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Joints in her fingers cracking as she wrings her hands over and over, breathing slow and deep an attempt to starve off the panic building in her chest. Rook should be happy; she is ecstatically so. She’d just returned from a romantic evening with Emmrich in the Necropolis, sharing an exquisite meal fit for royalty. Rook had confessed that she had never been with someone romantically that he was her first. Emmrich for a moment looked taken a back but a gentle smile followed, he told her they could go as slowly as she liked, there was no need to rush. His acceptance made her giddy and a short walk around the gardens ended with a sweet kiss.
She should be on cloud nine, but she finds herself in her room feeling guilty.
When she told Emmrich that she’d never been with someone romantically it was the truth. Never been on a date, never been wined and dined or handled in such a gentle way like a cherished object. Soft touches are a rarity in life for a Crow; Rook is used to the harshness that comes with it.
Rook harbours a secret keeps it hidden under lock and key in her mind; the secret of the dark figure that forced her down to her knees and stole her purity, ripped her insides with sadistic glee and left her on the cold wet floor, broken. She had no idea how long she’d laid there alone and afraid unsure if her attacker would return.
Viago was waiting for her for the intel she had been sent out to gather, a fledgling at the time her training had begun only a year ago, only recently being sent out on actual assignments. Viago was furious when she finally turned up, he was relentless with his verbal assault and Rook had stood there and took it. She couldn’t tell him; the embarrassment was too much. It was shameful that a crow had let someone sneak up on them, it was her job to become one with the shadows; to remain undetected and she couldn’t even do that. It was enough to have her crow status stripped and kicked out of House De Riva. If Viago was paying more attention he’d see the angry red marks that littered her body, fingertip shaped marks around her throat and the welts around her wrists where she’d been held with a punishing grip. Rook said nothing when he asked for an explanation, infuriated by her lack of response he turned around and dismissed her. He spared her not even a glance but if he did, he wouldn’t have missed the limp in her step and the crimson stain blooming on her pants.
Waiting for the dead of the night to sneak her way to the bath house, letting out a breath when she found it empty. It’s a slow process stripping out of her clothes. When she pulls her underwear down, they’re stained with her blood and the stranger’s seed. She isn’t stupid, Rook knows the consequences that can come of this. Her stomach lurches violently as she throws up the contents of her stomach and she doesn’t stop until her lungs burn and ribs ache from dry heaving. Rook scrubbed her body raw until her arms ached, and the water scorched her skin. No matter how much soap and scented oils she used, the smell of him wouldn’t leave it was cemented in the pores of her skin.
Mind numb she sits in the water until it turns frigid.
In the morning, she goes to the apothecary, hood pulled over her head as far as it can go to conceal her identity. Face burning with embarrassment as she explains to the woman at the counter that she needs something that will stop conception. Without judgement the woman pulls out a potion of Silphium, explains the potential side effects and hands it to her. Drinking it all in one go she cringes at the bitter after taste and now she had to wait to see if it worked.
Throwing herself into training, Viago is keeping a close eye on her. She keeps a low profile, not wanting to draw any unnecessary attention. It works Viago slowly stops breathing down her neck and it seems that everything starts going back to normality.
That’s until a furious Viago bursts into her room.
“Want to tell me what happened that night?”
Time halts.
He knows, he knows, he knows!
‘’Nothing.’’ It’s a weak denial and she knows it and with the look on Viago’s face he doesn’t believe her.
‘’So, the trip to the apothecary and the Silphium was nothing?’’ His head cocking to the side, ‘’What? You didn’t think I’d investigate this?’’
Again, when she doesn’t answer it pushes Viago over the edge and she finds herself at the receiving end of another verbal assault. He couldn’t believe that she had jeopardised a whole operation for a quick fuck, asking if she was proud of herself. Once again, she sits and takes it, she already blamed herself for what took place; why not accept his blame as well?
‘’This stays between us; I’m not doing this for you.’’ He spits before taking a moment to catch his breath. He turns on his heel to leave but not before twisting the knife in her already shattered heart.
‘’You bring shame on House De Riva.’’
She feels numb again, out of tune with her emotions; she feels nothing but absolute emptiness. It’s strange, she thinks; there hasn’t been a single tear shed. Disconnected from her mind and body, she feels like an outsider looking in. Her body doesn’t feel like hers anymore, it feels dirty.
Desecrated.
It’s clear that this event is what starts her downfall, when she does finally become a full fledged Crow. Her risk taking behaviours increase, the contracts she takes are dangerous; ones that she couldn’t possibly survive. She’s not careful about them either but yet she seems to pull through each time. The relationship between her and Viago deteriorates and it was common place to find them exchanging verbal blows.
Viago thinks she has a death wish.
It’s not a wish, it’s a promise.
She wants to die; doing what she’s worked so hard for, then maybe she can claim some of her lost honour back.
It’s funny how her last death charge is what saves her, a patrol of Antaam herding captives. She didn’t even think, just leaped into action. She saved lives that day but the disappointment that she didn’t meet her bitter end was palpable. Unknowingly she had compromised a larger Crow operation. Her superiors were incensed and punished her accordingly. She’s sidelined and forced out of Antiva.
On the road she meets one of the captives she saved. Varric, the man who undoubtably saved her life.
Rook shakes her head a feeble attempt to push back the memories, it was years ago; it shouldn’t affect her as much as it did. Rook had spend many years lying to herself, shying away from relationships; starving herself of the loving touch of another. She was far to damaged no matter how good of a facade she put on, it wouldn’t be long before the cracks of her broken psyche would start to show.
If she stayed alone no one could take the opportunity to harm her again.
But, Emmrich appeared.
And he turned her world upside down.
Older, distinguished with an air of authority – a senior Mourn watcher.
A professor she expected for him to be harsh and critical of almost everything. Instead, he was softly spoken, gentle and his presence kept her calm. He respected her; not because he had to but because he wanted to. He indulged her when she had questions about his work, his patience unmatched. Rook would watch how he interacted with Manfred. Emmrich is an incredibly powerful necromancer, it would have been very easy for him to treat the spirit of curiosity as nothing more than an object to do his bidding. Instead, he treated the spirit as if he was human, teaching and nurturing him as a father would his own child.
It was safe to be around him, and it didn’t take long for her to fall head over heels for him.
Their relationship new and blossoming and she was already building the foundation on a lie. How would he react if he found out that she hadn’t told him the truth? But, what would he think when she told him what happened? It made her nauseous thinking about it.
She needs to confess.
No matter how painful it might be, no matter if he walks away from her. He deserves to learn of her failings – her sins.
Outside the door to his room her hand outstretched to knock, hovering in the air. She pauses, there is no going back after this and with a deep breath she knocks. A muffled permission to enter comes from within and she follows the voice inside. Emmrich is sat at his desk, the flicker of candlelight casts a hue against his features, he looks handsome in such lighting. He glances up and his face fills with warmth when he looks at her, but it quickly shifts to a look of concern. Emmrich stands and makes his way towards her, resting his palm against her forehead.
‘’My dear you look unwell, it wasn’t the food was it?’’
Savouring the warmth of his hands for a brief moment, looking up at him; the deep look of worry in his eyes almost brings her to tears. She converts this moment to a memory she will hold dear. Sensing her distress Emmrich cradles her face in his hands; hers come up to wrap gently around his wrists.
‘’My darling girl, what ever is the matter?’’
He guides them over to the couch and Rook sits with her legs crossed, her hands once again held tightly together. “I need to tell you something,” She looks down at her clenched hands knuckles turning white, “But I’m afraid you’ll not look at me in the same light.”
The air in the room changes as Emmrich senses the seriousness of the conversation. His hand slides over hers gently prying them apart, he keeps it there; lets her trace her fingers over the rings. He waits patiently, watching her facial expressions, the pinch of her brow, how her eyes dart back and forth, her mouth opening before closing again.
“When I said I’d never been with anyone, I wasn’t entirely telling the truth.”
Emmrich lets out a breath, almost wanting to chuckle at how his little darling had worked herself up over something so trivial. The relief he feels is short lived as the next words out of her mouth steals the air from his lungs.
“Years ago, I was doing recon on a target.” She begins, “I was in an alley keeping an eye out, when I was grabbed from behind.”
Like the flooded canals of Treviso, the words pour from her mouth an overflow of a long-kept secret. She spares no details. The fact that she hadn’t fought back and allowed him to do what he did. How she bled for days after, spent weeks worrying about being possibly pregnant and the relief when she wasn’t. Viago’s fury and sheer disappointment, how he had reduced her to a common whore. The deep shame and embarrassment. How she had sought death around every corner. Words coming out chocked as she tries to breath, she doesn’t realise she’s crying until she is pulled into Emmrich’s arms, he gently shushes her.
The lock on her emotions ruptures and she wails; loud and anguished.
It was gut wrenching to see her like this, all he could do was embrace her and let the torrent of tears soak his shirt. Her hands clutching at him as she near suffocates with each breath. He holds her tighter as his body shakes from the force of her sobs, his hand holding the back of her head, he tries to ground her, and he can’t help that a few of his own tears escape.
She lets the tears fall, each one washing away a little bit of the pain she’d been holding onto all these years. Grieving for the person she used to be, before that monster had stolen her away.
‘’It’s my fault,’’ It comes out as a harsh croak, ‘’If I had – ‘’
‘’No,’’ Emmrich interrupts he coaxes her to look at him once again his hands cradle her face, pushing the hair out of her face. ‘’It is not your fault.’’
Rook tries to shake out of his hold, but he doesn’t let her.
‘’The blame is not yours to carry my love, that sorry excuse of a man had no right to put his hands on you.’’
As her sobs subsided, she was left with a lingering headache and a rawness in her throat. But amidst the physical discomfort, she felt a strange sense of relief, felt a lightness she hadn’t felt in a long time.
Emmrich takes care when putting Rook back together, her emotions like an open nerve; he doesn’t stray too far from her side; leaving for a moment to make tea; making it to her liking and adding a spoonful of honey to ease the soreness of her throat, he brings a bowl of warm water and a flannel. Softly he cleans her face, wiping away the snot and tears. She curls up in his lap once again and they sit in a comfortable silence, the only sound to be heard comes from her sipping the tea.
He can’t help the bubble of anger that simmers within; he’s never been a man of violence, but he prays to never come across the man that cause her suffering.
‘’I’ve never told anyone before,’’ She delicately speaks not wanted to disrupt the soothing calm around them, ‘’I never wanted to let people see me so broken.’’
Emmrich places a kiss on the crown of her head his lips lingering there, ‘’You are not broken dearest, bruised, yes. But, not broken.’’
She looks up at him, eyes reddened and puffy from tears; still even like this she is the most beautiful woman he’s laid his eyes on. He can’t fathom how he managed to get her attention, but he doesn’t question it in the slightest.
‘’Indomitable is how I see you, unpredictable in the best of ways and most importantly of all; a survivor.’’
Survivor.
She’d never seen herself like that, frankly she hadn’t seen herself in years; now it’s time to let go of all the guilt she’d carried. To break down the walls and soothe the frightened girl that still lives within, to let go of the crushing guilt, show her the kindness that the world can offer, to feel the love of another.
‘’I feel safe with you.’’
A warmth blooms in Emmrich’s heart; this was more than a confession of love, she had come to him unknowing how this would go, gone against her judgement to remain silent. Shown him the parts of her that she had longed to keep hidden, she had put her trust in him, opened herself up to the potential of more judgement and disappoint. He knows that the events of that night will never fully leave, their will be times that she remembers, and the fear will come back, and she’ll fall.
She’ll never be alone as he will catch her every time.
‘’You’ll be safe with me always, my love.’’