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“Emmrich.” Thel looked at the older mage who he found in his cousin’s sitting room. “I had known you were here.”
The Nevarran mage was sitting by the fireplace with a cup of tea in his hand. “I was visiting one of my former students. One who I have not seen in a while.”
Thel paused, looking around in the room. Obviously he knew that Emmrich had once been one of the private tutors who tried – and had failed – to rain in Dorian’s rebelliousness, back when Dorian had been a youngster.
And yet, he was kinda surprised. He had seen Emmrich only once after the battle in Minrathous – and that had been more than five months ago. “Where’s Manfred?”
“Oh, he is doing marvelously. Myrna has been teaching him recently. He is becoming quite a skillful mage, and that even though he is still…” Emmrich stopped in the middle of the sentence. He seemed to consider the word – and Thel could kinda understand the issue. Manfred was a wisp inside a reanimated skeleton. Was “young” the right word to call him?
“It’s good to hear that he is well,” Thel said and smiled. “It is good to see you are well, too.” He went to the armchair opposite of the one Emmrich had been sitting in, and took a seat himself.
Admittedly, he was not used to talking with Emmrich without at least Manfred being there. Indeed, he kinda missed the enthusiastic skeleton. That guy was always good at cheering him up in his own creepy, skeletal way, that was.
“Yes, of course.” Emmrich leaned over, taking the fine tea pot and pouring some into a second cup. “I brought this for your cousin.” He handed Thel the second cup. “It is still quite fascinating to me that in the entire time I never would’ve guessed that you and he are…”
“We are only second cousins,” Thel said. “It is just… You know how it is. Family stuff.” He shrugged, but took the cup.
Dorian had told him to wait here, as he was still taking care of… something. Thel was not even sure what. Politics, likely. Maybe dealing with some letter, or some messenger, or maybe… Frankly, Thel did not actually want to think too much about it. Dorian was doing politics, and Thel was happy to not be involved.
He had just not expected to meet Emmrich today.
“It is quite strange to me to realize that during that entire time I never even asked you for your real name,” Emmrich said. “To think that you were that cousin I had heard about quite a bit before.”
“It did not really mean anything, right? I mean, Rook was everything I needed to be.”
“That is quite a positive way to look at it, yes,” Emmrich said, leaning back on the chair. “Young Master Pavus said it was Varric who had given you that name?”
“No, actually…” Thel sighed. “It was my nickname. Before, I mean. Because I was good at climbing, and good as a lookout.”
“But you are afraid of heights.”
“Funny how that works, isn’t it?” Thel gave a half-hearted smirk. He sipped of the tea. It was sweetened quite a bit. “And then Varric did his thing. Giving me nicknames. And when I complained, he said: ‘Fine, then you’re Rook. Like the chess piece, not like the bird. Because you’re a pighead who runs head first into trouble.’” He imitated Varric’s tone, even though the thought of Varric was still kind of painful.
“I never met Varric, as you know. But from all I have been told, that does sound a lot like him.” Emmrich shot Thel one of those soft smiles. “You miss him?”
Thel shrugged. He did not want to talk about it.
Back when it happened… Well, no, not when it happened. After all, Thel had spent a good four months in the false belief that Varric was still alive, given Solas had conjured him up in his mind. And it had felt so… real. But when the illusion finally shattered, and when Thel had somehow escaped that darn prison… So many things had been happening. They had to go and fight. They had to stop Elgar’nan. There had not been any real time to grief. Not really. And once the fight was over, there had been other things to do.
Emmrich had tried to talk to him. But then Emmrich had left. And Thel had been thankful for it.
“You never really buried him,” Emmrich said. “I told you this before, Rook, or… Theldoran. I told you before. If you want to, we could do a little ceremony. Something so that you could have…” There was another one of those paused, before Emmrich added: “Closure.”
“I’m fine, Emmrich.” Thel had focused his gaze on the cup in his hands. He swirled the tea around in it. Not because he thought it would improve it in any way, but because it gave his hands something to do. And because while he looked at the tea swirling, he did not have to look at Emmrich. “It has been almost half a year. It is fine.”
Emmrich did not speak for a few seconds. “If you ever change your opinion, just tell me. I can help you.”
Thel nodded.
The pause that followed was one of those uncomfortable pauses. The silence was awkward, and Thel really wished Dorian would just come in to allow him to switch the topic and, well, escape all of this. “Young Master Pavus also told me that you lost your parents,” Emmrich said. “He told me they died during Elgar’nan’s occupation of the city.”
“They did,” Thel said.
“How are you…”
“I had not really spoken to them in two years, Emmrich. So… frankly, it does not make much of a difference. Whether they are dead or just…” He knew that his voice was carrying maybe too much aggression, but then again he did not care.
“Young Master Pavus also said that you had a tense relationship with them.”
Now Thel did look up. “My mother tried to have me killed eight years ago. So yes, you could say our relationship was ‘tense’.”
“Oh my.” Emmrich took a deep breath. “Master Pavus did not… mention that.”
Thel refocused his gaze back on his cup. Because he really just could not stand the direction this conversation was going. He hated it when people told him what to feel and what not. When they told him to be more forgiving. Or to grieve. Or to…
It was all a waste. Grieving people was a waste. Even the good ones. Even the people like Varric. Because grief did not bring them back.
And folks like his parents? The world was better off without them in it. So who the fuck even cared?
“I assume it was about you not being born with a connection to the Fade?” Emmrich asked as the silence became unbearable. His voice was tinged with care. It was the voice of a nice old uncle, Thel assumed. Only that it still felt condescending.
“It was because a non-magic child is worthless in Tevinter. And I refused to get married. I refused to play the role of a good daughter or a good fucking wife or some shit like that,” Thel growled. “So I was a problem. My mother thought to solve that problem.”
Emmrich sighed at this. “I am sorry, Theldoran. I did not mean to offend you. It might be my own weakness speaking. You know I lost my parents young, and I missed them. I missed them bitterly.”
“I assume your parents were not as fucking useless as mine,” Thel muttered.
“I guess. Or maybe I was just to young to really quarrel with them. Who knows?” Emmrich poured himself another cup of tea. “It is quite sad to think that you…”
“You are talking to the wrong people, Emmrich. Dorian’s father was a fucking dickhead as well. You most’ve heard the story.”
“I did. But I also know that Young Master Pavus still did grieve his father. In his own way. There might have been quite a lot of desperate hurt. But there was love, too, no? Between him and his father. Which does make me wonder…”
“My mother never loved me, and I never loved her. So can we please just change the topic, Emmrich? I do not feel like talking them. I do not feel like thinking about them ever again for that matter.”
The necromancer looked at him, and there was something in his eyes. Pity.
Thel hated it. He hated it when people pitied him.
He could see the movement of Emmrich’s shoulders. A sigh that he did not allow to have any voice. But then he nodded. “Very well. I am sorry. I did not mean to upset you.”
“Let’s just talk about something else. Just… anything.” Thel leaned back on that armchair he had been sitting on now. He really wished Dorian was back. “How is… the necropolis doing? Any more hauntings?”
“Not for the moment,” Emmrich said. “It seems that since Hezenkoss has been dealt with the spirits are once more pacified.”
Thel nodded. Because in the end, he still also did not have a whole lot of opinions on spirits – other than Spite – either. But it was a more graceful topic than his useless parents at the very least. “Good,” he hence said and forced a smile. “I hope… It stays that way.”
“So do I,” Emmrich replied, shifting just a bit uncomfortably. “So do I.”
