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It had been three weeks, and Neve still hadn’t found them. No word on Bellara, or even a hint as to where she might be. They all were fairly certain Rook was in the Fade — if he’s even still alive, her mind added — but they didn’t know that. Solas was free, and in Minrathous. He had the lyrium dagger. It stood to reason, then, that Rook had been trapped in Solas’ prison in his place. But even if that were true, it didn’t tell them how to get him out.
The dagger they commissioned from Kal-Sharok looked like the real deal, but couldn’t cut through the various enchantments that made up the Veil. Everything she and Emmrich tried failed. Maybe Bel could have…
But that wasn’t a thought worth finishing. Because Bellara wasn’t there. Rook wasn’t there. They’d come up empty time and time again, and soon they would have to reckon with the necessity of moving forward without them.
Without him.
Admitting that felt like a betrayal. But not finishing this job for him would feel worse, and so Neve forced herself to walk the too quiet path through the Lighthouse to Rook’s room. The metal hinges on his always creaky doors groaned as she entered, the sound ricocheting around the room in a way that felt mocking.
He’s not here. He’s not coming back. Neve swallowed hard and blinked away tears.
She couldn’t break down. Not yet. She would finish this job. For him.
Neve felt a pang of guilt as she began sifting through Rook’s things. Although he was a fundamentally honest person, he was a surprisingly private one. She’d be willing to wager that other than her and Harding, no one else in the Lighthouse even knew his legal name. He got away with it, too, because he was so personable and charming that he made people feel like they knew him, even if they didn’t.
And so, despite her instincts, Neve had respected his privacy. Mostly.
But now, she couldn’t. The well had run dry and if she was going to finish this for him — and she was going to finish this for him — she had to know what he knew. Everything he knew.
Neve went over to the stack of papers she had seen the last time she’d been in Rook’s space. There had been notes on strategy that would undoubtedly be helpful. Despite most outward appearances, Rook took the job very seriously and was dedicated in figuring out every possible advantage they could use.
It wasn’t enough, her brain unhelpfully supplied.
Finding them right where she’d left them, Neve next went over to the small table by his wardrobe. Like her own, Rook’s organizational system for his papers was — had been , her traitorous mind corrected — freeform, so she was liable to find more notes nearly anywhere.
Yours is worse, she could almost hear him protest with that teasing smile, and her heart hurt.
His box of supplies — ingredients for poisons, vials of finished product, and lock picks — would only be helpful later.
There was something about the box, though, as she looked through it…it was too shallow. The bottom she saw didn’t match the other dimensions. Carefully, Neve lifted out the top portion, revealing a hidden leather folio below.
With some trepidation, she took it before replacing the top portion.
Next she checked another small side table littered with detritus, sitting below the singed map curiously labeled Qarinus rather than Ventus. She knew Rook was from Ventus, the map made sense, it was the labeling of it that was odd.
You never got to ask him about it.
There was another untidy stack of Rook’s work papers nearby. Neve skimmed them as she pulled out what was relevant. Analyses of some of their enemies and allies. Detailed hand-drawn maps. She’d even, she realized, found his notes on the members of the team themselves.
Well, reading those would be interesting.
She took another tour around the room, including checking the wardrobe, before collecting up what she had found to return to her office.
Neve had no desire to stay in Rook’s room longer than absolutely necessary. She avoided the room entirely when she could — indeed hadn’t been back since she’d gone in for a book two weeks before — though she knew he wouldn’t be bothered. It was too still without him, empty of his buzzing energy and unconscious movement. Wrong.
The sob she refused to let out nearly choked her as she left. She was glad she’d done this now, while Emmrich, Lucanis, and Taash were at Tearstone Island (another dead end lead, probably) and Harding was in the Hossburg Wetlands.
Neve had almost regained equilibrium by the time she sat down at her desk and set Rook’s papers in front of her. Curiosity nipped at her, and she couldn’t help but start with his notes on her, written in that precise script that was always a jarring departure from how informal he was in every other way.
Neve Gallus - Private Investigator. “Slick”. From Dock Town in Minrathous. Laetan mage. Ice. Time.
He’d scribbled in healing next, seemingly at a later date.
Used to working alone. Professional demeanor, but kind unless pressed. Cynical, which makes sense. Personally seems to get on best with Lucanis and Bellara. Fights best with Lucanis and Harding.
Strengths: intimidatingly smart — she snorted — disciplined work ethic, thorough, ice magic, shielding, time magic?, healing.
Weaknesses: Not used to working with a team, struggles with trust, so attractive that it makes me dumber than usual.
“Oh, Trouble,” she murmured, voice thick. After blinking away tears, she set it aside.
She pored over the loose papers for hours, making her own notes on what would be useful, until all that was left was…it. The leather folio.
Neve wasn’t sure there would be anything relevant to what they needed to do in there — doubted it, honestly — but if there was and she didn’t find it, she would hate herself.
She needed to get this done.
Hands slightly trembling, Neve undid the thin leather cord keeping the folio closed and then turned it open.
More papers and a medallion lie inside. Neve picked the medallion up, though she knew it wasn’t relevant, and turned it over. It was an optio’s badge. Her brow furrowed as she considered it. Rook had mentioned that his parents had both been part of the Imperium’s legions, but from what he’d said, his father was higher in the military hierarchy than an optio. It would be odd of Rook to have kept this if it was his father’s, rather than the one he’d held when he died.
She set it aside, and found the explanation almost immediately. Dishonorable discharge papers for Optio Micah Mercar. Rook.
She had suspected he’d been a legionnaire, even though he’d always avoided confirming it. Something that had both impressed and frustrated her. It would have been more gratifying to be proven correct if he’d been here.
Neve’s eyes burned.
Though he’d never mentioned serving, let alone being a junior officer, Neve knew it was common for military families to expect their sons to join the legions as well. Combined with his tendency to stand tall — as though at attention — when challenged; the way he’d always avoided letting anyone look too closely at the burn scar on his forearm, the brand of his alleged dishonor she now realized; the poisons he used, and his skill with blades…
It made sense.
The dishonorable discharge paperwork, citing insubordination, made sense too.
Oh, Trouble.
Two testamenta — his parents’ — were next, and Neve set those aside immediately. Reading those felt like a step too far.
Records from Rook’s education were in there as well. She didn’t go through them, though Neve noted with interest that he had apparently been sent to the military school in Minrathous. No wonder he seemed so at home there, despite his Ventus roots.
The last paper, however, froze her in place.
Another testamentum. His, this time. And he’d seemingly amended it since his time in the legions.
Because Neve Gallus of Minrathous - Laetan citizen was named as Rook’s heir.
She stood so fast, she almost toppled her chair.
She couldn’t do this. Her heart was in her throat, her vision blurred by unshed tears, as she stepped outside to try and regain control of her breathing.
Why would you do this, Trouble?
She could almost hear him chuckling in response. You know why. C’mon, you’re the best detective in Minrathous.
She hugged herself as she struggled to calm down.
Can’t remember to wash his sheets, but remembers to update his testamentum? He’s ridiculous. She chuckled softly, and chose to ignore that the sound was wet.
Neve couldn’t say how long she stood out there, focusing on her breathing as she tried to regain her emotional balance, before shouting from the Lighthouse shook her from her thoughts.
She wiped her eyes quickly, and then ran towards the Lighthouse, nearly colliding with Taash as they burst out.
“We got him!”
Hope, weak and sickly, stirred in Neve’s chest.
“Got who?” She asked cautiously.
Taash grinned widely. “Rook! They’re bringing him in now.”
Neve sprinted to the eluvian, faster than she’d probably ever run, Taash not far behind.
“I’m fine,” she heard Rook say as she pushed open the door. She’d never been so grateful to hear him complain about Emmrich running spelled hands over him to check for injuries.
There he was. Whining, maybe, but here. Alive and here.
His eyes caught hers, and it took every bit of willpower she possessed not to cry. Rook gave her a small, reassuring smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Sorry. I think I took the long way home.”
“Looks like it,” she agreed, voice thick.
She watched as Emmrich checked Rook over. She didn’t see any physical injuries, or at least no serious ones, but something in his face was…haunted. He looked like he’d spent their weeks apart being broken down bit by bit. It made Neve’s heart hurt.
What had he been through?
Once Emmrich was satisfied and had stepped back, Neve closed the distance, throwing her arms around him.
Her grip around him was tight, though no tighter than his around her, as she held Rook against her. Warm, breathing, alive, and here. He was here.
Neve wasn’t sure this was real, but hugging him helped. She felt him rest his head atop hers and heard him murmur, “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t,” she answered, just as quiet but voice firm. “Don’t be sorry. You found a way out.”
He squeezed her once before letting go. “Let me go get changed — do I smell like Fade? I probably smell like Fade — and then we’ll meet in the library so you all can fill me in on what I missed,” he said.
Loathe though she was to let him out of her sight, Neve nodded along with Emmrich and Taash.
The others filed out of the room, while Neve held back with Rook to bring up the rear.
“What do you need, Trouble?”
Because if it was in Neve’s power to provide, she would.
He shook his head slightly, and then gave her a shadowed variation of his usual sweet smile. “Just…wanna walk me to my room?”
“Sure.” Neve laced their fingers together as they made their way up the stairs. “If you don’t come out in five minutes, I’ll come find you,” she warned.
“Fair enough.” Rook kissed her cheek. “Be right out.” He went into his room, the doors closing behind him, and Neve wrestled down the urge to fling them open and follow.
He was back.
The tight feeling in her chest lessened slightly.
He was back.