Chapter Text
The streets of Nevarra City were almost as beautiful as Rook remembered them. The roads that were usually even and clean had holes and bumps, and the statues of Dragon Hunters and other Nevarran heroes that decorated the city were in the worst shape Rook had ever seen them. A few seemed fine, but most were tilted or damaged in some way, hand missing here, a nose missing there.
Most buildings in the city had some kind of spire that reached upwards, but Rook could see that many of them had snapped off during the blight. The Nevarra City Chantry had a bell tower that loomed higher than almost everything else. It’s spire still stood and the bell's deep clangs announcing the hour confirmed that the church was in fine operation. As impressive as the tower was, it still paled compared to Requiem Palace. Built from deep gray stone, the palace rose like the crown jewel of the kingdom, its sharp towers piercing the heavens, not a single spire missing.
At first, no one spoke in the carriage. Though the city was not ravaged to nearly the extent of others, it disturbed Rook to see it out of sorts. Not to mention the precariousness of the Mourn Watch's position that was still sinking into Rook's mind. The silence was only broken by the occasional crack of the skeleton servant's whip, ushering the undead horses along.
"So," Davrin said, his eyes darting back and forth between Rook and Emmrich. "What's the plan?" Rook glanced at him, then turned her face back towards the window.
"You heard Myrna. We'll hear what the request is, see what there is to see, then report back to her and Vorgoth," she said. Rook didn't notice Davrin nod as she watched the palace grow closer and closer. More silence. The three teammates swayed with the bumps and turns of their ride, and Assan followed them high in the air.
"Darling," Emmrich said, his voice halting. "Don't fret. The Mourn Watch has survived many a political dispute."
"Emmrich," Rook turned to look at him. The worried crease between his eyes told her that he was also fretting. "The last time I got involved in anything even somewhat political, I killed an undead noble and was sent away. This might affect the entire Mourn Watch; I can't mess it up."
"Hey," said Davrin, perking up. "I know that story. Don't you keep his ashes in a jar?"
"Yeah," Rook agreed. "It's in my room."
"Why do you do that?" asked Davrin, his mouth tipped up in a show of apparent bemusement. Rook shrugged.
"He was causing problems," Rook paused, remembering the near civil war between the undead in the Grand Necropolis. "So, I took care of it."
"Sure." Davrin tilted his head and pressed Rook further. "But that doesn't explain why you keep their ashes in your room." Rook leaned back against her seat and pondered what Davrin was asking her.
"Well, he deserved it," Rook said casually. Despite himself, Emmrich let out a brief bark of a laugh. He’d also had had dealings with the undead noble she was speaking about. "But, more than that," her voice became serious. "It's a reminder. Decisions have consequences, and I take that seriously."
"No one doubts that you do," Emmrich said plainly, covering Rook's hand with his own. They were close to their destination now.
Davrin stuck his head out the carriage window and called for Assan to land as the carriage slowed, approaching a tall wrought iron gate with two enormous decorative skeleton statues on either side. Assan landed and trotted next to the carriage, his head darting about curiously. Two skeleton servants unlocked and dragged the gate doors open, the hinges squealing loudly.
"You would think they would oil those more often," Emmrich said, shaking his head disapprovingly.
The Requiem Palace's grounds were immaculate, with so many flowers Rook couldn't recognize them all. She could recognize lilac trees with their sprays of delicate purple flowers, Ebonspire Lily's with their velvety black petals, and her favorite, Shroud's Kiss. The delicate white flowers almost glowed compared to the flowers around them. Past the gardens was the edge of a wood, with lush thick trees and birds chirping. She glanced at Emmrich, whose face was lit up like a child given their favorite candy.
"I took a tour of the palace grounds once," he said. "Years ago. It seems they've added much more variety to their gardens."
"Maybe they'll let us take a look." Rook offered. Emmrich sighed wistfully.
"Perhaps one day," he tilted his head towards Rook, struggling to rip his eyes away from the botanists' delight they were passing by. "Now is not really the time."
The doors of Requiem Palace were enormous and black with substantial golden handles. Above the colossal double doors, a massive stained-glass rose window depicted a dragon battle. Its vibrant colors were complimented by the green eternal torches that lined the outer walls, their flames flickering faintly in the light breeze. An ancient Navarran banner draped from the ramparts, its sigils weathered from time.
A man in a long purple coat, so deep it was almost black, was there to greet them as the carriage pulled over. Rook, not bothering to wait for the skeleton driver to climb down and open the door, swung the carriage open and hopped down, her boots making a heavy thud as she landed. Davrin followed as equally ungraceful. Lighter on his feet, Emmrich stepped down carefully, keeping an air of refinement.
"Greetings, highly esteemed members of the Veilguard," the man said, taking a deep bow. A dark lock of hair fell into his eyes as he bowed, which he deftly smoothed back into place as he rose. "First Advisor Cyris Myrcanth at your service."
"First Advisor," Emmrich said, his tone mildly surprised, "that is quite the accomplishment at your age."
"Yes," Advisor Myrcanth agreed. His black and gold-lined eyes scanned Emmrich, assessing him. It reminded Rook of how a cat regards a mouse that couldn't be bothered to give chase. "Are you the head of the Veilguard, then?"
"No," Rook said bluntly. She stepped forward and gave the First Advisor a slight bow, not bothering to even fake a smile towards him. "Watcher Rook Ingellvar at your service."
"Watcher?" Advisor Myrcanth's left eyebrow raised. "That explains where the Mourn Watch went during the peak of the blight."
"Indeed, the Mourn Watch was kind enough to aid us in defeating corrupt Dalish gods. Who were spreading the blight." Rook's jaw clenched.
"To which we are ever grateful for the kingdom of Nevarra for supporting," Emmrich added, his face the perfect picture of calm and gratitude. Following his example, Rook managed to muster a look somewhat parallel to thankfulness.
“This is Watcher Professor Emmrich Volkarin.” Rook gestured towards Emmrich. "Whom I do assume you are already familiar with. Considering it was he who you delivered the summons to." She tried to keep herself from sounding too disdainful.
“Of course; what a treat to meet you in the flesh,” Advisor Myrcanth said.
“And this is Davrin. A Grey Warden commander,” Rook said, motioning to Davrin. “And his griffon companion, Assan.”
“Oh my,” said the First Advisor, flashing a toothy smile. “What a fascinating group.” He leaned down, looking directly into Assan’s eyes. “And here I was under the presumption that griffons were extinct.” Assan made a loud chirp and Myrcanth’s grin grew wider. “Yes, I suppose life is full of surprises.”
Rook cleared her throat loudly, and the First Advisor straightened himself and swept his hand overdramatically towards the palace doors.
“Please,” he said. “Follow me.” The four of them followed. “Before you are to meet with the King, I shall give you a tour of Requiem Palace,” Myrcanth said, his voice echoing through the huge entry hall.
“That won’t be necessary,” Rook said quickly. “We have other pressing matters and need to meet as soon as possible.”
First Advisor Myrcanth stopped in his tracks so quickly Rook almost ran into him. He turned to her, his mouth a deep frown.
“Watcher Rook,” he said, “I don’t know how it is done in the Veilguard, but you are here, in Nevarra.” His eyes traveled to her horns; his lips pressed together. “And though you are not native to these lands, you are familiar with them. A tour to guests is customary.”
A flame of hot rage ignited in Rooks chest. Not a native? She could have slapped him. Her eyes darted quickly back to Emmrich, who gave one barely perceptible head shake. She looked back into Advisor Myrcanth’s eyes, hoping he could see her fury despite the fake smile she put on.
“Of course,” she said politely. “Lead on. Please.”
And so, the tour began. Rook tried to keep herself from seething, but it was difficult. Requiem Palace was magnificent. The library was a scholar’s paradise; Rook could see volumes and scrolls that she had never dared dream would be in arm’s reach. If she wasn’t so upset, she could have gotten drunk on the scent of the parchment and ink. Emmrich, ever the appreciator of art, made compliments on the mahogany shelves and high arched stain glass windows. She hoped his polite enthusiasm was enough to make up for her stony silence.
When they got to the throne room, Rook was mildly disappointed that the King was not there. She had hoped that perhaps she could have gotten a word in with him and gotten down to business. But there was no king, only an empty ornate gold throne with a tall back inlaid with a mosaic of silver and jet, resembling the shape of the royal Nevarran sigil, a skull with a royal crown on its head. To Rook, the sigil was silly. Death was the great equalizer. But nobles never really saw it that way.
“And here,” the First Advisor said as they reached a long hall with many rooms. “Is where you will be staying the night.”
“Pardon?” Rook asked, not bothering to monitor her tone.
“This is where you’ll be staying tonight,” the Advisor repeated, his smile unchanged by her questioning.
“I am afraid what Rook means,” Emmrich interjected. “Is that we did not plan for staying. We were under the impression that the meeting with the king would occur today.”
“Ah,” said First Advisor Myrcanth, nodding solemnly. “I see the confusion. Well, had you come as soon as the letter had been delivered that would have been possible. Unfortunately, tonight is the first night of autumn.”
Rook closed her eyes and a gritted her teeth. She opened them, looked at Davrin who’s look of confusion was as plain as her own frustration.
“It’s the night of Ancestral Pageants,” she told him. “People put fancy cloth over the statues and hire actors to act out the scenes from the life of whoever the statue represents.”
“It’s a does make for a very lively night.” Emmrich said, ever positive.
“So, you see,” Myrcanth said, bowing his head in contrition. “The King is indisposed with preparations. But, if you would be so kind as to attend as his honored guests, he would be grateful.”
“We don’t have any clothes for such an occasion.” Rook said, the desperation in her voice was only slightly detectable. Myrcanth waved his hand.
“Watcher Rook, you are in the Requiem Palace. There is nothing we cannot do to accommodate our guests.”
“I see,” Rook said, her mind raced to think of any excuse, anything that could get them out of here safely. “Are you sure having the pageants is a good idea? Many of the city seems to be in disrepair, as do the statues.”
First Advisor Myrcanth gave Rook a tight smile, “The king believes that the people need something joyous to rally around.” He cleared his throat and gestured towards the rooms again. “Pick any room you want; it is early so other guests have not arrived yet. The festivities will begin in the gardens at eight. Notify any of the staff if you are in need of anything. You may roam the grounds as you wish, but please do not interfere with the celebration preparations. Now please excuse me for I have other duties to attend to.”
Before Rook could say anything else or try to protest one last time, Myrcanth was gone, the tail of his long coat flapping behind him. For a moment, everyone stood in the hall, not sure what to do next.
“Well.” Davrin looked directly at Rook, his face a mixture of surprise and bemusement. “They’re using us as props for their party.”
Rook ran her hand through her hair, shaking her head.
“Yup,” she agreed, her voice flat.
“I suppose there is no greater show of power and influence than having god-killers as guests of your personal celebration.” Emmrich conceded, his hands pressed together. “Though I must admit, the thought of getting the chance to peruse the library does excite me.”
“Alright then,” Davrin said, already unstrapping his pauldrons and heading to the closest room. “I am going to take Assan to the woods back there to dig for truffles while you all settle in.” Assan squealed at the mention of his favorite snack.
“Be back to your room by five. We’ve got to meet before the party.” Rook said. Davrin nodded, his left pauldron already off his shoulder and in his hand.
“Understood,” he said before closing the intricately carved door behind him. As soon as Davrin’s door closed, Rook turned to Emmrich and gave him an impish grin.
“So,” she said, lowering her voice. “Which room is ours?” Rook looked up at Emmrich through her eyelashes and batted them at him. Emmrich’s face flushed, which Rook relished the sight of.
“Really, Rook,” Emmrich said, making his way to room across from Davrin’s. Rook followed, closing the door behind her. “I do not comprehend how you can think of that right now.”
Rook rolled her eyes and leaned her back against the door, watching Emmrich take in the luxury of the room. The only thing Rook had her eye on was the enormous four poster bed with silk sheets and velvet curtains. It had been a while since that night he had made love to her in a sarcophagus, she wondered how a bed would feel. She brushed away the thought and pulled herself together.
“Emmrich,” she said, becoming serious. “I’m worried about the Mourn Watch too.” She walked towards him, gently grabbing his face with both hands, turning his gaze towards her. “This is an opportunity for us to do some investigating. See what’s up. I won’t let anything happen to the Mourn Watch.” She paused and gave him a gentle peck on the lips before continuing. “The Mourn Watch raised us. It’s home. We’ll protect it.”
She wished desperately that he would trust her. The Mourn Watch was just as important to her as it was to him. She didn’t want to see it disappear just as much as him.
“Of course, my dear,” Emmrich said. He reached up and removed Rook’s hands, giving them a squeeze of affection before releasing them. “This is such an odd circumstance; I cannot help but worry.” He sat down on the edge of the bed, his face lost in thought. Rook hesitated, watching him. He is so dashing, it’s devastating. She thought despite herself, her mind drawing up images of them lying naked together under the expensive sheets.
"Nobles are doing what they do best," Rook assured him. "Showing off. Besides, if something more is going on, we'll find out. Together."
Emmrich's face relaxed a little, the worry lines around his eyes fading.
"Agreed. Together we will," he assented, nodding and giving her a half smile.
"Good," Rook said, glad he believed in her. Another image of him, his mustache tickling her neck as he kissed her, flashed in her head. It had been a while. Her body felt achy, craving his touch. Still, she hesitated. Unsure of herself and if she should make a move. But when his eyes met hers, her desire for him overpowered her more sensible side. Fuck it. Rook thought.
"Now," her voice dropping low and silky smooth. "The trouble is, I can't focus with you over there, looking like that." Which was true. Once, Rook had told him that the way his waist appeared, thin and muscular, was slutty. He had turned beet red with embarrassment. And right now, she couldn't take her eyes off of it even if she wanted.
She slowly approached Emmrich, keeping eye contact with him while taking off her outer leather armor and dropping it to the ground. It landed with a thud, and Emmrich's face flushed again, which made Rook's heart race. Flustering the ever-knowledgeable Professor Emmrich Volkarin made her feel powerful and desirable. Like she was the only person in the world who could make him lose his composure.
She gracefully slid onto Emmrich's lap, facing him with his legs in between her thick thighs. She ran her fingers through his meticulously groomed salt and pepper hair before wrapping her arms around his neck and leaning back, putting her full weight onto him. She could feel through her pants that he was already half aroused. Her lips quirked up into a sultry smirk, and she cocked her head.
"What are we to do about that?" she asked. Emmrich opened his mouth, but nothing came out, so he closed it again. His eyes scanned her face as if searching for something. Rook leaned forward. She kissed him, making it a slow, deep kiss that made the heat between them grow. She buried her fingers in the hair at the back of his head and gave a firm, steady pull, breaking them apart. She gently massaged his neck where she had pulled, and he sighed. His hands ran up the length of her thighs. She could see from how he looked at her that his resolve to be professional and focus purely on the mission was waning.
"Darling," Emmrich said, his jeweled hands holding Rook by the waist. I'm unsure if-" Rook ground herself against his lap before he could say anything else. She worried that if he kept speaking, she'd lose to his ever-practical mind, and she would be left empty and yearning. He groaned, dropping his forehead onto Rook's shoulder, his fingers digging into her sides, the fabric of her tunic twisting.
"What were you saying?" Rook teased, twirling his hair in her fingers. Emmrich lifted his head and looked at her. She could see his eyes smoldering, his hesitance replaced with a hunger that made Rook shiver with anticipation.
"Darling," Emmrich said again, his voice low and slightly graveled. The sound of it made Rook burn. "You are exquisite chaos, and I intend to savor every moment."
In one swift move, he picked her up, her legs still wrapped around him and firmly placed her on the bed. Her back sank into the mattress, and Rook found herself biting her lip at his elegant strength. His eyes ran up and down her body. Drinking in the sight of her beneath him. His brown eyes, usually soft and warm, were complex and burning. Suddenly Rook realized that he had wanted this as much as she did. He just hid it better.
Emmrich slid his fingers underneath her tunic and began lifting it off Rook, who wiggled, assisting in its removal. Emmrich tossed the tunic without care onto the floor, his attention entirely on Rook. It thrilled her to see his ordinarily careful nature become freer. Replacing caution with passion.
Her breasts were strapped in a leather bandeau that tied at the front. Slowly, reverently, Emmrich untied it. Rook admired the skillfulness of his hands as he did so. Finally, the bandeau came free. His eyes feasted on the sight of her body, hands running along her curves.
"Ah," he breathed as though in awe of her. "Perfection."
Rook reached up and pulled on his shirt, forcing him down to her. She kissed him as if his lips were the only thing she needed for survival. Her hands fumbled with his shirt and vest buttons, desperate to free him from his clothes. He kissed her back, lightly nipping her bottom lip in a way that drove her wild. He gave a low chuckle as she clawed at the shirt even faster. Pulling away, he helped her undo the rest of his many buttons.
Finally, Emmrich's vest and shirt were open, and Rook couldn't keep her hands off him. The feel of his skin was intoxicating to her. Better and more potent than any lyrium potion. She wrapped her arms around him and brought him down again. He kissed her bare shoulders, murmuring quietly about how beautiful she was. She pressed herself against his hips and began to grind slowly. She could feel how hard he was. Emmrich moaned and buried his face into her neck, biting.
Emmrich slid his hand from her breast to her stomach, then lower, where he found her wet. He adeptly began rubbing her in a smooth circular motion that made Rook's toes curl. A moan escaped her lips, and her back arched. The spark within her stirred into a fire.
"Mmm, easy, darling," Emmrich whispered, giving her neck another nip. Then his mouth traveled down her neck to her collarbone. Then to her breast, pausing over her nipple while his hand continued to work the same pattern.
Rook rolled her eyes, and moaned again, admiring how expertly he knew how to please her. She could feel Emmrich's smile against her skin. His kissing continued downward, but then he paused and withdrew his hand, leaving her wanting more.
Rook, shaking with desperation, lifted her hips and unceremoniously began yanking down everything she still had on. Emmrich, ever the gentlemen, eagerly began to help. Then he positioned himself so his face was hovering above her, his face framed by her bare thighs. He glanced into Rook's eyes, a teasing smirk on his face when he saw her face red from desperation.
"Please," Rook panted, her body burning with desire. "Please."
That, apparently, was all Emmrich needed. His hands gripped Rooks's hips, gold rings digging into her soft flesh. His tongue licked her softly at first, then more and more rapidly. Rook closed her eyes and moaned with pleasure, one hand massaging Emmrich's scalp, the other gripping the silk bed sheets. Her legs shook from the pleasure of it. When he came up for air, they locked eyes. The sight of his normally perfect face messy with the wetness of her drove her crazy.
Rook sat up and pushed him back forcefully onto the bed. She needed him. Now. And she could tell from his own heavy breathing that he needed her, too. She undid his pants and yanked them down, revealing his erect penis. Rook wasted no time. She straddled him, not bothering to remove his pants entirely. Rook grasped his throbbing cock in her hands and stroked, relishing the deep groan and look of bliss on Emmerich's face. After a few moments, he grunted and pulled on Rook's hips, trying to guide her onto him.
"Ah, ah," Rook said, her voice husky. She leaned forward, preventing him from entering her, her breasts hovering above his face. Emmrich took one into his mouth, pulling down on her as if he was trying to convince her to give him what he wanted. A whimper escaped Rook's lips, but she still didn't relent. Instead, she grabbed a fistful of his hair and pulled his head back, forcing him to look at her.
"Tell me you love me," she ordered. For a moment, his face was one of complete surprise, but then he smiled tenderly and brushed some hair out of Rook's face as if he wanted to see her clearly.
"Dearest," he whispered. "I love you more than life itself."
As soon as those words left his mouth, Rook passionately thrust herself down onto him. When he filled her, it satisfied her in a way that nothing else ever had. Emmrich gasped, bucking under her. Rook began riding him lustfully. She was so slick with desire it made it easier to go faster and harder. That was what she wanted… no, needed to do. She needed to fuck him. Hard.
So she did, gathering speed as she went, savoring the rhythm of it. Emmrich cried out, eyes rolling back with pleasure. He raised his hips, shoving himself deeper into her; Rook held his waist for stability and ground against him harder. Her breasts bounced with every thrust.
Emmrich's breathing grew even more ragged. She could tell he was close to a climax, and she felt a surge of pride at the thought of being able to please him. Rook picked up the pace, and Emmrich moaned again. She enjoyed the sight of a sheen of sweat on his brow. He reached up, grabbed one of her breasts, and gave it a squeeze.
"Come on," Rook commanded as she rammed herself down onto him. "Show me what you can do, Professor."
Emmrich cried out. His fingers dug into her, and Rook could feel him throbbing inside of her as he finished. She could feel the warmth of his pleasure filling her, and it sent her over the edge. She didn't hold back her screams of satisfaction as she finished in turn, her muscles clenching against him inside of her. She trembled and moaned with each contraction.
They rode the waves of pleasure together until Rook collapsed on top of him, utterly spent. She could have spent the rest of the day there, laying on top of his chest. But duty called, and she wasn’t the type to shirk her responsibilities.
Before she rolled off him, Rook gave Emmrich a quick kiss.
“You are amazing,” she said, grinning. Emmrich laughed, sitting up and squeezing her thigh fondly.
“As are you, my dear. As are you.” He watched as she rummaged around in the large wardrobe in the corner of the room, finding a clean rag to wipe herself off with.
“Get dressed. Let’s take a peek at the library and see what else is around here,” she said, pulling on her clothing.
“Um,” Emmrich said, hesitantly as he buttoned himself back up.
“Yes?” Rook asked.
“Your vitaar is quite out of sorts.”
“Oh,” Rook reached up and touched her face, feeling smudges of paint where it shouldn’t be. “I have some backup paint in my pack. Let me just…”
“Wait here just one moment,” Emmrich said, finishing putting his crimson coat on. “You focus on getting dressed.” Without another word, Emmrich slipped out the door, closing it gently behind him.
Just as Rook was finishing lacing up her armor, he was back, a bowl of water in one hand and a rag and small mirror in the other. He placed the bowl on the nightstand next to the bed and dipped the rag in it, wringing out the excess water.
“Come here darling, sit on the bed.” Emmrich said, patting the mattress next to where he was standing. Rook obeyed, sitting down directly in front of him. “May I?” he asked, holding up the damp cloth. She nodded. He gently began wiping away her ruined vitaar, occasionally dipping the cloth in more water. He moved with care and focus, completely absorbed in his task. She sat for a while, enjoying the comfortable silence between them.
“So,” she said as Emmrich tilted her head to the left, wiping away paint on her cheek. “You love me then?” Her tone was casual, but the question made her light in the head. Emmrich paused. Then he tilted her head back toward him. He got down on his knees so that he was eye level with her, his hand still holding her chin.
“Yes,” he said with pure and frank honestness. “I meant what I said, Rook. I love you more than life itself.” It was Rooks turn to blush. She looked away, feeling silly that she had even asked.
Emmrich stood up and finished wiping off her paint. The calm silence resuming. When was finished, he handed Rook the mirror. Not a trace of paint left behind.
“Do you want to trying painting on my vitaar?” she asked, fishing her paint and brush from her pack and sitting back down again. “You can make it as fancy as you want, as long as the magic still works. I can show you the important bits. But I wouldn’t mind looking a little more elegant. We are going to a party after all.”
Emmrich gave her a wry smile. He took the brush from her and dipped it into the small pot of paint, “I would be delighted.”