𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘

If you wish to go in blind, please do so, but for anyone who wants to see all tags, ones that spoil the plot are hidden on the ao3 chapter. Also if you search the title, it will come up with a poem and that speaks for itself.

The walls were barely held together by vines that crisscrossed like stitches sewn by the haphazard hand of a drunken physician and the terrifying gleam of aged stone gargoyles glared at her from above as Rook stepped up the crumbling stairs. The manor was still beautiful, despite it's unkempt state. Multitudes of pots bloomed with more vibrancy than any of Nevarra's fine gardens. The scent was heady and sweet, and Rook couldn't help but take a deep breath as she came before the large front door. Her hand lifted the large brass knocker, letting it fall against the heavy wooden door with a large clang. The sound surprised a few nearby birds who fluttered away and resumed their perch on what looked like the door to a mausoleum.

She was about to ring it again when it opened to reveal a skeleton, each eye fitted with a large glittering emerald. It was holding a small tray with biscuits on it with one hand and it was wearing a small backpack that was strapped to it. She noted it was also wearing a small black bow tie and jacket, like a butler. It made a sound akin to steam hissing from a boiling kettle and opened the door even wider, inviting her to step inside the darkness of the crumbling manor. Slightly surprised, though not frightened of the strange creature, Rook stepped in.

"Um, I'm Rook. Ingellvar," said Rook. "I'm here about the assistant position with Professor Volkarin?" She rummaged in the skirts of her dress and pulled out a letter to wave it awkwardly. "I've been writing to the professor about his research."

The skeleton made another hissing sound and gestured for Rook to follow. She quickly placed her worn carpet bag on the ground as the odd servant scuttled away down the large hallway. Picking up her skirts, Rook caught up and followed the little skeleton as it hissed and clicked at her in a strange but oddly encouraging way as she trailed behind it. Her head swilled around trying to take in her surroundings though there was little time to take in anything except that the grandeur of the house inside was far more preserved than that of the facade as the skeleton servant hurried ahead. Rook's feet barely made any sound as she walked across richly coloured rugs, her head turning this way and that to try and remember every painting that adorned the high walls.

She was guided outside through another large oak door and back into the weak sunlight of the cold afternoon. The surrounding courtyard was packed with even more flora than the front of the house, flowers crept from their own pots to mingle with others while vines slithered about the gravel ground. There were plants she had never seen before and could not recognise, though Rook was certain that many of them would be unwise to touch. Carefully she stepped out, clutching her letter as she was gently ushered by the strange skeleton. To her left was an iron gate that barred entry to the high walls of a hedge maze, and in the distance she could hear the light trickle of a water fountain. She itched to explore but hopefully there would be time later. Rook's feet continued to crunch across the gravel as she followed the skeleton before it paused and made a motion that Rook understood for her to wait where she was. She watched as it bounded up a spiralling stone staircase that attached to another part of the old manor. A small sound came from one of the plants at the foot of the staircase next to her and she was surprised to see a small wisp, its tendrils drifting towards her cautiously. She had never seen a wisp outside of the Grand Necropolis before. It came so close to her that Rook didn't dare breathe for fear of scaring it away. One of the long ghostly tendrils reached out and touched her skin, it was a barely there sensation, like the memory of a kiss.

"Hello," said Rook with a small smile, "I'm Rook."

The wisp made a gentle tinkling sound but it was then cut short, the entity skittering away to hide within the flowers. "Ah, I see you've met one of the wisps!" came a joyous voice above.

Rook looked up and saw a man standing at the top of the stone staircase, his arms fulls of trailing vines which he passed to the little skeleton behind him before the both started to descend down the steps. When he was before Rook, she could see how tall and lean he was, his dark hair greying in places as was the neatly trimmed and shaped pencil moustache above his smiling lips. If Rook had to guess, she would have assumed him to be in his fifties, but she knew he was in his early sixties. Rook had not expected that Professor Emmrich Volkarin would be so fit. She had expected that a man inclined to being squirrelled away conducting research, and one so revered, to be perhaps squatter and rounder due to exorbitant Nevarran dinners. The man before her, despite the greying hair and lines on his face, appeared to be full of life and had the appearance of a lithe panther, very much not the jovial walrus she had imagined from the things her friend Bellara had told her.

"Professor Volkarin," he said pleasantly, and he had a lovely voice, thought Rook. Bellara had not mentioned anything about that. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Ingellvar."

She flushed a little and gently shook the hand he proffered towards her. "You too, Professor, and you can call me Rook," Rook said, letting his long fingers wrap around her hand, the jewellery he wore cool against her skin. "Most people do."

"Rook?" he said, a small smile on his face. "As in the chess piece?"

"No," said Rook, "the bird."

He nodded with understanding and his face unfurled with a wider smile. "Did you know that some people consider rooks to be messengers that can travel between here and the Fade? Some see them as an omen, but I highly doubt you to be a portentous sign, dear Rook!"

Rook flushed again at the way the endearment rolled so naturally off his tongue. "Um, well, the Mistress at the orphanage thought me to be a omen—mostly of small accidents—and the name just stuck." Rook shrugged and continued, trying to change the subject, "Bellara told me a lot about your work and I've heard a little about your time with the Mourn Watchers." The professor dropped her hand and nodded. "Yes, it's a shame Miss Lutare had to depart." The little skeleton made a noise and the professor laughed. "Oh, of course, this is my assistant Manfred." Manfred made a delighted hiss at this and Rook smiled in return. "A wisp of curiosity whom I transferred into the vessel you see." He gave the skeleton a paternal pat on the shoulder. "He was very fond of Miss Lutare, it was a shame she was called back to the Veil Jumpers."

Rook had only met Bellara Lutare a a handful of times, but she had instantly formed a bond with the Veil Jumper when they had crossed paths at an apothecary in Nevarra City. It had been a surprised to see another elf, it was rare to see one in Nevarra. Rook had been endlessly bullied as an orphan by the other children for her pointy ears—no matter that so much time had passed, she always tried to cover as much of ears as possible with her thick auburn hair. Even though she hadn't spent much time with Bellara, that wrote often, and she knew how much the elf bounced around from place to place. She couldn't picture Bellara staying in the one spot for so long. But it was a shame their paths hadn't crossed before she had come to see the professor so she could get some notes.

"Manfred will show you to your room," said Professor Volkarin, smiling kindly at her. "We can begin tomorrow, I am sure you must need some rest and food before I begin bombarding you! We dine at eight."

With that, Rook followed Manfred back into the manor, listening idly as he clicked and clattered away. This time she was able to take in her surroundings more carefully as she followed. Her first thought that the inside of the manor was better maintained than the facade was correct, although not by much. The high ceilings had cracks that crossed and intersected like veins above her head and she idly wondered how secure the heavy chandeliers were as they flickered with fade magic. In some of the corners she could see where parts of the ornately detailed wallpaper was peeling away and the runners that decorated the stone floor were worn and faded.

It was all still so beautiful, despite its crumbling nature. Rook had only lived in the orphanage she grew up in and then in the student apartments of the Mourn Watchers. This beautiful manor was like something out of a storybook. The room Manfred led her to was like the rest of the building, worn but grand. It was a large room, a fire already burning in an ornate fireplace in an effort to warm the space. The massive fourposter bed was decorated with what look like the most luxurious coverlet Rook had ever seen and large plump pillows that had her yearning for sleep despite it only turning to early evening. There was a large wooden wardrobe, a beautiful vanity table with a large gilded mirror and she saw another door, where she assumed a bathroom lay in waiting. It was a lot to take in and Rook just let out a large breath and said, "Wow."

Manfred clapped his gloved hands together and did a little dance on the spot before pointing at a large chest at the foot of the bed. Rook opened it and saw her sad looking carpet bag inside. "Thank you," she said, closing the lid. "I will freshen up I think and then meet you downstairs?" Manfred nodded before leaving the room, the door closing behind her with a gentle click. She opened the chest again and dragged out her bag, unpacking her possessions. She had barely enough clothing to fill even a third of the wardrobe, her dresses and coats looking sad and neglected like unwanted orphans on their hangers. Perhaps she may be able to buy some new clothes when she received her first payment from the professor. It would be nice to purchase some new boots and even a new skirt if not a whole dress. Perhaps then she would feel less like a bedraggled mouse.

Lastly, Rook unpacked her research book and notes, carefully placing them on a nearby writing desk. Her studies in the Mourn Watchers had mostly revolved around preservation of the dead and with it came the tending of the Memorial Gardens in the Grand Necropolis. This, she knew, was why Professor Volkarin had requested her for help with his research. She was incredibly nervous about working one on one with Professor Volkarin—a name that had been lorded to her during her time with the Watchers and by Bellara. He had left the Watchers before she had been skilled enough to advance to any of his classes and had never met him before. She had heard whispers about how he stopped a Johanna Hezenkoss from taking over the city a year before he had gone on sabbatical. Nobody really spoke of what exactly had happened, but all she knew was that Emmrich Volkarin was a name that was said with great respect and admiration while Hezenkoss's was spat with disgust.

Rook had learnt that Emmrich Volkarin had developed an interest in healing potions, and had taken to researching the properties of plants in order to develop further cures and relief for suffering patients. She knew he had already created a new healing elixir that was already been used around Thedas.

It had sounded perfect to Rook who had wanted to escape from the confines of the Mourn Watch, feeling trapped and out of place. A chance at something interesting and helpful, and with someone so highly regarded would be excellent in terms of her travelling to other cities as she wished.

But still, it was all so incredibly daunting.

It had not taken her long to unpack her things and so she quickly went into the room she suspected was a bathroom—which it was indeed, as large and beautiful as the rest of the room—to wash her hands and splash some water on her face before leaving the room.

She dawdled a moment in the hall. Which way had they came earlier? She should have paid more attention to the directions than the decor when she followed Manfred. The hallway stretched in both directions, candle sconces on either side. Shrugging, Rook went left and walked down the hallway, peering into rooms as she went. Most doors were closed but some were open, showing closed drapes and furniture covered in dusty sheets. For such a large home it very quiet and empty.

Were there no servants except Manfred? It would explain the state of the place but it seemed so odd. There was the sound of a door closing behind her and Rook turned but saw nothing. Dismissing it as the wind, she continued down the hallway and sighed in relief when it ended, revealing the main staircase.

Hurrying down the stairs, she was met by Manfred who hissed happily and once more gestured for her to follow. She was lead in the opposite direction of the manor's gardens and down towards a large library. It was two stories high and she could see every available wall was full of books. There were small tables everywhere, the surfaces covered in books too. It reminded her of the library in the Grand Necropolis, though not as large, it was still as grand—perhaps even more so.

She spied the tall frame of the professor bent over a book at a nearby desk, his brow furrowed as he read. He stood when they approached. "Ah, Rook!" he said, clasping his hands together. Rook liked the soft jingling sound of his many bracelets as he moved, it reminded her of her cat back home—even more cementing her comparison of him to a panther. "I hope the room is to your liking. I'm afraid this place can get awfully cold even in the warmer months so we try to keep the fires going at all times." He laughed. "Though I suspect you are used to the frigidness of the student accommodation so I'm sure you will fair well enough."

Rook laughed in response. "Yes, it's all fine, Professor. More than fine! It's a beautiful room." "Emmrich," he said and came towards her. With one smooth motion he had a hand on the small of her back and was guiding her out of the library and down the hallway. "This house is quite old, it used to belong to one of the old Nevarran families and has landed in my lap due to very dull circumstances that I shan't bore you with." He paused near a portrait that showed a man in his mid forties with an impressively large moustache and an even larger look of disdain on his sharp face. "The estate was owned for twenty generations or so and has fallen into ruin since. Ulrich Blackthorne was the last incumbent but he died about ten years ago."

"Blackthorne doesn't sound very Nevarran," said Rook, dragging her gaze away from the painting.

Emmrich turned to her and smiled again. "The family took their name from the estate—a gift from Queen Vanneska the Fourth. A shame what befell them but I am pleased that I am able to work here, it's a gift to have such a large place to work and their gardens, while overgrown, were renowned."

They walked on, the professor continuing to speak more about the manor and his eventual plans to tidy it up but "the research comes first!". They ended up in a large dining room, one wall consisting of large arched windows that overlooked some of the grounds. It was nearly dark, the sun low in the sky and blanketing the gardens with a red glow. She could spy a few spots that twinkled with the glow of the fade—wisps. They trailed over the grounds, twinkling like stars.

The professor noticed her gaze and said, "The wisps do not generally approach people. I must say I am impressed with you already that one has approached you so early on." He pulled out a chair and Rook took a moment to realise he had done so for her. Rook tried to remember if Bellara or anyone in the Watchers had mentioned him being from a noble family, he certainly had the manners of one. It made her feel awkward but he didn't seem to mind.

She sat down with a thank you and watched him take a seat across from her. It was a stupidly large table and they occupied one end of it.

"I enjoyed seeing the wisps in the Memorial Gardens," said Rook. "I used to talk to them when I was—when I was working in there on my own."

That sounded sad and lame but it sounded less so than the truth that she would tell the spirits how the other students called her 'knife-ear' or 'little rabbit'. The older she'd become, the less it had occurred but there had always been those few that would still whisper nasty remarks under their breath as she walked past.

"How truly marvellous!" said Emmrich. "I must say I was so relieved to find you. Bellara spoke of you often." Rook smiled in response as Manfred came through a small door holding a bottle of wine and two glasses on a tray. He placed a glass in front of Rook and then one in front of Emmrich before he busied himself pouring some of the wine into a small carafe. He placed it on the table with a small hiss before toddling off. Emmrich sighed. "I'm afraid Manfred doesn't know much about table etiquette but I'm sure you don't mind." He paused a moment before he went to fill her glass. "I didn't even ask if you like wine, it's from Orlais. If you prefer Antivan, or something else, I can ring for Manfred to return."

"Oh, no, I don't mind, honestly it's all the same to me," Rook said sheepishly. "I'm certain Manfred knows more than I do, Professor."

"Emmrich, please, " he said as he filled her glass with the dark red liquid. "Professor always makes me feel so decrepit."

"Well, you don't seem decrepit at all to me, Emmrich," said Rook, his name falling off her tongue awkwardly, "I've heard so much about you and your work, your reputation proceeds you. It feels disrespectful to not call you by your title." Rook hastily took a large sip of the wine, more to stop her lips from flapping than anything else. This was why she didn't have many friends. It was better when she was with someone like Bellara who could let Rook just ride the easy currents of conversation as she steered. She shouldn't have said anything, he probably thought she was rude now that he invited her to call him by his first name and she was now wanting to hide behind a title.

But he didn't snap at her or dismiss her, instead he laughed. "I assure you, it is perfectly agreeable to me, but if it makes you more comfortable to call me professor, that is more than acceptable, dear Rook." He turned as Manfred returned again, this time with their meals. "I thought you would be hungry so I had Manfred begin dinner a little early." Rook simply said her thank you and they spent most of the meal in a comfortable silence. It was nice to eat a such a rich meal and also not to be eating on her own. It was later, when the plates had been cleared and the professor was still sipping on his wine that the research was brought up.

"We will go over more in the morning, but I am very excited for your help," Emmrich was saying. "Manfred does his best but it's much easier to have a living assistant, especially when it comes to certain expermients. I was pained when Bellara didn't return, especially with her vast knowledge, but alas." "Well, I hope I can help as much as Bellara," said Rook with what she hoped was an encouraging smile. "I don't know much about magical artefacts but I do know my plants very well." "I am delighted, Rook," said Emmrich. "Now I think some tea and bed is the best course. There is a bell in your room by the door, do ring it if you need anything." "Thank you, Professor," said Rook as she stood and let him lead her back to her room.

The manor was even quieter now, she felt she could hear the stone shifting as if the manor was breathing a sigh at the end of a long day. The few candles that lit the hallways flickered as they walked. The quiet was a nice change from the noise of her apartment in the city. But Rook thought it a little odd, Bellara had mentioned in one letter that the manor has been so noisy but perhaps there had been more servants when she was here.

They reached her door and the professor bid her goodnight, though he paused as he turned to leave.

"Your room is in the East Wing of the manor," he said, his tone the most serious she had heard it so far, "it's best to stick to this side of it. I'm afraid the West Wing is fraught with damage—I have no idea what those Blackthornes did to this place—but it is quite unsafe save for the library. So I do ask that you do not venture any further than that unaccompanied."