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“So, Neve, you’re an ice mage, right?”
Neve lowers the notes she’s been reading to raise an eyebrow at Rook. He’s giving her an inquisitive look, hair falling in his eyes like it often does. His question sounds innocent enough. As a fellow mage, it shouldn’t be out of the ordinary for him to be interested in where her specialties lie.
But Neve has known Rook for a week or so now. And she’s found that there’s a particular intonation he uses when he wants something from her, but isn’t entirely sure how to ask it.
Today though, Neve can’t quite figure out what has prompted his question. There’s something curious in his eyes for sure, but it’s not enough to tell her what he wants.
“I think we’ve established that, yes,” she replies, narrowing her eyes to peer at his face as if that will reveal his ulterior motive to her. Sometimes it works. Rook’s Wicked Grace face is practically nonexistent and his features are very expressive. He seems to be aware of that too, to his own chagrin usually.
Rook leans forward, resting his chin on his fist. “Is it difficult to learn?”
Ah. And there they have it.
It figures that he’s curious. With Bellara added to their team, there are currently three mages in the Lighthouse, all with different abilities. Bellara’s skill set is quite obvious. She has an almost natural connection to the Fade, and the way she understands various artifacts is thoroughly impressive. Rook’s skills are rougher around the edges, more focused on doing as much damage as possible, especially to darkspawn. Which stands to reason, he is a Warden after all.
“It takes a certain finesse,” she tells him, putting down her notes. “But it can be learned, with practice.”
Rook makes a thoughtful noise, stirring the soup bowl in front of him. Steam is still rising from it, so he leaves it be, tearing off a piece of bread instead.
“I suppose you want me to teach you something?” Neve remarks, trying to hold back the grin that pulls on her lips at his hopeful expression.
She’s noticed that he mostly relies on lightning magic, though she has seen him cast the occasional fire spell as well. And while he seems to have his magic well enough under control, he can also be somewhat… impulsive. From what Neve understands, Rook did spent a few years in a mage circle at Weisshaupt, but it’s clear that a lot of his skills have come from the necessity to simply survive.
“Lightning is fun and all, but sometimes you just want to freeze things, you know?” Rook says, waving his bread around. “Give yourself some breathing space.”
Neve hums. “I guess having an extra trick up your sleeve wouldn’t hurt.”
Rook perks up immediately, as if he’s ready to jump up and drag her to the courtyard so she can teach him. But he restrains himself, pushing his bowl of soup forward with a delighted look in his eyes instead.
“Could you cool this down?”
Neve chuckles, gathering her notes so she can put them aside. It’s been a while since she’s used her magic for something so trivial, but she supposes it’s good to start Rook off with something small. Ice magic can be finicky after all.
She rubs her thumb and index finger together, feeling the magic gather at her fingertips, then she reaches out and touches Rook’s bowl. The steam disappears immediately. For the briefest of seconds, it seems like her demonstration is successful. Then the soup freezes over so fast that ice forms on the outside of it. Another second passes in which both Neve and Rook watch the inevitable happen with morbid fascination.
The clay bowl shatters in front of them and Neve flings her arm in front of her face just in time to prevent any pieces from hitting her. When she lowers it, she sees Rook has has done the same. Their eyes meet, both of them processing what just happened, then they burst into laughter.
“Well, it’s definitely not hot anymore—“ Rook wheezes, poking the block of ice that used to be his soup, the spoon still sticking out of it. “Finesse, you said?”
Neve should probably be embarrassed at her terrible display of magic. She doesn’t know where it went wrong, she didn’t do anything different than usual. But she also finds she doesn’t really care.
“Yes, well,” she starts, still chuckling, “as you can see, ice magic can also be very unpredictable.”
Rook smirks, wiggling his eyebrows. “Now that I can work with.”
Oh yes, she knows he can. Thinking on his feet is a skill Rook has displayed several times already in the brief time they’ve known each other. Though the results have been… mixed so far.
She stands up from the table, carefully wiping the shards of the bowl together in a pile. The soup is starting to melt already, liquid slowly gathering in the grooves of the wood.
“If we put it in a new bowl, do you think we could heat it up again with magic?” Rook wonders and even with all her detective skills, Neve isn’t sure if he’s joking or not.
“I’m not sure Harding will appreciate us experimenting more on her soup,” she hums, looking around to find something to clean up the mess they’ve made. Remembering some cloths and towels she saw in the kitchen earlier, she heads over to the little corner that holds the magical stove and starts searching through the cabinets.
“Ah!” Rook hisses, and when she turns he’s standing behind her, holding the frozen soup between his hands. She gives him an incredulous look, quickly grabbing an empty bowl from the counter to hold out to him.
Rook drops the block of ice-soup into it, then flaps his hands around to get rid of the frostbite. Neve shakes her head at him, wondering how this guy is the same one who managed to stop a dangerous ritual with his quick thinking. Maybe, she has made a vital mistake in offering to teach him ice magic. Rook, however, certainly doesn’t seem to see it that way.
“So, when do I get my first lesson?” he asks, excitement still obvious as he wipes his fingers on his trousers.
“Let’s clean our mess up first,” Neve chuckles, handing him a cloth, “then we’ll see about some magic lessons.”
The grin he gives is so endearing that she’s almost taken aback by it, and she’s reminded again of how young Rook still is. Despite being a Warden and a skilled enough mage already, there’s an innocent edge to him that she knows she herself lost years ago. But, Neve thinks, maybe that’s exactly what the world needs right now. Someone not so hardened by trauma or circumstances. Someone with a good and decent heart, who still gets excited about learning new magic and soup.
As she walks back to the table to wipe up the shards, however, she make a mental note not to let Rook talk her into cooling down his food ever again.