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“Rook, got another one for you.” Varric holds the fresh letter in his hand as he sorts the mail just arrived from the sending crystal. The parchment still smells strongly of sea air and hookah smoke.
Of Minrathous, her home.
Only one man writes to her these days. The same one who has sent at least three letters a week. For the last year.
The same man she has ignored. Never once replying. Acting as if she doesn't care. Though the old dwarf knows in the quiet light of tonight's fire, the note will mysteriously disappear. And if he looks hard enough, he will find them packed in a bag she thinks no one notices. Though he and Harding have both discovered its existence among her things. And how she often sleeps with it under her head. Cradling his words as if they are her most precious thing.
“Oh,” Rook replies as she looks up from the daggers she’s sharpening. Her face schooled neutral as she keeps her feelings close to her chest, though the slight twinkle of her eyes betrays her to Varric.
He's dealt with this bullshit too many times. Seen too many women fall head over heels and try to hide it. Though he's not sure who has done it worse at this point.
“I'm getting too old for this shit,” he grumbles to himself as he pats Bianca and lays the letter in its spot. Rook will come to her realizations when she's ready.
When she finally stops being mad at Ashur for sending her away.
Which is hopefully soon. Because if Inquisitor Trevelyan’s latest missive is any indication, they are headed for Tevinter.
“Hey kid,” he calls as she looks up once more. A frown of annoyance at his repeated interruptions, but one that quickly fades as she sees the hard set of his jaw as he crosses his arms over his chest. “You aren't going to like this, but we found Chuckles.”
“Why wouldn't I be happy about that?” she asks as she tilts her head in confusion. They've been searching for Solas for months. The Dread Wolf slipping through their fingers time and time again. They should be excited-
But her face morphs into disbelief and then anger as the old dwarf gives her a knowing glance. Understanding of their destination slaps her in the face like a stampeding druffalo as she huffs, “Oh Varric you cannot be serious-”
“Is he ever serious?” Harding asks as she appears from the bushes. An arm full of firewood deposited for the evening as she looks from Rook to Varric.
“I'm only serious when I have to be,” the old dwarf chuckles before turning somber. “And sadly right now is one of those times.”
“You cannot expect me to go back there. Not after he-” she realizes what she's about to say and freezes. Nails pressed into palms as she bites her lower lip. As if she can hold her feelings in like her words.
As if she still doesn't feel a sting of deepest betrayal even a year later.
“Look kid, I'm not going to talk about the thing you never want to talk about,” Varric replies as he rubs his growing beard in thought. “But we are going to Minrathous. You don't have to see he who must not be named if you don't want to, and if you want to stay here in Ferelden tending Harding's ma's sheep be my guest.”
He knows he has struck a chord when Rook's shoulders sink in on themselves. The usually fiery woman looking small as Harding comes to sit beside her and leans reassuringly against her friend.
“Well, I have never been a quitter before,” she finally says. Her voice holds little of her usual excitement at a new mission, but there's a resolve there that gives Varric hope she will be alright soon.
“I'm sorry, Rook,” Harding offers from beside her as Rook simply nods. The two have become quite close over the last year, and the old dwarf is thankful for her presence as she slings an arm over the larger woman's shoulder.
“Hey if it gets too rough, I will shoot him and you stab him. Just like the Orlais job right?”
That earns a chuckle as Rook tries to hide the shine to her eyes.
“Thanks Lace. You're the best,” she finally manages in a cracked voice.
“Don't mention it. It's what friends are for,” Harding replies with an easy grin. “Besides, it's a big city. We probably won't even see anyone we know.”
“She's right,” pipes up Varric. “We get in, nab our elvhen God, get out. And you don't have to see anyone you don't want to.”
He won't add that he is pretty sure she does want to see a certain Shadow Dragon leader, but that isn't a fact needed at the moment.
“You make it sound so easy.” Rook rolls her eyes at him. Sparks of her old self flaring to life at the support from her two friends.
“Oh come on, what's the worst that could happen?” he replies with a grin. “Now let's all get some shut eye for the night. Long trip starting tomorrow.”
He disappears inside his tent at those words, though the letter is left in its usual spot. Awaiting a certain rogue to steal it away in the dark. To devour long craved words and wish life was different. But for now, this is enough to get her by.