Chapter Text
"This seat taken?"
In front of their corner booth stands a lean qunari man, wearing a well-fitting dress shirt and jeans under his long overcoat. He nods his horned head towards the empty spot in the booth to Solas' left.
Their current location, being a rather exclusive club that didn't let any unknown personnel in, and the fact that the man had just strolled in without the bouncers looking twice at him, indicated he might be who they were here for.
Without needing to look, Solas lightly taps Felassan's thigh, to his right. The bodyguard looks at him briefly, before retracting his hand from where it was reaching under his coat for a weapon.
Solas takes a moment to study the stranger's face; neatly trimmed short brown hair, sideburns and a moustache, a scar on his nose. And sharp eyes sizing him up just as much. This must be him. He’d gotten a message through one of his people of a qunari with certain allegiances seeking an audience with the Dread Wolf, and qunari were not all that common in these parts.
"Depending who you are, it might be yours." He replies, breaking the silent stare-off.
"Name's Rook, but I have a feeling you already know that, Fen'harel." When Solas only hums in response, the man takes that as his cue to sit down.
"Nice to finally put a face to the name I've heard much about." Rook continues, holding out his hand for a handshake. His larger hand clasps Solas', but he doesn't squeeze too tight. Briefly side-eyeing Felassan, the man decides not to mention this was supposed to be a one on one meeting.
"I fear I can’t say that we've heard all that much about you, Rook. But I suppose you must have something about you besides a pretty face, to keep such company." Felassan quips from Solas’ other side.
"Ah, you mean Varric?" Rook says, flashing a smile.
"Among others." Solas flatly replies, not amused. He pretends not to hear Felassan quietly cough next to him. Rook's smile turns into more of a smirk.
"Well, I’m going to make an educated guess that if you know of my acquaintances, I’ll also assume you know that's why I'm here. They screwed me over, big time. So I'm ready to repay the favor, and heard you might be able to help with that."
When Solas only hums in response, the qunari's face turns serious.
"I need a place to lay low for a while, some backup, and then we'll take down the Inquisitor and the remains of her so-called Inquisition." Rook notices the elf tense up at the name, as expected. "I have the intel and you have the resources, but neither has both."
“Intriguing proposal, though I fail to see an adequate reward for the trouble of sheltering you. The Inquisitor and I have come to a truce of sorts, what makes you think I would like to see her removed?”
Rook gives a close-lipped, forced smile.
“Funnily enough she didn't seem to have the same reservations about you. I've heard she's putting the pieces in place to make her move.”
Solas glances at Felassan for a brief second, who gives a shrug. He lets out a small sigh, the pros and cons already weighed in his mind. Though the scales are almost equal, one side weighs heavier.
"It's a risk, although I suppose we can just get rid of you if it doesn't work out. Welcome on board, Rook."
-=+=-
The trio don't take long to exit through the discreetly lit back door, where a car with tinted windows is parked. With a silent look passed between the elves, Felassan gets into the driver's seat as Solas holds open the car's back door.
“You know, when I asked for help, I thought maybe you’d take a day or two to consider your options, let me get my belongings and-”
“Get in the car.” Felassan calls, sounding like something between a joke and a threat. Solas lets out a small chuckle.
"After you." His tone isn't quite sincere, yet also not quite mocking. Eyebrows raised in almost a joking manner, if one were to even believe him capable of such. Then again, Varric had described the man to Rook as enigmatic. Not cold, but guarded.
"Why, thank you." Rook drawls, flashing a quick smile as he ducks his head into the car. He doesn't have time to see Solas' expression subtly shift at the sight.
The elf slides into the backseat next to him, quietly pulling the door closed behind him. As the door shuts with a quiet click, Solas turns to look at the qunari taking up almost half of his backseat.
As the car slowly accelerates from the alley, Rook turns from the window back to Solas.
“I wasn’t joking. It was kind of a curveball, needing to pack up and leave. Well, I guess without the packing up part. They know where I live, and I already got stabbed once.”
“How come? From what little I’d heard of you, you seemed pretty close with the Inquisition.” At Rook’s bark of laughter, Solas raises an eyebrow.
“If you’d consider ‘ran jobs for her because Varric asked’ as ‘close’, then sure. I guess she decided I knew too much because next thing I knew, I had a knife in my back. Figuratively, but also quite literally.”
Solas takes a moment to consider the statement, before carefully speaking.
“You claim to only be a hireling of theirs, yet you possess information about her… organization, that’s crucial enough that it would lead to its downfall?”
“Hmm. You don’t think I know her operations quite well, as one of the people running around doing her dirty work while she sits on her throne, barking orders?”
When Solas doesn’t reply, Rook continues with a more conspiratorial tone.
“Besides, I’ve heard certain things about how your group originally came to be. Not leaders and politicians, but the humble hardworking people of this city, fed up with the ones in charge not even bothering to pretend to care.”
They lapse into an almost comfortable silence after that, Felassan humming some song and Rook once again turned to look at the passing streetlights lighting up the chilly evening.
If Solas spends the rest of the ride memorizing his face, it's just in case he knows how to describe who to have hunted down later if this doesn't work out.
If Rook notices in the reflection, he doesn't mention it.
Felassan's eyes in the rearview mirror, however, take all of it in.