Chapter Text
This was the first time she didn’t want to go through the eluvian to the Shadow Dragon’s pawn shop. This was the first time she didn’t know what she would find as she crossed that threshold, knowing how narrowly the crisis was averted at Treviso. It felt wrong stepping into the pawn shop at this hour, wearing her crow leathers instead of the ratty old Shadow Dragons robe she had pilfered from Ashur the first night they were together.
“Why do you need this old robe?” he asked, holding it up.
“It’ll make it easier for me to sneak in with no questions asked, don’t you think?”
“I knew there was a reason I liked you, Rook.” He smiled easily at her.
“If you don’t want me calling out ‘The Viper’ when you make me come, you better start calling me Bianca when we’re alone,” she teased while starting to get dressed.
“Fair enough. Here you go…Bianca,” he laughed, handing the robe to her.
Chaos welcomed them. She didn’t know what she was looking at, only that she was being summoned to follow someone she didn’t know and everyone was running around. She looked around for a sign of him – his silly snake hat she teased him about, his large stature, the shape of his coat – anything that would indicate he was okay. She found nothing. Panic began to creep into the edge of her awareness, making her vision start to go hazy and her body start to overheat. Where was he?
Lucanis got outside first, then Davrin, and finally her. Neve was pissed - pacing, yelling, asking sarcastically how Treviso fared. Lucanis did his best to answer questions they all knew Neve didn’t really want answered - she wanted to rage, and they let her. Bianca saw Tarquin over Neve’s shoulder, glaring at her specifically. Ashur should be nearby, he was rarely out of Tarquin’s sight. Where was…
Her heart dropped. Ashur was laid out on a makeshift cot, holding his side. He had been looking at her, likely since the moment she stepped outside. He always did have a habit of finding her first – not that she ever minded to find those piercing blue eyes fixed on her. She felt the sting of tears, trying with all her might to blink them away while clenching her hands into fists to resist the urge to go to his side and take one of his in hers, to intertwine her fingers with his and kiss each one just as he did the last night they were together – Maker what was it, less than 24 hours ago? How quickly everything fell apart.
She found herself at his side anyway, barely listening as everything was explained. He held her eyes with his as she heard half-sentences. Minrathous destroyed, Venatori coup, claw to the gut. Blighted . That drew Davrin’s attention, and from the look on his face, she knew it was bad. Very bad. She couldn’t help the hot tear that slid down her cheek at that moment. She brought her hand up to wipe it away as quickly as she could, hopefully before anyone noticed. Hopefully before he noticed.
She felt like she was underwater – every sound muffled, the air thick around her. She couldn’t breathe. Just the night before, they had been laying in his bed talking about maybes , talking about after . She had gone through the eluvian to the Lighthouse with a smile on her face, as she always did after nights with him, but this one was different. This one felt like the start of…something.
And now that something was blighted and bloody in front of her. She noticed for the first time the webs of inky black that surrounded his eyes, the first sign of the sickness inside him. So much for no strings attached – she was wrapped in them and they grew ever and ever tighter, circling her neck and threatening to choke the life from her. Her breaths came quickly, shallow. This is my fault, this is my fault, this is my fault.
“This is your fault,” Tarquin’s voice cut through her haze clearly, a sword honed to injure. Her eyes snapped to him. She couldn’t say he had ever felt particularly strongly about her before, but looking at him in that moment she could only see hatred and anger.
“My fault?” she asked, her voice thick with both rage and sadness.
“This is all you. The risen gods, the blight, the dragon. Now the city has been lost to the Venatori…because of you. ”
She knew it wasn’t true. She knew she had an impossible choice - Treviso or Minrathous. Home or him. She would always lose one way or the other. Still, his words struck true, right to the heart, and she was in danger of bleeding out in front of all of them. She turned away from the group, unwilling to let them see the shake in her hands and the unshed tears in her eyes. It did not deter Tarquin, who moved in front of her, unwilling to let her hide from this confrontation.
“He would have been fine if he hadn’t been… distracted .” He said quietly, as though he knew how dangerous voicing this accusation was. It did not ease the disdain dripping from each word he pointed directly at her, every syllable a stab into her heart. She was back in Treviso, a small child fresh from the slaver, being tortured with dulled knives so she would learn the pain her contracts would know as their final breaths left their bodies. “The last thing he looked at before we left to fight was that damned eluvian, hoping you would come through.”
She was wrong. This was worse than torture.
“Everything we’ve worked so hard for,” he said, glancing at The Viper before turning his ire solely on her once more, “all of our plans, our goals, the changes we were going to make…all ruined – because of you.” This is my fault, this is my fault, this is my fault . The refrain kept running through her head, louder and louder and louder until she wanted to double over and cover her ears in an attempt to block out everything. What did he expect her to do? She wasn’t a savior, she wasn’t a herald, she wasn’t a champion, she wasn’t a hero. She was someone who pissed off her superiors and got sent on a wild elven god chase across Thedas.
She barely felt it, the slightest graze of a finger against her own, almost missed at the edge of her perception. She had involuntarily backed up against the cot while Tarquin lobbed his accusations and Ashur had stretched out the hand that wasn’t covering his wound. He wouldn’t know it, but just this small act of connection, of mercy, saved her from collapsing in on herself. She felt the dulled blade of Tarquin’s claims retract from her heart. She could begin to breathe once more.
“Enough, Tarquin,” he said. His voice still carried the tone of command in it, though Bianca could tell he was weak and straining. He needed rest. He didn’t need to watch whatever this was. “I have access to magic that will slow this. It will give me…time. This isn’t on Rook. It is what it is.”
She looked at him and she was back in that bedroom, lying next to him while he played with her curls. She had wished they had been in a different world and he convinced her that the world they were in now was the only one that brought them together. She would give it up for him to remain as he was - no rattling breaths, no blight, no blood spilling out between the creases of his fingers when he coughed.
“This is not my fault,” she said quietly, unsure if it was meant for others to hear or only for herself. Ashur’s finger grazed her once more, a show of support meant only for the two of them.
“Of course you’d say that – you’re from Treviso, why should Minrathous matter to you? I don’t know what I expected.” Neve muttered.
She lost it.
“This is not my fault. I am sorry that this happened to Minrathous. Truly. But Treviso is my home ,” she said, looking directly at Ashur, not sure if it was to make him understand or to apologize or something else entirely. Her composure finally broke just as her voice did. Grief filled her as she looked around at the injured, the dead, the destroyed homes, the destroyed futures. Grief for friends, families, lovers. Grief for herself, grief for Ashur. Grief for potential. The strings they were so desperate to avoid attaching to themselves had felt like they had become thicker, living things – weights that strangled and threatened to drag her underground just moments ago. They were brittle now, one wrong move and they would snap. She should let them, she thought. She should free both of them from this. No more distractions. An endless emptiness clawed through her at the thought of cutting off all ties to Ashur, never feeling his warm hands on her again, never feeling his mouth on her neck or his breath on her ear. Never seeing the burdens lifted from him for just a moment when he shuddered into her and called out her name. It was too much to think about, a bottomless pit of sadness threatened to swallow her up right then and there.
She cleared her throat, taking a couple breaths before turning her furious gaze to Neve before landing on Tarquin. “ My home. Treviso doesn’t have a floating palace, it doesn’t have an army, it doesn’t have The Viper, or Tarquin, or Neve Gallus. It has houses of assassins who are hell bent on murdering each other in claims for power. Oh, and an occupation of Antaam. That’s it . If you want to blame someone, blame Solas. Blame Ghilan’nain. Blame Elgar’nan. But do not blame me. Do not think this is easy for me. I will remember this for the rest of my life.”
A pause. She did not break eye contact with Tarquin.
“Tensions are clearly high here. You should go back to the Lighthouse. I’m staying here for a while to help sort out this mess,” Neve said, dismissing them quickly.
Bianca gave one last look to Ashur before turning to go back through the eluvian. She felt his eyes on her as she walked away from him, hoping it wouldn’t be the last time she saw him.
She sat in her room and cried the rest of the night.
“You’re not sleeping,” Lucanis said, sitting down next to her at the dining table before handing her a large mug of coffee.
Bianca huffed into her drink. “You’re one to talk.”
“I am well-equipped to recognize the signs,” he smiled, rotating his mug into his hands. “Still thinking about the other night?”
That was an understatement. It had been three days since they last traveled through the eluvian, leaving Neve and Dock Town behind. Leaving Ashur behind. She still didn’t know how he was – there hadn’t been any communication from anyone. Every time she tried to sleep, all she could see was his eyes, piercing and icy, surrounded by black. All she could hear was the slow drip, drip, drip of blood from his cot to the ground. All she could feel was the tip of his finger against hers.
So no, she wasn’t sleeping. She hummed into her cup and nodded.
“Rook, you have to know you are not responsible for what happened in Minrathous. To think the same could have happened to Treviso…well, I for one am glad you were there. And I know Teia and Viago couldn’t be more grateful. I don’t think I heard Viago call you an idiot once,” he laughed, staring into his cup. He paused, tilting his head slightly. “Spite is also glad you were there.”
“Well, at least someone was. And I know. It’s just…a lot to take in. The stakes feel so much more real now.” The scale of the loss hadn’t quite hit her yet, and wouldn’t until she could see for herself without the chaos. So many lost their lives and even more were injured, their livelihoods gone in an instant. It was no longer a hypothetical ‘when the gods attack’ – they did, and Bianca’s team was not ready for it, not in the slightest.
The two sat there in amiable silence for a long while, drinking their cups of coffee in the earliest hours of the morning, the only ones stirring in their little corner of The Fade. It was nice to just sit with someone and not have to talk, or plan, or lead. It was a little odd for her to be doing that with the grandson and presumed heir to the First Talon, she could admit that. What a funny turn her life had taken. She was a nobody, an orphaned elven slave child purchased by the Crows to pad their numbers. She was disposable, a thorn in the side of her house, sent away at the first chance. Now, she was joking with Lucanis Dellamorte, fighting elven gods, and realizing too late she had feelings for the leader of the Shadow Dragons, who was either fighting for his life or dead. If she wasn’t so anxious, she would laugh.
“I’m not asking her, leave me alone,” she heard Lucanis mutter to himself. Spite must be causing trouble in his head. Again.
“Ask me what?”
He sighed, pushing his now empty mug away from him and turning to her. This felt serious – based on the look on his face, Bianca wished she had pretended she hadn’t heard him. She took another drink to avoid eye contact.
“Did you have…something with The Viper?” he asked. She choked on her coffee, her eyes widening for a second before schooling her face back to neutrality, just as she was trained. They had been so careful, or so she thought. She knew everyone’s schedules by heart, she only went through the eluvian when everyone should have been asleep… Oh .
“I’m a highly skilled assassin, Rook. I know how to be places and not be seen. Besides, it was Spite who put it together first. The last job we had together in Minrathous…he said you and The Viper smelled like each other.” Bianca’s mind wandered – she knew exactly the day he was speaking of. They had met up later than usual and Ashur was frustrated from a hard day and insatiable. She tried to suppress a smile into her mug as she remembered him laying her back on his desk, feasting on her as if she were the finest meal before taking her so hard she thought the desk may break. She didn’t come back through the eluvian until two hours before they had to leave to go back to Dock Town and winced at all the ladders they ended up climbing that day.
“I was in the library the other night when you hurried down the stairs wearing Shadow Dragon robes, which was strange to me, because you only like tight fitted leather, and you only wear Crow colors,” Lucanis continued. “Though, I couldn’t confirm anything until we went to Dock Town after Treviso.”
“How would that confirm anything? All that happened was me getting yelled at by Neve and Tarquin over something they think I could have changed the outcome of.”
He gave her a half smile to go with her half-truth.
“The Viper was looking for you, that night. I saw his eyes go straight to the door once he saw me, waiting for you to cross through. I saw you move to him without realizing it. I saw the way you two looked at each other. I saw the way he reached out to comfort you in the smallest of ways,” he said, getting up to grab the coffee pot, refilling both of their mugs. “It was obvious, once I thought to look.”
Well, shit.
“You ever think about leaving the assassin business behind and starting a detective agency with Neve?” she asked. “Seems you have a natural gift.”
“I’m surprised she didn’t already know,” he said, sitting back beside her. She liked this, being friendly with Lucanis. She felt like she hadn’t had a friend in so long, if she ever really had one. She just wanted someone on her side.
“If she does, she hasn’t mentioned anything and I don’t think I’d ever hear the end of it once she started. Tarquin definitely had it figured out. I’m not sure it really even matters anymore. Knowing what Davrin has told me about the blight…The Viper is likely already dead, or something close to it.” She blinked back tears. If he was dead, and that was the last time she ever saw him…Maker, what was she doing? They had only been sleeping together for a little over a month. There had been one discussion of maybe, after, possibly, potentially , but it wasn’t like they were a committed couple or anything. So why did it feel like she was dangerously close to losing so much? Why did the backs of her eyes sting, why couldn’t she sleep, why could she only think about how he tried to comfort her when he was bleeding out?
Get it together, Bianca .
“Anyway, we weren’t really serious or anything. It was just fun, a way to blow off steam a few times a week. He understood the pressures of leading a team and the stakes involved,” she shrugged.
Lucanis nodded, offering her another half-smile to go with her new half-truth.
“Just some fun,” she repeated. Was she trying to convince him, or herself? “I should probably go get the day started. Thanks for the coffee. And the talk. I really needed it.”
“Anytime, Rook. Crows stick together. Before I forget, I was tidying up in the library a few hours ago and noticed some new missives on the table. They must have come in overnight. I must admit I’m still not sure how we get messages in The Fade.”
“You and me both. Thanks, Lucanis.”
She walked from the kitchen to the library, hugging Assan on her way as was her habit whenever she passed him. As expected, she saw two missives on the table to the side of the seating area. One was in familiar handwriting, a note from Neve saying she would be gone for a while longer to check on her contacts, friends, people she cared about. Bianca wondered what it would be like when she returned. She understood Neve’s feelings completely, and would have felt the same if she were in her shoes. Still, she hoped Neve would be able to understand Bianca’s reasoning – she didn’t abandon Minrathous, she sent Bellara and Harding there. They were fierce and capable and cared for Neve just as much as she did. So why was all Neve’s anger directed at her? She sighed and set down the letter, reaching for the other one. Short, succinct, with handwriting she didn’t recognize.
B – meet me. tonight. same time, same place. – A
The paper fluttered out of her hand to the floor. He was alive.