, tell him how she feels and how sorry she is, lest they start to fall. After a few moments, Emmrich shifted his weight and exhaled hard through his nose.
“Very well. Goodnight, Rook.”
Rook knew exactly how many steps he took between her sofa and her door. She counted them every time he left her room or joined her.
Clack, clack, clack…
Say something, you fool woman!
Clack… clack…
Every fibre of her being screamed for her to get up and go to him, stop him from leaving her side, assure him that she’ll care for him…
Clack…
Die for him…
Clack.
Live for you.
“Please, don't go.”
Her voice was so quiet that Emmrich almost didn’t hear her plea, but he paused with his hand on the doorknob, about to pull it closed behind him. He turned to look at her and any annoyance that was still on his face fell away to worry.
She sat with her head hanging down, hair in her face and shoulders rounded with anxiety. She couldn't believe that she would let any of her team see her like this, least of all Emmrich.
You're supposed to be their leader; fearless, cunning, scrappy, whatever they need you to be, she clenched her hands together, Not a drunken mess ready to hurl herself off the edge of the courtyard into the Fade, begging for comfort.
She heard her door click closed and she let out a shaky breath. Maybe he didn't hear her, maybe he'd finally reached his limit with her. She put her head in her hands, but before she could start berating herself for pushing away her love on the last night they may have together, her head snapped up at the sound of his footsteps coming towards her.
The relief washed over her as he sat down beside her and took her hand in his. She turned head to meet his gaze and he ran a gentle hand over her face, tucking her hair behind her ear. She closed her eyes and breathed through her nose to stop the tears, but a quiet sob escaped her when Emmrich's lips pressed against her forehead.
They stayed like that for a moment while she tried to ground herself. She focused on the roughness of his moustache against her brow, his thumb gently caressing her cheek, the coolness of his rings on the hand grasping hers in her lap, his scent; earthy, rich and floral. She focused on it until her next exhale was more steady.
“Stay with me,” she whispered, not trusting her voice not to break.
He removed his lips from her brow and looked down at her. She took in his face, mapping everything there as if it was the last time she'd see it; every line of concern on his forehead, the mole on the side of his nose, his perfectly trimmed moustache, his kind but tired eyes, his lips …
“Of course I will,” he said earnestly.
Rook leaned forward then and softly placed her lips against his. He reciprocated immediately, cupping her face with the hand that was on her cheek.
When they parted, Rook got up and busied herself by getting into her night clothes and getting Emmrich’s own nightshirt from her wardrobe. Emmrich followed suit and she left him to undo the ungodly amount of buttons on his shirt, as he was always more swift than her.
There was still a certain tension in the air, but the silence between them was familiar. When she was dressed, she sat down and watched him fondly as he worked. Usually, she would be keen to take over, her hands clumsy in their eagerness to get him into any state of undress. He'd tut in mock-disapproval when she batted his hands away and would chuckle at her exasperation.
Tonight was not the night, however. She was more than content to have his calming presence with her. When he was done, she passed him his nightshirt and he pulled it over his head, messing up his coif. Her heart skipped at the fact she was allowed to see this side of him, a man usually so meticulous and put-together standing before her in a loose nightshirt and tousled hair. She could kick herself for almost pushing him away.
She shifted up so that he could lay down on the inside of the couch and then she took her place beside him. It felt like she had never left his embrace.
I swear this seat's gotten bigger since he's started staying here more often. She voiced this to him and snuggled closer to his chest, her eyelids falling shut.
“The Fade reflects reality,” he said softly, nuzzling her hair. “If the reality is that the sleeping arrangements need to be better suited for two, it will be so.”
“So, the Lighthouse knows that I want you here?” she mumbled, fingers dragging lazily over his bangles.
A pause.
“It must be so.”
They fell quiet again, his hand absentmindedly stroking her arm. After a few minutes, it stilled. He closed his eyes and took a steadying breath.
“Rook, I-”
A gentle snore from her cut him off. He exhaled in exasperation, but when he looked down at her, his expression was fond. He knew there was no point in waking her to apologise now, the heavy sleeper she was. He settled, trying his best not to disturb her and closed his eyes.