Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Feel free to check out my Neve X Rook playlist on Spotify. It'll add to the angst, I promise. 

Neve’s elbows dug uncomfortably into the wood of her desk as her hands held the weight of her head. Her notes had turned to ineligible scribbles hours ago, but she needed the distraction – any distraction to stop her thinking about the events of the day.

She wasn’t sure how long she had been sitting at her desk running through her notes on Aelia. She hadn’t seen anyone apart from Bellara when she brought her a plate of food, but now the same plate sat cold and half-picked at an arm’s length away on the edge of her desk. Even when Bellara had checked in on her, it had been hours since her argument with Rook – if that’s what she could even call it. After all, what do you call a moment of weakness like that? Her resolve almost breaking. Her lips almost pressing against Rook’s. Her heart almost breaking as she sent Rook away, stating with almost an unwavering amount of certainty that they could never be anything more than colleagues.

Rook, earnest as she always had been, had accepted Neve at her word. Apologising profusely for making her uncomfortable, but with such a sad look in her eye. Neve had almost broken and run into her arms right there and then, but she couldn’t.

There could be nothing between them. 

There was nothing between them.

Neve had made sure of that.

It was safer this way, she was sure. Short-term pain for long-term security. The wisp that swooped between them and disturbed their almost-kiss had done her a favour. She hadn’t kissed Rook. She hadn’t given in to her fantasies, and now she could go back to burying her feelings and being in denial. She knew Rook would give her the space to. The Warden was too respectful to push Neve’s boundaries. As much as part of her hated that, she buried it enough to be grateful she wouldn’t have to confront her feelings again.

Neve let her head sink onto the desk, letting out a soft but frustrated groan as she gave up on getting anything else done. Her coffee pot was long since empty and any blink of her eyes were rendered useless from the amount her eyes were drooping. The Lighthouse was still – almost eerily so, and Neve wondered if she was up so late that even Lucanis had gone to sleep. With any luck, she wouldn’t have to wait long for sleep to take her, too.

Defeated, she pushed herself up from her armchair, scowling at her notes as if they had betrayed her and moved over to her makeshift bed, shedding her prosthetic, her shirt and her trousers and tucking herself under her blanket. Yet, as Neve’s head hit the pillow and her eyes drifted closed, flashes of the Warden’s face ran through her mind; flashes of ‘what ifs’ taking centre stage.

What if the Wisp hadn’t interrupted them? What if she had kissed Rook?

She had seen the look on Rook’s face right after Neve had called her Trouble, right before their eyes had flicked to awaiting lips and their faces had started to inch closer. Rook looked at Neve like she would destroy her – like as soon as their lips touched Rook would pull the air from Neve’s lungs and leave her breathless, hopeless to do anything but seek out the touch of her lips more just to feel alive, hopeless to want anything but the feeling of their skin pressed together.

And what if she had let herself? What would have happened next?

The kiss would have grown heated quickly. Neve had denied her feelings for so long, but no one could deny the tension between them had been so thick it could be cut with a knife – it had been that way for a while.

Sitting next to each other on the desk would have been too awkward of an angle for their necks. Rook’s hand would have found Neve’s cheek, holding her steady and keeping her in place while Rook pushed herself from the desk and slotted between her thighs, pushing Neve further onto the desk – Neve would have let her, knees spreading further apart the moment she realised Rook’s intention.

Neve’s hand would tangle in Rook’s chestnut hair, grabbing a fistful to bring Rook closer than she was already, her other hand would slide to Rook’s waist, wrapping around her back as far as she could to bring the Warden closer still. Their teeth would clash in the passion of the moment and Neve would slip her tongue gingerly against Rook’s.

Rook would gasp in surprise as Neve nipped her lip, brushing over it quickly with a swipe of her tongue to dull the sting.

It would be enough for Rook to break the contact of their lips, pulling away for long enough for Neve to get lost in eyes the colour of a storm over the Minrathous docks. Rook would see the want in her own eyes, wisp hunt forgotten entirely in favour of something much more exhilarating.

Rook would flash another almost cocky smirk as she closed the distance again, lips and teeth running across the tender skin of her neck this time. Shivers would erupt across Neve’s skin at the contact, spreading through her body like electricity and igniting a fire in the pit of her stomach. Neve would gasp, throwing her head back to give more access. Rook would respond by pushing Neve’s legs further apart, slotting one of her own thighs deliciously between Neve’s and leaning forward to push the Detective back onto her desk.

Rook would grow tender, then. She’d lean back, biting her lip and with softness in her eyes to check that Neve was okay with what they were doing – ensuring Neve was on the same page before progressing any further. Neve would chuckle and her fondness for Rook would blossom all the more. She’d respond by sitting back up, holding Rook’s chin between her thumb and her forefinger in one hand and tucking a strand of hair behind her pointed ear with the other. Neve’s eyes would roam Rook’s face, committing her vallaslin and scars to memory and tracking her freckles as though they were stars in a constellation in the few precious seconds before she’d lean in to press their lips back together. Slower, this time. Calculated. Neve would want this to last. She’d want to enjoy every second of Rook’s hands on her body. But first, she’d want her hands on Rook’s.

Neve would let her hands roam painfully slowly from their place on Rook’s face, down her neck, across her shoulders, one brushing across her side while the other followed the curve of her collar, brushing fingers over the bare skin displayed by her half-buttoned shirt and the tattoo etched across her chest. She’d push the buttons through the leather of Rook’s shirt with an almost practised ease, untucking it from Rook’s leather trousers with her other hand and purposefully scraping her nails across the taught muscle of her stomach just to hear Rook’s breath catch. She’d push the shirt over Rook’s shoulders, enjoying the curves and dips of the Ranger’s shoulders, lost in how Rook could use the same arms to quickly and brutally kill a horde of Darkspawn in the morning and fuck her tenderly in the evening.

She’d trace the lines of Rook’s Grey Warden tattoo with the tips of her fingers, before following the action with her lips, then her tongue, following the path her hands had travelled down to move back up and kiss the Warden under her ear.

She’d guide calloused fingers to the buttons on her hips and laugh warmly as Rook struggled to get the metal through the loop. Her laugh would turn to a moan when Rook slipped her hand inside, tentative fingers stroking across sensitive flesh before being buried in her. Rook would echo her moan as she felt how wet Neve was – how much Neve wanted her.

Neve felt the delicious pressure of being filled by two fingers, hips rolling as they pushed deeper and causing a broken moan to escape from her parted lips.

Rook’s lips would find her breasts as she pushed her back over her desk.

Neve’s hand found its way to the spot, palming over herself in the ways she imagined Rook would. Her thumb brushed across her hardened nipple, causing another gasp to rip from her throat and her fingers to move faster inside her.

Rook would move faster too, removing herself from Neve’s breast and keeping desire-darkened eyes focused on Neve’s as she kissed down her body painfully slowly, before reaching the apex of her thighs.

Neve’s hand followed the trail Rook pathed out in her mind, her nails gently dragging across the skin as she reached lower. Her teeth clenched on her lip as her fingers brushed over her clit, moving in steady circles over the bundle of nerves in time with the pumps of her fingers.

Rook would moan against her. The sound of her name coming out muffled between Neve’s thighs.

“Rook.” Neve gasped into the emptiness of her room, quiet from teeth still biting down on her lip, but loud enough to cause a rustle of wisps in the rafters. She was so close… so, so close. She just needed Rook to -

“Neve? Are you awake?”

“Venhedis. Bellara?” Neve called out, eyes opening in a flash as she remembered where she was – in her room, very much alone. A pebble of guilt weighed in her stomach as she realised what she had just been doing.

Bellara didn’t bother to knock before entering, knowing Neve was awake seemed as though it were permission enough.

“Morning! I heard you yawning, so I figured you’d be up.” She called in her usually chirpy tone. Neve scrambled to remove her fingers from herself, grateful for the blanket that still covered her.

“Morning, Bel.” Neve sighed, half-annoyed for the disturbance and half-relieved for the interruption from her thoughts, and a little embarrassed that Bellara heard her ‘yawn’.

“Breakfast is ready, everyone’s in there grabbing a bite. Well, not everyone. Davrin and Rook went to the Hossberg Wetlands last night and haven’t returned yet. Anyway, I thought I’d come wake you to make sure you ate something today. I noticed you didn’t eat too much yesterday.”

“Davrin and Rook aren’t back?” She questioned as she sat up, picking up on the information a little later than she would have liked. It would explain why she hadn’t heard Assan in the night, but it wasn’t normal for Rook to leave without letting her know where she was going. She supposed Rook had good reason, but the fact they had been in the Wetlands all night planted a seed of worry, nonetheless.

“Nope. Something about missing Wardens. I’m sure they’re fine. Doubt Rook will be enjoying Warden rations again, though.”

“Missing Wardens…” Neve mused to herself, trying not to feel hurt that Rook didn’t ask her to come on a mission that sounded like one of her cases. Bellara appeared to pause, taking in Neve’s reaction.

“Are you and Rook okay, Neve? She seemed kind of upset after she left your room yesterday and she left with Davrin pretty quickly. She tried to hide it, but we both know Rook’s as good at hiding her emotions as she is at swimming.”

Neve would have laughed if they were talking about anything else. How Rook could have lasted ten years as a Grey Warden without learning to swim was a mystery even to her… but knowing Rook had been upset after their talk stung more than she would have thought.

“We’re fine, Bel.” She lied, determined to talk no further on the matter.

“Are you sure, because you don’t seem-“

“Bel.” Neve tried not to snap, but her voice was harsher than she would have liked. Still, Bellara took the hint.

“Okay… You should still eat, though.”

“Wasn’t it Rook’s turn to make breakfast today? Who cooked instead?”

“Lucanis made omelettes. I got him to make a cheese one for you.” Bellara smiled, all but singing the last few words as she tempted her friend with food.

“You’re the best.”

“I know.”

Neve’s back ached.

She had traded in her desk for the sofa and coffee table of the library yesterday.

Rook and Davrin had been gone for three days, but she just needed a change of scenery, she told herself. Moving to the library had nothing to do with being right next to the Eluvian room.

It had been comfortable at first, but the change of scenery meant more interruptions and leaning over the table for so long had grown uncomfortable. Still, she told herself, anything was better than sharing a room with wisps.

“Neve! How’s it going? Any new leads on Aelia yet?”

Venhedis, she was never going to get any work done.

“Harding! Nope. Still nothing.” She sighed, giving up and snapping her notebook shut.

“That’s too bad. We’ve all noticed how hard you’ve been working. Lucanis sent me over with coffee.” Harding smiled warmly as she passed the handle side of a dark purple mug into Neve’s awaiting hands.

“You’re a lifesaver.” Neve hummed in satisfaction as she let the smell of the liquid flow into her lungs. Maybe a decent coffee would help her focus.

“I noticed you were here all night, so I figured you’d need it.” Harding smiled sadly, leaning against the edge of the sofa to sip on her own drink. Hot chocolate, Neve guessed – the smell that wafter over proved her theory correct. “Any reason why you moved from your office?”

“Just needed a change of scenery. That’s all. Wisps get on your nerves after they move your notes that many times.”

“Ah right. It’s just I thought because Rook and Davrin have been gone for a few days… I know you get worried about the team when you don’t get updates.”

Venhedis, was she that predictable?

“I won’t lie and say I haven’t been curious.” Neve admitted – a half-truth, but one Harding wouldn’t push her on.

“Right…” Harding started, a sad smile turning into a knowing smirk.

Maybe she would push her.

“Well, you don’t have to worry anymore. I got a missive from Davrin yesterday saying they’re coming back today. I thought it’d be useful for you to know… in case you didn’t want to be disturbed when they came back. You know how loud Assan can be after a mission.”

Great. Neve thought. Bellara knew, now Harding knew. Who else knew about her and Rook? Not like there was a ‘her and Rook’.

She had made sure of that.

“Look, Harding.” She started, deciding facing the issue head-on was better than dancing around it. “I know everyone thinks Rook and I have a thing going on, but we don’t. We’re just friends.”

“Oh, okay Neve.” Harding’s smirk remained affixed to her face. “Well, you don’t need to worry about your friend’s safety. They’ll be back soon.”

Neve rolled her eyes as she stood, grabbing her notes and her coffee.

“Thanks, Harding. You’re right, I’d better avoid Assan if I want to get any work done.”

“No problem, Neve.”

Neve’s wrist ached from the length of time she had spent tapping her pen against the desk. She’d got no work done since she had moved – too focused on listening out for the telltale squawk of the Griffon.

She almost thought she was imagining it when she finally heard it.

Davrin’s laugh followed, exhaustion making it deeper and more raspy than normal.

She should check in on him before he settled back in – check if he needed anything to save him the journey. Of course, if she checked in on Davrin, she’d have to do the same for Rook, too.

Her mind was made for her when the tell-tale sound of metal and leather ascended the stairs towards her door, followed by the pitter-patter of scratching claws against ancient stone.

“Door’s open!” Neve called out, not bothering to wait for Davrin’s knock. She chuckled to herself at Davrin’s firm voice telling Assan to wait before he gently pushed the door open. Still, Assan was the first to enter – too excited to see his favourite human.

“Assan! Not with your dirty paws!” Davrin sighed. Although his face portrayed a look of defeat, it betrayed a relief to be back in a place where Assan’s dirty paws were his biggest worry. What had he seen these last few days? “Sorry, Neve.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Neve’s voice filled with warmth and amusement as she scratched under Assan’s chin. “How was your trip?”

“Good. That’s why I’m here actually. We tracked the missing Wardens, but we found a cabin a few miles away from the village. The owner… didn’t make it, but it seems like they might have had family in Minrathous. Thought you could take a look?”

“Sure, I can.” Neve started, feeling like there was more to Davrin being the one to ask her to come. “Isn’t Rook usually the one who assigns tasks, though?”

“Rook is… otherwise engaged.” Davrin intended to let nothing on, but something in his tone caused her to worry.

“Oh? Care to elaborate?” She pushed.

“She’s fine.” He smirked, holding his hands up in preparation to break some sort of news. “She got nicked by a Darkspawn Javelin.”

“When you say nicked…” Neve pushed again, determined to get the full picture and itching to rush over if Rook needed her help. She did have healing magic, after all.

“It got her thigh, but it’s a clean wound. She struggled to walk back so Warden Greta came back with us to help patch her up before we head back out in the morning.”

Neve felt her heart sink for a moment before steeling herself. She knew of Warden Greta. They had met briefly when Rook had taken Neve to Lavendel. Greta was quick to remind Rook they took the joining together, calling her by her real name that Neve had only learned of a few days prior. Despite it being close to a decade since Rook had joined the Wardens, an unmistakable look of recognition washed over Rook’s face – just for a split second, but long enough for Neve to notice. She had asked Rook about Greta later that day, feigning interest in their connection for the purposes of building relationships with more of the order. Her suspicions were confirmed quickly when Rook admitted they had gotten together in the months after their joining, before being separated by different missions. They hadn’t seen each other since.

Rook hadn’t seemed bothered by Greta at the time – too distracted with her flirtations with Neve to bother entertaining anything more from Greta. Greta, though, held a look of fondness in her eye when she looked at Rook – a look someone would only give if they still held a certain fondness for an old lover.  

Now that Neve had removed herself from the picture, she wondered if Rook’s mind would open to exploring things with the woman who looked at her with such affection.

Not that that bothered her, of course. Rook was free to do as she wished.

“You said we’re heading out in the morning?” Neve asked, pushing through her discomfort. After all, she had told Rook they were nothing more than friends – she should be happy for her if she found someone to make her happy.

“First thing. Prepare to be gone for a few days. We’ve got a lead on the Gloom Howler, too. Think she might be in a place called ‘The Cauldron’. Hope you’re up for a fight.”

“Always am.” Neve flashed Davrin her signature half-smile, but he noticed when it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“Oh, and Neve?” He called out before turning to leave. Neve dropped her smile, catching his eyes with her own. “For the record, it’s okay to be scared, but Rook isn’t going anywhere. She can hold her own.”

“She told you?” Neve asked, suddenly growing tense.

“She’s like a sister to me.” Davrin admitted, offering a comforting smile but not waiting for Neve’s response before calling Assan back to his side and taking his leave.

Chapter Text

More times than not, Neve would take dinner in her study, picking at it while she pored over her notes in the hope of finding that precious break in whatever case she was working on. This case – Aelia’s case – was arguably more important than any other she’d had in years and still, she struggled to make any progress.

The dining hall was warmer than anywhere else in the Lighthouse, both in terms of temperature and its atmosphere. As heavy as she had felt the last few days, she couldn’t deny a weight was lifted from her shoulders by walking through the doors alone; all of the team was seated, drinking and waiting for Lucanis to serve a meal that smelled divine.

“Neve!” The Assassin called from the kitchen area as she took a seat at the table – her usual spot, next to Rook’s unusually empty seat. She tried not to dwell on the matter. “I’m glad you made it. I made something special for you today.” Lucanis said with a warm smile.

“Oh really?” The conversation around her dulled as Lucanis began to plate the food. “What’s so special about today?”

“Nothing in particular, but from what Davrin and Rook have told me, you’ll need a good meal before heading to the Wetlands.”

“You’ve spoken to Rook?” Neve was usually calculated in her choice of words, but the question left her mouth before she was able to think. It was only natural, she reasoned, to show concern for a friend after they were gone for three days and injured by Darkspawn.

“I did.” He nodded, “Only briefly while Greta was helping her to her room. Seems like she’s been through a rough few days.”

Neve’s eyes drifted over to Davrin across the table to gauge his reaction to Lucanis’ statement – nothing.

“Maybe I should take her some food once we’ve eaten.” She mused, unsure if she intended to say the words out loud, this time. Maybe it was the way Lucanis mentioned Greta had been there. She’d hate to disturb them, after all.

“That’s not a bad idea. I took her a snack, but I doubt she’s had a proper meal yet.” Lucanis turned as he spoke, carefully holding two large dishes in his hands. He drew the eyes of everyone in the room as he placed one dish in the centre of the table. “Here. Seafood pasta with a tomato sauce.” A pause as he placed the other dish beside the first “And”

“Khachapuri!” Neve gasped, understanding now why the food had smelled so good. “Lucanis, you shouldn’t have…”

“It was Rook’s idea.” He admitted, flashing her a knowing smile. “She found the pasta recipe in the library and thought it would pair well with bread and cheese.”

Of course, it was Rook’s idea.

“Well, thank you for making it.” Neve smiled graciously.

“You’re very welcome. Figured you’d need something hearty for the journey ahead. Please, enjoy.”

It didn’t take long for the food to all but disappear, with just enough of a portion left over for Rook left in the dishes. Neve began to slow as she finished off her meal, opting to take a break from the food remaining on her plate to grab a portion for their leader.

Just as she finished, the door behind her creaked open. Neve’s heart skipped. Three days was the longest she had gone without seeing Rook since they had met, and she wasn’t entirely sure how they’d be after their ‘argument’.

“Hi everyone!” A voice, familiar but definitely not Rook’s, called out. “Is this where the food is?”

“It is, indeed.” Lucanis confirmed. “After something for Rook?”

“For both of us, if you have enough to spare. Are these two plates for us?” The woman’s voice drew closer to Neve, clearly referencing the Mage’s unfinished plate and the portion she was serving for Rook.

“They might be.” Neve’s voice was a little sharper than she intended. She chastised herself upon hearing her tone – if Greta was looking after Rook, of course she needed to eat, too.

“Maker, you’re a lifesaver. We were getting so hungry.”

Before Greta could fully reach the table, Neve made sure to even out the amount of food on each plate, adding a little extra to what had been her own. This would be Rook’s now. She turned to face Greta just as she reached the table.

“We’ve met before?” Greta said with a sweet smile, “Neve, right?”

“That’s right.” Neve kept her voice steady as she appraised the woman – shorter than she remembered. Shorter than Rook, too. Pretty enough, but Neve wouldn’t have her pinned as Rook’s type.

Not that it was any of her business.

“That plate’s yours, if you’re eating here.” Neve eyed the fresh plate, picking up the plate that had been hers and making a move for the door.

“Oh, actually I was going to eat with Rook!” Greta called after her, picking up both the plate and her pace to catch up with Neve. “I can take both plates. I wouldn’t want to bother you.”

“It’s no bother.” Neve flashed the woman a tight smile, leaving no room for questions. “Besides, she and I should run over the plan for this case she wants my opinion on.”

“Oh. Okay, then.” Greta’s voice dropped a tone, and Neve tried not to be delighted that she sounded disappointed to not be alone with Rook. The two walked side-by-side in silence until Greta spoke up again.

“Kyra… Rook… She talks about you a lot.” Greta’s voice seemed smaller, as though she was testing the waters with a question veiled as a statement. She watched Neve intently, waiting for a reaction. Neve smiled, seeing right through her attempt at conversation. It seemed odd to her, she thought – Greta didn’t seem like Rook’s type. Rook was brave, bold, passionate and more than willing to wear her heart on her sleeve, and Neve knew she appreciated the same qualities in women. Greta had proven herself to be brave – you don’t become a Warden without having such a quality, but as she walked timidly alongside Neve she almost appeared meek.

“All good things, I hope.” Neve kept her voice balanced, giving nothing away to play the Warden at her own game.

“Oh, of course. Kyra rarely says a bad word about anyone.” The way Greta used Rook’s real name left a bad taste in Neve’s mouth. It hadn’t taken long for the mage to learn of Rook’s past after they had met – of how badly she had been treated by the family that adopted her and had given her the name she carried – Kyra Thorne. It hadn’t taken more than five minutes to learn that Rook wasn’t fond of her name. After leaving her family to join the Wardens, it was the only remaining connection she had to her family – then Varric came along, provided the closest thing to an actual father figure she’d ever had and gave her a name to match – Rook. She hadn’t gone by Kyra for a day since. And now with Varric gone, it was her only remaining connection she had to him.

“Then why mention it?” Neve asked, knowing the answer, but wishing for Greta to say it out loud. She felt threatened by Neve.

“I…” Greta sighed as she stopped, struggling to find the words. Neve couldn’t help but take pity on the woman.

“Look.” Neve stopped beside her, softening her voice and offering the smallest of smiles. She chastised herself for teasing the woman. She couldn’t give Rook happiness, but maybe Greta could. Who was she to stand in their way? “You’ve got nothing to worry about with me. Maybe there was something between Rook and me, but there’s not anymore. And there won’t be. We’re just friends.” Her stomach churned as she said the words and she hated herself for it. She hated it more when Greta looked up at her with grateful eyes.

“Oh… Really?” Greta smiled brightly, her shoulders rising as though a weight had been lifted. Neve tried to ignore the feeling of her shoulders sinking under the same weight. “I… thank you.”

“Just… take care of her, okay? Rook is special to a lot of people.” The words ‘Rook is special to me’ would remain unsaid.

“She is special…” Greta confirmed with a wistful smile. “There was this cliff not too far away from Weisshaupt that I used to love going to after I first joined. Seeing the views of the mountains, so peaceful and still after such a chaotic few months helped me through what felt like the darkest time in my life. To get there, you had to go through this cave system. It was usually safe, being so close to a fortress full of Grey Wardens, but one day a bunch of demons appeared out of nowhere. The First Warden forbade anyone from clearing them out – we had other priorities and the demons weren’t close enough to Weisshaupt to cause a threat… but Kyra snuck out in the night to clear them out anyway – just so I could watch time pass in my favourite spot.”

And Rook, a Grey Warden oathbound to stop the Blight, prioritised saving Minrathous from a Venatori coup over preventing Treviso from being Blighted - because making sure Neve was safe and her city wasn’t handed over to cultists was more important than her oath. But it wasn’t a competition, and Neve kept her thoughts to herself.

“How like Rook to disobey orders for the greater good.” Neve smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. How like Rook to act the hero for the woman she’s fond of.

Neve didn’t expect her heart to pound as hard as it did when she reached the threshold of Rook’s room. Something about not seeing her in three days – something about not seeing her since their almost-kiss – something about not seeing her since Rook left her room trying not to look like a kicked puppy after Neve told her they could be nothing more than what they already were. She almost felt as though she should give Rook more space, but the way Rook had immediately flung herself into danger for three days without even sending word of where she was going made Neve want to see Rook squirm a little.

Sure, she had told other people where she was going – Davrin had sent word to Harding about when they’d be back, but Neve had hoped to hear it from Rook herself.

Rook didn’t stir as Neve entered the room behind Greta.

“Wake up sleepyhead.” The other Warden cooed as she moved around Rook’s makeshift bed. Neve followed, feeling her chest squeeze at how peaceful Rook looked. She lay on her side with her chestnut hair splayed across a pillow at one end, and a blanket draped loosely over her body and tucked under her chin. One leg folded up close to her chest and the other, which Neve assumed to be the injured one, was lifted onto the arm of the chaise. The cool light from the aquarium bounced off her sharp jaw and the jagged lines of scars earned from the claws of Darkspawn beside her eye. It caressed the softness of her cheeks and the slight furrow of her brow in a way that made Neve jealous of the light. She was beautiful.

Greta was lucky.

“Actually, Greta would you mind if I spoke to Rook alone? There are some things I need to talk to her about.”

There weren’t really. Greta was a lovely person, but Neve had had enough of her for one day.

“Oh… sure. I’ll head back to the dining hall with the others.”

“Thanks, Greta.” Neve said quietly, catching the eye of the Warden as she closed the door behind her, Rook’s original plate of food still balanced on her hand.

Neve seated herself on the stool placed beside Rook’s bedside – a new addition to the room since she was last here. Neve tried not to remember the times they had sat beside each other on the chaise longue chatting, laughing, Rook reading while Neve ran through her notes. The times Rook had fallen asleep on her shoulder, so tired from being kept awake at night with nightmares caused by the taint in her blood; how that meant that Rook felt safe with her – how Neve quietened the dreams that usually kept the Warden tossing through the night.

She tried not to wonder if Rook’s current sleep had been helped by Greta’s presence.

“Rook.” She spoke softly, but loud enough to wake the woman. The urge to brush a strand of hair that had fallen into her face was almost too much to bear. “Wake up. Your food will go cold.”

“Food?” Rook’s voice rasped from leftover sleep as she stirred, but kept her eyes closed.

“Mhm. Your idea, according to Lucanis.”

Rook smirked in response, keeping her eyes closed. “Did you like it?”

“I did.” Neve smiled, letting it grow wider when Rook finally opened her eyes.

“Good.” The warden pushed herself into a seated position but hissed in pain as she moved her elevated leg. Her face was clammy and pale. Neve hadn’t seen her look this unwell since she was knocked out after Solas’ ritual.

“How are you feeling?” Neve asked, trying not to let worry, or frustration, fill her voice.

“Better after a nap.” As if sensing Neve’s earlier thoughts, Rook continued, “Greta gave me a sleep potion. Knocks you out cold and helps speed up the healing, but it still hurts like a bitch.”

It wasn’t a competition, but somehow Neve felt like she had just won something.

“What happened?”

“Darkspawn javelin. Good thing I was dodging at the time, or it would have got me in the gut.” Rook winced as she scooted further along the chaise, leaving enough room for Neve to sit where her legs had just been propped up. Her eyes watered as she crossed her legs, a blanket still covered her lap, but Neve could only imagine how much she was straining her injured flesh.

“Did you kill it?” Neve smirked, moving to the offered space beside the Warden and passing her the plate. Rook smiled as she took it, mouthing a silent ‘thank you’.

“They might throw a mean pointy stick, but that’s all they’re good for. It’s definitely dead now.”

“But did you kill it?” Neve pushed, stifling a laugh at Rook’s avoidance of the question.

“I… fell over. It got me in the leg, Neve.” Rook chuckled, taking a fork full of pasta into her mouth.

“You’re telling me ‘Rook Thorne’ the mighty Grey Warden and Leader of the Veilguard fell over in battle?” Neve could stifle her laughter no longer. Waves of amusement racked through her body. She wasn’t sure whether she actually found the thought of Rook falling over in battle funny, or whether it was just the way Rook delivered the news.

“Hey, now. Don’t say it too loud. I’ve got a fearsome reputation to maintain.”

“Oh, it’s fearsome, is it? I’m sure a lot of people would call you a nuisance.” Neve paused briefly, mulling over her next words. “I definitely would.”

Rook paused the motion of her arm as she moved another bite of food towards her mouth, letting her eyes drift away to the aquarium as she gently put her fork back down.

“I’m sorry I left so suddenly.” She sighed, all of the humour that had filled her voice seconds ago having melted away. Neve almost wished she could take back her words. “Especially after our last conversation. You didn’t deserve that. I’m sorry if I worried you.”

“You did worry me.” Neve placed a comforting hand on Rook’s arm in an attempt to convince her she wasn’t annoyed. “Especially after our last conversation… I know what we talked about upset you, Rook, and I’m sorry I hurt you. But just because we can’t be anything more, doesn’t mean I don’t care about you. I don’t want to see you get hurt.” Neve sighed again in an attempt to regulate herself, feeling her emotions at the thought of losing Rook getting away from her. “Please just take me with you next time, or if not me then Harding or Bellara. Davrin’s a capable warrior, but you didn’t take a healer with you… if something had happened…”

“I’m sorry, Neve.” Rook chewed on her lip, still refusing to meet Neve’s gaze. Neve was thankful for the lack of eye contact at that moment, worried that looking into pools of stormy blue might make her forget everything that held her back.

It would only put them both in danger.

“Can I see it?” Neve bumped their shoulders together to lighten the mood and change to a safer subject. She picked up the fork with Rook’s forgotten bite of pasta, popping it into her own mouth. It was enough to draw Rook’s eyes back to her initially in mock offence from Neve eating her food, but it quickly melted away as Neve’s lips closed around the mouthful, her tongue darting out to catch a drop of sauce that had caught on her lip. Rook gulped, forgetting Neve’s question entirely. “Your leg?” She prompted.

“Oh, sure. It’s on my inner thigh, though.” Rook warned, as though Neve would care about where her injury was. An injury was an injury, after all. Rook took the fork back from Neve, grabbing another bite of food before Neve removed the plate from her lap.

Rook lifted the blanket from across her legs, shuffling further onto the chaise to keep her legs supported as she straightened them out.

Neve felt her breath catch as she turned back around. Rook, although wearing a sleep tunic on her torso, was only wearing small clothes on her lower half, leaving the entirety of her legs exposed. Very long, very toned legs. Neve had seen Rook’s Grey Warden tattoos before but hadn’t realised the design extended to her thighs. She’d seen Rook’s scars before, but hadn’t realised so many marred the smooth skin beneath her leather-clad legs. Neve’s eyes were transfixed as the muscle in Rook’s thigh flexed and relaxed while she moved into a comfortable position – suddenly grateful the blue hue of the room made it hard to see the flush of her cheeks.

It didn’t take long for Neve to notice the injury that had been the cause for Rook’s current recovery. A thick, angry gauge in the otherwise perfect flesh of Rook’s right thigh… about three inches below the parting of her legs.

Venhedis.

“It’s been cauterised?” Neve asked, kneeling down and ignoring the heat that rose in her stomach.

“In the field. It was bleeding too much to bandage.” Rook confirmed, seemingly oblivious to her effect on Neve.

“Well, at least that will stave off infection, but it’s a deep burn. Still a long way to go before it heals.” Neve’s fingers brushed across the skin beside the wound, drawing a pained gasp from the Warden. “Did it hurt?”

“The cauterising?”

Neve nodded.

“More than the wound itself. I had to bite down on my trousers while Greta held the knife to my skin to stop me from screaming. If I made too much noise we would have drawn more Darkspawn.”

Neve bit down on the inside of her cheek, feeling guilt rack through her body. Perhaps if she hadn’t hurt Rook, she would have been beside her when this happened. She could have used a healing spell to slow the bleeding and save her the pain, or at the very least, she could have held Rook’s hand while the metal burned her skin.

“Hey.” Rook cooed, drawing Neve’s attention back to stormy blue eyes. “It’s no worse than anything I’ve been through before. If you were there it could have been you taking the hit. You’d have been blighted. The Blight’s already in my blood, it won’t affect me more than it already has.”

Neve steadied her breathing. Clearly, she wasn’t doing a very good job of steeling her emotions or hiding her thoughts – or maybe Rook could just read her that well.

Neve placed her palm gently over the wounded flesh, ignoring the warmth that radiated from the Warden, and let green healing magic melt into Rook’s skin. It was close to useless – the wound having already been closed, but if it even had the chance of taking the edge off, she’d take it.

“Are you sure you’ll be okay for tomorrow? It’s a bad wound.” Neve’s voice was close to a whisper. Her hand didn’t move away from Rook’s leg.

“I’ll be alright. It’ll be wrapped so it won’t rub or stretch. Saying that, stretching would probably do it some good.”

Neve really tried to not think about Rook stretching her thigh. She tried so hard no to think about all the ways in which Rook could stretch her thigh. She’d love to say her willpower won the day, but the growing heat between her own legs proved otherwise.

Would it be so bad to just give in? To let herself feel?

The hand not attached to Rook’s thigh remained steady on her own, balancing herself as she kneeled on the stone floor. The heat in pooling in Neve’s stomach clouded her brain, removing all rational thought, and her free hand steadily began to rise up her thigh – achingly close.

Rook, mercifully, didn’t notice – too distracted by footsteps coming down the corridor which Neve hadn’t yet heard.

The knock didn’t surprise Rook, whose head was already tilted towards the door. Neve, though, almost jumped out of her skin.

“Rook? I brought you a coffee.” Greta’s voice called from the other side of the door.

Neve’s jaw tensed in half-annoyance, although the shock of the interruption pulled her back into her thoughts and she removed her hand from Rook’s thigh as though the wound was burning hot. A surprised gasp escaped her lips and she quickly moved to stand and put some distance between them. Neve hated how familiar it felt to walk away like this.

Rook flashed her an apologetic look, grabbing the blanket once more to pull across her lap.

Neve couldn’t bring herself to look back as she walked towards the door. She refused to acknowledge the pain that gripped her heart. Her will was hanging on by a thread.

“She’s all yours.” Neve smiled, wiping herself of all emotion as she opened the door to Greta.

The warden smiled warmly as she entered the room, eyes brightening as she noticed Rook awake and sitting up.

For the first time she considered if she was wrong – maybe Greta wasn’t threatened by her. Maybe Neve was threatened by Greta.

Chapter Text

Neve hated herself.

She hated herself as she walked back to her room with her lip clamped between her teeth, trying to think of anything but Rook.

She hated herself as she closed the door to her room, hand lingering on the metal as she let out a shaky breath she hadn’t realised she’d been holding in, fighting with herself not to open it and storm back to Rook’s room.

She hated herself as she readied herself for bed, pushing her clothes off her body and imagining Rook’s hands in place of her own.

She hated herself as she lay in bed, giving in to her urges and letting her hand slip between her legs to find herself soaked.

She hated herself as she rode the same fingers that had glossed over Rook’s wound just minutes before.

She hated herself more for the way she felt as she came around her own fingers with Rook’s name on her lips.

But she hated herself the most when she curled up in bed with a pillow between her arms, only falling asleep when she imagined it was Rook.  

Neve awoke the next morning to the pillow still clutched between her arms and Assan’s loud scratching at her door pulling her from sinful dreams.

“Morning Neve!” Rook called from beneath the stairs in an otherwise empty dining hall. The Warden was already dressed in the crow leathers she had insisted on buying to wear in place of her Warden fatigues – almost certainly less comfortable, but ‘if I’m expected to save the world, I need to do it in style’, Rook had reasoned. Neve didn’t argue – why would she when the new clothes hugged Rook in all the right places and drew Neve’s eyes in with a low-cut neckline from buttons left undone? “Full Ferelden okay?”

“Full Ferelden?” Neve’s voice held a warmth that emanated from the smile on her face. She moved closer to the Warden, leaning against the wood of the stairs as she watched Rook at work in the kitchen.

“It’s better than it sounds.” Greta’s voice called from the corner behind her. Of course she was in here, how did Neve not notice her? Neve’s back stiffened as she turned her head to look at Greta.

“Morning Greta.” She tried to sound happy to see her, but the look of peace on Greta’s face rubbed her up the wrong way. She, like Rook, was dressed down – a contrast to the armour she had been clad in the previous night. She also looked well-rested. Where had she slept? Was that one of Rook’s tunics she was wearing? Was that all she was wearing?

“Morning Neve.” Great smiled back at her, sauntering over in a way intended to draw eyes to her swaying hips and bare legs. Rook didn’t notice, keeping her eyes on the pots and pans in front of her.

“It’s bacon, eggs, sausages, toast, mushrooms, tomatoey beans, fried potato. We’ve got a long day ahead of us, so I figured I’d make us all a hearty breakfast. Davrin’s already had his. Assan stole most of the sausages, though.”

Neve giggled at the image, moving to take a seat at the table and accepting graciously when Greta offered a cup of coffee. She was sweet.

“You’re looking better today.” She commented, letting her body relax with the first sip of her coffee. “How’s your leg?”

“It’s surprising what a healing spell can do that a potion can’t.” Rook flashed her a grateful smile before grabbing a set of tongs to scoop the bacon from a frying pan to a plate. “Eggs scrambled or fried?”

The question was intended for both Neve and Greta, but the way Rook’s eyes met hers made her forget about the other Warden’s presence.

She could get used to seeing Rook make breakfast in the morning.

“Fried.” Neve responded, holding Rook’s gaze with a satisfied smile.

“Runny yolk?”

“You know me so well.” Neve’s smile grew as Rook reflected the expression, before turning around to crack an egg one-handed into the now-empty pan.

“How about you, Greta?” Rook extended the question. Neve felt satisfaction spread across her chest – Rook knew how Neve liked her eggs, but didn’t know how Greta liked hers.

“Oh… fried too, please. Runny.”

Rook didn’t turn to catch her eye as she cracked another egg into the pan.

“Have you been to the Wetlands much, Neve? Or was it just that one time with Kyra?” Greta asked, breaking the harmony of a quiet room and the sizzling of eggs.

Neve took a sip of coffee while she mulled over her answer – better than hers, but nowhere near Lucanis’.

“Rook and I have gone there a lot. I was able to help the Shadow Dragons with the ballista that took down the Blighted Dragons. Can’t say it’s my favourite place, though.”

“I don’t think it’s anyone’s favourite place.” Greta’s laugh was solemn. “I didn’t realise you were there for the Blighted Dragons.”

Neve flashed a knowing smirk, remembering vividly seeing Greta before the battle – her eyes very much focused on Rook. No wonder she didn’t remember.

“Didn’t I tell you about that?” Rook called from under the stairs – removing the eggs from the pans and plating them carefully to avoid the yolks splitting. “Neve’s the reason we’re all alive today.”

“What do you mean? I thought you scared Elgar’nan off?” Greta asked, jaw tense and brow furrowed.

“Elgar’nan was powerful enough to blast everyone and everything in a 100-metre radius back. Neve threw up a barrier just in time to stop us from going flying. It gave me time enough to break the spell’s hold. That’s when he got scared.”

“Then I suppose we all have you to thank for our lives, Neve.”

“We’re not out of the woods yet.” Neve cut the conversation, smiling at Rook as she placed a plate in front of her.

“Kyra, did you ever tell Neve about how you got the claw scar next to your eye?”

Confusion flashed across Rook’s face at the question. She took a sip of tea before responding. “I’ve told her it was from the first time I fought Darkspawn. Why?”

“Do you remember it was the first time we fought together?” Greta pushed some food around her plate, keeping hooded eyes focused on Rook. Neve couldn’t help but feel intrigued at where this was going, but it was clear that Rook wasn’t catching on.

“Was it?”

“Mhm. Do you remember I killed the Darkspawn that gave you that scar?” Greta pushed.

“Oh, oh yeah. You did.” Rook smiled, but still seemed confused at where the conversation was headed.

“Do you remember how you thanked me for killing the Darkspawn after?”

Rook froze in place.

There it is.

“Did you know that Kyra gets really heated after a battle, Neve?” Greta smirked, surprising Neve with her forwardness after their previous interactions. What was her angle? Trying to test the waters to see if anything more had gone on between them? To find out if they had slept together? To rub in the fact that Rook had slept with Greta?

“I can’t say I do.” Neve smirked back. If Greta was trying to push her buttons, Neve wouldn’t give her a crumb of satisfaction. Although, Rook’s attraction to the Warden made more sense now Greta had shown to have a fiery side.

“Maybe we’ll get into some more fights in the Wetlands, Kyra? It could be just like old times.”

Rook remained frozen in place – a faint blush washing over her cheeks. Neve wasn’t sure whether it was from embarrassment or temptation.

“I think you broke her.” Neve laughed, finding genuine amusement in Rook’s reaction.

“Wouldn’t be the first time.” Greta smirked.

The Wetlands were cold, wet, muddy, covered in Blight and riddled with Darkspawn. Everything Neve hated. The only thing worse than being in the Wetlands was how quiet Rook and Davrin grew from seeing the Grey Wardens in such a state. Neve could only imagine what they felt each time they visited – every time they even thought of what had been their home. She counted herself lucky that she wasn’t in the same position, but guilt still racked her that while Rook had saved Minrathous, Neve couldn’t save Weisshaupt.

But then, no one could have saved Weisshaupt.

Suddenly the way Rook described Neve’s actions during the Blighted Dragon attack warmed her heart.

The way Rook spoke about her in general was nothing short of sweet.

But then, the same could be said about the way Rook spoke about anyone.

Greta included.

They barely hesitated before heading off on their mission – Rook briefly checking in with Antione and Evka, saying hi to Mila, and promptly heading off in the direction of the lost Warden’s Neve was to track back to Minrathous.

Davrin may have been the strongest of the lot, but Rook was by far the best scout. Her eye was sharper than the swords strapped to her hips and her reflexes were faster than Assan’s. The group trusted no one more than Rook to lead them through hostile places.

It just made it harder to watch Rook fall for Greta’s charms as the two walked ahead of Neve and Davrin. The way the other Warden practically clung to Rook’s arm twisted her stomach.

What if they got attacked? How would Rook reach her bow if Greta was holding her arm like that?

“You don’t like Greta.” Davrin spoke quietly but didn’t hide the amusement in his voice.

“What makes you say that?” Neve challenged, although she knew the reason why. The look in Davrin’s eye hinted that he had spotted her staring. Davrin chuckled warmly in response.

“Rook might not see through your act, Neve, but I do. Assan, especially.” He chuckled softly, and Neve started a battle with herself to keep her secrets locked away from everyone – including herself. Admitting anything was too dangerous.

“That bird can’t be trusted.” She muttered, earning another deep laugh.

A squawk of protest sounded from the Griffon as he flew above, swooping around to look Neve in the eye.

“There’ll be no more treats for you if you don’t hush.” Neve laughed back at him. Rook turned her head to flash her a smirk and Neve felt her breath catch in her throat.

“See what I mean?” Davrin chuckled, merciful with the volume of his voice so as to not draw the attention of the women ahead.

“Davrin.” Neve sighed, all humour melting from her face. “You can’t tell Rook. I…” She paused, words failing her. “Look, I can’t deny Rook and I have… chemistry. But, I’m too dangerous for her… Minrathous is too dangerous for her. If Aelia even catches a whiff of someone being important to me, she’ll do everything she can to hurt them just to get at me. Even if we bring Aelia down, there’ll be more like her… There always are. Rook will never be safe.”

“And you think being with a Grey Warden is safer?” Davrin pressed, flashing her a sympathetic look.

“I’d be safer in her world than she’d be in Minrathous.” Neve laughed solemnly.

“You sure about that?” It wasn’t a question, Neve noted.

“Why? What are you getting at?” She pushed.

“I wasn’t talking about Rook.” He raised his eyebrow at the pair in front of them, Greta still clinging to Rook’s arm and looking up at her like she could move the tides themselves.

“You mean Greta?”

Davrin hummed in confirmation. “Don’t get me wrong, I love Antoine and Evka, but relationships between Wardens never end well. She’s more in danger being with another Warden than she would be anywhere else in Thedas.”

“What makes you say that?” Neve asked with genuine confusion in her voice.

“Wardens sometimes leave the order when they find love. They can never escape the calling, and most will come back if there’s ever a Blight or large Darkspawn incursion, but they can lead fulfilling lives and have the skills to survive a long time. Wardens who end up with other Wardens never leave. They either die fighting Darkspawn together or one will get the calling before the other and they’ll both go to die in the Deep Roads. There’s no happy ending.”

“You’re saying Rook would be safer in a nest of vipers than she would in the Wardens?”

“You underestimate her. She grew up in the courts of nobles who hated her. Rook knows how to handle anything Minrathous can throw at her.”

“It’s not something I’d be comfortable putting to the test.” Neve sighed, resigned to her fate.

“Have you asked her that?” Davrin raised an eyebrow towards her, smirking in a way that suggested he thought he had her beat. Neve’s feet slowed to a halt, eyes landing wistfully on Rook and Greta and they continued walking onwards.

“She seems happy enough.” Neve was surprised by how small her voice sounded. For the rest of the day, Davrin’s words would echo in her skull.

“If you say so.” He sighed, resigned.

“You two okay back there?” Rook called, only turning towards them slightly due to Greta’s hand on her arm.

“All good, Rook! Just keeping an eye on Assan!” Davrin called back, feeling guilty about the lie, but even worse when he noticed Assan was paying close attention to a hidden spot behind some ruins. “Oh shit.”

Before he could say anything, an ogre smashed through the ancient brick walls – its eyes fixed on Rook.

“Rook!” He screamed. But the ogre was too fast and Greta’s grip on Rook’s arm held for just long enough for Rook to lose any reaction time she might have had.

Neve was first to move, her heart kicking into gear as she saw Rook vulnerable. A shard of ice flew from her hand, hitting the ogre in its stomach and causing a scream to erupt from the horrific creature. Still, its movements didn’t cease and it swung its club towards Rook – weakened, but still with enough power to send the Ranger flying through the air and into the mud.

Neve and Davrin froze as Rook hit the ground – time itself seeming to slow as mud splashed into the air. This was supposed to be a simple job.

“Kyra? Kyra!” Greta shouted, managing to scurry out of the ogre’s path with just enough time to spare.

Rook didn’t respond.

Greta drew her sword and gripped her shield as the ogre turned towards her, drawn by her voice and the panic within it. Its skin bristled and bulged with the red and black hues of the blight and it bared its gnarled teeth, letting a scream rip through its throat and spattering the Warden with spit from its maw.

Davrin’s voice booming a command to Assan broke Neve from her stupor. She had to believe Rook would be okay for just long enough to take down the ogre.

Rook had to be okay.

The ogre charged forward towards Greta whose shield did nothing to dampen the blow as its shoulder clipped her chest and sent her sprawling onto the ground. The force winded her, leaving her prone for long enough for the ogre to raise its foot in preparation to stomp on her.

A blast of ice caught the creature off guard, freezing the ground beneath its foot and throwing it off balance. The creature’s raised foot smashed down into the ground to stop it from falling, missing Greta’s head by inches. The Warden took the opportunity to roll out from the creature’s reach, slashing its leg with her sword as she scrambled away.

Davrin was beside her in a flash, slotting their shields together as best they could to stop any projectiles the beast might throw at them and create a barrier between them and Neve, who was still throwing out shards of ice from behind them.

As it regained its balance, it turned to face the Wardens. A sickening, guttural scream tore from its throat as its red eyes beamed in their direction. Neve had never seen a darkspawn smile before, but this was the closest she had ever seen to it – its face twisted and evil as the corners of its mouth rose.

It had only been a matter of seconds since the ogre had ambushed them, but as Neve stared down the creature from behind the ‘safety’ of two Grey Wardens, it felt as though a lifetime had passed.

Finally, it moved, running full force at them once more – heading straight for Davrin and Greta. They would not be able to hold their ground against such a massive creature, but they tried. Their swords pierced its skin as it crashed into them, forcing it to halt its movements for a second but not before sending both wardens flying to miss Neve by a matter of inches.

Suddenly, Neve stood alone against a creature that could kill her in a single blow.

Before she could ready a bolt of ice in her hands the ogre stopped in its tracks, letting out a scream as its muscles contracted in on itself. A spray of purple sparks splashed from behind it as a bolt of lightning energy brought it to its knees. As it fell to the ground incapacitated, Rook’s muddied form stood strong behind it, already with another arrow nocked on her bow.

The ogre groaned as it fought against its convulsing muscles – nerves fried from the electricity still coursing through its system, but it gave Davrin and Greta just enough time to spring back to their feet. Davrin’s sword found its neck and dug deep into its flesh and the ogre’s groans grew weaker as its tainted blood soaked into the ground beneath it – its eyes dimming as it drew its last breath.

Before Neve could even register what had just happened, Greta twisted around to face Rook.

“Shit, Kyra. Are you okay?” the Warden asked breathlessly as she closed the distance between them.

Neve closed her mouth, not realising she had opened it in preparation to ask the same question, letting out a relieved sigh that earned her a curious side-eye from Davrin.

“I’m fine, Greta. Just a little muddy.” Rook chuckled, but Neve knew better than to believe her words. Instead, she trusted the sound of Rook’s voice – gravelly and of a slightly higher register than normal. She may not have been injured, but she hadn’t come away unscathed.

“Okay, are you okay to continue?” Greta asked, trying to wipe some of the mud from Rook’s face.

“Ye-“ Rook began to respond, but Neve wouldn’t let her.

“Actually.” She interrupted, “I’m getting quite tired, I could do with setting up camp.”

“Good idea, Neve.” Davrin chimed in, following her train of thought, “Besides we don’t have many hours of daylight left.”

A small, snowy valley overlooking a shallow lake provided the perfect place to set up camp for the night. A small cave, just wide enough for the four of them, provided the perfect place to sleep. The ground was blanketed with dead leaves, providing the slightest of barriers between their bed rolls and the frozen ground.

It wasn’t much, but it was safe, and the campfire near the cave mouth would provide enough heat for them not to freeze in the night.

As Davrin and Greta had gone to scout the area, Neve found herself alone beside the campfire, checking over her notes when the sound of logs being thrown into a pile caught her attention.

“Don’t even think about it.” She tried to sound stern, but the smirk on her face melted into her voice. Rook froze a few feet away from her, holding an axe above her head in preparation to chop a log into firewood. Her clothes and skin were still covered in mud, now dried, but Neve could still see pain etched into her features. “Davrin can handle that. You need to rest and get out of those muddy clothes.”

“I didn’t bring anything else with me.” Rook huffed, “And Davrin’s got enough to do, I can handle a bit of wood chopping.”

“Davrin didn’t get thrown about by an ogre today.” Neve’s voice might have sounded sharp, but the softness of her features betrayed a sense of worry for the Warden. “Have you checked your bandages since you got thrown into a puddle?”

Rook dropping the axe to the floor signalled she was ready to take Neve’s advice. “I was going to deal with it on a full stomach.”

“You’ll get an infection if you’re not careful, Rook. Your wound doesn’t care about you having the energy to rebandage yourself.” Neve closed her notebook and stood, approaching Rook with a warm smile. “I’ll help you. C’mon.” She signalled towards the lake, moving before Rook had a chance to argue – she tried, regardless.

“The lake? But Neve it’s freezing. I’m safer staying in muddy clothes.”

“And you forget I’m an ice mage.” Neve quipped back, a smirk evident in her voice. “Clean the fabric, freeze the water, chip it off and there you have it – dry, clean clothes.”

“There are easier ways to get me naked.” Rook chuckled from behind her and Neve couldn’t help but picture it. Suddenly she was glad the Warden couldn’t see her face, or she would have noticed the immediate blush that formed across her cheeks.

“Behave, Trouble.” Neve quipped back, remembering the reaction the nickname had elicited the first time she used it. “I doubt Greta would be too happy with you flirting with another woman.”

“Greta?” Rook responded, genuine confusion in her voice. “Why would Greta care about who I flirt with? We’re just friends.”

“Oh, come on, you don’t actually believe that, do you?” Neve could have laughed at Rook’s naivety, if it didn’t concern her a little. “She’s been all over you the last few days.”

“I… I hadn’t noticed.” Usually, Neve would push the matter – Greta had made it obvious to everyone that she was interested in Rook. But something in Rook’s tone gave Neve pause to figure out why it hadn’t been obvious to her.  

“Let’s get you clean, then.” Neve ordered as they reached the edge of the water, turning to face Rook and hoping that her blush had settled.

Rook gave only a small, shy smile in return, but didn’t argue. Her jaw tensed as she steeled herself against the cold and removed the muddied layers and Neve couldn’t help the way her eyes travelled across Rook’s body as goose bumps covered her flesh. Sure, she had seen Rook in her small clothes before, but usually it was just Rook working out with shorts and a breast band. This… this was different. Neve shouldn’t be staring, she was just there to help Rook get clean so her wound wouldn’t get infected, but the dried mud seemed to cling to the curves of her muscles in a way that made her mouth dry. For the first time, she got a look at Rook’s full Warden tattoo, travelling from her chest, down her arms and finally to her thighs. Her eyes roamed further across the marred and jagged skin of old and new scars, and she wished nothing more than to run her fingers across the flesh and learn the stories of each and every one.

Greta was a lucky woman.

“You sure you can get these dry enough?” Rook asked through chattering teeth. “I could do with not being cold for too long.”

“Leave it with me, Trouble.” Neve assured, snapping herself from her haze. She picked up the clothes that Rook had tossed onto the ground and signalled for her to wade into the waters. Once again, Rook didn’t argue, although a hiss escaped from her lips as she stepped into the water.

“I thought Wardens could deal with surviving in the wild?” Neve quipped from the bank of the lake.

“You’d think living in the Anderfells, we’d be used to it. Turns out the joining doesn’t help deal with the cold.” Rook laughed, but her voice didn’t hold the humour it normally would. Something was wrong – but what?

Neve turned away from where Rook bathed, figuring washing the clothes in her hands would be a safer activity than keeping her eyes on a woman she was trying not to be attracted to. But when she finally glanced back over to the lake, Rook was no where to be seen.

“Rook?” She called. Nothing. “Rook!”

Just as Neve’s blood turned to ice in panic, something breaking the surface of the water caught her attention.

It was Rook – coming up for air after submerging herself to wash to mud from her hair. Her arms raised to run through her wet locks, brushing them from her face before making her way back to shore. Now clean, but wet, her small clothes clung to her, leaving little to Neve’s imagination.

Neve was entranced.

“What?” Rook quirked a brow, noticing Neve’s eyes on her. “Do I have a leech on me or something?”

“I didn’t realise you were going to wash your hair, too. That will take ages to dry.” It wasn’t a lie, but it definitely wasn’t why Neve had been staring. Luckily, Rook didn’t notice.

“I needed to get the mud off. I’ll sit next to the campfire for a while.” Rook shivered, eyeing the wet clothes in Neve’s hands. Neve took the hint and let her magic flow through to the fabric, freezing the water and drawing the newly formed ice from the material. “Thank you.” Rook shivered, reaching for the now-dry clothes.

“You can’t wear these just yet.” Neve teased, pulling the clothes just out of Rook’s reach and eyeing the sodden bandage clinging to Rook’s leg. “I need to check your wound.”

“Neve, I’m freezing. Please.”

“You can warm up when your wound is clean.” Neve stood her ground, eyeing the trunk of a nearby fallen tree for Rook to sit on. “Sit.”

Rook’s entire body shuddered with the cold, but she obeyed Neve’s orders.

Neve knelt before her as Rook propped herself on the log, parting her legs enough for the bandage to be accessible. The mage tried to ignore the sight before her – how close she was to Rook – how, despite how cold the Warden was, heat still radiated from between her thighs. Her hands brushed lightly over the bandage, trying desperately not to make contact with the skin, unravelling it with a practised efficiency. After what felt like a lifetime, the bandage fell away from Rook’s leg, revealing a still-angry wound, blistered from the heat of being cauterised and with specks of mud clinging to the injured skin.

“This needs disinfecting, Rook.” Neve’s voice betrayed a tinge of concern. As torturous as this activity had been, Rook almost certainly would have got an infection if Neve hadn’t forced her to redress her wound. “Bite this for me.” She soothed, passing Rook a small roll of fresh bandage.

“Is it that bad?” Rook’s voice caught in her throat from the cold – at least Neve hoped it was from the cold, and not from her hand brushing against the pained skin.

“It’s not good, Trouble.”

Neve grabbed a bottle of saline solution from her bag, catching Rook’s eyes with an apologetic look as she tipped the salt water over Rook’s wound.

A pained, but dampened scream ripped from Rook’s throat, and for a second Neve felt as though her heart would break at the sound.

“You okay, Trouble?” Neve cooed as she threw the now-empty bottle to the ground. Her arm reached up to take the bandage from between Rook’s teeth as her thumb absent-mindedly drew circles across her knee.

Rook took a second to breathe before speaking again. “Neve…”

Neve’s eyes softened as she heard the trepidation in Rook’s voice. Neve had never heard her sound this vulnerable before.

“I didn’t notice Greta.”

“I know you didn’t.” Neve quirked her brow, unsure why Rook would bring this up now.

“No… I didn’t notice her because I haven’t been paying attention to her… I don't want Greta, Neve. I want you.”

“Rook…” Neve’s voice was soft, but she didn’t know what to say. Now it made sense why Rook had been quiet since she mentioned Greta. The knowledge that Rook was still hurting from their almost-kiss pained her more than she could admit.

“Neve…” Rook started, seemingly as lost for words as she was. But as Neve’s warm brown eyes met Rook’s stormy blue, she saw an intensity she hadn’t expected. “I…”

“Shh…” She interrupted, bringing the palm of her hand up to cup Rook’s cheek. Her eyes darted from the intensity of Rook’s eyes to the softness of her lips. She couldn’t resist the urge any longer. “Don’t. Don’t say it.”

Rook let herself melt into Neve’s touch as the mage guided their faces closer. Neve’s stomach filled with butterflies and pooled with heat as they drew closer together and their eyes fluttered closed. Rook no longer shivered from the cold, instead, her body relaxed entirely. Only the shaking of Rook’s breath betrayed any sense of relaxation she gave off.

An entire lifetime could have fit between the closing of their eyes and the meeting of their lips, but when they finally pressed together, Neve felt her world explode. Rook was undeniably freezing, likely en-route to hypothermia if she didn’t warm up soon, but the heat Neve felt from her lips set her soul on fire. Kissing Rook felt like a drug – one she could so easily become addicted to. Neve had never felt anything like this from kissing someone before – and it terrified her.

As quickly as their lips met, Neve pulled away, forcing herself to look anywhere but at the pain of rejection in Rook’s eyes.

“Venhedis… I shouldn’t have done that. We can’t do this.” Neve’s voice shook as she spoke – perhaps because she didn’t really believe herself, or perhaps because she did and the thought of never kissing Rook again threatened to tear her heart out.

“What do you mean we can’t do this, Neve? You just kissed me. Why are you denying yourself of something you clearly want?” Although Rook kept her voice steady, Neve could still hear the hurt behind her words. It was enough to force her to look Rook in the eye as she broke her heart.

“We can never be together, Rook.” She bit, harsher than she would have liked. “I shouldn’t have kissed you. It was a mistake. One I can’t repeat.”

Rook just blinked, opening her mouth to respond, but closing it just as quickly. Rook was a fighter, sure, but she’d never fight a battle that Neve didn’t want her to win.

“Are you okay doing the bandages yourself?”

“Yeah.”

Neve stood as she handed Rook the roll of bandages, putting as much distance between their bodies as she could, and turned to walk back to camp alone.

Chapter Text

NevexRook Playlist

“Kyra!” Greta called, surprising no one with her presence. The first sign of her and Davrin returning was Assan’s squawk echoing through the trees.

Rook’s head flicked up towards the noise. Greta’s was the first voice that either of them had heard since Neve had broken things off between them – again, and now they sat as far apart as they could – Rook tending to the fire whilst Neve ran through her notes.

Or at least, she tried to.

This was one of the issues with getting mixed up with people, not only would the thought of them both keep her awake and haunt her dreams, but the distraction Rook was proving to be meant Neve was behind on her regular cases – let alone her progress on tracking down Aelia.

But, Maker, that kiss…

Neve had been in some dangerous situations before, she certainly had the scars to prove it, but she’d never felt danger like when her lips met Rook’s. Blood magic was almost trivial to the power Rook had over her.

Still, they could never be. Trouble led to danger, and danger led to… well, pain – and Neve had had enough pain to last a lifetime. She didn’t doubt that Rook had, too. She’d come to terms with it a long time ago that a job would end her one day. Although they had never talked about it, Rook must have known the same thing about being a Warden. How long did they have individually? Let alone if they were together? What was to stop Rook getting hurt helping with one of Neve’s jobs, or Neve getting blighted and Rook being forced to watch her die?

It was kinder this way.

“What have you been up to while we were out? Living a life of luxury?” Greta asked with an easy smile. That’s what Rook needed, Neve thought, someone light… easy. Someone who wore their heart on their sleeve and always showed up with a smile. Someone who wouldn’t question their feelings or shove their anxiety onto Rook. That’s what Rook deserved. Not Neve’s anxiety and walls and constantly being hung up on questions.

“Very funny.” Rook rolled her eyes, but her voice held no real edge to it. “I got some wood chopped, but I figured I should rest since I got body slammed by an ogre.”

“What’s that?” Greta all but shouted with excitement. “You thought you should rest after being injured? Am I dreaming or have you been replaced? Maybe Neve’s been training you while we’ve been gone?” Greta caught Neve’s eye with a wide smile plastered across her face, but Rook barely looked up from her spot by the fire.

“Did I hear that right?” Davrin approached with booming laughter. “Rook was resting? How deep is Solas in that head of yours?”

“Pfft, you think Solas rested once when he was preparing for the ritual?” Rook chuckled but couldn’t mask the way her voice clipped. “Even still, all he can do is speak to me in my sleep, he’s hardly able to influence my behaviour.”

“We don’t know that for sure.” Neve chimed in, drawing stormy eyes to meet hers for the first time since they kissed.

“Did you manage to hunt while you were scouting, or do we just have rations tonight?” Rook turned her head back around quickly, choosing to change the subject rather than dwell on Solas or continue to acknowledge Neve’s presence.

“Just rations, unless you’re in the mood for snow or darkspawn.” Davrin offered an apologetic smile before Assan squawked from beside him, earning a low chuckle in return. “But Assan caught a rat, so he’s had his dinner.”

“Ah, too bad we didn’t have any gingerwort truffles to go with it, hey?” Neve felt her heart melt as Rook’s smile met her eyes again. 

“Don’t put thoughts on his head, or he’s going to want to try and find some.” Davrin laughed, scratching the feathers atop Assan’s head and earning a happy squeak in return. 

“I don’t think there’d be any out here, boy.” Greta added, adding to the number of pets the Griffon was receiving.

“Oh, don’t say that. You’ll make him sad.” Rook chided. “But maybe you could have some rations to tide you over, hey boy?”

“Rook, he’s already had his dinner. If you and Neve keep up the amount of treats you give him, he’ll turn into a ball of feathers.” Davrin argued, raising a brow at her.

Neve was trying not to pay attention to the conversation, but she couldn’t help but catch the way Rook’s shoulders slumped at the mention of her. If she didn’t feel guilty already…

“Right, well pass me over your jerky and I’ll make a stew.” Rook changed the subject pointedly but attempted to keep a lightness in her tone. The change in attitude didn’t go unnoticed though, and the Detective earned a suspicious look from Greta. Still, no one argued, and conversation flowed lightly as Rook prepared a stew – tales from their time as Wardens, what life was like before The Joining. Neve noticed again how Greta would flash Rook and Davrin a look of alarm every time they mentioned the latter. Whether it was just because Greta wanted to keep The Joining a secret from Neve, or because she was purposely trying to exclude her from feeling included, she wasn’t sure – but Neve was beginning to develop a certain distaste for the Warden.

Hours passed and the low light of the Hossberg Wetlands turned to pitch black. The night sky was completely clear of both clouds and stars. Nothing existed in this wasteland to light anything beyond their little camp.

Whilst the group couldn’t see anything not illuminated by their campfire, Neve didn’t doubt that Darkspawn still haunted the woods and hills surrounding them. Every Grey Warden who had seen this new Blight appeared disturbed by the change. Gone was the usual bravado most Warden’s carried. Gone was the confidence gained from centuries of knowledge and experience fighting the Blight. Now, the Blight was alive. It grew at rates that concerned the scholars remaining in the order and allowed for a sick red glow to emanate from every pustule it grew from – a glow that no doubt allowed the Darkspawn to see in the dark much better than they could.

Neve wondered if that was why Rook remained sitting by the campfire on watch despite everyone else offering to stay up.

But she knew otherwise.

And she knew better than to press the issue.

Rook stayed staring into the darkness until the morning light rose across the Wetlands. Even when everyone else awoke and she was offered a few hours to rest she refused, instead donning her weapons and marching towards their destination with barely a word.

Neve understood the look of concern she got from Davrin. He and Rook were close, after all. He knew they’d had something between them.

But the look she got from Greta made her want to scream.

“Neve?” Rook’s soft voice caught her attention as she stared up at the stars somewhere in the Hossberg Wetlands. She shifted onto her side, gasping when she realised she was cuddled into the crook of Rook’s arm.

When none of her usual fear rose within her, she decided not to question it. Instead, she responded with a curious “Hmm?”

Rook chuckled at Neve’s confusion, leaning in to place her lips gently against Neve’s. It felt warm, familiar. It felt like home. Neve returned the kiss eagerly, letting her body melt into Rook’s.

“When all this is over, you’ll need to show me all the best star-gazing spots in Dock Town.”

“I’m sure that can be arranged.” Neve smiled as sparkling blue eyes looked back at her. “But why wait?”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s night in Minrathous, too.” Neve smirked, “Besides, it would give us the opportunity to sleep in a proper bed for once.”

Rook’s face softened as she understood the implications of Neve’s words. “You’re letting me into your home?”

“I’m letting you into my heart.” Neve whispered. She’d have been lying if she said she hadn’t seen this coming. She may have covered her heart in a block of ice, but it had melted the moment Rook had flashed her a warm smile. Everything she’d done to put distance between them had just been delaying the inevitable.

“It’s about time.” Rook smiled, trying to add some sass to her tone but unable to hide the sentimentality she felt. “You’ve been in mine since the day we met.”

 “So, you and Greta…” Neve’s tone was hesitant, testing the waters to see if the Warden stood any chance of keeping them apart.

“It’s always been your seat, Neve. She was just keeping it warm for you.” Rook assured her, letting soft lips ghost across her cheek to accentuate her point. “I’m yours, Neve. Always have been. Always will be.”

Neve felt the air get sucked from her lungs as Rook kissed her again. Her hands clasped onto Rook’s shirt, terrified that loosening her grip would lead to them drifting away from each other once again.

“I think I might have something to say about that.” Greta’s voice, low and menacing, sounded behind them. Rook broke the kiss, twisting her head uncomfortably to look at Greta. “Don’t forget she’s emotionally unavailable, Rook.”

“Maker, you’re right.” Rook gasped, pushing Neve out of her arms and shuffling backwards to put some distance between them. The rejection made Neve feel colder than ice ever could.

“And she’s married to her job. She can never give you what I can.” Rook tore her eyes away from Neve, squeezing them shut as though to rid herself of something she couldn’t unsee.

“No, she can’t. You’re right, Greta.”

“Come here, my love.” Greta commanded, smirking at Neve as Rook scrambled to run into her arms. “I won’t let her hurt you. It might be her seat, but I’m not moving.”

Neve tried to talk, tried to cry out for Rook, but no sound would escape her throat. Instead, she remained frozen in place, watching as Greta’s face turned menacing.

“If anyone’s going to hurt you, it’s going to be me.” Suddenly the voice coming from the Warden’s mouth no longer belonged to Greta, but sounded an awful lot like Ghilan’nain. Before Rook could react. Tentacles sprouted from Greta’s body, tearing through her armour and lifting Rook off the ground by her throat.

“I’m sorry, Neve.” Rook whispered, prying at the limb that wrapped around her throat. Before Neve could break herself from her paralysis, Ghilan’nain thrust her tentacles into Rook’s body.

A scream ripped through the silence of Neve’s study, scattering the wisps to the furthest corners of the room from the door and tearing her from her dreams. She grounded herself as she opened her eyes, shaking her head lightly as she tried to separate dream from reality. She was back in the Lighthouse. It had been two days since they had returned from the Wetlands having found the cabin, details on the occupant and his relation to Minrathous, and copious amounts of notes… all relating to Warden movement in the area and potential Gloom Howler sightings.

Davrin had almost cried at the new leads.

Rook hadn’t said much, though.

In fact, they had barely spoken since the night Neve had kissed her. Not out of any sort of malice or resentment on Rook’s part – Neve could see she was hurt, but the Warden had kept her distance out of respect, and no doubt a need to lick her wounds. Neve had offered to look through the notes in the hope of finding a location to track the creature to – hoping for more success with this than her continual search for Aelia. Maybe because Neve thought she was the best for the job, despite her lack of knowledge about the Wardens. Or maybe it was because she wanted to make it up to Rook for kissing her and then walking away. She had tried to stay up since returning in an attempt to crack the case, but the groaning of her joints after sleeping on her desk made her failure painfully obvious.

Neve shook off the remnants of sleep from her body, finally being able to separate the nightmare from reality. It was then she realised that the Wisps were still trembling in the corners of her room.

The scream had been real.

The scream belonged to Bellara. She was sure of it.

Without stopping to think further, Neve sprinted towards her door, not bothering to grab her sceptre or any form of protection. The way her heart still pounded from her nightmare spurred her to move faster.

How could anyone have made it past the Lighthouse’s defences? They were supposed to be safe here. It was supposed to be out the reach of the rest of the Crossroads. But if something was here it must have come through the Eluvian – through the Library. Why hadn’t Taash, Emmrich and Rook stopped it?

Why hadn’t Taash, Emmrich and Rook stopped it?!

Neve all but flew through the door as a new wave of adrenaline spurred her on. Perhaps if she could reach Rook now, there was still time to help her, save her.

Venhedis, what if something had happened to Rook? What if Rook was… topless?

Neve could have given herself whiplash with the speed at which she stopped in her tracks. Her mind was usually so quick that her body often struggled to keep up, but here she found herself in an entirely different situation. Her heart went from pummelling in her chest to faltering and skipping a beat the moment she laid eyes on Rook and her brow furrowed as she tried to make sense of the scene before her.

A breathy laugh, part-humour-part-relief escaped her lips. There was no danger, at least not from some creature that had fought its way through the Lighthouse. The only danger here proved to be a certain Warden who was making it incredibly difficult to focus.

Even when Neve’s brain caught up with the sight in front of her, she still struggled to understand exactly what was happening. Rook stood beside Taash and Davrin, all stripped down into workout gear. Rook wore nothing but a breastband and a pair of shorts, showing off muscled shoulders and toned abs that were usually hidden by armour or Antivan leather. Her mind flashed back to the lake the other day, Rook wearing a similar outfit – soaked through and shimmering as the water dripped from her bruised body. She’d healed remarkably well considering she’d been both stabbed and crashed into by darkspawn, Neve assessed as she convinced herself that was why she was staring.

Reminding herself why she had come out in the first place, Neve’s eyes caught Bellara – her body being held confidently over Davrin’s head in a show of strength.

That explained the scream.

As if in some kind of competition, Taash and Rook held Harding and Assan respectively over their heads. Emmrich and Lucanis stood nearby, expressions a mix of concern and awe. Manfred clapped happily beside them.

“What in all of Thedas is going on here?” Neve called out, trying to look anywhere but at Rook and grabbing the attention of Bellara first.

“Oh, hey Neve!” She called back as she was placed back on her feet, “Taash, Davrin and Rook were having a competition. To see who’s strongest, I mean.”

“And the three of you are doing that by lifting your teammates? What happened to regular weights?” Neve laughed at the absurdity.

“More fun this way.” Taash stated as plainly as ever, but Neve couldn’t help but notice a blush that spread along their cheeks which was mirrored in Harding.

“Seems unfair that Rook gets Assan? Surely, he’s lighter than Harding and Bellara?” She smirked, forgoing the opportunity to tease Taash to tease Rook instead, hoping it would ease some of the tension that still sat between them.

“He’s not as light as he looks.” Davrin chuckled, “Especially when a certain detective keeps feeding him treats.”

“Are you volunteering, Neve?” Bellara suggested excitedly.

“It would even the odds.” Davrin smirked, flashing her a knowing look.

“Absolutely not.” Neve laughed, crossing her arms across her chest defensively.

“Eh, you’re right. Assan is lighter. Rook couldn’t handle lifting a person. You’re doing her a favour.” It was Taash’s turn to smirk now as they raised an eyebrow. “Look at those puny arms.”

“Puny?!” Rook gasped, half-offended and half-amused. “I might be a Ranger, but I can hold my own in a strength contest.”

“Sure you can.” Taash assured. “But compared to me, you’re puny.”

“Fine, then let me lift Harding and you take Assan!” Rook challenged.

“No.” Taash responded, not needing to explain their reasoning for Neve to know why they didn’t want to swap Harding for Assan.

“Bellara?” Rook asked.

“Nah. Sorry, Rook.” Bellara laughed, looking directly at Neve as she refused. She knew exactly what she was doing. “It’s Assan or no one if Neve won’t join in.”

“How about Lucanis or Emmrich.” Neve reasoned.

“Good Heavens, no.” Emmrich gasped, loud enough to block out Lucanis’ refusal as well.

“Manfred?” She reasoned further, knowing he was the least likely solution.

“He’s the lightest of us all. You must really want Rook to look weak.” Taash snorted, earning an amused eye roll from Rook.

“Fine.” Neve huffed, walking over to stand in front of Rook, but keeping her eyes trained on the others. “But I want it known that my prosthetic is heavy.”

“Yeah, yeah.” She earned in return.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” Rook asked with a warmth in her eyes that gave Neve hope the last of the ice had melted. Her heart squeezed at the way Rook was ever dutiful in making sure Neve was comfortable, even if she was still recovering from the hurt Neve’s actions had caused. Her heart squeezed even more when Rook’s acknowledgement meant that Neve had to look at her… properly… in the eye. The last thing Neve wanted to do right now was look at Rook, but her eyes darted to the Warden regardless. Immediately Neve’s mouth went dry. Rook stood before her with a piercing gaze that showed nothing but concern and Neve desperately tried to mask her own emotions. She had seen Rook work out before, but it was usually from a distance. Now up close, Neve could see the sweat clinging to Rook’s skin, feel the warmth radiating from her body, smell the musk that wafted from her skin. Neve wasn’t usually one to get so hooked on physical attraction. She could definitely appreciate a good body, but what she truly found attractive was a person’s mind. Rook just happened to have both.

But being close to Rook allowed Neve to see more than just trained muscles. It was only as Neve forced herself to keep eye contact with Rook that she noticed the bags under her eyes. Had Rook slept at all since the Wetlands?

“It’s fine, Rook.” She smiled, fighting with her eyes to stay in contact with Rook’s and not let them stray. “Prove them wrong.”

“Alright, friends!” Emmrich chimed, “If we’re all ready, please could our liftees lie down in front of their lifters?”

Neve eyed Harding and Bellara as they lay down on the stone. “What’s the purpose of lying down?” She wondered aloud.

“It’s what’s referred to as a deadlift, Neve.” Emmrich called back to answer her question. “Its intention is rather morbid, but essentially it aims to test if Rook here could carry you from a battlefield should you need a rescue. It prevents the advantage of having a standing start.”

Neve chose not to respond to the explanation but took it as reason enough to lower herself onto the ground. Looking up at Rook’s trained muscles and knowing they were about to get very close together as the Warden lifted her caused the Mage to inhale sharply. Luckily, no one noticed. Maybe she should swap with Bellara?

“The winner will be the person who can lift their partner from the floor and hold them, arms fully extended above their heads for the longest amount of time. Anyone who drops their partner will be disqualified from the contest.” Emmrich continued.

“Nice.” Taash chuckled, “What do we get if we win?”

“Prestige!” Emmrich delighted in informing them.

“Well, that sucks.”

“How about a date with your partner?” Bellara’s excitement cut through the air of the fade and Neve felt her blood run cold at the notion. Given how close they were, Neve knew Bellara wasn’t interested in Davrin… but the Veil Jumper certainly knew about her feelings for Rook.

“I don’t thin-“ Neve began.

“I’m in.” Taash’s booming voice drowned out her protest. “I mean, if you are too, Harding?”

“Oh? Oh! Yeah. Sounds good! A… date.”

“Right! Then let’s not delay any longer.” Emmrich called the attention of the group back to him as he raised a handkerchief above his head. “On your marks. Get set. Go!” As the handkerchief drifted to the floor, Taash, Davrin and Rook sprang from where they stood to grasp their partners. The squeals of Harding and Bellara drifted into silence as Rook drew closer and Neve’s heart pounded when she felt strong hands find purchase on her shoulders to pull her into a seated position. It pounded harder when Rook slid Neve’s arm over her shoulder, pushing their faces closer together. But it pounded hardest when Rook slid around her thigh.

Quicker than she was able to process, Rook lifted her from the ground, initially balancing Neve’s body on her knees as she thrust herself up from a squat into a bridal hold, and time appeared to slow and Rook turned her head to catch Neve’s gaze.

“Trust me?” She whispered, so close her breath ghosted against Neve’s cheek and sent goosebumps careening across Neve’s skin.  

“Always.”

Rook adjusted her grip, swinging Neve’s body upwards so she was briefly unsupported, only to be caught by Rook’s hands once more. One between her shoulders and one at the lowest point of her back. Neve felt herself be thrust upwards into the air as Rook adjusted her stance, fully extending her arms and straightening her legs.

Neve almost felt as though she was flying, and it wasn’t just because of the view.

“Taash, stop showing off.” Harding’s giggle sounded as Taash held the Dwarf above their head with a single arm.

“I’m not, I’m just saving my other arm so I can hold you for longer.”

“Aw, Taash it’s so cute how much you want that date with Harding.” Bellara squealed, turning her body in Davrin’s arms to get a better view of the couple.

“Yep.”

“How about you, Rook?” Bellara twisted her body further to look at the Warden.

“What do you mean?” Rook shot back, her tone doing nothing to hide that she knew exactly what Bellara meant.

She’d have a word with Bellara for putting Rook in that position later.

“Well, just tha-aaaa!”

“Bellara!”

Neve didn’t need to look down to know that Bellara had just twisted herself out of Davrin’s grip.

“Shit. Are you okay?” Davrin asked, the softness of his voice mixed with shock.

“Yeah, I’m good. Sorry.”

“No harm done. AT least I won’t have to find a fancy restaurant to take you to.”

As Bellara and Davrin moved to observe the rest of the context, Neve felt a quake in Rook’s grip followed by a steady, but strong intake of breath. She was beginning to struggle.

A sadness that she hadn’t expected trickled into her chest. She hadn’t wanted Rook to win, she didn’t think she could against Taash, but maybe a part of her had imagined taking Rook to her favourite spots in Dock Town. Maybe part of her imagined getting fish from Hal’s and skipping stones across the harbour as they watched the ships come in. Maybe part of her wanted to push Rook up against the crates and capture her lips in a heated kiss. Maybe the thought of losing that opportunity disappointed her.

“Woah, Taash that tickles!” Harding squealed, loosening the Qunari’s grip on her. Neve’s vision centred on the pair and time appeared to slow as Harding came close to slipping from Taash’s grip entirely.

Maybe the thought of getting what she wanted with Rook scared her more than the disappointment she felt.

Before Taash had a chance to fully lose her grip on Harding, Neve shifted her weight, putting more pressure on one of Rook’s struggling arms. The effect was almost immediate.

“Shit.” Rook gasped as her arm buckled under Neve’s weight. Davrin was there to catch her before she hit the floor.

“Are you okay, Neve?” Rook’s voice was so soft as her eyes, filled with masked disappointment, scanned her body. All Neve could do was smile weakly and nod in response. Maybe the disappointment was worse than the fear after all.

“Yes! We won!” Usually, Harding being so excited about something would fill Neve with warmth, but she couldn’t help the feeling of salt being rubbed into her wounds.

What if she had just stayed in Rook’s arms?

Rook looked tired.

It was now three days since Neve had kissed Rook, and while the ice between them had melted, Rook still appeared as though sleep had eluded her since they had returned. But it hadn’t stopped her from keeping busy. As shadows lengthened and the light of candles and enchanted lamps began to glow in the streets of Dock Town, Neve and Rook made their way back to the Eluvian after meeting with Elek and Damas in search of leads. Rook had already spent the day on her feet, having spent the morning updating the Mourn Watch on the events of Blackthorne Manor the night before… the loss of Manfred. Rook had barely stopped to sit down since, and Neve knew her well enough to see she was barely holding it together. She had hoped that Rook would have been able to rest once they returned to the Lighthouse, but just as they reached the Shadow Dragon’s Hideout news of another Darkspawn incursion in the Catacombs reached their ears.

So here they were, even though a meal and a nap would do Rook much better than traipsing through the catacombs in search of more Darkspawn, the Warden had insisted she make herself useful. Neve wouldn’t normally be one to complain about extra help, but seeing Rook run herself ragged to help everyone but herself was giving her more cause for concern than she would like to admit.

Although, Neve had to admit it was easier to track Darkspawn with a Warden leading the charge.

“Something’s wrong.” She whispered, pausing in her tracks as she rounded a corner. Even if Rook hadn’t sensed their presence, the growls of the ghouls had already alerted them to the location of the darkspawn, but now something else seemed to put Rook on edge. Peering over the Warden’s shoulder, Neve saw a group of around five Darkspawn crowded into a single corner, their backs facing away from the women.

“If they’re crowded like that, I can get them all in one go with a blizzard.” Neve suggested, already calling sparks of frost to the tips of her fingers.

“Wait.” Rook insisted with a quiet intensity, catching Neve’s cold hand with a warm one. Neve’s eyes snapped to the hand that covered her own, and she stifled a gasp as the heat from Rook spread through her body. Suddenly she was relieved for whatever was distracting Rook, or she was certain the Warden would have noticed her reaction. Neve’s mind moved slower than it should have, and she didn’t realise what Rook was doing until a familiar chill covered her hand once more. “Cover me. Don’t use any area spells.” She whispered as she moved off, leaving Neve alone at the edge of the room.

“Rook!” Neve called after her as loudly as their environment allowed her, but it wasn’t loud enough to get Rook’s attention. Instead, all Neve could do was watch as Rook stalked behind the Darkspawn, being careful not to draw their attention. Being crowded in a corner, none of the other ghouls noticed as Rook plucked one from the edge of the group, all but decapitating it with her dagger before it had a chance to alert the others. The same tactic worked again and again until only two remained.

The final two darkspawn had each other in their line of sight, forcing Rook to change her approach. Rook approached the ghoul on the right, holding her dagger in her right hand. In a flash, she clutched the ghoul from behind, slicing its throat with a practised ease, but drawing the attention of the final ghoul. Before it had a chance to move, Rook flipped the dagger in her hand, using the dead ghoul’s body as leverage to twist her own around and implant the blade into the skull of the final ghoul. The room fell silent as its body fell to the floor.

Rook had become predictable after a fight. As soon as the final enemy fell, she’d look over to Neve without hesitation to silently check she was okay, but this time she didn’t. Rook moved into the corner that had drawn the attention of the darkspawn, sank to her knees and held out a hand.

“What is it?” Neve asked, cutting the silence of the room as she moved forward. Rook held her other hand up to her without turning to look – a silent request to stay where she was. Neve obeyed, but not without a hint of confusion. Instead, staying where she was, she tilted her head to get a better view of the corner, noticing a crevice in a wall for the first time.

“Hi.” Rook whispered into the crevice. “It’s okay, you’re safe now. You can come out.”

Rook’s request was met with silence. Neve squinted to get a better look, but could see nothing else.

“I’m Rook. What’s your name?”

“Yenna.” A small voice echoed through the chamber of the catacombs.

“Yenna? That’s a nice name. What are you doing all the way down here on your own?”

“I was looking for my mum. She said she was coming down here ten days ago, but she hadn’t come back yet.”

Rook looked to Neve from her spot on the floor. Now would be the perfect opportunity to tell the child about the presence of a detective, but both women knew better than to give the child false hope.

“Why did she come down here?” Rook pushed in the hopes of there being some chance of the woman being alive.

“Those things.” Yenna’s voice broke as a cob bubbled up from her chest. Neve still couldn’t see the girl, but it was clear she had been through hell. “One of them scratched her and it made her sick. She said she was going to try and find a cure, but she didn’t come back.”

Neve watched as Rook’s shoulders slumped at the news. If the woman had been blighted, it was entirely possible she could have turned into one of the ghouls Rook had just killed.

“This is my friend, Neve.” Rook said with a gentle smile, tilting her head towards the Mage. Neve watched as a little head covered with messy red hair peeked out from behind the corner. The girl couldn’t have been older than eight. “She’s a Shadow Dragon. Do you know who they are?” The girl nodded, fascinated eyes roaming over Neve’s clothes. “They can help you. Would you like that?” The girl nodded again, turning to face Rook.

“I can’t move. One of them got my leg.” The girl started sobbing again and Neve felt an unwelcome chill run down her spine. If the girl was infected, she’d likely meet the same as her mother.

“One of them got your leg?” Yenna nodded and Rook looked back over to Neve with panic in her eyes. If the girl was infected too, it was only a matter of time before she met the same fate as her mother. Neve attempted to give a reassuring glance back, but she doubted its usefulness.

“How long ago?” Rook asked, turning back to look at Yenna.

“Two days ago.” She confirmed, and Neve watched Rook’s body tense at the news. She didn’t need Rook to talk to know exactly what was going through her mind. There was no cure for the Blight… no cure except becoming a Warden. Rook and Davrin had never talked about the intricacies of the Joining, but what Neve had gleaned from their brief conversation on the matter was that calling it ‘an unpleasant experience’ was like comparing an ant hill to a volcano. The life of the child now sat in Rook’s hands – either she let her die as peacefully as she could, or she’d have to subject the child to the same horror she went through to become immune to the Blight.

Rook turned again to meet Neve’s gaze, and where Neve had seen tiredness before the catacombs, she now just saw sorrow. Rook had made her choice, but she needed support to make her believe it was the right one.

Neve moved forward to place a reassuring hand on Rook’s shoulder.

“We can help, Yenna. Rook here is a Grey Warden.” The way Rook looked up at Neve with so much gratitude almost broke her. So often Rook was there for everyone else, running across Thedas to solve their problems, sitting beside them to act as a shoulder to cry on. And now, as Rook was faced with an impossible decision and trying desperately to hold back tears, Neve was able to repay the favour.

“A Grey Warden?” Yenna repeated, sticking her head further out from the crevice and crawling forward as much as she could manage. “My mum told me stories about Grey Wardens. She said you were heroes.”

“They are heroes.” Neve assured her, a warm smile causing Rook’s eyes to widen as though she was looking at something beautiful and was desperate to take in the sights. Neve’s heart fluttered at the obvious admiration. “Especially Rook here. Did you know she’s the one who chased off that dragon a few months ago?”

Rook’s eyes grew wider still. They’d had a conversation a few weeks ago while Neve fussed over Assan where Neve had recounted the tales of Wardens her uncle used to regale her with. Rook had made an attempt at flirting as she always had, trying to get Neve to explicitly call her a hero, too. She hadn’t taken the bait then, but she was more than happy to now that Rook needed reassurance that she was making the right choice.

“Really?” The child gasped, looking at Rook with the same admiration that Rook held in her eyes. Neve didn’t trust herself to not reflect the look back at her.

“I did. Do you want to know a secret?” Rook asked, breaking the hold Neve’s gaze had on her. Yenna nodded in response. “It wasn’t that scary.”

Rook reached her arm out again to wrap around the child’s small frame before lifting her up and holding her in one arm to take a look at her leg. Neve felt more of the ice on her heart melt away as she took in the scene. She’d seen Rook help people before, she’d seen the hardness of her face in the midst of battle, she’d seen the look of softness in her eyes just before they kissed and the hurt after Neve rejected her, but she had never seen Rook act like this before. Neve could have been convinced that Rook didn’t have a maternal bone in her body, but seeing the woman with a child clinging to her planted a dangerous image in Neve’s head – one of a future she could never entertain the thought of having.

“Does it hurt?” Rook asked softly, twisting the leg gently in her hand.

“A lot.” Yenna nodded, tightening her grip around Rook and burying her face into the crook of Rook’s neck.

“Oh dear. We’ll get you sorted, okay?”

“Okay.” Yenna sniffed.

Neve walked a few paces ahead of Rook and Yenna for the entire journey to Lavendel. She’s always been a protector, but she’d never quite felt it weigh as heavily upon her as it did when Rook was using both hands to carry an injured child. Neve found herself unable to look back at Rook for the entire journey, terrified that looking into vulnerable blue eyes just once would cause her entire being to collapse and her resolve to crumble completely. She needed to keep the distance between them. She needed to stay strong, to stay focussed – and Rook had an uncanny ability to make her lose all sense of thought.

Luckily, they made it to Lavendel without issue.

“Evka!” Rook shouted as they stepped through the Eluvian. “Antoine!” Rook rushed up the stairs ahead of Neve as Yenna still clung to her.

By the time Neve caught up, Rook was kneeling down next to Yenna, who had been placed on a cot but appeared unresponsive. Evka and Antoine were quickly checking bottles and pouring liquid behind her.

“Is she okay?” Neve asked, voice filled with softness for Rook and concern for the child.

“The blight…” Rook sighed, brushing a strand of red hair away from the child’s freckled face. “We might have been too late, Neve.” Her voice broke and Neve saw the storm of emotions within the blues of her eyes. Losing Manfred had been one thing – Neve hadn’t been there to witness it, but she had seen the brief aftermath once the group had returned. Rook had been so focused on comforting Emmrich that she hadn’t stopped to think about herself. It had been the same when Varric died – Rook had appeared so focused on the task at hand that she hadn’t once acknowledged the effect his loss had on her. Rook always carried everyone else’s problems and barely gave her own the time of day.

A pang of guilt echoed in Neve’s chest as she mulled on the thought. The one time Rook had expressed wanting something, Neve had pushed her away – twice. And yet here she was, still dealing with Neve’s problems as if they were her own and asking for nothing in return.

She’d be a fool to not acknowledge her feelings for Rook on some level, but fear still held her back. Fear would never stop holding her back. And whilst every fibre of her being wished to reach out and support Rook like the Warden had done for her so many times, all she could do to help was place a comforting hand on Rook’s shoulder.

“Tell me I’m making the right choice.” Rook leaned into Neve’s touch, pressing herself into the Detective’s leg. Neve’s resolve tore in two as she battled with herself, the feeling of Rook seeking her out for comfort caused her heart to swell in her chest, but the intimacy of the situation caused a spike of fear. She took a breath to bury both feelings, trying to focus on how she could give Rook the support she needed – as a friend.

“You are.” Neve’s voice was resolute as her hand came up to thread through Rook’s hair, pushing fallen chestnut strands away from her eyes and scratching lightly at her scalp. A hint of a smile crossed over her face when the slightest amount of tension melted away from Rook’s shoulders. She pushed down the fear that crept into her chest and allowed herself to indulge in the contact. Rook needed her, and if Neve could provide the comfort that she so obviously needed, who was she to turn her down? This felt like the easiest way to help – a comforting touch between close friends. Neve continued the movement absentmindedly as she wondered what else she could do to help Rook in the name of ‘close friendship’. Perhaps more indulgent touches? Words of affirmation? This she should definitely not do for both their sakes… but if it helped Rook feel better? How far was she willing to push her own boundaries?

“Rook…” She began, surprising herself with her own voice and finding herself unsure of where her words would take her.

But neither of them would find out where the conversation would take them.

“If we’re doing The Joining, Neve needs to leave, Kyra.” Greta said sternly as she appeared in the room, brown eyes burning into Neve’s hand on Rook’s hair. Neve was speechless for a moment – unsure to respond as she tried to unravel Greta’s response to her presence. Could the hostility just be because of Grey Warden secrecy, because Greta had sensed something off between her and Rook in the Wetlands, or because Rook was currently leaning her weight against Neve’s leg, eyes flickering as teal nails scratched against her scalp?

“Greta…” Rook tested, her voice holding back a harsh tone, but Neve could sense the vulnerability behind her voice. Even the strongest warrior needed someone there for them in vulnerable moments… but wasn’t Neve trying to push Greta to be that person for Rook? Neve paused as she mulled over her current position. Maybe stroking Rook’s hair was too much.

The tension seemed to reappear in Rook’s shoulders as she unthreaded her fingers from the Warden’s hair.

“No, Kyra. This is Warden business. The Joining is sacred, and it’s supposed to be kept a secret. They kill people who refuse to go through with it to stop the secret from getting out.”

“I don’t want to cause an issue, I’ll go.” Neve acquiesced. They were here for Yenna, after all, and staying would just delay the girl’s cure.

“No, Neve.” Rook stood, catching Neve’s hand to stop her from moving away. This was the second time in a matter of hours their hands had touched, but the warmth spread across her body all the same. “She stays.” Rook’s eyes bore into Greta with the same intensity as Greta had given looking at Neve’s hand.

“Don’t make me force her out.” Greta bit, eyes still burning and moving back to Neve.

“Try me.” Rook squared her shoulders, rationality giving way to the raw emotion from the stress that had been building over the last few days.

Unless this was some sort of foreplay specific to Grey Wardens, Neve didn’t think her match-making efforts were going very well.

“Woah, woah. No need to get snappy.” Evka broke the tension as she moved between the two Wardens. “Neve’s proven she can be trusted. She can stay if Rook wants her to… and if she’s okay with it.” She placed a chalice down on a table beside Yenna and turned to Neve. “It’s not going to be pretty.”

“I work against the Venatori. I can almost guarantee I’ve seen worse.” She stated, tightening her grip on Rook’s hand and earning a grateful squeeze back. Despite the tension that had just exploded between Rook and Greta, the other woman still looked as though she wanted to bite Neve’s hand off.

“Alright, then.” She sighed with a tight smile, turning her attention back to the child. Wordlessly, Antoine moved to his wife’s side, lifting Yenna’s head to allow Evka to pour the liquid down her throat.

“What is that?” Neve whispered to Rook, curiosity piquing as a dark red liquid flowed from the chalice.

“Archdemon blood.” Rook whispered back, keeping her eyes glued to Yenna and Evka.

“What?” She whisper-shouted, but didn’t have the opportunity to ask more questions before Yenna’s small body started convulsing. Rook let go of her hand in and instant and held the child in her arms, rocking her gently and whispering.

“Shh, you’ll be okay. Just get through the burning and you’ll be okay.”

Neve’s eyes widened in horror as she watched the scene before her. To know that every Grey Warden, dead and alive, had drunk archdemon blood to gain their senses spiked a fear in her that she hadn’t anticipated. She knew the Wardens blighted themselves, but archdemon blood. Surely consuming such a thing would kill most people?

And yet Rook had survived… she always found a way to survive.

Rook held Yenna for what felt like a lifetime before the convulsions stopped. A trickle of blood ran from her nose and Rook let out a sob at the sight.

“Did she make it?” Teary blue eyes looked to Evka’s for guidance, but she found none.

“She’s young, Rook. The Joining is hard on everyone, but especially on kids.”

“Fuck…” The tears fell as Rook held Yenna in her arms and Neve wanted nothing more than to wipe them away. Just as the temptation won her over and she started to move towards Rook, Yenna coughed, and Rook’s body melted into sobs as she clutched the child in her arms. Neve felt tears prick in the corners of her own eyes at the sight. Rook felt so deeply, so freely. In the space of an evening, she had practically adopted and saved the life of an injured child, despite her body screaming at her to rest.

“Welcome back, little one.” Evka smiled, moving towards the child with medical supplies clutched in her hands. “Do you mind if I look her over, Rook?”

“Of course.” Rook wiped her tears with the back of her hand as she placed Yenna back on the cot. “You’re going to be okay.” She whispered, stroking down the girl’s hair before turning to face Neve.

“You’ve had it rough today.” Neve whispered, restraining herself from reaching out to comfort Rook further.

“I’ve had worse days.” Rook smiled softly and the sight made Neve’s heart swell.

“Like the day you drank archdemon blood to become a Grey Warden?” Neve poked, trying to shake the image of Rook’s body convulsing from her mind.

“I survived that day.” A glint appeared in Rook’s eye as she spoke, “And I got drunk with the other initiates after, so the day ended up okay. Woke up with the worst hangover the next morning, though.”

“I’m not surprised.” Neve chuckled in response, turning her gaze away from Rook briefly, the humour falling from her expression being replaced by a soft smile as her gaze caught Rook’s once more. “You always seem to find a way to survive, though. To pull everyone else through with you.”

“Not Manfred.” Rook sighed, eyes flicking away from Neve’s in shame.

“No, not Manfred.” Neve fought the urge to bring a finger to Rook’s jaw to lift her gaze back up. “But even you can’t save everyone.”

“I could save her, though.” Rook stood a little straighter as she looked back over to the child.

“I didn’t doubt you for a second.”

“That’s good to know.” Rook moved into Neve’s space slowly, tentatively; pausing for a second to test whether Neve would run before wrapping her arms around Neve’s shoulders and pulling her into a warm embrace. Neve melted into the touch – being unfamiliar with being so close to someone without the promise of sex, but finding comfort in it all the same. She ignored the feeling of exposure that dug at her chest and settled her chin on Rook’s shoulder, wrapping her own arms around the Warden’s waist. “Thank you.” Rook whispered into Neve’s shoulder.

“What for?” Neve chuckled softly, allowing herself to indulge in the moment.

“Being here.” Rook mumbled, her grip growing just a little tighter.

“Always.” Neve breathed, meaning the word with every fibre of her being. No matter where they were or what they meant to each other, that was one thing Neve was certain of. Rook had carved out a little space in her soul and made herself a home.

It was as Neve opened her eyes as the hug ended that she noticed Greta’s stare fixed on them from the corner of the room.

On the fourth day since the Wetlands, Neve sighed as her eyes scanned over the Grey Warden documents they had found in the cabin. Sure, she was the best in the team at tracking things, people, money, you name it, but without the knowledge of a Warden, making sense of what she was reading was proving tricky.

Just as the thought crossed her mind, a knock sounded at her door.

“Come in!” She called, not taking her eye off the sentence she was trying to make sense of.

“Hey, Detective. Thought you could use a coffee?” Neve wasn’t surprised that it was Rook at her door, but the way her heart skipped a beat at the softness of her voice surprised her every time. Although this time it was marred with concern as Neve noticed the bags under Rook’s eyes had grown darker. Rook still hadn’t slept.

“You’re a lifesaver.” She smiled, raising her gaze to meet Rook’s. “And actually, you could be in more than one way.”

Rook mirrored the raise of her eyebrow with a questioning smirk as she placed the coffee on Neve’s desk, eyeing the paperwork spread across the ancient wooden surface.

“Oh? Still going through this Warden stuff?”

“Mhm.” Neve nodded, dropping her gaze to her own notes and the large gaps where she was missing knowledge. “I’m missing… something. But I need a Warden’s knowledge to fill in the gaps.”

Rook brushed a hand through her hair, tussling the strands so they’d stay out of her face as she bent over the desk, using the tips of two fingers to push the paper around and get a better look. Neve watched the motions closer than she should have, feeling a shaky breath escape her throat as her eyes scanned up to Rook’s furrowed brow and tense jaw.

“I can always ask Davrin if you’re not comfortable talking about it.” She offered, suddenly regretting asking for Rook’s help, “It must be hard for you to talk about after Weisshaupt.”

“No…” Rook was quick to jump in to assure her, and Neve felt her heart skip, all regret melting away with a single word. “Davrin was at Weisshaupt for longer than I was, but it hasn’t been my home for a while. Not really. I still know what I'm talking about, though.”

“As long as you’re sure?”

Neve felt her heart skip again when Rook looked back up at her and offered a soft, reassuring smile as a rogue strand of chestnut hair fell in front of her eyes.

“Of course.”

The effervescent glow of a wisp reflected in the Warden’s eyes, turning the muted blue into a colour that could envy the brightness of the Fade itself. As if sensing Neve’s fascination the spirit moved closer to Rook, the edges of its glow brushing across her face and running down to where her fingers still pushed against Neve’s notes. Warm brown eyes followed its movement and she couldn’t help but chastise herself. Neve still hadn’t figured out why the wisps were drawn to her, but she knew enough to tell that they were fascinated by whatever she showed an interest in. Neve had tried to put distance between her and Rook since the Wisps had interrupted their almost kiss, but she was finding it harder by the day to push away feelings that were growing undeniable. Her moment of weakness – the kiss they had shared in the Wetlands, had only served to confirm what she already knew.

Neve had had her fair share of lovers over the years, a few developed into relationships, fewer she had fallen in love with. But no one had ever set her soul on fire with a single kiss like Rook had. No one unravelled the cold defences of her heart and slotted in so easily as Rook had. No one played on her mind and made Neve question herself as much as Rook had.

Rook had made her question the deepest parts of herself, the parts she was determined to keep hidden from the world. Rook was both the knife that dug into old wounds and the salve that soothed the pain. Rook was the cause of both the noise in her mind that made her lose focus and the quiet as the world faded away when their eyes met across a crowded room. That second where Neve’s lips had met Rook’s had caused one of the greatest joys Neve had ever felt, only to be followed by the greatest sorrow as she turned her back on the Warden.

If Neve didn’t know better, she would have thought she was in love.

…wait. No, no, no, she couldn’t be in love. That was impossible… that was-

The sound of Rook picking up a sheet of paper yanked Neve out of her thoughts with a gasp at the internal confession, and the wisp whisked itself away under the safety of her desk, as if sensing Neve’s inner turmoil.

“You okay?” The furrow in Rook’s brow changed from intrigued to concerned as her eyes shot to Neve’s.

“Always.” Neve flashed a smile that she hoped was convincing, but Rook’s gaze still saw through her mask.

“Are you sure?” She asked, standing a little straighter and hugging her arms to her chest, “You seem a little… off? Do you need some space? Am I intruding?” Rook asked with anxiety fraying the edges of her words. Always so thoughtful.

“N-No.” Neve stuttered, almost too quickly to quell Rook’s worry at making her uncomfortable. She chastised herself before regaining her composure, chuckling lightly and flashing the Warden an easy smile. “You’re fine, Rook. Don’t worry.”

“Are you sure?” Rook pushed, brow still knitted in concern. “I know things have been… different between us since the Wetlands. You’ve made it clear we’re just friends and I respect that. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable by stepping into your space when you want to be alone.”

“I’m sure, Rook. You don’t have to worry about overstepping. I trust you to respect my boundaries – but besides that, I enjoy your company.” Neve smiled, but it didn’t reach the corners of her eyes. A pit formed in her chest every time she denied her feelings for Rook, and it only seemed to be growing wider, consuming more of her than she could have imagined.

“Alright then.” Rook smiled back, a little bit brighter than Neve’s own. “For the record, I enjoy your company too. But I need to insist on being the one to make the coffee.”

“I won’t argue with you there.” Finally, the corners of Neve’s eyes crinkled as Rook’s humour dug between the gaps in Neve’s defences. This she could do. This was easy. Spending time with Rook always felt bittersweet – the clash between wanting more and the fear causing a constant inner turmoil to churn Neve’s stomach. Neve doubted it would get easier, but Rook’s presence still acted as a balm to soothe her bruised heart, regardless. “I wonder if you should be drinking it, though?” She decided to push, concern for Rook growing over the last few days.

“Oh? What do you mean?” Rook flashed her a puzzled look.

“When was the last time you slept, Rook?” Neve kept her voice soft as she tested the waters. This would no doubt be a touchy subject for the Warden and Neve was almost certain Rook wouldn’t want to talk about it – whether out of a duty to not cause Neve worry, or out of a want to not make her feel guilty, Neve wasn’t sure.

“Ah… you noticed.” Ocean eyes dodged warm brown as Rook tussled a hand through her hair.

“I have.” Neve nodded, before pushing her luck further. “Is everything alright, Rook? You can still talk to me.”

Rook’s eyes dropped as a small but sad smile tugged at the corner of her lip. “Is anything alright at the moment?”

“Have you heard about Yenna?”

Rook nodded, “Yeah, Evka sent a missive earlier today… she’s doing alright.”

“She’s a tough kid.” Neve assured her, yearning to reach across the desk to thread their fingers together, but thinking better of it. “And she’ll have a tough Warden to guide her through it.”

“She won’t if I can’t stop the Gods. Maker, it’s not even that Gods that pose the biggest threat right now. The Order’s already on its knees. If I don’t stop the Gloom Howler there’ll be no Wardens to guide her at all.”

“But there will be, Rook.” Neve breathed, leaning back on her chair to both put some distance between herself and the ever-so-tempting hand and to meet Rook’s gaze better. “And we will stop the Gloom Howler, I promise. If we put our heads together, we can achieve anything.”

“It’s unlike you to be so… optimistic.” The corners of Rook’s mouth twitched up further as she caught Neve’s gaze again. “Who are you and what have you done with Neve?”

“Oh hush, you. This is your doing. You’re a bad influence.” Neve’s laugh was hearty as the tension in her body melted away. Maybe spending time with Rook could get easier?

“Don’t put the blame on me!” Rook teased, looking at Neve through squinted eyes as she picked up a notebook and moved to sit on Neve’s cot.

“Well, I don’t see anyone else here spreading optimism around as much as you do.”

“Oh, I don’t know. I think Harding or Bellara could give me a run for my money. Besides, I’m much more sarcastic than they are – keeps me level-headed.”

“Level-headed? Is that what they’re calling it these days?” Neve teased further, feeling a strange comfort as they slipped into a familiar back and forth.

“If you don’t stop, you can make the coffee.” Rook flashed a smirk with a mischievous glint in her eye. “See how far your optimism takes you then.”

“I thought you liked my optimism!”

“Oh, don’t get me wrong. It suits you, but I’d like my dry humour and dark wit to be acknowledged, too. Besides, it’s not optimism if it’s true.” Rook laughed now and Neve could have sworn the glow of the wisps bloomed brighter across the room.

“So, you’re saying you can take down the Gloom Howler, then?” Neve chuckled teasingly.

“You got me there. What’s one more ancient evil on top of the others we’re facing? Got to start somewhere.”

“There you go, then.” Neve smiled as a comfortable silence took over the room. She hadn’t been able to concentrate in days, every other thought reaching for what she could never have. But now with Rook in the room, her eyes were able to follow the lines of text in a way that made sense. Something about the Warden’s presence was grounding, peaceful; everything seemed easier and the world outside the Lighthouse didn’t seem so scary.

Minutes turned to hours as the women flicked through notes, comparing what information they were absorbing with what Rook already knew from experience.

They moved around the room, meeting occasionally at Neve’s desk to stand side-by-side and compare documents. Their hips pressed close together as they leaned over the table, arms and hands close to touching. The scent of Rook’s soap – bergamot and sea salt, rose from the warmth of her skin and overwhelmed Neve’s senses. The wisps stayed floating in the rafters of the room, careful not to disturb the detective’s investigation. It made an unusual change, but not an unwelcome one. It felt so rare of a moment to feel completely alone with Rook.

But her heart ached regardless, knowing this was something she could never allow herself to have.

Eventually, Neve found herself sitting beside Rook on her cot on the edge of her room. They seemed close to a breakthrough, unravelling the strings of the Gloom Howler’s movements, from the first sighting to the day the cabin owner died.

Neve tried to ignore the way Rook seemed to be slowing down. She clearly didn’t want to talk about her reasons for not sleeping, but it was becoming painfully obvious that Rook was feeling the lack of sleep intensely – so much so that she struggled to keep her back straight against the wall behind them, her head slumping lightly onto Neve’s shoulder as she continued to flick through documents.

It felt… comfortable. There was no expectation from the contact. It had just happened naturally as they sat beside each other. Neither was it the first time that Rook had fallen asleep on Neve’s shoulder. Before the Wisp Incident, Neve often found herself sitting beside Rook in her room, looking at the fish swimming behind the window and flicking through notes together. Rook’s usually regarding Elven gods – Neve’s usually detailing one of her cases. The slow descent of Rook’s heavy head onto Neve’s shoulder had grown close to mundane back then – just another part of her day. But it was the only part of the day to occupy that much space in her mind.

Neve chose not to fight it now – to be comfortable in the moment. Bellara’s head often found itself in a similar position when they were talking, so why would Rook be any different?

Except, everything about Rook was different – even if Neve struggled to admit it to herself.

The temptation to push Rook off her shoulder was unyielding, but Neve couldn’t deny the comfort it brought her to feel the weight of Rook’s head on her shoulder. It was almost as if the last few weeks hadn’t happened. Maybe they could be normal again?

Normal…

It was then that Neve had a breakthrough. For the first time in days, with Rook perched on her shoulder – the weight tethering her to the moment rather than letting her mind roam freely, Neve was able to see the patterns in the notes emerge. Neve had been looking for the abnormal in the notes of the man who owned the cabin. But the answer lay in what was normal. The only place that hadn’t changed through the Blight and the fall of Weisshaupt was a place known only as the Redoubt. Filled with Blight and Darkspawn as anywhere else had been, but unchanging where everything else grew better or worse.

That was their location.

“Rook!” Neve gasped with excitement as shifting slightly on her cot to show the Warden the notes in her hand. Relief flooded her body, lifting some of the weight from the feeling of finally getting a break in a case.

A second passed and Rook didn’t respond. A second more and the sounds of Neve’s office faded to silence as the echo of her voice dulled. A third and the silence caused her ears to buzz.

“Rook?” Her voice was quieter this time – tentative. Her cheek pressed to the top of Rook’s head as she craned her neck to look at the Warden’s face.

Rook was fast asleep.

Neve’s face softened as her heart squeezed at the sight. How many days had it been since Rook had last slept? How many days had it been since Neve had been able to focus?

Despite both women likely being the cause of the other’s issue – here they were, side by side, helping each other without even realising it.

A smile pricked at the corners of Neve’s mouth and a soft laugh forced itself from her lips.

Being in love wasn’t impossible – it was very much real, and very much happening.

Neve Gallus was in love with Kyra Thorne.

And yet, she had spent weeks pushing her away.

There was still so much in the way. Neve might have the feelings, but could she bring herself to show them? Would Rook forgive her for pushing her away so many times? Could Neve forgive herself? If she were to speak up, would she be getting in the way of Rook and Greta? Or was Greta just encroaching on what was already hers – what had been hers since they first laid eyes on each other over a field of Venatori corpses?

Neve’s mind raced again – the constant overthinking growing exhausting. Things with Rook were never simple – or perhaps they always had been, and Neve just couldn't bring herself to accept it. Yet there was always something in the way – there was always a greater danger.

Neve let out a long, weighted breath that whipped up stray strands of chestnut hair as she turned her face against Rook’s head. The soap-scented breath back in only added to the pain growing in her chest.

“You’re going to be the death of me, Trouble.” She whispered against the distant trill of wisps and the low inhale and exhale of the Warden. “But I can’t bring myself to be the death of you.” Her voice broke as she spoke the words, forcing herself to come to peace with what could never be.

Neve forced herself to blink away the tears that pricked at the corner of her eyes as she stood, lowering Rook gently onto the cot so as to not disrupt her likely tenuous grasp on sleep. A blanket placed over the Warden’s body provided the final barrier she’d erect between the two, and Neve turned slowly, but decisively towards the door of her office taking the briefest of looks back as a tear finally broke through her defences.

Chapter Text

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Neve stifled a sob as she walked out of her office, leaning her back lightly against the door as it clicked into place. She stayed there for a minute, then two, then three as she fought the urge to turn around and lose herself in Rook’s arms. Her heart pounded and pulled, betraying the urge of her mind to put as much distance between her and the door as possible. A rogue wisp chittered past her head, swooping briefly to brush against her arm, pulling her from her thoughts in the process and causing her to crack a gentle smile. Neve let her eyes fall closed and pulled the surprisingly fresh air of the Fade into her lungs, grounding herself in the sensation of her expanding chest and the rising of her shoulders, before letting out a strong and steady breath through her lips. As the final dregs of air left her lungs she opened her eyes once more, hoping that the whites weren’t too tainted by red. She clenched her hands into fists, allowing her short, teal nails to dig painfully into the soft flesh of her palms and squeezed a few times to release the last of the tension she’d been collecting over the last few minutes. It was a weak dam to hold back a tide; only a short-term solution for feelings she knew wouldn’t lessen - feelings that wouldn't become any less torturous.

Neve lived and breathed logic and rationality but love defied both. It had crept up on her in a way she had never expected and sunk its razor-sharp teeth directly into her jugular. Just like such a wound, there was no hope for her now that love had got a hold of her. There could be no running in hopes the feelings would fade. There could be no distractions in hopes of someone else catching her eye. Neve’s heart was in Rook’s hands, no matter how hard she had kicked, screamed and fought to resist handing it over – the result had been the same in the end.

Her breath shook again as the reality of her feelings sunk in.

This feeling – these emotions hurt more than any Venatori-inflicted wound she had ever experienced. They hurt more than the injury she had sustained following Rook to stop Solas’ ritual - more than Brom’s death - more than her family using her to climb the social classes in Minrathous. Neve wondered if loving Rook would still hurt as much if she just gave into the feeling and let herself be loved by Rook in return.

But the risk was too high.

The risk would always be too high.

At least if she loved her from a distance, Rook would be alive. She wouldn’t be put at risk from being mixed up with Neve and all the baggage and danger that came with her job. She wouldn’t have to worry about the day when a job would be the death of her, leaving Rook to forever stare at the door of their home not knowing when or if Neve would return.

“Neve?” Bellara’s voice, usually excitable and bright, was instead filled with concern as she broke the silence. Her eyes were wide as she tried to piece together whatever was going on with her friend. “What’s wrong?”

It wasn’t a question she heard very often. Neve was so used to hiding behind a stoic mask that even she forgot she had emotions sometimes. Usually, they were much easier to hide or file away in a corner of her mind to be dealt with later. Bellara, unfortunately, seemed to have a habit of seeing through her mask – the only person more adept at reading her mask was Rook.

“I…” Neve began before her breath caught in her throat. She grit her teeth together as her fingers came up to rub against her forehead. She let her arm flop back down to her side as she huffed out a breath, brow furrowed, and warm brown eyes filled with a sadness she’d never be able to convey with words.

“Oh, Neve.” Bellara sighed sympathetically as she approached. “Do you want to grab a coffee and we can talk about it?”

Talking… Neve mulled the idea over in her mind. Usually she’d be the first to offer a shoulder to cry on in their team, but having the offer extended to her? It felt new - vulnerable. She wasn’t sure she could find the words for the way she was feeling, let alone speak them out loud to another person. But the way her heart had started to leak like a cracked jug told her she needed to do something - anything to stop it from breaking entirely. 

“Sure, Bel. Thanks.” Neve smiled as bravely as she could but could tell Bellara found it a weak offering. 

“Why don’t you wait for me in your office, and I’ll go grab you a coffee?” 

“We can’t… not in there.” Neve’s response was a little less calm than she would have liked, revealing her cards entirely to the Veil Jumper. Mercifully, Bellara didn’t press, simply raising a sympathetic, but curious eyebrow and moving to turn back towards the Dining Hall. 

“Let’s go in here then.”

Neve cradled the mug in the palms of her hands as though the dark liquid inside was the only thing tethering her to the Fade. Annoyingly, she was starting to get used to decent coffee, so much so that she was wondering how she’d cope going back to making it herself if…

“What’s going on, Neve?” Bellara’s voice was soft and comforting against the crackle of the fireplace. 

“Would you believe me if I said everything is fine?” Neve’s attempt at a chuckle came out as a deflated breath. Even if she hadn’t been so obvious with her emotions, Bellara would have picked up something being wrong with the mage. She was like a sister to her, after all.

“Don’t try to fool me.” Bellara warned through a soft giggle. Neve wondered how many facets there were to the Veil Jumper that she could go from excitable and passionate to offering such a safe space for Neve to open up about her emotions - coaxing her gently and never pressing too much. “Is it about Rook?”

Neve instinctively closed in on herself at the question, wishing to avoid it like a nail bending under the swing of a hammer - instead, it hit her right on the head. She’d have to put in some work to make sure she wasn’t folding at the simple mention of the Warden’s name. 

Neve placed the mug carefully on the table between her and Bellara, running a warm hand through her hair as she tested the words at the tip of her tongue.

They were too much, she’d have to keep it simple.

“It is.” She found herself sighing.

“I figured.” Bellara offered a sympathetic smile but stayed silent to give Neve the space to talk.

“She… I…” Neve chastised herself. She prided herself for having a quick wit and here she was stuttering over her words. Love didn’t suit her. 

“You love her.” Bellara said simply, softly as though Neve were a scared nug in a forest, ready to run at the slightest sign of danger.

Neve huffed in response, indignant in nature but aimed at no one but herself. She couldn’t help but crack a smile at the irony. 

“I do.” The confession was like nothing she had ever felt before - elation, freedom, fear, imprisonment. She would have bottled it if she could and sold it to the highest bidder. That kind of adrenaline rush didn’t happen on a day-to-day basis, even when you spent your days chasing Venatori. 

Bellara gasped in response, the excitement returning to her demeanour. “Neve! That’s amazing! Have you told her? Oh no, is that why you’re upset?” 

“What? No Bel!” it came out as a laugh, but her tone was harsher than she had planned. “And I’m not going to. I can’t tell her.” 

“But, why? She loves you, too.” Bellara looked like a kicked puppy and Neve found her heart hurting more than it did a minute ago.

“Because we could die tomorrow. It’s cruel. And you don’t know that.” Neve’s voice strained as she fought to hold back her emotions. Somehow Bellara’s look of sympathy confused her enough to hold back the tidal wave.

“I do know that, Neve.” Bellara kept her voice soft as she tried to convince the mage. “It’s written all over her face every time she looks at you.”

“But that’s not… You can't just tell someone’s in love because of how they look at a person.”

“You can. It’s the same way you look at her.” Bellara couldn’t help the smirk that crossed her face as a wave of victory washed over her.

“I don’t look at Rook like I love her… I look at Rook as if she’s, well, Rook.” Neve protested, determined to fight tooth and nail to find any reason why they shouldn’t be together.

“You don’t look at anyone else like you look at her.” The smile plastered on Bellara’s face was beginning to irk the detective. She needed facts and evidence to believe in a theory, and the way they looked at each other wasn’t enough to prove it.

“Well, she’s our boss.” Neve reasoned, trying to find any excuse to debunk Bellara’s theory.

“Okay, so did you ever look at Varric that way?”

Neve scoffed in response. “I don’t know how I used to look at Varric.”

“We could always ask Harding to compare?” Bellara started laughing now and Neve let out a warm huff of air. Never mind coffee, she needed wine – or something stronger.

“You’re impossible.” Neve rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the smirk that tugged at her lips.

“And you, Neve Gallus, are in love.” The mirth in Bellara’s voice was palpable, but instead of a chuckle or surrender from the Detective, all she received in response was Neve’s sad brown eyes that turned to stare at her clasped hands.

“I don’t…” Neve huffed again, stopping herself before she could finish her sentence. The time for denying she was in love was long gone. “I’m not used to this, Bel. I’ve never felt so vulnerable around a person before.”

Rather than teasing further, Bellara seemed to grasp the weight of Neve’s fear. She moved to kneel down in front of the mage, placing her own hands gently over Neve’s. “That’s not a bad thing, Neve. Why don’t you tell me how she makes you feel?”

Neve wanted to protest at first, but the thought of being able to talk freely about her feelings in a safe space proved to be too much of a temptation. She mulled over her words, finally cracking a smile as she spoke.

“She makes me feel safe.” She began, testing the waters of how saying the words out loud made her feel. It was almost as though a tiny weight had lifted off her heart. “Rook never judges people. No matter how cold or distant I’ve been. Even when I kissed her one minute and walked away the next. She gave me space, but not once did she make me feel bad for it.” She paused, taking in a shaky breath as she continued, “It feels as though I’ve known her my whole life. Like it doesn’t take any effort for her to understand what’s going on in my head.”

“You might laugh at this,” Bellara started as Neve paused, “but when I first saw the two of you together, I thought you guys were already a couple.”

“All the way back then?” Neve raised an eyebrow at Bellara in disbelief. “We barely knew each other.”

“I don’t think you need to know that much about a person to know you have a connection with them.” Bellara smiled up at her friend. “Did you know you liked her then?”

Neve took a second before responding, allowing warmth to fill her chest as she remembered the early days of flirtation between her and Rook - each understanding there was more between them, but constantly circling around the issue.

“I wasn’t sure what to make of her at first.” Neve admitted, “All I knew was that Varric called her Rook because ‘she thinks in straight lines’ and that she was ‘an expert in trouble’.” She chuckled warmly as she followed the timeline of the nickname she had given Rook, “Because of her we stopped the ritual, but I couldn’t help but wonder if she was too reckless and if that would get her killed.”

“And then?” Bellara prompted as Neve paused in her thoughts.

“She proved me wrong.” The Detective chuckled, “She’s a quick thinker. She always manages to squeeze through the smallest gaps in the tightest situations. I don’t know how she does it. Everyone else I can figure out, but there’s something magnetic about Rook that I’ve never been able to put my finger on.”

“Do you think it’s the muscles?” Bellara teased, smile growing wider when the suggestion earned a blush from Neve, “She is a Veil Ranger, after all. I’ve never seen someone with such toned shoulders.”

“Bel!” Neve giggled, surprising herself with both the sound that escaped her lips and how freeing it felt.

“What?! You can’t tell me you’ve never thought about what those arms could do.” Bellara’s smirk grew wider as she wiggled her eyebrows. She laughed harder when Neve’s blush intensified.

“I might have.” Neve playfully swatted Bellara’s hands away, “You’ve clearly been looking though. Do I have some competition?” Neve’s expression fell to one of realisation almost as soon as the words left her mouth. Bellara didn’t respond verbally, noticing the shift in her friend.

“How do you feel about Greta?” She asked, trying not to cringe as she broached the sensitive subject.

“If that’s what Rook wants, then I won’t stand in her way. It’s not like I can offer her what Greta can, anyway.” The sadness in Neve’s voice brutally contrasted the humour that had been there mere seconds ago, and Bellara almost regretted bringing the subject up.

“Neve…” She started, sympathy dripping from her voice, “What is it you think Greta can give Rook that you can’t?”

“Commitment.” Neve curled back into herself as she all but choked on the word.

“Why don’t you think you can commit? To Rook, I mean.”

“I don’t know, Bel.” Neve blinked as she looked around the room for something to focus on – anything but the understanding eyes of her friend. “My life isn’t suited to her. How could I ever hope to keep her safe when people like Aelia are free to walk the streets?”

“Neve.” Bellara spoke softly, coaxing her friend back to meet her gaze, “She’s leading us in a fight against gods. You can’t underestimate her. She could survive ten Aelias. Besides, don’t you think that should be her decision? How would you feel if the situation was reversed?”

The tears started to prick painfully at the corners of Neve’s eyes again as Bellara’s words hit her… and she realised her friend was right. She still couldn’t say anything to Rook, not yet, but if they managed to take down Aelia and make it out alive, maybe she could open her heart to Rook - open her heart to love.

“I-“ Neve started to speak but was interrupted as the door to the dining hall flew open.

“Neve! Thank the Maker I found you.” Davrin panted as he entered the room, whether from physical exertion or panic, she couldn’t tell. “Where’s Rook?”

“She’s asleep. Why?”

“Aelia has Yenna. One of her Venatori goonies snuck into Lavendel and kidnapped her.”

Neve’s heart dropped at the news. It would make a good lead – an easy trace to hunt down the Blood Mage once and for all, but it was such a bold move that it must have been a trap – one that she and Rook would both walk willingly into.

“Venhedis.”

One of the first things Neve had noticed about Rook when they first met was the sharpness of her features – high cheekbones, a sharp but expressive brow that accentuated the emotions betrayed by stormy eyes, and the gentle curve of cheeks leading down to a defined jaw. Neve had never considered herself to have a type, though she knew she had a thing for Grey Wardens. Rook wasn’t the first Warden she had found herself lusting after, but the merging of pretty and handsome features on the woman – the way leather clung to the curves of hips and breasts but also emphasised the strength of her body – Neve found herself enraptured with Rook in a way she’d never been with anyone else.

Now, though, all hints of softness were gone from Rook’s features. Her body was rigid, her jaw tensed, her brow was furrowed, and her nostrils flared. Her eyes, though, were where Neve found the biggest change. Where Neve had always associated her eyes with a storm in the middle of an ocean – a beautiful and deep shade of a greyish blue, now the storm that raged in Rook’s eyes appeared to be more similar to that of a hurricane.

Gone was the woman she had fallen in love with, tucked away in a box until Yenna was rescued, and Aelia was dead.

This was the leader Varric had seen masked by charming smiles and rubbish jokes.

Neve hated to wake her at all, let alone with such hard news, but Rook had jumped into action the second Neve had spoken the words. The team had been split in two – Davrin, Harding, Bellara and Emmrich had gone to the Hossberg Wetlands in case more Venatori showed up, and Taash and Lucanis were trailing behind Neve and Rook as they led the charge to find Aelia. Neve had been right about Yenna being taken – Aelia ensured a trail of breadcrumbs had been left that had led them to the Thread Market. Neve had instructed the Shadow Dragons to alert Elek and Rana, who just managed to catch up with them.

“Neve!” Rana panted, clearly having sped through the streets to reach them quickly, Elek stood behind her, attempting to hide his own breathlessness. “Thank the Maker you’re alright. You have a lead on Aelia?”

“Let’s hope you’re as ready for a fight as your friend.” Elek smirked, tilting his head towards Rook. The Warden stood with her arms crossed against her chest, unamused by Elek’s inability to treat the situation with anything less than the seriousness it deserved.

“Aelia knows we’re coming.” Rook’s voice was more monotone than Neve had ever known it to be, completely devoid of emotion. Neve found herself understanding more than she would have liked. Rook had switched off any part of her brain that wasn’t purely focused on the task at hand. Neve wondered if she’d still have acted this way if Yenna hadn’t been taken. “Neve thinks we’re being led to an ancient part of the catacombs that were cut off from the rest of the city.”

“Sanctum Lusacan.” Rana confirmed and Rook laughed bitterly.

“Lusacan. Elgar’nan’s Archdemon. Venatori are never subtle, are they?”

Neve felt nauseous. She’d suspected Aelia’s return had something to do with the Elven Gods, but to have it confirmed was something different entirely. Her mind connected the dots, drawing parallels between the Blood Mage and what they knew about Elgar’nan – the kidnapped Dalish and Dock Town’s missing.

“Venhedis. She’s planning a blood ritual.” If Neve thought that Rook’s jaw couldn’t get tighter, she was sorely mistaken.

“Right.” Rook stared into the middle distance, thoughts running a thousand miles an hour as she thought about their game plan. “We’re splitting into two groups. Neve, Taash and I will be in one and Lucanis, Rana and Elek in the other. Each group will find their own way through the catacombs to find Aelia and rescue everyone she’s taken. Neve, you know the most about Venatori and Aelia, so you’ll lead our team. Lucanis is known as the mage killer for a reason, so he’ll lead the second team.”

Rook’s eyes were steel as they met Neve’s for the briefest of moments, and despite being the most inappropriate moment, she couldn’t help the shiver that ran down her spine. It only served to reinforce her fear about what was to come.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Neve Gallus and Kyra Thorne trespassing in my domain.” Neve was already on edge from hearing Aelia’s voice hum in the background of the people she was puppeting – regular citizens, Cida, captured Shadow Dragons, and worst of all, Hal, but hearing her voice unfiltered and coming from Aelia herself chilled Neve to the core. “I’m sorry I’m not sure who your friends are, but they’re inconsequential.” She smirked, flicking a finger at her side to beckon forward a small group of Venatori. It was only when they came into the light that Neve could see Lucanis, Rana and Elek bound and being shoved onto their knees. “I must thank you for bringing them to me, though. Once I’m finished with you, not only will I be able to add to my collection of Templars and Threads, but to bring the Demon of Vyrantium into the fold. I’ll be unstoppable.” Lucanis struggled against his bindings, eyes flashing purple.

“ Kill!” Spite growled, drawing a smirk from the Blood Mage.

“Now, now, demon, where are your manners? Surely Zara taught you better than that?” The satisfaction in Aelia’s voice as Lucanis, fuelled by spite, growled and snarled from his position on the floor made Neve feel nauseous. Rook’s plan had been sound – split the group to split Aelia’s attention. She had no idea if they all would have been captured if they had stuck together, but the fact remained that Aelia’s full attention was now pointed in their direction.

“I can’t guarantee you or your pet Warden’s survival, Neve Gallus, but I might keep the Qunari around. What a fine specimen she is.” The nausea in Neve’s stomach intensified and her eyes flicked across to Rook beside her, only to find the Grey Warden unphased by Aelia’s threats and seething. If looks could kill, every Venatori in the room would be dead. Neve was so focused on Rook that she barely registered Taash shifting behind her, hands gripping their axes tighter as the weight of being misgendered again sunk into their skin. The choice of words didn’t go unnoticed by Rook either, who finally spoke up after remaining silent throughout Aelia’s drivelling.

“You don’t deserve them.” Her growl was low, but loud enough to be heard by the Blood Mage, whose red eyes flicked predatorily across to Rook.

“It’s not about what I deserve, it’s about what Tevi-“ She began, only to be cut off by Rook’s voice booming through the cavern.

“Oh, will you shut the fuck up!” Neve had seen the anger bubbling up beneath Rook’s skin ever since she’d heard the news about Yenna’s kidnapping, but to see it come up to the surface sent a chill down her spine. As satisfying as it was to see Aelia interrupted, Rook was putting a larger target on her own back. “We get it, you want to take Tevinter back to ‘the glory days’ so you can be a Blood Puppet for Elgar’nan. Anything to stroke your pathetic ego after Neve defeated you the first time.”

“FOOL!” Aelia screamed, sending a bolt of red magic reeling for Rook’s chest, Neve’s heart froze, and time slowed. It happened so quickly that she didn’t have time to counter the spell.

But she didn’t need to. Rook had somehow managed to get under Aelia’s skin – just enough to cause her to miss her shot. Rook didn’t even react and stayed planted to the spot with her arms crossed against her chest and stormy eyes aimed at Aelia.

“Elgar’nan and I will be partners! He has given me Vina Vitalis, and together we will bring back the GLORY DAYS OF TEVIN-“

“Yeah, yeah you mentioned that part already. You’re quite repetitive, aren’t you? Are you doing that on purpose, or has all the Blood Magic gone to your head and made you forgetful?”

“YOU INSOLENT LITTLE-“ Aelia screamed, eyes bulging as swirls of red magic engulfed her body. “Say goodbye to your pet, Neve Gallus.”

The magic engulfed Aelia’s body, mist turning to droplets and then streams of blood that twisted and contorted over her limbs. As if turning on a switch, the Venatori in the cavern drew their weapons and began sprinting towards the group.

Neve always knew that facing Aelia again would be the stuff of nightmares – it had certainly haunted hers for long enough, but the reality of it seemed so much worse than she could have ever imagined. Only Aelia’s face could be seen through the hurricane of blood that surrounded her, and her eyes were set on Rook. The odds were already stacked against them even with all six of them, but now half of their group was bound and unable to fight, Neve was almost certain they’d fail. She was certain Rook would die.

What would that mean for the world? What would that mean for her?

Regret sunk deep into Neve’s bones at the agony that she knew would come with Rook dying. There was no doubt that it would be the worst pain she could ever experience, and keeping Rook at arm’s length had done nothing to dampen it. Now all she knew was that Rook would die without knowing how much she meant to Neve – how much Neve loved her. And somehow that hurt more than losing Rook ever could.

“Got a game plan, Rook?” Taash shouted from behind them, arms swinging to ready their axes against the onslaught of Venatori that moved swiftly towards them.

“Aelia’s attention is on me. I’ll keep her distracted, Neve you focus on weakening her defences. Taash you’re on crowd control.” Rook’s voice remained steady, and her eyes remained focused. She appeared unshakable, almost unbothered as she nocked an arrow, shooting it, electrified, into a gathering crowd of Venatori as if she were doing nothing more important than target practice. Seeing Rook like this was chilling, and Neve wondered how long it would take for the Veil Ranger to work up a sweat – but at least she wouldn’t go down without a fight.

Suddenly the wall of the cavern burst open, revealing one of the red-lyrium powered constructs that were an absolute pain to kill.

“Rook! Does crowd control extend to that thing?” Taash shouted again, blood already spattering across their face from the first few Venatori that reached them. If it wasn’t clear before that they were outnumbered and outmatched, it was now.

“Yep, I’d say it does!” Rook shouted back, one eye closed as she aimed for the gaps in the construct’s armour. If there was one thing Rook was good at that wasn’t leading or kissing, it was archery – and her arrow found its target, embedding deep into the core of the construct and earning its undivided attention. It opened its vents, implanting its feet into the rock beneath it and let out a stream of fire. Rook was quick to respond, rolling away from the stream to where a few cultists had already met Taash’s axes, with just barely enough time to spare, she shoved a few bodies into a pile and ducked behind them, unable to find an opening to shoot another arrow against the stream of fire.

Neve redirected her magic away from Aelia for just long enough to freeze the limbs of the construct, cooling its core enough to stop the fire and keep its vents open. In that split second the creature was forced into idleness, Taash leapt towards it swinging both hands around to smash into its core. The red glow intensified as it tried to power itself back up, but the attack caused its power source to stutter for just a moment longer, giving Taash another chance to sink their axes into its core. The metal of its body groaned as it powered down, and despite its feet being implanted in the stone, its legs gave out, causing it to crash down onto Rook’s makeshift barrier.

Neve moved her attention back to dismantling Aelia’s wards and combating her magic. If there was any hope of taking her down again, she needed all of her focus on the woman. Taking a page of Rook’s book, she compartmentalised her fears and forced herself to hide behind the mask of the stoic detective she was known as in Dock Town. Her mind raced as she thought about her tactics, whether to ensure Minrathous would never be threatened by Aelia again, or whether to make an example out of the woman and empower the people to seek a better future for themselves.

Each decision had its merits – each had its issues. Would she be any better than Aelia herself if she was willing to execute a person? Would her morals even matter if Aelia escaped custody again to cause more harm?

The chill of Neve’s ice magic clashed with the disconcerting warmth of Aelia’s Blood Magic as she continued her barrage against the woman. She had no time to feel relief that Aelia was showing signs of struggling against her – her eyes growing wider before narrowing in an effort to strengthen her resolve against Neve’s magic whilst focusing her attacks on Rook. Neve could tell the plan was working – Rook had angered Aelia to the extent she had become clumsy in an effort to retaliate, so focused on using Rook to hurt the Detective that she had failed to notice her swirling Blood Shield falter. A spark of hope ignited in Neve’s chest as the blood surrounding her sloshed to the ground. Unlike Aelia’s shield, Rook didn’t falter for a second, and almost as soon as the shield’s spell broke an arrow had found itself lodged in the Blood Mage’s throat.

A piercing scream bounced off the walls of the cavern, forcing every living creature to cover their ears against the sound.

Neve’s eyes caught Rook just as the sound tore from Aelia’s throat. She made her way onto the upper levels of the cavern and stood close to their bound friends, who appeared to be shifting as though their binds had been loosened. Though, it didn’t appear that Rook was able to free their friends.

Aelia tore the arrow from her throat, throwing it to the ground like a toddler getting rid of an unwanted toy. The screeching of her scream continued to batter their senses, forcing everyone in the room to bend over where they stood, but it stopped just as suddenly as it had begun. The Venatori in the room remained still as Aelia used another stream of blood to flick across the cavern and fling open the bars of a gate.

Behind it, two cultists led Yenna into the room – scared, but otherwise unhurt. Aelia stood between Rook and the child, forcing Rook to look her in the eye.

“You are permitted to leave alive and take the child with you.” She bit, “But if you do not cease this foolish fight, all of you shall die.”

Neve’s eyes flicked to Rook, feeling her chest constrict her heart as her face finally crumpled. The Warden stood alone amongst blood and bodies, the mask she had been hiding behind since she learned about Yenna’s kidnapping crumpled at her feet and she looked so vulnerable.

Even from a distance across the cavern, Neve saw the storm rage behind her eyes – not because there was any question about the decision she’d have to make, but how she could live with herself after.

After a second of deliberation, Rook’s eyes raised once again to meet the blood red of Aelia’s.

“Any world with you in it isn’t worth living in.” She snarled, reaching behind her back to grab another arrow with lightning speed. Her shot struck true once more, but the arrows didn’t hit Aelia – instead, they implanted themselves into the skulls of the Venatori holding Yenna in place, their bodies adding to the growing pile of black, gold and red that littered the cavern.

“RUN YENNA!” Rook screamed at the child and Aelia had her answer.

The Blood Mage’s hand glowed red as she lifted it elegantly into the air. The magic turned into a mist once more and it flowed from her hand and attached itself like tentacles to the heads of all the frozen Venatori. Her hand grasped into a fist and the mist turned to blood as it was pulled from the bodies of her victims.

Taash no longer needed to focus on crowd control. All the Venatori were killed in an instant.

But Aelia’s power had just grown tenfold.

Rook shot one arrow, then two, both of which were deflected by swirls of blood guided by the hand of the Blood Mage.

Her attacks on Aelia’s defences seemed to be the only thing allowing Rook and Taash to even get near the Blood Mage now, but Neve could feel herself digging deeper and deeper into her mana reserves, her spells getting weaker with every second that passed. Her companions were barely able to make it through the gaps in Aelia’s defences, and Neve realised they were beginning to lose the fight. The glimmer of hope that had been ignited from Rook’s arrow lodging in Aelia’s throat was replaced by the coldness of reality. Soon her magic would falter and Rook and Taash would have no hope of breaking through Aelia’s defences.

Just as Neve felt herself digging into the last dregs of her mana reserves, a purple flash crossed the cavern.

“Rook! Throw me a dagger! Lucanis screamed, Spite’s wings carrying him through the air. Although they had been allowed to keep their armour, Aelia’s goons had stripped them of their weapons. Neve’s breath stuttered as she watched Rook maintain her volley of arrows against Aelia whilst trying to find one of her daggers, but the only one easily accessible was the one attached to her hip – Solas’ dagger.

It would have to do.

Between the beats of shooting arrows, Rook grabbed the dagger from her hip and flung it towards Lucanis, who grabbed it just as he had in their first attempt on Ghilan’nain. He flew the tight space above the heads of their friends and the roof of the cavern, flitting between Aelia’s attempts to grasp or bash him – her renewed magic drawing closer and closer to finding purchase with each swipe. It caused enough of a distraction for Taash to land a hit against the Blood Mage’s leg, causing her to buckle and fall to the floor. Rook’s arrow was next to land a hit, burying itself deep into her shoulder and causing a blood-curdling scream to tear through the cavern. Lucanis was last. The feathers on his armour fluttered as he attached himself to his target, pulling his arm back to give the dagger enough leverage to bite deep into Aelia’s flesh.

“Don’t kill her!” Neve heard herself shout. It sounded almost feeble against the cacophony of the fight, but she felt the need to voice the request regardless. Aelia had caused some of the worst moments in her life, she had planned unspeakable evils in the city she loved, but still, Neve couldn’t find it in herself to let the woman be executed, not if there was a chance for true justice – no matter how small it might be.

Lucanis appeared to hear the plea, stabbing Aelia in the gut as opposed to aiming at a vital organ. Aelia’s scream morphed from one of pain to panic.

“NO! NO! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE YOU FOOL!” Her voice didn’t hold the tone of someone who had just been defeated and had their plans thwarted, instead, it was filled with an unplaceable devastation. The red mist that had been swirling around her body from the Blood Magic dissipated rapidly, fraying at the edges and wavering as though it had been cut off from its source.

Aelia lifted her arm as she watched her magic dissipate, flexing her fingers as though she were trying to conjure the spell again – any spell.

None came.

Aelia screamed again.

“Rana. She’s all yours!” Neve called as the Templar stood from where she had finally slipped free of her bindings. “Make sure Dock Town sees you take her.”

Rana nodded, relief flooding her features as she moved to lift Aelia from the floor, wrangling her wrists behind her back to keep her restrained. Aelia offered no opposition, instead her head hung low as she screamed in despair.

“I knew she was dramatic, but I didn’t think she’d cry so much at losing.” Rook half-chuckled, still panting from the effort of trying to take down the Blood Mage.

“I can’t detect her magic.” Rana muttered back, eyebrows furrowing as her eyes darted across the Blood Mage’s body, before landing on the dagger in Lucanis’ hand. “That dagger… What’s it made of?”

“Pure Lyrium. Why?” Rook responded, looking equally as confused.

“Lyrium… Maker. You’ve made her tranquil.” Rana gasped.

“You mean she can’t cast magic now?”

“I can’t discuss the process the Templars use, but yes. The Lyrium in the dagger would have cut off Aelia’s access to the Fade.” Rana’s eyes narrowed at Aelia, taking her time to properly assess the threat the mage posed. Her conclusion was none – not only was Aelia cut off from her magic, but Taash and Rook had done enough damage to ensure she wouldn’t be able to wield a weapon anytime soon. The only thing that hadn’t been damaged was her mind – and Aelia would have to live with the knowledge she’d have to live behind bars with no chance of escape for the rest of her days.

Against all odds, the day had been saved, Aelia was captured and everyone had survived. Still, Neve couldn’t help but feel her mind racing as the group made their way back to the Eluvian, tiny Warden sitting on the shoulders of their larger Warden, red-knuckled hands tangled in chestnut hair. The woman whose jaw had seemed to be set in steel and whose gaze could have set fire with a single look just hours ago had now softened to her usual, unshakeable self.

More than anything, Neve felt confused.

For the longest time, Neve had used the threat Aelia posed as the barrier that had prevented want from turning to action. But now Aelia was captured and declawed, Neve found the last of her excuses melting away. Her heart had been through so much in such a short amount of time, and rather than feeling happiness or relief, Neve felt exhausted.

Still, she knew what she wanted now. Even if part of her still struggled to accept her feelings, Neve wanted Rook. But after such an emotional day, there was no way Neve could open herself up fully without crumbling. Despite knowing she wanted Rook more than anything, she needed time to strengthen herself before she gave in to Rook entirely.

Or before Rook was taken from her.

Neve’s jaw tightened as they approached the Eluvian, only to see Greta talking with Tarquin. The Warden’s brown eyes seemed to sparkle when they caught sight of Rook.

“Kyra! You made it back!” She smiled, approaching the group without acknowledging anyone but her fellow Warden. “And you rescued our little trainee.”

“She rescued herself, really.” Rook laughed, lifting Yenna from her shoulders and placing her on the floor. “Didn’t you, kid.”

“You did the shooting, I did the running. I think that makes us a good team.” Yenna smiled sweetly up at her elder Wardens, giggling when Greta ruffled a hand through her red curls. Neve’s jaw grew tighter. Watching Rook and Greta bonding over the child made them look like a little family and it hurt more than she cared to admit.

“What are you here for, anyway? I thought you’d be dealing with the Venatori in the Wetlands?” Rook asked after a moment.

“There aren’t any Venatori in the Wetlands. Not anymore at least. We did track down the Gloom Howler, though.”

“No. Really?” Rook asked in an emotion that appeared to be a mix of shock, disbelief and anticipation. Her eyes snapped up to meet Greta’s with determined intensity. “Where’s Davrin?”

“He’s back at Lavendel preparing a bunch of Evka’s best. We traced the Gloom Howler to the Cauldron with a lead Davrin gave us, now we know she’s in the Deep Roads.”

If it was possible, Neve’s jaw grew tighter still. That lead was hers. She wasn’t usually precious about who took credit for her discoveries as long as they were chased, but Neve found herself wanting Rook to know it was her. She wanted the credit. She wanted Rook’s eyes to look at her in the same determined way she was looking at Greta.

“Right.” Rook hummed, eyes darting to the floor as her brow furrowed and her lips pursed before they snapped back to her companions. “Looks like you’ll be celebrating Aelia without me tonight.”

“Rook, No.” Neve snapped without thinking, though her voice held no harshness, only concern. “You’re exhausted, you need to rest before you go chasing a monster.”

Rook’s brow furrowed further at the challenge.

“She’s got Archdemon Blood, Kyra. She’s going to blight the Griffons. We have to go today.” Greta turned to her and Neve thought she might snap. Rook was a Grey Warden, she was trained to fight monsters – her body was made for it, but could Rook survive such a battle after already spending the day fighting the most powerful Blood Mage in Thedas?

 “This can’t wait, Neve. I need to be there.” Rook sighed, softening her gaze apologetically at the Detective.

“Then let me come with you. You’ll need a healer, and I can track her through the Deep Roads.”

“Neve, you’re exhausted.” Ocean eyes pleaded with earthy brown. “You used all your mana fighting Aelia.”

Anger flared in Neve’s chest at Rook’s hypocrisy. “So, it’s okay for you to throw yourself into danger when you’re exhausted, but not me. Why? Because you think I can’t handle myself without magic?”

“What?” Rook snapped defensively, “No. I’ve seen you fight, Neve. But we’re going into the Deep Roads to track down a monster who can spread Blight like fire in a dry field. It’s too dangerous.”

“Don’t worry, Neve.” Greta smirked at seeing the two women at odds, “I’ll take care of Kyra.”

Neve hoped the Gloom Howler would take care of Greta.

“They need me, Neve.” Rook pleaded, softening her gaze again.

‘But what if I need you?’ Neve thought, fighting with herself to say it, but stayed silent.

“Are you ready to go, Kyra?” Greta asked impatiently.

Kiss her, Neve. Neve didn’t move.

Rook’s eyes searched Neve’s, deeply and frantically, begging for the Detective to say what she was thinking. The answer might not change her decision, but it would certainly make it harder.

Venhedis, Neve. Kiss her. The part of her that had battled against her feelings for so long was now screaming at her to move, to speak, to do anything to tell Rook how she felt. What if she doesn’t make it back?

Neve’s silence spoke louder than words could.

“Yeah, alright.” Rook sighed, defeated, and the last thing Neve saw was Greta’s eyes shining in victory over Rook’s shoulder as they both turned towards the Eluvian.

Neve didn’t expect Rook to be home that evening, nor the following morning, but night after night passed with Rook, Davrin and Assan absent from their seats in the dining hall. Neve tried to push down the anxiety that bubbled in her chest, borne from both the worry that Rook was safe and that Greta hadn’t dug her claws in. She buried herself in work while Rook was away, balancing tracking the Gods with setting up a detective agency with Rana. She tried to stop herself from waiting, from staring at the clock in the Lighthouse or watching the shadows lengthen and lamps illuminate the streets in Dock Town. She found herself holding her breath in anticipation each time she came back from trips out just in case Rook had returned, but a week passed, and the Lighthouse felt just as empty without Rook as it had on the first day.

Neve had asked Emmrich and Taash to keep an ear out in case Rook returned and went straight to her room, but the request was rendered obsolete when Rook and Davrin returned with a horde of Grey Wardens at their backs, songs of victory echoing off the walls and being absorbed by the Fade.

Despite being distracted from her work by the noise, a smile pulled at the corners of Neve’s cheeks, and she quickly pushed herself up from her desk to meet the crowd. She caught sight of Rook immediately, close to the front of the crowd and standing between Davrin and Greta, all of whom were already drunk, but otherwise uninjured.

“Nice holiday?” Neve smirked as Rook met her eyes, but her heart squeezed when a bright smile spread across Rook’s face at the sight of the Detective.

“Neve!” She shouted, breaking from the crowd to throw her arms around the Mage and pull her into a warm hug. Neve had expected her to smell like the sickly-sweet decay of Blight and Darkspawn, but instead the scent of her favourite soap wafted from her clothes and her breath was tinged with mellowed ale.

“You smell surprisingly nice” Neve hummed against her shoulder, allowing the warmth of the other woman to sink into her skin. Now she had accepted her feelings for Rook there was no fear that tried to tug her away from the embrace.

“Greta wanted to thank us for rescuing the Griffons. She sorted baths for us when we got back to camp.” Rook’s voice only slurred slightly through her words, suggesting she was merrier from the victory than the alcohol.

Neve felt claws of jealousy plant in her stomach, and she raised her face from Rook’s shoulder to catch sight of the other Wardens. Davrin’s armour was equally as spotless as Rook’s, but Neve still couldn’t help but wonder whether there had been an ulterior motive behind the reward. Lavendel wasn’t exactly known for its privacy.

Her suspicions only heightened as she caught Greta’s eye; possessiveness dripping from her stare as Neve tightened her grip on Rook’s torso. A smirk played on her lips as she leant into the feeling, and she relaxed further into Rook’s embrace. She was certain this was the longest hug she’d ever had, but with Rook in her arms, she found she didn’t mind too much, and Greta was all too easily forgotten. “Well, I can’t wait to hear all about your tales of victory.”

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll hear all about it.” Davrin smirked, approaching the two. Neve took it as her opportunity to step away from the hug, missing the warmth of the Veil Ranger the moment their bodies parted. Like Rook, his speech slurred just enough to tell he’d been drinking, but not enough to inebriate him as much as the other Wardens. “Rook here landed the killing blow.” His hand landed firmly on Rook’s shoulder, and she stumbled forward to regain her balance. A cacophony of drunken cheers rang out from behind them.

“As fun as this reunion has been, we need to regroup and come up with a plan to clear out the rest of the Blight.” Greta’s voice appeared from over Rook’s other shoulder and Neve bit her tongue to stop herself from asking who died and put her in charge. To her dismay, Rook perked up at the topic and ocean eyes darted away from Neve over to Greta. The other Warden brightened with the attention. “I’m sure you can hear about Rook’s victory later, Neve. Rook’s the hero of the hour, she’s needed for strategizing right now.” Neve narrowed her eyes in response. There were too many people around for Greta to lie about regrouping to come up with next steps, but something about the way she said the words put her on edge.

“Are you sure now’s the best time when most of your team are too drunk to hold a sword?” She quipped back.

“We’ve all been in worse states than this when facing down Darkspawn before.” Rook chuckled back, clearly not catching the growing tension between the two women. “It’s practically a rite of passage. But all we’re doing is talking about a Blight explosion. No danger there.”

“Never say never.” The mage hid her suspicions behind a smirk aimed at Rook and a side glance at Greta. Danger came in many forms and the hairs on the back of Neve’s neck prickled with the predatorial look Greta kept planted on Rook.

Hours passed after Neve had returned to her desk. The Grey Wardens had regrouped in the dining hall where cheers of victory had dulled to quiet contemplation, only to grow louder again over the hours.

Neve was beginning to consider moving to work in the library when a knock sounded at her door.

“Hey, Neve.” Taash’s smile brightened the room as the door opened to reveal their face.

“Taash. What can I do for you?” Neve tried to mirror the Lord of Fortune’s expression, but the smile couldn’t reach her eyes.

“The whole thing is the Wardens turned into a party sort of thing. You wanna join? Everyone else is going?”

Neve sighed as her eyes dragged across the papers strewn over her desk. “I don’t know. I’ve got a lot to get through.”

“Rook’s there.” Their smile grew suggestive as they wiggled their eyebrows at her. “She keeps looking up at the door like a lost puppy waiting for you to enter.”

Neve raised her eyes from her desk again to meet the Qunari’s. Their words felt like the last drop in a too-full cup and her emotions spilled over the edges. Her work could wait.

The noise Neve had been hearing from her desk over the last few hours didn’t do justice to the chaos inside the dining hall. The Wardens who returned from the journey into the Deep Roads had somehow multiplied and the room was filled with the smell of ale, leather and the sounds of their chatter and cheers. Despite the chaos, Neve spotted Rook through the crowds the moment she stepped through the door.

It was almost as if the entire room gravitated towards her. She had taken the time to dress down from her armour into her usual black leathers that hugged the curves of her hips and chest as much as they flexed around the curves of her trained arms. It was clear the alcohol was affecting her more now. Even from across the room, Neve could see Rook’s blush across her skin from the alcohol coursing through her blood and warming her skin. Her eyes travelled along its trail, down from the Warden’s cheeks, down her throat, across her sternum and beneath the drip of her collar.

Rook sat on the edge of a table; legs propped up by a bench, and appeared to be in the middle of a story that had a circle of captive Wardens on the edge of their seats. Still, she paused when Neve entered, taking a moment for their gazes to meet across the crowded room. Rook may have been drunk, but her gaze looked more sober than she had ever seen before. Taash had been right about Rook keeping an eye on the door, but her gaze resembled more of a predator on a hunt than a lost puppy look, and she was making it obvious that Neve was her prey. The sight of want dripping from her eyes caused a shiver to run down Neve’s spine and the sounds and smells of the room melted away until all Neve could see was Rook’s hungry eyes focused on her.

Neve wondered if Rook would have finished her story there and then to cross the room if Greta hadn’t nudged her to continue.

But then, that would require Rook to think Neve wanted her back, and to her annoyance she had done a fantastic job of pushing Rook away. The Warden was far too respectful of Neve to push her boundaries - she’d have to make the first move.

“Neve!” Bellara called from their usual spot in the corner of the room. She waved excitedly as she moved her feet off a chair. “I saved you a spot. Oh, and I got you a drink!” She smiled as she pointed at a bottle of wine on the table in front of her.

“How did you know I’d come?”

Bellara flashed her a knowing smirk in response. It was then Neve realised the seat the Elf had saved had a perfect view of a certain Grey Warden. Neve gave a low chuckle in response, taking the seat and an offered goblet. Her eyes washed over the room to fully take in her surroundings. A few of the visiting warriors had taken it upon themselves to create some entertainment and were playing songs on instruments in the far corner of the room. Surrounding them were other Wardens attempting to sing along but sounding more like a herd of mooing druffalo than a chantry choir. Other tables had been moved into the dining hall, where Wardens sat playing card games with meagre betting pools. Their companions were dotted about the room, Taash and Harding sticking out like a sore thumb by being all over each other on the staircase. Neve relaxed into her seat and took a long sip of her wine. Among the noise, she felt more at home than she had in months. Moving to catch another glance at Rook, another set of eyes stuck out. Green and piercing like the needles of a pine tree. Chestnut hair, similar to Rook’s, was curled into a tight bun on the back of their head and their face was a perfect mixture of sharp angles and soft curves. Neve would have returned the attention if her heart wasn’t already spoken for, but tonight her eyes were set on one woman, and one woman alone.

As the night progressed, Neve allowed herself to indulge. Her lips had turned a deeper shade of red from sipping her wine and her cheeks were flushed with the warmth of the alcohol in her blood. She found herself thumbing over a hand of cards at a table with Rook, Greta, their companions, and the green-eyed Warden who had introduced themselves as Arden who had taken it upon themselves to flirt outrageously with Neve. Rook’s eyes still held the same intensity as earlier in the evening, but the ‘rip your clothes off’ look had been replaced by a ‘rip your throat out’ look and was now aimed at the new face in their circle. Neve would have caught the change if she were sober, but the alcohol in her veins clouded her thoughts to notice either Arden’s flirting or Rook’s mood. Arden, too, didn’t appear to catch on to the effect their actions were having. Only Greta had caught on to the tension Rook held in her body, and she was staring daggers at Neve in return.

Neve was the second to last at the table to place her cards down, all too confident she held the winning hand. It felt like a power trip as Greta huffed at another loss. Rook betrayed no emotion but couldn’t meet her eyes. The rest of the table gave a mixture of groans and laughs as each of them realised their hand had been beaten again. Arden, being the last person to play their hand, flashed Neve a smirk.

“I win.” Their eyes danced over her face as they revealed their cards. “How about you and I make a separate bet for the next round?”

Neve’s brow furrowed in response, unsure what they were referring to, but catching Rook squirm at the question. “What do you have in mind?” She responded, voice low and husky from the wine. Her tongue darted out to taste the wine that had soaked into her lips. Usually, the action would catch the attention of ocean eyes, but only Arden followed the movement, a smirk growing as they bit their lip.

“If I win the next hand, you have to go on a date with me.”

Months ago the line might have worked on her, but with the woman she was in love with sitting across the table and looking as though Arden had just punched her in the gut, Neve’s stomach only dropped.

Rook’s eyes held a storm within them as she flicked between Neve and Arden. “You know what, fuck this. I’m going to bed.”

The table seemed to gasp collectively as Rook pushed herself from the bench and stormed out the door. They had never seen her act like this before.

“Rook!” Neve and Greta called after the woman at the same time. Rook didn’t turn back. Neve moved to stand when Greta bit at her.

“Don’t you think you’ve done enough, Neve? I’ll go check on her.”

Neve’s mouth fell open and her brow furrowed in confusion as she looked over to Bellara for comfort. The elf placed a gentle hand over her own. “It wasn’t fair of Greta to blame you like that. It wasn’t your fault.”

“Is that a no to the date?” Arden tried to calm the tension with a laugh.

“I think you’ve done enough, Arden.” Davrin huffed. “Way to ruin the vibe.”

“Oh, are you and Rook…” Arden’s eyes grew wide as the realisation hit them.

“No.” Neve’s heart sank as she looked over at Rook’s empty space at the table. “No, we’re not.” The alcohol only served to make the emptiness of her heart feel like a cavern. Fuck Greta, she had to go and make sure Rook was okay. She needed to tell her how she felt.

“Then what’s the harm?” Arden asked innocently as Neve got up from the table and moved towards the door.

“Shut the fuck up, Arden.” Taash’s growl faded into the drunken din of the room. The cold air hit Neve immediately as she stepped outside, and she wobbled slightly on unsteady feet. It was so rare she let herself get this drunk, clearly for good reason if she had been completely oblivious to how Rook was feeling. The worst part was she understood it. Neve had spent months dancing around her feelings for Rook – playing a game of cat and mouse with one almost kiss, one actual kiss and copious amounts of flirting. Now Rook, who was still under the impression Neve only wanted to be friends, had to sit and watch someone else flirt with her. Worse still was that Neve wasn’t sure how much she had played into it. She was flirty by nature, and she found herself panicking that her intentions had been misread.

She only wanted Rook.

Taking a steadying breath, Neve pinched her eyes shut, trying to think about where Rook would have run off to with Greta at her heels. There was no sign of the women in the courtyard and none in the library or the music room. Neve peeked into the Eluvian room but still saw no trace. If they had gone through the portal there was little chance she’d be able to track them in this state anyway. Neve slowly ascended the stairs to Rook’s room, feeling as though barging in might be an invasion of Rook’s privacy, but the need to confess her feelings outweighed any sense of politeness.

She held her breath as she tried to listen for any voices or movement beyond the door – nothing. Creaking the door open revealed the same.

Neve grew more confused, furrowing her brow and chewing on her lip as she tried to rack her mind for where Rook could have gone. Finally, it came to her. Exiting into the courtyard once more she rushed up the stairs to the balcony, not necessarily thinking Rook was there, but knowing at least she’d have a good view of the rest of the buildings. Neve rushed between the statues, leaning on the cold stone as she scanned the buildings below – still nothing. A shaky, defeated sigh left her lips and her shoulders sank as she accepted that Rook had run off through the Eluvian. She’d have to wait until she returned to speak to her, but knowing she was alone with Greta only served to worry her more.

She began to descend the stairs on Bellara’s side of the Lighthouse when a flash of movement caught her eye in the distance. Her heart caught in her throat as she realised what she was seeing.

Rook and Greta were on the ledge outside the dining hall, looking out over the Fade. But instead of taking in the views, Rook had Greta pinned up against the wall, lips on her throat and a hand buried between her legs. Greta was returning the affection with equal fervour, grasping onto handfuls of the Warden’s hair and hooking her leg around her hip to give Rook a better angle to fuck her.

A silent sob tore itself from Neve’s throat.

It was too late. She was too late.

She’d kept her feelings hidden for so long that she had pushed the woman she loved right into the arms of her ex.

The emptiness inside her chest was gaping; a wound reopened and bleeding freely. She wanted to interrupt them - to scream at Greta for stealing her woman and scream at Rook for letting herself be stolen. The part of her that hoped Rook would wait for her to be ready screamed as it died, taking any hope for a future beyond the elven gods with it.

Neve found herself alone once again. Staring at the remains of a relationship killed too soon, just as she had when Aelia had killed Brom all those years ago.

Only Rook wasn’t Brom. Rook was the love of her life. Part of her had thought Rook was her soulmate, if such things existed.

She’d never love another person like she loved Rook.

But at least she could fill the hole in her chest – at least temporarily.

Her eyes snapped shut again as she tried to wash the sight of Rook fucking Greta from her mind. Before she knew it, her feet carried her back into the dining hall, back to their table and right up to Arden. Green eyes flashed at her with confusion and a flash of fear as she grabbed them by the collar, pulling them to their feet and back through the door.

“Neve?” Bellara called from behind her, but she didn’t bother to turn around. She was drunk and hurting and she’d deal with the consequences of her actions in the morning.

As they reached the door to her office, Neve felt Arden’s body push against her own. One hand wandered her body as the other moved to brush her hair away from her neck, quickly followed by the warmth of their lips against her pulse point. She gasped as she leaned back into them, letting them take control.

Take control they did.

Arden took Neve into their arms and pushed her up against the wall beside her front door, not bothering to wait until they were inside..

Just like Rook would.

Their lips trailed hot kisses from her throat down to her breast, palming one with a strong hand while the other held her in place by her hip.

Just like Rook would.

Teeth grazed across her wine-heated skin and Neve hissed at the sensation. She felt Arden smirk against her at the reaction.

Just like Rook would.

Neve’s hands moved of their own accord, ignoring all the ways in which Arden’s body was different to Rook’s and moving straight to undo their chestnut locks from their bun. Their hair flowed freely over their shoulders and Neve took the opportunity to bury her hands in it.

It didn’t smell like Rook’s.

Arden moved back up to capture Neve’s lips, briefly opening their eyes to smirk at her.

Their eyes weren’t blue like Rook’s.

Neve closed her eyes again, tightening her grip on their hair and pulled them closer. They fumbled with the buttons on her trousers, pushing them down just enough to plunge inside her.

“Rook!” Neve groaned, catching herself immediately as the word escaped her lips.

“What was that?” Arden asked, pulling their lips away from her throat. “Did you just say Rook or fuck?”

Neve worried her lip as she considered whether to lie, but she was beginning to sober up enough to question her decision.

“I think we should stop.” She sighed, leaning her head back against the cold stone of the wall and releasing her grip on them. She tried not to watch as the confidence left their eyes.

“Are you sure? I don’t mind if you want to think of Rook.” They removed themselves from her as requested and stepped back to give her space.

“ I do.” Neve struggled against the sting of tears in her eyes. This night had not gone at all how she had imagined.

“You really like her, huh?” Their voice was soft – almost comforting as they helped her put herself back together.

Neve breathed as a tear escaped from its confines. “I love her.”

Arden gave her a sympathetic smile as they reached up to wipe the tear from her cheek. “Then what’s stopping you?”

Neve couldn’t speak the words out loud. The more she sobered up the harder her reality was to process. Even with Arden between her thighs, she had felt loneliness clawing at her heart. “She’s with Greta.”

Arden chuckled warmly at her, “Greta? Please. Greta’s got nothing on you.”

“That’s sweet.” Neve choked out, fighting as more tears threatened to fall.

“No, it’s true. If Rook knew she had a shot at you, she’d never look at Greta again.”

Neve caught her lip between her teeth, considering Arden’s words in her mind. Could they be right? If she had found Rook and Greta straight away rather than searching the entirety of the Lighthouse for them, would Neve have been the one Rook had pinned against the wall?

Arden smiled again, moving out of Neve’s space further. “It was nice meeting you, Neve.”

“You too.” Neve replied, realising only too late it was a lie. If Arden hadn’t been there tonight, maybe Neve would be in Rook’s bed right now?

Before getting too bogged down in the what-ifs, she found herself moving again towards the one person she could trust to pick up the pieces of her broken heart.

She crumpled to the floor the moment she stepped into Bellara’s workshop, and the elf’s arms were around her before she hit the floor.

Chapter Text

Regrets.

They spun round and round and round in Rook’s head, paralysing her to the spot Solas should have been standing in.

It had taken Rook twenty-eight years and the end of the world to find a home – to find a family, and Solas had ripped it from her in mere seconds.

Her God. Her enemy.

And where were the others? What must they have felt when she had been dragged into the Fade by the Elven God of Lies? What must they have felt when they watched Lace die? When Lucanis crashed to the floor? When Bellara was stolen from them?

A half-groan-half-sob escaped Rook’s lips as she gripped her side, still bleeding from the blighted blades that had sunk into her flesh mid-battle. Nothing more than grazes. She’d survive. She had to. She had to get back to her team. No matter the cost.

But as she stood, pain tore through her system – but not from her wounds.

All you did was bring them pain.

Her own voice echoed in her head. It bounced off the walls of her skull and irradiated her brain. Rook collapsed to the hard, colourless ground and fell into a fraught unconsciousness, forced to relive the regrets that kept her locked away.

“Shit, Varric we should have been here sooner,” Rook stressed as demons began screaming through the streets of Minrathous, missing some civilians by a hair’s width and crashing straight into others, killing them instantly. Solas’ ritual had only just begun, and it was already a blood bath.

“It couldn’t be helped, Kid. We need to focus on stopping things from getting worse.” Varric said with enough calm in his voice that Rook almost felt the need to shake him.

“We don’t even know where Solas is without Neve.”

“We’ll find her, Rook. We’ll find Solas, too.”

Rook took a breath as her eyes scanned the carnage around them. Bodies were strewn across the streets; anything resembling a market stall had been crushed by demon hoards. She had dealt with her fair share of deadly situations before, but this was something new entirely. Sometimes she missed the monotony of hunting Darkspawn.

A mop of curly blonde hair and old, wrinkled skin caught her eyes amongst the dead. No one she knew, but the face reminded her of someone. Flashes of kind green eyes shining in the candlelight of the kitchen. Wrinkled hands, adorned with a single, skinny wedding band reaching out to offer a fresh slice of warm bread and jam. The woman had been a servant in her household, but she had been the closest thing to family the little elf had ever known.

Sylvie.

Rook knelt beside the woman who brought back so many memories. It wasn’t her; Sylvie had died at the hands of her adopted father years ago. Kyra had just grown into adulthood and the woman was aging and frail. It had taken a single slap from the noble for the old woman to lose her balance and crack her head open on the very table she’d use to cut the child slices of fresh bread. Kyra didn’t even have a chance to realise what was happening before the blood started pooling on the floor. Sylvie had no family to organise a funeral, and none of Kyra’s family cared enough to organise one themselves – no one apart from her. She left to join the Grey Wardens the moment she placed flowers on the woman’s grave. There was no other future she could envision for herself beyond the death promised by the Order.

Blue eyes, not unlike her own, stared lifelessly up into the night sky. They weren’t the old woman’s, but they were close enough to force her to recall the pain - to force her to remember the crack of her skull against the table – to force her to remember how useless she felt in that moment.

The regret had eaten her alive for years.

With all the care in the world that she certainly didn’t have time to give, Rook leaned down to close the woman’s eyes.

“You always were a sentimental one, Rook.” Varric’s voice echoed through her head as the memory fizzled from existence.

“Rook? Like the chess piece?” Neve had quipped, acknowledging her existence for the first time and dragging her eyes across Rook’s body, piecing together titbits of information to form an opinion of the Grey Warden. Rook had hoped she was off to a good start. She knew from experience that having Varric’s good opinion carried a lot of weight. The slight smirk on the edge of Neve’s lips suggested the mage thought the same.

“Strongest piece on the board. But she tends to think in straight lines. Figured we could use an expert in Trouble.”

Neve’s eyes flickered over to her again at the comment. Even in the darkness of the rubble in the night, she could see the warmth and depth of the brown. From what Rook had heard, Neve Gallus had a way of reading people – of knowing people and despite her armour, she felt defenceless.

“Heard about your issues with the Venatori.” Rook flashed her a disarming smirk and watched eagerly as Neve’s eyes tracked across her face, landing on the dimples of her cheeks. If Neve was going to catch her off guard, it was only fair that Rook did the same. “We came prepared for a rescue. Seems we weren’t needed.”

“A rescue?” Neve retorted with an amused tone. “You’re sweet.”

Shit. Rook felt the blush forming on her cheeks and hoped the detective didn’t notice her change in complexion.

“But I wouldn’t go as far to say you weren’t needed. Muscle always comes in handy.” Rook’s blush deepened as Neve’s eyes dragged more purposefully across her body, paying closer attention to trained arms, broad shoulders and calloused fingers. Rook wondered how much the detective had pieced together about her already – whether the brown eyes that flicked over her body masked something more than just curiosity and whether her blue eyes could mirror the same interest.

But now was hardly the time to think about such things.

They were here to stop Solas, banish the demons, and save the world. Anything more would have to wait until later, when drinks were flowing and Rook had a night to celebrate before heading back off to Weisshaupt.

Only the night would never come as she had hoped.

“He’s my friend, Rook. I have to try to get through to him. And if she won’t listen to me, he’ll listen to Bianca.” Varric smirked as he raised the infamous crossbow into the air. Rook loved Varric dearly. In the year and a bit they had been travelling together, he had become more than just a mentor to her – he was a shoulder to cry on, a listening ear when she needed to talk, a voice of reason, a friend, and in a way, a father figure. But Varric was as he always was – an author, a writer, a daydreamer, and an optimist who truly believed an Elven God would bow to the whims of a friend, just because he asked nicely – or that a crossbow could pose a threat to someone wielding the essence of the Fade itself.

“Varric, I really don’t know about this. Going up against Solas is only going to end in one way.” Rook pleaded, begging her friend to think of another way. Anything that meant they might all survive.

“Rook.” Varric smiled at her in that annoyingly comforting way that made him seem as though he had all the answers. “This is something I have to do. If anything goes wrong, you’ll think of something. You always do.”

Rook sighed, basking in the moment of reprieve provided by Harding and Neve keeping the demons off their basks while they spoke. She knew Varric well enough to know there was no talking him out of his decision. Whether it worked or not, they’d all be made to face to consequences. “That’s a shit load of pressure, old man.” She smirked, shoving a playful hand against his shoulder.

“Good thing I’ve got you as my second in command, then.” He laughed back at her, tension leaving his shoulders as Rook’s silent support. “You’ve got this, Rook. I believe in you.”

“Well, I’d rather not believe in an ancient Elven God, but there we are.” Rook’s grip tightened on her bow as she prepared to jump back into the fray to keep the demons off Varric. “I’ve got your back, Varric. Do us proud.”

It didn’t take long to realise they were severely outnumbered, and all three women preferring ranged combat wasn’t doing them any favours. Rook found herself abandoning her bow in favour of her sword and dagger, getting much closer to demonic claws than she’d like and catching a few slashes here and there. She was sure one of them would add to the Darkspawn scar that trailed across her eye if she wasn’t careful, but that was better than letting anything get too close to Harding or Neve.

But it didn’t work. By the time one demon had been killed, two more had already torn from the fade to replace them. At this rate, they’d be overrun, Varric would go unprotected, and Solas would succeed.

“This isn’t working!” Rook shouted, pulling her sword from the corpse of another demon and grabbing her bow to signal a retreat further into the ruins. Her hair clung to the sweat on her brow as her head jerked to look around for a better option – anything better than exhausting themselves with an endless fight. “We need a better plan!”

“Do you want me to take the shot?” Harding shouted back over the growing snarls of the demons. The way Rook had to strain her ears to hear the Scout over the commotion served as a constant reminder of how dire the situation was.

“It won’t work!” Neve responded in Rook’s stead, raising her voice to be heard over the noise. “Solas is too powerful. Nothing we can do will be strong enough to break through the magic!”

“So, we need to disrupt the ritual,” Rook confirmed, pausing her attacks for another moment to scan her eyes across the ritual area.

“But how?” Harding shouted back, her voice growing raspy from the added stress.

“There! Scaffolding!” Rook pointed, “If we knock it down, we take the stature down with it. The whole thing will come down on Solas!”

“It could work.” Neve mused, creating a barrier of ice between the three women and the growing horde of demons to grant some reprieve whilst they thought. “But it won’t be without Risk. A lot of it. Interrupting a ritual of this scale will have consequences.”

“And what about the demons? Varric needs us to hold them off!” Harding added.

Rook tightened her jaw and narrowed her gaze, flicking her eyes across the ritual site once more for another option – anything. But nothing else could be done.

“It’s our only option. You two stay here to deal with the demons, I’ll bring down the statue.” Determination glazed over Rook’s eyes. The task would almost certainly result in her death, but it wouldn’t be the first time a Grey Warden sacrificed themselves to save the world.

Neve’s eyes widened at the suggestion, daring to say the quiet part out loud. “Rook, no!” Her tone held a sharpness that Rook hadn’t expected. “Stepping into all that raw magic is suicide.”

“The storm could tear you apart!” Harding nodded in agreement.

“Either of you got a better idea? I’m all ears.” Despite it all, Rook smirked back at the two women, more than content with her fate. AT least she’d be going out with a bang instead of slinking off to the Deep Roads.

Neve and Harding glanced at each other again, both carefully processing the idea of Rook’s sacrifice. Harding was the first to agree with Rook’s plan.

“Fine. But you’ll need backup. I’m going with you.” Her voice was resolute, although running into the raw magic would likely leave the Scout just as dead of Rook.

“I’m a Mage.” Neve interrupted, “I can keep you safe from the magic while you take down the statue.”

Harding nodded in agreement. “Either way, you need backup, and someone needs to stay back and deal with the demons.”

The choice was obvious. As much as she’d prefer this death over the Deep Roads, the longer Rook stayed alive, the more good she could do for the world. Besides, this many demons would require a large clean-up effort. Though she already regretted the idea of taking Neve into such a dangerous situation.

“Alright, Neve. You’re with me. You alright with the demon’s Harding?”

“I’ve got this, Rook. You just stop Solas and try to stay alive while you’re at it.”

“No promises,” Rook smirked before she led Neve deeper into the storm.

The falling statues caused chaos. Worse than chaos.

The bridge they walked on began to crumble and splinter at their very feet as they ran back towards Varric and Harding. Rook tried to keep in line with Neve at every step to ensure they’d both make it out, but a falling chunk of stone crashed into wood between them, forcing them apart and dragging Neve down into a pit of debris.

“NEVE!” Rook shouted as Teal disappeared into a cloud of dust and smoke. Just as she began to reach down in an attempt to find the mage, Varric’s cry of pain echoed through the storm. “VARRIC!” She shouted again, panicking as her friend tumbled downstairs. Her eyes flashed between Varric’s body and the cloud of dust Neve had disappeared into – a hand clawed out against the splintered wood of the bridge, and Rook grabbed and pulled before she had a chance to think. The moment she felt Neve’s weight hoisted back onto solid(ish) ground, Rook turned and began the run back to Varric.

“Varric… Varric!” Her voice was growing hoarse from the shouting and straining against the storm of magic surrounding them. Varric’s eyes were already hooded by the time she reached him; his body writhed weakly from the pain of the dagger stuck in his chest. She couldn’t take the knife out, or he’d bleed out there and then, but leaving it in wasn’t an option either. She needed… She needed…

“Harding!” She cried, looking through the clouds of dust and ash that were settling from the fallen statues. “Neve?!”

Someone. Anyone.

Solas looked down on her as she knelt over Varric’s weakening body. The veil tore open behind him to reveal two huge, silhouetted figures. No one heard her cries. Her friends were nowhere to be seen. Rook grasped at the small potion bag on her belt, grabbing one of the bottles only to feel broken glass slice into her hand.

“No…” She gasped, “No, no, no.” Rook didn’t have time to think of an alternative solution before a blast of magic sent her flying into a pillar, and the world went dark once more as the memory fizzled from existence.

“Stop focusing on your failures, Rook. You stopped Solas. Neve was fine.” Varric’s voice echoed through the darkness again.

“Varric? What’s going on?” No answer came.

Rook breathed a sigh of relief as the Caretaker docked at the Crossroads. The journey back had been relatively quiet, considering the party now contained two grey Wardens, but any sort of small talk or natural camaraderie that might have formed had been quelled by both the events in the Anderfells and the discussion on the Blighted Elven Gods. Rook still felt the Blight, dust, and decay from the Gloom Howler and her Darkspawn clinging to her skin. Although the Blight had tainted her blood for years, there was something different about this – something that sank into her pores and stuck to her clothes, as though she had stood in the smoke of a raging bonfire. It would take days of scrubbing to remove the stench from her skin. Davrin seemed to feel it, too.

“So, this is where you live, huh? In the Fade?” He chuckled as he stepped off the boat. He seemed to be taking things oddly well for someone who had just lost all his friends, been thrown into parenthood and then found out the world was ending.

“Live is a strong word.” Rook chuckled back at him, “Did we ever really live at Weisshaupt?”

“I don’t know about you, but I had some crazy nights there.”

“I think we all ended up in the dungeon at some point or another to sober up.”  Rook agreed, amusement still evident in her tone. Getting drunk and being forced to sleep it off in the bowels of the fortress was considered a rite of passage by most of the Order “But it’s alright, really. No chance of waking up to Darkspawn trying to eat your liver here. It’s getting cosier with more people, too.”

“No First Warden constantly barking in your ear either!”

“You might be up against Gods, but this will be the most peacefu-“

“Rook!” Neve’s voice, sharp against the quiet of the Crossroads, called in a way that snapped Rook’s head towards her, grabbing her undivided attention immediately. Blue eyes widened in concern as Neve ran towards them, the clack of her prosthetic echoing through the air as Bellara and Lucanis followed. Sensing an emergency brewing, Rook jogged towards her to close the distance, followed by Harding and Davrin, who looked equally concerned.

“Neve?” Blue eyes searched brown, trying to assess and reassure at the same time. It still hadn’t been long since the ritual, but Rook already had a soft spot for the Mage. “What’s wrong?”

“Everything’s wrong.” Lucanis sounded more melancholic than usual as he caught up to the Detective. “Treviso and Minrathous are both under attack.”

“Blighted dragons,” Neve added, and Rook’s stomach felt as though it dropped to her feet. “Two of them. One for each city.”

“Right, okay.” Rook filed her emotional reaction away for later. Now was the time for action, logic and strategy. “That means the dragon at D’Meta’s Crossing wasn’t the only one. When did you find out about this?”

“Just now. The Viper and Teia sent missives that just arrived.”

“Alright then, no time to lose. Grab your gear, we’re moving.” Rook’s ordered rolled off her tongue like it was the most natural thing in the world. She felt her back straighten automatically as she placed her hands on her hips – whether to convey authority to comfort the others or herself, she wasn’t sure, but now wasn’t the time for a lack of confidence.

“Go where?” Lucanis pushed. “We cannot be in two places at once. Treviso is a merchant city. It has no defences, and the canals run everywhere.” His voice grew sharper as she continued, “If we don’t stop that dragon, people will die. Innocent people… My people. They either die right away from the dragon. Or slowly after, from Blight in the water.” He began to beg to portray his desperation, “We need to go to Treviso.”

“And leave Minrathous to burn?” Neve’s eyes narrowed as her voice barely held back her annoyance.

“Neve…” Lucanis started but found no way to end his sentence. How could he when he was begging Rook to save his city and let Neve’s crumble?

Neve turned back to Rook, brows furrowing as she fought her case for her city. “The Shadow Dragons will fight, Rook. Right to the end of it. But we’re the only ones keeping the Venatori in check. If we fail? If our attentions are too focused on the Dragon to stop the Venatori from moving? They’ll take advantage. They’ll make a push for the throne.” Neve steeled herself before continuing, “And hand the Gods the entire Tevinter Empire.”

It was an impossible choice.

On one hand Rook had sworn herself to fighting the Blight, promising her life to ensure that she’d protect people from it at all costs. On the other, the Venatori gaining power in Minrathous would almost certainly strengthen the power of the Gods they faced now. So, what would win out? Old duty, or new?

The sadness in Neve’s eyes definitely didn’t influence Rook’s decision at all.

“What do we know about the Dragons?” Rook asked in an attempt to influence her decision.

“Damnit, Rook. There’s no time.” Neve huffed, disappointment flooding her features at Rook’s hesitance. She took a step back to distance herself from the group. “I need to go home. I need to be in Minrathous.” Without waiting for an answer, Neve bolted for the Eluvian.

“And I must go to Treviso. Go where you feel you must, Rook. This cannot wait.” Lucanis stated the moment Neve turned her back before taking off himself.

The remaining three stood in silence for a heartbeat while they waited for Rook’s instruction.

“What’s our move, Rook?” Harding’s voice shook in a way that Rook hadn’t heard since the ritual. She took a breath to steady herself before speaking.

“The three of you go to Treviso. Stop the Dragon. Stop the Blight. I’ll go to Minrathous to help Neve and the Shadow Dragons.”

“On your own, Rook? Are you sure?” Bellara argued.

“I’m sure. I’m a Grey Warden. I took an oath to protect Thedas from the Blight, but if the Gods get their hands on Tevinter, there might not be a Thedas left to protect. I need the three of you in Treviso. Davrin can handle issues with the Blight, while Bellara and Harding focus on the Dragon. I’ll deal with whatever I can in Minrathous. I’m sure that thing’s spitting out blight, too. An extra Warden can’t hurt.” Rook sighed as the weight of the situation settled on her shoulders. Whatever choice she made would both save and cost a lot of lives, and the guilt was already gnawing away in her chest.

“Understood, Boss.” Davrin nodded, already moving to follow Harding and Bellara.

“Come back alive, team.” Rook’s tone was solemn as she watched her friends depart. “That’s an order.”

“You too, Rook,” Harding smirked back at her.

The roaring of fire, and the overwhelming smell of smoke was the first thing Rook noticed as she stepped through the Eluvian. The second was the screams that echoed through the city and the high-pitched clashing of swords – likely the Venatori making a push for the Archon’s Palace in the chaos. The third was the heavy whooshing of air as the dragon beat its wings overhead. Rook clutched her bow and nocked an arrow as she walked through the Shadow Dragon Hideout. She was met with the terrified eyes of civilians staring back at her and a few remaining Shadow Dragons tending to wounds. Among them was a familiar face.

“Lorelei!” Rook called, quickening her pace to reach the woman. “Where’s Neve?” Rook was almost surprised with her question. She had meant to ask how The Shadows were coping, how many were injured, where she could be of the most use, but finding Neve would likely answer them all. She tried to bury the need to make sure Neve was okay, forcing herself to focus on minimising the damage from the attack.

“Rook!” Lorelei almost stumbled over her feet to greet the Warden. “Thank the Maker you’re here. The last I saw her, she was heading towards Our Lady of Victory with Tarquin and the Viper.”

“That’s where I’m heading then!” Rook patted the elf’s shoulder as she sped towards the door.

“Stay safe, Rook! Take care of our girl!” Lorelei called after her, meaning to be encouraging, but the words hit Rook in a way that made her stomach twist.

Was she actually here for the Dragon? To help with the Darkspawn and the Blight that were sure to show? Or was she only here to help Neve?

The look of relief on Neve’s face when their eyes met only served to pile on the guilt.

The cheers of the crowd when the Dragon flew off only piled on the weight.

But the real kicker was when they stepped through Treviso’s Eluvian to see the destruction that had been wrought in her absence.

Rook felt her heart stop for a moment as she took in the sight of the Blight boils poisoning the air in the Casino. In all her years as a Grey Warden, Rook had never seen the Blight cause such devastation, and the vast scale of the Blight made her feel tiny. Her feet rooted to the spot as her brows furrowed and her eyes stung as tears formed and threatened to fall. The dagger that had distracted the dragon in Minrathous weighed heavily on her hip.

This was her fault.

It didn’t matter how many people she had sent in her stead, only she could have stopped this devastation from occurring.

Neve’s presence beside her, usually a balm for her sorrows, felt scorching – yet, as the Detective placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, she couldn’t help but yearn for more.

“Rook.” Rook wasn’t sure if it was Lucanis’ voice, or Neve’s hand retracting from her shoulder that pulled her from her haze.

“Lucanis.” She wasn’t sure if it was possible, but her chest grew tighter from the look of loss on his face. “I’m so glad you’re okay…” The end of her sentence tapered off, and her eyes darted back towards the Blight, asking a silent question.

“I’m one of the lucky ones.” He said simply, a sad bite to his words.

“The dragon…” The unspoken question persisted.

“Flew around the city, raining ice on our people and spreading Blight in the canals. Utterly out of reach.” He puffed out a defeated breath. “Treviso survives for now, as do the Crows, but we’re still tallying what we’ve lost… and who.” His eyes drifted back over to Neve, who stood behind Rook with her hand grasping onto her staff for dear life. “How about Minrathous? I’m glad you both made it out.”

“We chased it off.” Rook said the words with a tone more akin to defeat than victory, “It’s still alive, but it took some damage.”

Lucanis didn’t respond – his eyes caught sight of Solas’ dagger nestled in its sheath as he moved to look solemnly back at the floor.

She felt his blame, even if he never voiced it.

What would have happened if she had gone to Treviso instead? Who could she have saved?

“You made the best decision with the information you had at the time, Kid. Don’t let that loss distract you from the lives you saved in Minrathous.”  Varric’s voice echoed through her head again as the memory turned to darkness.

Not a single thought had passed through Rook’s head since she had closed the door to her room. She had never known devastation like this before. The loss of Weisshaupt had torn her apart like nothing she’d ever experienced before. Sure, they had killed an Archdemon, but she felt as though she had lost so much more – The First Warden, just after she’d gotten through to him, more than half of the entire Order, and her home – the one she had chosen for herself after she left her family. Her friends, past lovers, mentors, her barracks, horses, knowledge, even that damned dungeon, all gone – and with it, any hope that she’d be able to rely on her order to help her with the Gods.

Thinking about the loss, even for a second, would surely cause her to break. So, instead Rook slid her back down the door and held her head in her hands. That had been hours ago. She should probably check on Davrin; he’d likely be feeling a similar sense of loss, but nothing could motivate her enough to move an inch. Moving meant acknowledging she was alive, and after so many deaths, that was the last thing she wanted to do. Instead, her eyes were planted to the stone floor of her room, blurring out the patterns cast by the light of the aquarium in her attempt to forget her own existence.

She was so deep in her own head that she didn’t notice the knock at the door, or how it pushed against her back as someone tried to open it.

“Rook?” Neve’s warm voice called out in the silence of the room. “Are you in there?” Rook only hummed in response, but shifted over so she Neve could open the door. Rook didn’t look up as Neve entered, her presence didn’t feel like the balm it usually did – Rook felt too vulnerable, too broken to let herself be comforted. Neve, ever the detective, understood Rook’s body language and silently sat beside her. 

The room was silent as they sat beside each other, but Rook’s mind had begun to race. Neve had a way of dismantling her walls without even saying a word, and it was working all too well. Rook’s breaking point came when their arms brushed together.

What started as a small gasp from the contact turned into uncontrolled but silent sobs that shook Rook’s body. She folded in on herself further, burying her face in her hands to try and quiet her cries. Neve’s arm was around her in an instant.

“Oh, Rook.” She cooed, pulling the Warden’s weight against her chest and tucking her head under her chin. “I’m here, you’re safe.” Neve held the back of Rook’s head almost reverently, her touch so soft that Rook wasn’t entirely sure her hand was there at all. Her other hand ran up and down Rook’s back, drawing circles across leather in time with the rising of her chest and releases of her sobs.

Rook had needed to cry. The devastation of Weisshaupt she had witnessed had been too much. She wondered if this was how Lucanis and the Crows felt after the Blight had corrupted their city – something they still blamed her for. Something she still blamed herself for.

Neve, just like now, had been steadfast by her side. Giving anyone who so much as dared to question Rook’s decision a look that made even trained assassins quiver in their boots. They’d both spent a lot of time in Treviso ever since – Rook determined to see and internalise the effects of her decisions, going into the deepest, darkest depths of the Blight with just Davrin at her side to ensure no one else could get infected. Neve, too, had been helping in whatever form she could, using her connections and favours she had never cashed to ensure Treviso received as much as help as possible. It still hadn’t been enough for some, but could it ever be when they saw Rook as the reason for their home being destroyed?

“Have you eaten anything today?” Neve’s soft voice pulled her from her thoughts, grounding her enough to realise Neve’s shirt had been drenched by her tears. She added it to the list of things she’d have to apologise for.

“Harding brought me a sandwich earlier,” Rook mumbled against Neve’s skin, voice hoarse from crying. “I couldn’t keep it down.”

“It wasn’t a ham and jam slam, was it?” Neve chuckled lowly, moving her head to rest her cheek on Rook’s forehead. “That might explain it.”

“No.” Rook was amazed when a chuckle of her own slipped through her sobs. Neve had an incredible way of slipping past her walls. “No, it was just cheese.”

“You couldn’t keep cheese down? There must be something wrong with you.” Neve squeezed Rook a little tighter before pulling away and moving to stand up. Rook missed the closeness immediately. “Come on.” Her hand was extended, beckoning Rook to take it. “I’ll go and get you some more food, but you need to get off the floor.”

Rook would have usually made a joke at such a request – a quip about not wanting to move or a tease about Neve’s ability to cook, but she couldn’t find the energy. Instead, she took the offered hand and let herself be pulled to her feet. Neve wiped a final tear from her cheek before beckoning to the sofa and walking out the room.

Rook was exhausted when her body hit the softness of the cushions. It was only when a soft weight shifted beside her that she realised she had fallen asleep. Neve smiled at her sweetly, setting a plate of fruits and bread on her lap and handing Rook a cup of water.

“Water first.” Neve smiled at her, and Rook felt the stress of Weisshaupt melt away from the look. “Then coffee, if you want it. I figured you could do with some caffeine, but since I just caught you napping, maybe you should stick to the water.”

Rook flicked her gaze between the plate and two cups, furrowing her brows as she tried to figure out how Neve had carried it all from the Dining Hall. “How...”

“I have very talented hands.” Neve’s soft smile grew into a low smirk, and Rook felt herself blush at the insinuation.

“Did those very talented hands make this coffee?” She quipped back, watching Neve soften at Rook’s gradually improving mood.

“You were already upset enough without drinking my swill. Lucanis provided his services.”

“Where’s yours?”

“Figured we could share. I could only carry so much.” Neve chuckled back at her, suddenly making the coffee feel very intimate. The atmosphere between them only grew more intense when Neve lifted a slice of apple up to Rook’s lips. The Warden bit into it gratefully, but her mouth became dry when Neve popped the remainder of the slice into her own mouth. Her eyes tracked the movements as Neve licked her lips, and her throat rose as she swallowed.

Rook wanted to lean in so badly - to taste the apple on her lips.

The mood was rudely interrupted when Rook’s stomach churned.

“Uh oh, that doesn’t sound good.” Neve’s face fell as she watched Rook’s turn green. Her arms wrapped around Rook’s body again as she pulled her head to rest on her shoulder, rubbing her back in comforting circles to ease the nausea.

Rook’s eyes, heavy from exhaustion built from emotion and exertion, closed as that nausea faded. She woke up hours later, still wrapped tightly in Neve’s arms.

“Funny this memory is appearing as a regret, Kid. Seems like you were falling in love.” Varric spoke, amusement mixed with curiosity in his voice.

“Wouldn’t you regret falling for someone who couldn’t love you back?”

“You really think she wasn’t falling for you, too?”

“I…”

The darkness of the Fade fizzled back to life as Varric guided her further into the memory.

“I’m glad you’re feeling better this morning.” Neve’s smile was soft and caring as she handed a still-sleepy Grey Warden a cup of tea.

“’Better’ is debatable, but tea always helps.” Rook braved offering a smile back as thanks for the tea. It grew of its own accord when Neve smiled back.

“Did you drink a lot of it with the Wardens?”

“We drank what we could. Boiling foraged leaves would help mask the taste of the water we had access to, but it wasn’t comforting. It wasn’t this.” Her body relaxed as she took a lengthy sip.

“So where does this come from?” Neve asked, brown eyes piercing as she watched Rook’s body relax. “Coffee doesn’t do this to you.”

“Coffee wakes me up. I didn’t start drinking it until I joined the Wardens.” Rook stared into the cup, watching the steam flow from the liquid as she debated where to start. Neve sensed the hesitation and shuffled closer to her on the sofa, placing a hand softly on her arm for encouragement. “Have I told you I was adopted?”

Neve shook her head.

“I never knew who my real parents were. I think they died? I was always told I was an orphan, but my adoptive parents were hardly reliable.”

“Oh?” Neve’s thumb began to move in circles on her arm, encouraging her to continue, and Rook almost lost herself in the feeling. She’d seen Neve comfort people before – lend an ear or a shoulder to cry on where needed, but she couldn’t recall seeing her touch anyone else like this before. She tried to push the thought to the back of her mind as she continued.

“They were humans, they loved to show me off in public as a child, bragging about how kind they were to offer a home and education to an elf.” Disdain dripped from Rook’s voice as she spoke. “Behind closed doors, I was nothing more than a glorified servant. I got the education, I was trained to fight, I was taught how to strategise, I even had my own room.” She took another lengthy sip of tea to ground herself. “For all intents and purposes, I was a noble… But I only fit in with the household servants.” Neve leaned in closer, placing her head on Rook’s shoulder as she listened. Rook almost lost her train of thought at the new level of contact. “There was one woman… Sylvie. She was the oldest servant, she took everyone under her wing, including me. She taught me how to act like a regular person – how to cook, how to clean, how to keep myself alive. I think she saw the writing on the wall and knew I’d leave one day.” Rook chuckled bitterly as she recalled the day she walked away from her family. “She took care of me like an actual mother would. She wiped my tears, she cleaned my wounds, she snuck me extra food when I was hungry. She’d always give me a cup of tea to make me feel better. And a hug.”

“Tea I can do.” Neve chuckled, lifting her head to catch Rook’s gaze again. “I’m not sure you’d want a hug from me.” A deflection, Rook realised. She knew Neve wasn’t one for hugging, but there was more to it than that. Still, she didn’t press. “What happened to her?”

“She grew old, frail, as anyone does. My father was always heavy-handed. One day, she didn’t get back up. I buried her and left for the Wardens.” Neve tensed beside her as her face fell, and Rook almost regretted telling the story. That was until the Detective began to rub her thumb in affectionate circles across her skin.

Neve stayed silent for a few minutes, seemingly deep in thought as she stared off into the middle distance.

“Have you eaten yet?” She broke the silence so unexpectedly that Rook almost jumped out of her skin.

“Not yet. I probably could eat, though.”

“Fancy a trip to Dock Town?” Neve looked back up and caught her gaze with a squeeze on her arm.

“Any excuse!” Rook barked out a laugh in response. Neve flashed a smirk back.

“Well, I was going to offer to buy you lunch, but if you’d rather not…”

“Are you kidding? You paid last time. It’s my turn.”

Neve looked almost confused at Rook’s insistence, and the Warden got the impression people didn’t offer to buy her meals much. She made a mental note to do so more in the future. Just as quickly as the confusion appeared, it melted away as affection took its place.

“Well, if you insist.”

Rook wasn’t sure she’d ever get used to the business of cities. She’d spent her childhood on her family’s country estate and her adulthood across Thedas in forts and the wilds, but very rarely did she find herself amongst so many people.

She found it peaceful, overlooking the ocean, though. Just sitting beside Neve, with water lapping at the dock beneath them, was enough to cause the rest of the city to melt away.

“I know losing Weisshaupt has been hard, Rook,” Neve began, pausing between mouthfuls of her fish skewer. “But how do you feel about the rest of what happened?”

Rook’s brow furrowed at the question, unsure what Neve was referring to. “What do you mean?”

“You and Davrin were debating who would kill the Archdemon… debating who would sacrifice themselves. You were so ready to. And then when you baited the archdemon into the trap, it could have killed you without blinking an eye, yet it seemed like any other day to you.”

“Every Warden knows what might be demanded of us one day. It’s how we keep the world safe from the Blight.” Rook seemed unfazed by the question as she took another bite of her meal.

“I know.” Neve sighed, seemingly unsatisfied by the answer. “It just... I don’t know, it got me thinking.”

“Hmm?” Rook swallowed her bite, leaving her meal temporarily forgotten to focus her attention on Neve.

“What we’re doing, fighting the Gods – even if by some miracle it doesn’t kill us, being a Warden will kill you… and I don’t even know your real name.”

“Are you getting sentimental on me, Neve Gallus?” Rook smirked at her, eyes bright from the blatant teasing, but Neve seemed to look back at her with an unusual sadness,

“I’m serious, Rook. There’s still another Archdemon to kill and only so many Wardens left to kill it. How long until that Warden is you?”

“It will be, one day.” Rook threaded a hand through her hair, suddenly feeling uneasy. “Either that or I’ll face The Calling. It’s said the average Warden lives for thirty years after The Joining, so I’ve got about twenty left.”

“If you’re lucky.”

Rook couldn’t bring herself to look at the Detective. All she wanted to do was reach out and kiss away the fear that was etched across her face. It was never easy for people to grow attached to Grey Wardens, but especially hard for people in Neve’s position… whatever their position was.

“It’s Kyra.” She said, close to a whisper. “My name. Kyra Thorne.” Neve relaxed instantly, letting a small smile cross her face as she looked over to Rook. “Not like you wouldn’t have tracked it down if I hadn’t told you, anyway.”

“Sure, I would have.” Neve laughed through a breathy chuckle before turning her gaze back to the water, “But at least this way, I can remember this moment, rather than having to find out on my own after you’re gone.”

“This is it, huh, kid?”  Varric’s voice appeared again from the darkness. This time, the memory didn’t fade away but seemed to pause on the pain Neve already felt at the idea of losing Rook. “This is the regret, not falling for Neve – but seeing her fall for you.”

Rook didn’t even know if she was solid or if she was some sort of formless spirit deep in the Fade, but her body was real enough for tears to roll down her cheeks.

“It was just harmless flirting at first. I didn’t mean for real feelings to grow.” Rook’s voice broke as she looked over the scene before her. “What kind of person am I to let her fall for a Grey Warden?”

“You’re forgetting Neve is a very capable, very intelligent woman with free will, Rook.”

“No, I know that.” Rook sniffed. “But I could have kept my distance. She would have been safer.”

“You’ve got a lot to learn, Kid.”

Lavendel. The new home of the decimated order of Grey Wardens.

Rooks’ body tensed as she walked through the frozen grounds of the fortification, the groans of injured and dying Wardens echoing through the otherwise silent air. Even Assan seemed mournful as he followed closely at Davrin’s heels.

“Rook, we don’t have to be here right now if it’s too much.” Neve’s voice, soft and warm against the hard chill of the air, came from beside her as she looked across the bodies in the medical bay. The Detective placed a comforting hand at the base of her back, and despite the leather of Neve’s glove and Rook’s armour, she swore she could feel the heat against her skin.

“No…” Rook lifted her gaze from the bodies to meet Neve’s gaze. She didn’t know whether it was a talent of the Mage or if it was a symptom of the growing connection they shared, but she immediately felt some of the tension melt away. “I-“

“Kyra!” A voice interrupted her from below where they stood, and Neve’s hand retracted from her back. She already mourned its loss.

Neve’s eyes followed the voice, narrowing slightly in suspicion of how someone could know Rook’s real name, before relaxing when she no doubt remembered these people knew Rook before she was ‘Rook’. 

Rook was so focused on Neve’s reaction that she completely forgot someone had called her.

“Kyra!” The voice called again. Whoever it belonged to sounded oddly happy to see her. When she finally looked away from Neve, she realised why.

“Greta?” Rook was dumbfounded. It had been seven years since they had last seen each other, but the other woman looked incredible. “Gods, it’s been so long. How are you?” She smiled as she jogged to hug the other woman. She caught the ire in Neve’s eyes as she pulled away.

“Better now I know the hotshot Warden everybody’s talking about remembers the person she took the Joining with.” Greta snarked, punching Rook playfully in the arm.

Kyra wasn’t sure who was more scared. Five of them – willing initiates- were to finally undertake the Joining after months of training. They were to become fully fledged Grey Wardens and have the secrets of the Order bestowed upon them.

But three of them were already dead, two by the ritual, one from cowardice. Only she and Greta remained, yet to take a sip from the chalice.

“I don’t know if I can do this, Kyra.” Greta was close to sobbing beside her, clutching her arm with such force that Kyra could feel each of her fingers even through the passing of her armour. Her own fear bubbled in her chest, threatening to freeze her body to the spot, but she pushed through it. This was why she was here.

“You have to Greta.” Rook cooed, pushing through her own fear. “You either take a sip, or they kill you.”

Greta moved her lips to Rook’s ear, and Rook felt a shiver run down her spine. They’d grown close throughout their training together, and she was sure there was something between them. She was growing more and more certain of it from the proximity of Greta’s body to hers. “We don’t have to do this. You’re strong, we can fight our way out.”

Kyra chuckled at the absurdity of Greta’s suggestion, turning to the side to brush a strand of dark hair away from her usually sparkling eyes.

“No one’s strong enough to fight through a fort full of Grey Wardens.” She held Greta’s gaze, “Besides, I came here to become a Grey Warden. Tonight, I’m either going back to the barracks or to a funeral pyre.”

“I don’t want to lose you.” Greta bit her lip in an attempt to hold back tears, but one slid down her cheek regardless.

“That’s what we signed up for. All of us go eventually.” She sighed, brushing away the tear and raising her chin with a gentle hand. “But it’s up to you. No one’s forcing you to drink, but you know the consequences if you don’t.”

 “Can we do it together? I don’t think I can do it without you.”

“Of course.” Kyra smiled, “Is that okay?” She looked across to ask the elder Warden, who held the chalice and a still bloodied sword.

“Like you said, no one’s forcing you to drink, but you know the consequences if you don’t.” He eyed the body on the floor, blood still pooling beneath it. “How long you take to drink, how you drink, or the order in which you drink does not concern me.”

Kyra took the chalice in one hand and turned to face Greta, keeping her thumb brushing across her cheek. Her chest hurt from how vulnerable the woman looked.

“Tell me again why you wanted this.” She whispered.

“To protect the people I care about from the Blight,” Greta whispered back.

“Do you care about me?”

“More than anyone else here.”

Rook lifted the chalice to her lips and took a sip, feeling the bitter and disconcertingly warm liquid flow down her throat. She swallowed, trying not to grimace. The burning in her blood was almost immediate, but she hid it as best she could.

“Then protect me, too.” Kyra croaked, eyes burning. She clenched her jaw as she raised the chalice to Greta’s lips. “You can’t watch my back if you can’t sense the Blight.”

Another tear fell from Greta’s eye as she tilted her head back, allowing the liquid to flow down her throat.

As Kyra handed the chalice back, Greta’s hand threaded gently into her hair.

“You’re always so brave, Kyra.” She whispered, reflecting the same pain that Kyra felt as the Blight coursed through their bodies. “I want to be brave, too.”

Greta’s hold on her tightened as she leaned in to capture her lips. The taste of the Blight lingered on their tongues, but the heat of the kiss dulled the pain, dulled her racing thoughts. If this was the last thing she saw before her body succumbed to Blight, she could die happy.

Without warning, the burning that had been coursing through her body turned excruciating, and a cry of pain tore from her throat. Greta pulled away, fear replacing the lust that had shone in her eyes just seconds ago.

“Kyra?!” She panicked, rushing to her side as her legs gave out from beneath her.

Every cell of her body felt as though it was being split open, as though a virus was infecting the very DNA at the core of her being. The last thing she saw was Greta succumbing to her own pain as the world turned black.

Time passed. The world grew colder. Kyra opened her eyes again.

“How are you feeling? Evka, one of the first people she had met at her arrival at Weisshaupt, was smiling softly beside her. Her fiancé, Antoine, stood a few feet away. It hadn’t been long since he’d been in the infirmary recovering from his own Joining, but the two had developed a very strong bond, very quickly. Kyra briefly wondered if she’d share the same bond with Greta… if she had survived.

“I’ve been better.” She croaked, “Did Greta make it?”

“She did. She’s still asleep.” Evka smiled, signalling to a bed in the furthest corner of the infirmary. “You can go to her.”

Kyra took the offer without a second thought, gritting her teeth as her legs strained beneath her. She landed on the edge of Greta’s cot clumsily, eyes widening in panic as she realised she probably woke the other woman.

A beat passed, then two, but Greta didn’t stir. Kyra wasn’t sure if she was relieved or more worried. Her eyes flashed over the where she thought Antoine and Evka were, but the two had vacated the infirmary to give the two women some space.

Feeling helpful to do anything else, Kyra brushed a stray strand of hair away from Greta’s face.

The moment her fingers brushed her skin, Greta’s eyes flung open – still the warm brown she recognised, but dark circles surrounded them now, black veins peeking through her dark skin. She would have wondered if her eyes looked the same if Greta’s fist hadn’t connected with her jaw.

“What the- Greta, it’s me!” Kyra choked, throwing her hands up defensively to block in case Greta struck again.

“Kyra! Fuck! Oh, gods, I’m so sorry. I thought- Are you okay?“ Greta fumbled over her words, hands reaching out to pry Kyra’s away from her face. Their fingers intertwined as they fell into her lap.

“I will be if you use that right hook in the field.” She laughed. Her eyes dropped to their hands. “I didn’t expect you to kiss me.” She confessed, suddenly feeling shy.

“I thought you would have made the first move, but if we were about to die, I was going to wait for you to catch up.” Greta smirked back at her.

“Catch up?”

Greta nodded, eyes shining brightly in the dull light of the infirmary. “There’s been something between us since the moment we laid eyes on each other, Kyra. Don’t you feel it, too?”

Small smiles, searching eyes, and shared jokes sprung to the new Warden’s mind. She had felt it too, but it hadn’t been too long since her heart had been broken by another. She wanted this – whatever this was. But something about it didn’t sit quite right.

“I do.” She smiled, burying her concerns.

“Then let’s make it official.” Greta bit her lip, eyes mischievous as she grabbed Kyra by the collar, pulling her in to press a slow but heated kiss against her lips. “Lock the door.”

Almost three years later, Kyra sat at her desk in her barracks, head in her hands as she read the contents of the letter over again.

“What are you reading?” Greta asked, wrapping her arms around her shoulders from behind and pressing a soft kiss against her temple.

“They’re recruiting for a new outpost in Ferelden.” She sighed, “I’ve been… requested.”

“What?” Greta’s arms fell limp at the news, she leaned down to take the letter from the desk, brow furrowing as she read it. “They can’t do this.” She bit, “They know we’re together. They can’t separate us.”

“They can.” Rook sighed, although her heart hadn’t sunk at the news. “They have.”

“Well, then I’ll put in a request to join you.” Greta pushed herself away from Kyra, pacing across the room in anger.

“Greta…” Kyra sighed, turning her body to face her partner. As much as she had tried to push down the niggling feeling that something wasn’t right between them over the last few years, it had only grown stronger. She couldn’t place her finger on it. Greta didn’t deserve to move across Thedas for someone who wasn’t fully committed.

The other Warden turned on her heels at the sound of her name, eyes already red and boring into her.

“I know that tone.” She bit, “Whatever you’re going to say, Kyra, don’t. I’m coming with you. I love you too much to let you go.”

Kyra bit her lip, brows furrowing as she deflated in her chair. As much as she loved Greta, she had never been able to say those words back to her. At first, she thought it had been fear from getting her heart broken that had held her back, then it had been the fear of losing Greta on a mission, but eventually, she had run out of excuses.

“Greta…” She tried again, her voice cracking as she spoke. “This isn’t working.”

“Is this because you can’t tell me you love me?” Greta chuckled bitterly, “I told you before I don’t care how long it takes you. I love you. That’s all that matters to me. I want to be with you.” The chuckle turned into a sob as tears flowed down her cheeks. “I need to be with you, Kyra. We’re meant for each other.”

“I don’t think we are, Greta.” Kyra sighed as she stood, wanting to wrap the woman in her arms, but fearing it would make things worse. “You’ve had your identity – yourself worth- wrapped in our relationship for almost three years. I think you need to find yourself outside of us.”

Another sob escaped Greta’s throat as she paused, mulling over Kyra’s words. “But what if I don’t want to?”

“You need to.” Kyra gave in and moved towards her partner, taking her in her arms as she sobbed. “If we’re truly meant for each other like you think, we’ll find our way back to each other. But I think this is what’s best for us now.”

“I don’t want to lose you,” Greta whispered into her chest.

“I know.” Kyra felt a tear of her own slide down her cheek. “I’m sorry.”

“So… Greta?” Neve asked later that day, an inquisitive smirk plastered across her face. Rook had stopped by Neve’s office just to talk and bring her coffee, but they had fallen into a comfortable silence, more than happy to just occupy a space together while Neve ran through notes and Rook read a book perched on Neve’s cot.

“What about her?” Rook raised an eyebrow at the Detective, placing her book on her chest. The characters in her trashy romance novel would have to continue their slow burn later.

“You two looked cosy together.” Brown eyes gave nothing away from across the room.

“Hmph, hardly.”

“Okay, she looked cosy with you. You looked like a scared rabbit.”

“A scared rabbit?” Rook laughed, pushing herself to sit up on the cot. She didn’t know how Neve slept on something so uncomfortable.

“It’s not an inaccurate comparison.” Neve chuckled back, “There’s a history between you two then?”

“You could say that,” Rook smirked, blue eyes flicking between brown to read anything behind Neve’s intention. “Why do you ask?”

“It’s good to utilise relationships in our position.”

“The Wardens aren’t a faction we need to strengthen our relationship with.” Rook narrowed her eyes, placing her book beside her on the cot and crossing her legs beneath her. “I’m a Warden, Davrin’s a Warden, I have a good relationship with Antoine and Evka, I’m well respected amongst my peers…”

“Point taken.” Neve laughed back, “Maybe it would be more accurate to say we don’t want our relationship with the Wardens to sour, then?”

“I’m not sure I follow.” Rook challenged, understanding completely what Neve meant but refusing to take the bait. Neve eyed her as though she knew.

“The way she looked at you, Rook… The way she said your name. What are you to each other?”

“If you think that our history is going to lose us allies, you don’t need to worry.”

“That doesn’t answer my question,” Neve answered a little bit too quickly – a little bit too sharply. Was she… jealous?

Rook offered a wry smile but decided to give Neve the information she craved. “You probably don’t need me to tell you.” She raised a knowing eyebrow at the Detective, “We were together for a few years before I got stationed at a different fort.”

Neve’s eyes narrowed for a split second, fast enough that most people would have mistaken it for a blink had they not been looking properly. “That must have been hard?” It was a push for more information disguised as empathy, though Rook didn’t doubt the concern was genuine. “Being broken up like that?”

“Does it make me a coward if I say it was easier?” Rook sighed, keeping her gaze trained on Neve. It clearly wasn’t the answer she was expecting, and her brows furrowed in confusion.

“What do you mean?”

“I was looking for a reason to end it. I didn’t have the guts until I got the letter.”

“Did she know that?”

“No…” Rook shifted uncomfortably on the cot, not wishing to relive the memory for a second time today but wanting to settle whatever was going on in Neve’s mind. “She wanted to come with me.”

“Did you love her?”

Rook wondered if she’d be asking these questions if there wasn’t something going on between them. She wasn’t this interested in the Bellara’s history with Irelin.

“No.” It was a simple answer, but one that only seemed to raise more questions from the Detective.

“But she loved you?”

“Mhm.” Rook nodded in confirmation. “I always felt ashamed that I couldn’t give her the love she deserved.”

“It’s not always that easy.” Neve agreed, resting her chin on her fist, “You can’t control who you fall for or when you fall for them.” The statement seemed more like she was saying it to herself than to Rook.

“No…” Rook tried not to think too much into it, already feeling herself falling deeper for Neve than she ever had for Greta. “I suppose you can’t.”

“What are you doing? Rook’s amusement was evident in her voice as she entered Neve’s office. Usually, the Warden would find her bent over her notes, frantically moving across the clues on her wall, or staring absentmindedly into the fade. Today, though, Neve perched silently on her desk, her office was filled with what looked like wooden cages.

“The wisps are drawn to something around here,” Neve spoke in that ever-curious tone, warm eyes flicking around the room to follow their movements. “The boxes are baited with notes, baubles, things they steal.”

“Maybe they’re drawn to you.” Rook teased, “But you can do better than a bunch of tiny blue thieves.”

Neve’s smile lit up the room at the joke. “They’ve been seen here when I’m not. There’s more to it.”

“So has Assan.” Rook laughed, “You know exactly what he hangs around for.”

“I don’t think the wisps are waiting for me to throw them a treat or scratch them behind the ear, Rook.”

“Have you tried to scratch them behind the ear? I’m sure they’d appreciate it.”

“You’re impossible.” Neve rolled her eyes affectionately.

“Not your usual stakeout, though?” Rook eyed the traps around the room.

“It certainly doesn’t come with the usual level of danger, no.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Rook smirked back, mischief in her eyes. “That one looks like it could do some damage.”

“Rook!” Neve giggled, and Rook’s heart fluttered at the sound – loving it even more when she was the reason.

“I’m just saying, you could do with some backup on such a dangerous mission.”

Neve’s smile grew shy, and she looked at the floor briefly to avoid Rook’s gaze. “I’ll take the company.” She looked back up at Rook, schooling her expression into something serious, “But you’re right. I heard that one-” She signalled to a wisp in the corner of the room, “-Runs an illicit coffee smuggling ring.”

“Is that why there’s always half-finished cups in here?” She sidled up beside Neve as she leaned against the desk, folding her arms and feeling her cheeks ache from smiling as she held Neve’s gaze.

Neve’s own smile grew impossibly brighter, “Damn, you weren’t supposed to know that. Now it’ll come for you, too.”

“Let it try.” Rook teased, brushing her shoulder against Neve’s, “Didn’t think I’d have to add wisps to our list of ever-growing enemies, but here we are.”

“Life’s full of surprises.” Neve regarded her through a side-glance, dark fair falling to frame her face beautifully. The sight of her left Rook feeing vulnerable, as though her eyes alone were able to see through all her defences and know all of her secrets – not that she had any.

“It certainly has been lately.”  She responded, a little quieter than she intended.

“You’re not the only one getting used to them.” Neve’s smile, so soft and sincere, hit her right in the heart. “You’ve got a habit of creating them, too.”

If Rook wasn’t blushing before, she was certain she was now. Was Neve… flirting with her?

Rook flashed a lopsided smile, barely able to hold Neve’s gaze.

“There’s more to come, I’m sure. But it’s been good to catch you off guard, sometimes.”

 It was Neve’s turn to blush now. “Is that so?” Her voice lilted with amusement, “Safe to say the last few months haven’t been boring, at least.”

“Not boring?” Rook chuckled lightly, begging her cheeks to stop burning, “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Neve’s smile faltered at that, and her expression suddenly turned serious – eyes becoming dark with intensity as they flicked down to Rook’s lips. “You should.”

Oh, shit she was flirting.

Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit.

“Neve…” She whispered, feeling her brain give control entirely to her heart.

“Rook, I-“ Neve started at the same time, but neither of them continued. Their bodies seemed to grow closer together, and Rook’s breath seemed to catch in her throat. This was all she wanted… Neve was all she wanted – and at this moment, it was just the two of them. No Gods, no cults, no Blight, no interruptions.

Suddenly, a thunk sounded from across the room – a wisp being caught in a trap.

The tension between them broke as quickly as it had appeared, Neve jumping a little from the sudden sound. They shared a giggle before Neve pushed herself off the desk and knelt down beside the cage.

“I think…” She said, peeling the lid, “We caught a wisp.”

“Is that all?” Rook spoke before she realised the words came out of her mouth. It felt like a confession, rather than a question – an admission to Neve that she had her hook, line and sinker. She felt tiny under the Detective’s gaze, asking to be seen, asking for what they had to be acknowledged.

Neve’s eyes tracked the wisp as it flew away from the cage. Her face dropped as it rose higher into the room, and for a second, Rook panicked that she had read the situation wrong – that she was imagining whatever was going on between them.

“I don’t ask for much,” Neve sighed, her face more serious than Rook had ever seen it before – yet her voice was so soft, “Or for anything…” Her eyes darted to the floor, away from Rook, and her shoulder carried an unmistakable sadness. “You know, the world’s not fair on a good day.” She huffed out a breath as she moved back to the desk, perching beside Rook again. “You and me, Rook. We chase trouble. So, what can we ask for?”

“I don’t think we need to ask for anything.” Rook breathed, almost so quiet that Neve would have to strain to hear her. “Sometimes we’re allowed to just let things take their course. Let go of control and just… feel.”

“And you’d know a lot about that, would you?” Neve whispered back, but her tone grew lighter, and her eyes were now fixated on Rook’s.

Rook pushed herself off the desk and stood in front of Neve, who straightened enough to allow Rook’s body to come within millimetres of her own. The Warden raised her hand, brushing a strand of hair out of Neve’s face as she held her gaze.

“In this moment, I do.”

Neve sucked in a breath at the response, dropping her eyes to Rook’s lips and letting the corner of her lip rise. Her finger drew a lazy pattern on Rook’s forearm “You know,” she whispered, her eyes sparkling with clarity as they met Rook’s again, “I think you might be Trouble.”

It was a signal – an invitation, and a clear one at that. The clearest sign Neve had ever given, and Rook wasn’t about to squander it. The world slowed as Neve’s gaze flicked across Rook’s face as their lips drew closer together. Neve’s hand moved from Rook’s arm, lifting to cup her cheek, and Rook almost cried at the softness of the touch. Her own fingers, calloused from years of archery and wielding swords, seemed to be appreciated just as much as they tangled in Neve’s hair. As Rook’s eyes drifted closed, she revelled in the look of utter peace on Neve’s face.

Then a wisp trilled as it floated between them, brushing its tendrils across their faces and leaving a weird buzzing sensation in its wake. Rook almost jumped out of her skin from the interruption, but the more disturbing thing was the expression now plastered on Neve’s face.

Her eyes were wide with horror, mouth hanging agape to match, and she pulled her hand away from Rook’s face as though her skin was made of fire.

“I shouldn’t… I can’t.” She stumbled over her words, standing straighter as Rook put some distance between them. “This can’t happen, Rook. We can’t happen.”

Rook’s brow furrowed in confusion, and though the world had slowed just seconds ago, now it felt as though it had stopped spinning entirely. “Neve…” She wanted to reach out, find some of the softness she had been shown just seconds ago, but Neve’s face hardened.

“I can’t believe I let myself…” Neve clenched her jaw, her eyes wetter than Rook had noticed before. “Why are you here, Rook?”

“What do you mea-“

“What did you come here for? Really?” Her tone turned harsh now. Rook had just let down all of her defences to let Neve in, but instead, the Detective responded with words that felt like daggers in her heart.

“Do I need a reason?” Rook’s voice betrayed how vulnerable she felt.

“Maybe you do.” Neve folded her arms and avoided Rook’s gaze. “Maybe you should, from now on.”

“Wha-“

“I need you to leave, Rook. Whatever this is. Whatever this was, it can’t happen. I won’t let it. We can never be anything more than colleagues.”

Rook wanted to argue. She wanted to fight for whatever was blooming between them. Even though her words cut like a knife, Neve looked terrified. But she knew better than to push.

“I’m sorry for making you uncomfortable.” She said, face as neutral as she could make it, though she couldn’t stop the waver in her voice or the tears welling in her eyes as her heart broke.

Neve didn’t stop her as she turned towards the door.

As the memory faded, the same tears from the past prickled in her eyes again.

“That one hurt, huh, kid?” Varric’s voice was sympathetic as Rook let the tears fall, letting herself feel the rejection without having to cover her pain. The last few months weighed on her. The push and pull between them both. Letting herself hope, feel, open up again and again only to be crushed. Her sobs turned to a bitter chuckle. “But this is what you come to expect when you wear your heart on your sleeve.”

“Fuck.” Rook sobbed, bending to lean on her knees. She could feel herself breaking from the onslaught of memories, the pain of each fresher than the last. She knew this was Solas’ prison – that it was showing her regrets, but didn’t understand why all of them seemed to involve a certain Detective… or why Varric was here to talk through them with her. Her eyes scanned her surroundings, trying to find anything that looked real – that wouldn’t suck her into a memory.

A guttural scream tore from her throat as another materialised.

Rook felt at ease. Alcohol pumped through her system in replacement of the adrenaline that had faded hours ago. The Wardens felt whole again – killing the Gloom Howler, landing the killing blow had felt incredible and it had given her brothers and sisters in arms the morale boost they all needed after the events of the last few months.

Rook sat on the edge of a table, legs propped up by a bench, and was in the middle of a story that had a circle of captive Wardens on the edge of their seats. As intoxicated and into her story as she was, she still couldn’t help but pause when Neve entered the room. Her mind cleared in an instant, hours of drunkenness wearing off in an instant to reveal the most sober thought she had had in a long time – Neve was the most beautiful woman she had ever seen in her life. Though her heart had been battered and bruised over the last few months, she still felt breathless whenever she laid eyes on the Detective.

In fact, she could have sworn Neve was giving her the same look back.

The temptation to leave the Wardens hanging and go over to Neve clawed at her. She was almost certain she would have if Greta hadn’t nudged her to continue.

But then, how would it have been fair of Rook to go over to Neve when she had made it clear she didn’t want her back? She pushed the thought to the back of her mind as the Mage moved towards Bellara.

As the night progressed, conversations turned into song, jokes turned into games, blood turned into alcohol, and Rook’s lust turned to a jealous rage as she watched a Junior Warden flirt outrageously with Neve as they played Wicked Grace. She hated this about herself. She had no right to Neve - to her attention, to her gaze, her touch, and yet the sight of her flashing flirty smiles at Arden ignited a blaze of anger in her that couldn’t be quelled.

Neve was the second to last at the table to place her cards down. A smile plastered on her face betrayed her good hand – her poker face nowhere to be found with the alcohol running through her system. One by one, the table huffed, groaned and laughed at their losses, tossing their cards into the centre, Rook included. Arden flashed Neve a smirk as they played their own hand, and Rook found herself wanting to grip them by the throat.

“I win.” Their eyes danced over her face as they revealed their cards. “How about you and I make a separate bet for the next round?” Rook’s blood ran cold at the question, and she couldn’t help but squirm in her seat. That’s exactly the line she would have used.

“What do you have in mind?” She responded, voice low and husky from the wine. Her tongue darted out to taste the wine that had soaked into her lips. Usually, the action would have made Rook’s mouth dry, eager to share in what Neve was tasting, but instead, her eyes were fixed on Arden’s as they followed the movement.

“If I win the next hand, you have to go on a date with me.”

The muscles of Rook’s jaw burned from exertion as it tightened, rage coursing through her system. What right did Arden have to speak to Neve like this?

It dawned on her quickly, despite her drunken brain. Arden had every right. Neve wasn’t hers. Neve would never be hers.

Tears stung her eyes, and her hands twitched with the need to throttle the junior Warden who, in a matter of minutes, had destroyed not only the high of her victory but any illusion that she and Neve might have a future. She felt like an idiot.

Before she could feel anymore, Rook pushed herself up from her seat.

“You know what, fuck this. I’m going to bed.”

She felt thankful that her tears only began to fall as she turned her back to the table.

“Rook!” Neve and Greta called for her at the same time, but only Neve’s voice stuck in her mind. Still, she couldn’t turn back. Turning back would mean letting her tears fall freely and collapsing at Neve’s feet.

Her breath shook, and tears streaked her cheeks as she planted her back against the exterior wall of the Dining Hall. She regretted picking this spot immediately. It was a nice view of the Fade, but it was also a nice view of Neve’s office. There was no escaping her emotions, it seemed.

She covered her face with her hands as she let a sob escape her throat.

“Kyra?” Greta’s voice was soft and gentle – a balm for the sharp edges of her broken heart, though she wished she could be alone for a while. She let out a shaky breath, wiping her eyes as subtly as she could, and tensed her jaw. She didn’t want Greta to see how vulnerable Neve made her feel. “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” Rook answered just a bit too quickly - a bit too sharply. “I’m fine. I just fucking hate how arrogant Arden is.”

“You’ve only just met them.” Greta cooed, reaching up to tenderly wipe a tear away from Rook’s cheek. It felt odd – such a familiar touch after so many years apart, but it was still so soft, so full of the love Greta so clearly held for her. The last person to touch her like that had been Neve. She couldn’t help but melt at the memory, and her drunken eyes drifted closed to revel in the touch. “What’s really going on, Rook?” Greta dropped her voice into a low husk as she said Rook’s name. It dragged her further into her memories.

Her warm skin, her deep, sultry voice, her dark hair, the intensity of her gaze.

Rook’s eyes were still blurry from her tears, and alcohol still coursed through her system – the feeling growing more intense from the cold air across her skin.

Suddenly it was no longer Greta that stood before her.

“Talk to me, Rook,” Greta spoke, but it was Neve’s voice she heard, Neve’s eyes that she looked into.

Rook choked back a sob as she moved to place her hand over Neve’s, running her thumb gently across her skin and keeping it planted to her cheek.

“I…” She tried through another sob, but the words wouldn’t come out. She knew this wasn’t Neve, but the hallucination had grown so intense that she struggled to separate fantasy from reality.

“Shh, it’s okay.” Neve cooed back, her lips inching closer with each second that passed.

Rook could no longer handle the tirade of emotions that coursed through her blood. Something within her broke. “I’m in love with you.” She whispered. A confession – a promise. She was rewarded with hot lips pressing against her own and a hand wrapping around her neck.

“You have no idea what it means to hear you say that,” Neve whispered back. “I’ve loved you from the moment I laid eyes on you.”

Alcohol mixed with hormones and tears and want and pain, and Rook couldn’t take the distance a moment longer. In one swift movement, her arms wrapped around Neve, twirling them around to pin her against the wall. Neve groaned at the closeness of their bodies, angling her head to allow Rook access to her neck as Rook’s hand raked across her body – clumsy, drunken movements leading it lower and lower until it pushed under the waistband of her trousers. Neve hooked her leg around Rook, angling her hips up to allow Rook’s fingers better access as they sunk into her wet heat.

“Fuck, Kyra!” A guttural moan pulled Rook from her daze, and her blue eyes snapped open in sudden clarity.

What had she done?

“Greta…” Rook gasped, freezing as a chill ran through her body, sobering her up in an instant.

“Don’t stop, please.” She groaned, hands still grasping locks of Rook’s hair. “I love you.”

“I… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have. I think I should go to bed.”

Rook pulled away from Greta slowly, breath heavy as she fought to regain control over her mind.

Guilt and regret pulled her in every direction.

But what sunk the knife in deeper was catching sight of Arden pushing Neve up against the wall of her office as she walked past.

“WHY?” Rook screamed into the darkness as the memory faded again. “Why are you forcing me to relive this, Varric? As if it wasn’t painful enough the first time?”

“It’s not me, Rook.” He sighed, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. It felt unusually cold – the weight of it too light. “This is a prison of your own creation. You know that.”

“Locked with regret.” Rook mumbled, bitterness tinging her voice.

“You know why you need to relive this then.” He sympathised, “You think Solas ever relived his memories? You think he ever admitted he was anything other than the victim?”

“Are you telling me this is how I get out of here?” Rook’s eyes snapped across to him with a sudden clarity. “That facing all of these memories is the key to this place?”

“You think you’d be putting yourself through this if you didn’t know the answer to that already?” He chuckled, shaking her shoulder as he did so. “Show me what happened next.”

Rook sighed, wiping a stray tear from her cheek as she continued to let the memory play.

She walked back to the Lighthouse, heart in tatters, only to forget everything as the sky of the Fade itself turned red.

Wardens and the Veilguard moved in a fluster to prepare for what they all knew was about to happen. Elgar’nan was making a move, forcing the eclipse needed to create the Red Lyrium dagger to tear open the Veil.

They were out of time.

Hours blurred together as she gathered her team, ensured they were prepared and well stocked for the battle to come. It could be their last, after all.

“Davrin!” She called after her fellow Warden as he walked back to his room to get the last of his gear.

“Boss.” He smirked at her, but it lacked his usual optimism.

“I need you to do me a favour.”

“Anything.”

Rook steeled herself to speak, knowing she was the main target for the gods – that she would be the one to wield the dagger against them. “Look, it’s not likely I’ll make it off the island.”

“Rook-“ He interrupted, but she raised her hand to stop him.

“I’m being realistic, Davrin. Not all of us are likely to make it, and you know I’ll put myself between the team and danger.”

“I know, Rook.” He sighed, hand burying itself in Assan’s feather to ground him. “Why are you telling me this?”

“If I don’t make it, I need you to get Neve off the island and to safety.”

Davrin’s jaw tensed, but the corner of his mouth lifted. “You think she’d go willingly without you?”

“No,” Rook smirked back. The answer was as clear as her own – if Neve didn’t make it, Rook wouldn’t leave her for hell or high water. “Which is why I need you to promise me.”

Davrin’s eyes flicked between Rook’s own, narrowing slightly. It was clear he didn’t like what Rook was insinuating. “I promise.”

“Did they make it?” Rook stood straighter as she turned to Varric, panic flooding her features.

“I think you’re about to find out.” He smirked back at her, signalling to a crack that was appearing in the never-ending darkness.

“This way. It’s thinner here.” Emmrich’s voice was uncharacteristically hurried as it echoed through the crack.

“You better be right.” Taash spoke next, and Rook almost crumbled at the sound of her friends’ voices.

“Is this real?” Rook turned to Varric, holding back more tears that threatened to fall.

“This is real, kid. You can go home now.”

Something about the way he said the words – wistful and with his own tinge of regret- told Rook she was missing something.

“Wait…” She paused. “Why are you here, Varric?”

He flashed her a wistful smile. “You know why.”

“Rook!” Lucanis shouted, pulling her from her thoughts as they raced.

“I would say good luck, but you don’t need it.” Varric started to walk backwards, away from her, and Rook’s tears started falling once more.

“What will happen to you now?”

“I’ll always be with you, Rook.” He smirked. “Now go. I’m looking forward to seeing how it turns out.”

“There! A light!” Emmrich’s voice shone with a hope that had been absent in the moments before – it was enough to pull her attention back to the crack.

“Neve! We’ve got something!” Davrin shouted off into the distance and Rook’s heart soared at the knowledge she was okay.

“Goodbye, Varric. And thank you.”

He smiled at her one last time before arms reached through the crack to grab her, and everything went black once more.