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Anger was always easy, the safe choice when the silence became too much. Because anything else, well that felt like hurt. And hurt meant he cared.
Fuck, Riley didn't want to care.
He held the broken piece of horn to his chest, no longer so mad that they were uneven now. No, now he was… confused? Unsure after Quin returned and told him of his meeting with Gladius.
Indecisive was something he wasn't used to being– to feeling. Something that didn't sit right in his chest as he gazed at Ashur's tired form. The black webs around the Shadow Dragon leader's eyes pulled at his very soul. He had already been discussing what would happen when the time came, when the call of the Blight was too much.
If… Riley chided himself. Because he sure as fuck wasn't going to let Ashur go quietly into the night, and neither was Tarquin if he had something to say about it.
Their leader stood with Neve, the only person who might be just as hurt as Riley was. He couldn't find the strength in him to be jealous about her and his former lover. Hell, he didn't even have anything official with Gladius before he was sent off with Varric. And yet, all those nights had definitely felt like something more than just casual friendship. A sentiment Neve had felt as well when she met the charismatic man they now called Rook.
She must have felt the Qunari's eyes on her, turning to him with a tired smile and a slight nod of her head that somehow kept her hat perfectly in place. A grin that he slowly returned, something like understanding passing in that sparse space between them before she excused herself from Ashur and came to sit at Riley's side.
“Copper for your thoughts,” she said as she leaned forward, not quite staring at him but not quite looking away either.
“Pretty sure they are similar to yours, Neve Gallus,” he replied in a quiet voice as he looked down at his broken piece of horn. “Little of this, little of that-”
“A whole lot of heartache?” She chuckled wryly despite her words. Maker, how those eyes saw entirely too much.
A heavy sigh escaped him as he felt her pain as palpable as his own. When Neve was close it was harder to ignore what hid under the surface, and yet it was easier to process with her at his side.
“Something like that,” he agreed as his arm subtly brushed hers, needing that connection right now. He craved that feeling that he wasn't alone, even though he hated her suffering with him.
“Always knew he was trouble,” she shrugged. And for a moment, Riley ached to reach out and hold her, to tell her it was alright. But Neve wasn't that sort of woman, and he wasn't that sort of man.
“Yeah, he is. And I always stuck by him through it. But now, I'm not so sure…”
His words hung between them, both lost in thought before she finally turned to him and patted his knee in a friendly gesture. A soft touch, a warm brush of her skin against his, as he felt that aching part of his chest flutter once, then twice, at her sympathetic smile.
“How about we try to find some of our own trouble to get into? Some Threads told me the Venatori have been harassing people down at the Swan.”
He peeked down at her through the lace of her hat, the fire in her eyes complemented by his own mismatched irises as he hummed with approval.
“I think I would like that very much, Neve Gallus.”
He wouldn't call it a date, but it was something. Two grieving hearts finding what comfort they could. And sometimes, that was all you could ask for under the desolation that was Dock Town.