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"You'll get them back after we finish playing; you haven't seen our hands yet."

He leaned closer and snatched up his arm, smacking her on the knee with it. Not too hard, but enough that she'd know he wouldn't back down. "I said I'm done. Keep the clothes if you like them so much; we're going home."

He put his hat on, gave his arm to Bull so he'd have something to do, and stood. "Don't do anything we wouldn't do," he said, tipping his hat to them.

The doctor gaped at him. "Wouldn't you perhaps like a blanket for your journey?" he asked when he recovered. He seemed to be working hard to keep his eyes on Tal's face.

Tal shook his head. "Fair's fair, doctor. I'm good. What about you, Bull?"

"I'm great," Bull said with a very dangerous smirk, catching Tal by the waist, fingers digging in just a little.

"See? Nothing to worry about," Tal smirked, letting Bull very nearly drag him out of the room to the sound of Ayla's cackling and the doctor's incredulous sputtering.

It would be a fucking wonder if they even made it home.

🔥Read 'Beautiful' HERE!

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@onelooseskull @serialsforbellara @davrinsleftpectoral @blackwall-my-tiny-husband @hedwigoprah @guacamolleee @introvertedfangrl @vishantikaffar @redaresss @sorcerousadventurer @necromanticsoul @brightbreezeblog @casa-dei-corvei @lycheecatee @handsignals @wolfmoonwildflowers @notyourmamasdeerbat @sandcastlekings @curiouswisp @quaksi @trashwithvariety @trash-nerd @dudewheresmynug @rooks-dagger @grand-crow @tevivinter @genjyoandgojyoandhakkai @zennihilation @kogarashi-art @pinkvbay @chaosherald @xkatchy @reaver-of-kirkwall @in-the-drowning-deep @ass-deep-in-demons @bronzieinthedas @winterhartarts @viagosbrother @oddsaint22 @wickedadaar @lemondelighted @woundedsoul12 @tarasmom @veilguardingonmain @andthekitchensinkao3 @nyx-de-riva 🌿

He takes the traditional path. 

He didn’t have to - there was no one to witness his first contract. He had heard rumors of Fledglings who hide swords near ambush sites or sneak poison into their mark’s final meal - not a killing venom, but something insidious, that confuses their senses or slows their reaction time or make them more trusting of a shadow in the night.

Something to make it easy.

As Lucanis cleans the simple dagger he had been given - one of his mother’s, the mystique long gone - he reflects that it shouldn’t be easy - killing someone.

But it was.

Lucanis noted the wyvern tooth dagger in a place of honor at the stall. He could also hear Caterina in his head - A crow is only as good as their blade. Undisputed, undeniable, unequivocally true. Such a weapon would be poorly balanced. Incapable of keeping a proper edge. Best to ignore it and how it set him wondering at just how large a wyvern’s mouth would be, to grow a tooth that long. Ignore how his hands twitched, wondering at the texture. Ignore the fondly prompted memory of sneaking into Illario’s room with his new book, a plan, an adventure.

Sometimes, the Maker was cruel, putting the thought into Lucanis’ head that Viago de Riva - sullen, prickly, and distant - was smart and funny and wouldn’t it be interesting, to see how he worked up close, to listen for the caustic wit in his sparse words, to see how curly his hair was before he meticulously styled it for the day.

He finds the knife during a contract in Tevinter. A snake, fangs bared to the world, tail curled around the sharpest blade and knows who it is for.

The gift was never acknowledged, but that was probably for the best.

The first was his rialto. Caught the lightning blast, dropped the hilt to make sure the electricity did not jump to him.

Then the offhand dagger. Three Venatori in, embedded deep enough in a bloodmage’s sternum that it was prudent to let go.

Stiletto, pinned his opponent to the mast.

Left arm sheath, back, chest -  thrown.

Boot dagger, overboard in a grapple that got out of hand. At least he managed to keep himself on the ship. 

But as his weapons and options dwindle, he starts to wonder if it would have been better to give himself to the sea.

Spite does not understand.

We are. Weapons. Make the broken parts sharp!

And Lucanis wants to laugh at the absurdity of it all. They broke all the bones in his hand that morning and he doesn’t remember the last time he ate and and he is probably going to die here, but he still explains the physical impossibility of sprouting daggers from bruised flesh to the Demon in his head who doesn’t yet grasp the immutability of reality.

But Spite is correct: he is a weapon and right now his will to live, however dulled, is all he has left.

His rescuers have one of his knives, bound in mourning cloth, violet so dark it might as well be black. That is a token not easily come by. When the mage - Rook - says Caterina sent them, he believes her.

He was planning to go with her regardless, but nice to know he was not forgotten.

After, once they have escaped he detours to the Villa - to recover the rest of his gear, wrapped in mourning cloth in memory of a dead man.

Spite flares in his reflection as he unwraps the blades and he isn’t sure the memorial was wrong.

Fighting with Rook is a new experience.

She uses a mage knife as her primary focus. It looks like it broke off part of her Necropolis - runes on a blade the dull green of corrosion that buzzes with energy. He suspects it is not made of metal, but it seems too intimate to confirm his suspicions. The first time she is disarmed he inquires about her back up blade and learns she doesn’t have one.

Once he realizes she is not joking he excuses himself to reconfigure his own gear, adding a mage knife to his arsenal - just in case.

She buys it for him. Holds it as if it weren’t weighed down with years of quiet want. Gifts it to him as if he deserves such indulgences, however impractical. She smiles too - another gift unearned and undeserved and unnecessary to fulfilling this contract and all Lucanis can do is stumble over a hasty explanation of how much he loved wyverns and hope she hears the ‘thank you.’

It feels exactly as he imagined as a child. He has no idea how she knew. Spite smugly tells him the Spirits knew and unlike some people, she knows how to listen.

Lucanis has come to hate the Lyrium dagger. It was extraordinary - conduit of miracles in Rook’s hands - but it taunts him. Pale blue line pointing right to his failures. First at Weisshaupt, when its edge just kissed Ghilan'nain’s cheek, and then at Tearstone when it and Rook are stolen away along with the fragile hopes he had just dared start to imagine of a future beyond blades and blood.

He should have known - such treasures always have a cost and weapons - however ornate, however precise - are tools of death.

He was a fool to ever think he could be otherwise.

There is no elegance in the aftermath. Dead and departed gods, the Veil held together by sacrifice and repentance. A city and a people emerging from the blighted boot of tyrants. 

His grip on his sword does not loosen, even as the people around them realize they have survived to see the sunrise, as Spite sits in his head contented, satiated, at peace, as his friends exchange hugs and tears and laughter and relish in their victory.

It is only when Rook eases his hand off the hilt that he relents, relaxes, and allows himself to tentatively meet her smile.

Sometimes the Maker was kind. His gift to Rook - to his bride - are throwing knives designed to amplify magic, like her favored mage knife but balanced for flight and easily hidden. Unexpected and clever. A means of keeping her safe even when they aren’t together, though he intends such moments to be few and far between.

She has one of them strapped to her arm when they exchange vows, a glint of gold in the cascade of Antivan lace and it's like a secret but really any with eyes could see she long ago embraced him, sharp edges and all.

His children notice his knives - curious hands and curious questions and Lucanis is careful to show them how they cut and how they dance and how they need to be respected. They all learn the basics, though it is a choice not an obligation, and Lucanis makes sure they know they are more than their weapons.

Tonight, the only blades present are the chef’s knives as they work together to prepare a meal.

These memories might fade, but he knows the love threaded through will be eternal, a warmth when they wander in darkness.

He hopes it will be enough.

Day 1 Day 2 Day 3

Thank you @datvcompanionweeks for hosting 💜 Amazing Lucanis border by @gutz-ingellvar 💜

It had been a long year.

Well, longer really, if you considered they hadn't had a proper break since the Conclave, but as Harding led her small group around the outskirts of the farming village on Nevarra's Southern boarder, she couldn't help but feel a little bitter that even after putting down Corypheus, they were still hunting down rogue fade tears a year later and gosh, she was ready for a break.

It didn’t help that there was something odd about this location. The locals had been welcoming enough, but were clearly focused on getting in the harvest which - valid, of course, only so much sun left between now and the first frosts that would end the growing season - but normally folks who had been living in close proximity to a wild tear were more panicked. Or possessed. Or dead. 

Following the directions she had been given, Harding and her scouts made their way towards the telltale glow in the sky, curious about what they would find.

The rift seemed - stable. Well, as stable as they ever were before Inquisitor Keara sealed them. There was no sign of demons, just a weird green slash in the air and a circle of mages wearing grinning golden masks and uniforms in purple, green, and black who were clearly engaged in some kind of ritual.

Mortalitasi, Harding assumed. And honestly, they looked plenty demonic in those masks. Maybe they had scared all the actual demons away. She would have to ask Cassandra about them. Or maybe Dorian - Cassandra would probably just make a disgusted sound and a disparaging remark about Nevarra’s death cult.

As she was trying to figure out who to talk to without interrupting whatever magic was happening, a tall woman with bright blue eyes and sleek brown hair walked over to their group. She had on a uniform too, but it was different than the others and lacked a mask. She also didn’t look all that much older than Harding. “Are you with the Inquisition?”

“Yes. Lead Scout Harding, with the Inquisitor's Own Vanguard. We were sent to make sure the rift was accessible and well…” Harding trailed off.

The woman smiled, tilting her chin up slightly, like she needed even more height above Harding. “I am Lady Sybil Van Achen, of the Mourn Watch. I imagine you are impressed with how well we have locked down the area.”

Harding wasn’t sure if she should bow or salute or what but figured she didn’t answer to the local nobility, just the Inquisitor. She went with a friendly smile. “Yeah, actually. I’ve been on site for a lot of these and this is a first.”

The woman nodded, clearly pleased. “We developed a system to keep the resident Spirits calm and discourage violent crossovers. Do tell your Inquisitor she need not rush on our account. We have everything under control.”

Harding bit back her knee jerk response, about that kind of smug assumption being a real sad set of final words before demons ate your face. “Right - well, we’re going to set up a perimeter until the Inquisitor arrives. Shouldn’t be too long.”

“Of course.” The woman nodded to Harding - a formal dismissal, she assumed. “We will continue to monitor the situation.”

“Great. Thanks.” Harding gestured to her people to fall back. She would have to make sure she remembered this lady’s name - Cassandra definitely needed to hear about her.

***

As the scout walked away, Amara snorted lightly, tilting her still masked face towards Sybil. “We?”

Sybil rolled her eyes. “What? Should I have said ‘Amara, Sabi, and Nona figured out how to keep the Spirits from eating people?’ You all have your job and I have mine.”

“To speak for us?” Amara asked dryly.

“Yes, and to represent the Watch and act as a liaison with the Inquisition Agents. So you and the other mages can focus on keeping the rift stable while I manage the outsiders. If we do this right, you all will not even need to speak to the Inquisitor or her people and we will be back in Nevarra City in time to take advantage of Father’s reserved box at the Opera before ‘Alamarri Spring’ closes its run.”

“I’m going to hold you to that,” Amara said, laughing as she turned her attention back to the work at hand.

Thank you @rookappreciationweek for hosting!

Name dropping some fellow Watchers with Sabi @seaglassmelody and Nona @handsignals 💚

@serialsforbellara @jenn2d2 @sunny374940 @mushrooms-x-moss @kogarashi-art @woundedsoul12 @genjyoandgojyoandhakkai @selennes @blackwall-my-tiny-husband @davrinsleftpectoral @tarasmom @zennihilation @lycheecatee @sorcerousadventurer @sandcastlekings @handsignals @lemondelighted

The lights flashed and Varric directed everyone to take their seats. 

Addie walked onto the stage into the spotlight, "Welcome one and all to Verona, Italy." The curtains behind her steadily crept open as she spoke. "Where familial ties will be tested, rivalries are getting heated, and revenge is in the air. We open to a most innocent of taverns- the Cobbled Swan." She gestured to the stage as the lights turned on and walked to the edge as though to oversee the proceedings. 

Athos and Dana laughed, hands on their hips and gesturing wildly at Esha who had her arms crossed. 

"These two groups are sworn enemies, the Capulets and the Montagues." Addie announced.

Then Dana walked forward and Esha and her tackled each other, rolling around dramatically on the ground.

Qatesh waltzed over wearing a gold crown on her head and broke up the brawl, "If either of your families cause any more trouble, they'll be put to death. So they'd better…. behave themselves and be good. Please."

//

"No no no no!" Dasha hit the fog machine again cursing. Hugo had helped her drag the machine out of the gym and into the hall to work on it before rushing back inside. Dasha hit the machine again as it sputtered and wound down. 

"Is your machine not working?" Kala, one of the students from Beacon High was walking with Delmar, both had been headed back to the gym and had paused to speak to Dasha. 

"It broke and I need it to spray colored fog in 4 acts from now." She wondered if she had time to rip it apart and fix it. 

"Oh well we can help, both Delmar and I are on the battlebot team back at our school." 

Dasha's head snapped up to look them and nodded, "Oh yes thank you some help would be great!" She waved at the device on the ground. "And you can tell me about your bot- 

“The Pyre Starter.” Delmar supplied, crouching down to look at the machine

“While we work." Dasha finished.

//

"Why are you so down in the dumps Romeo?" Gladius asked, laughing as he slung an arm around Veryl's shoulders trying his level best to ignore the fact that Veryl was standing there in a too big tshirt with Turvi pressed to her side like they were a two headed beast. 

Veryl looked to Turvi who chuckled awkwardly, "Well my big bad bro, you see we got this really big crush on Rosaline." He elbowed Veryl who suddenly nodded,

"She's one of Capulet's nieces, its a doomed dream. We'll never get the chance to tell her how we feel." 

Sabi walked onto the stage, she was looking at a book in her hands, "You're in luck Romeo, I know of a party that those very Capulet's are throwing—" She looked up and stuttered to a stop when she saw Veryl and Turvi standing there in their badly painted shirt to mimic Veryl's costume, Turvi smiling broadly at her.

"Oh a party? We do love parties don't we Romeo?"He poked Veryl again and she nodded, mustache waving with the motion. 

Sabi blinked, making a face until Gladius came over and bumped her shoulder, "Right Mercutio? It's a good idea to sneak into this party for our buddy?" 

Sabi let out a sigh, caught between trying not to smile and trying not to shake her head in exasperation. "Yes it's a brilliant idea, let's go." 

//

Cioba grinned brightly, twirling around in her pink dress, "Oh Mama, I love it thank you!" She grabbed Zalan's hands and bounced on her toes.

"You look gorgeous dear Juliet." Jericho gushed in his nurse maid’s costume. 

Zalan nodded, "Yes daughter, you look beautiful." He patted her hands, trying not to look exasperated. But Cioba's bright smile was infectious and he couldn't help himself and smile back even when she giggled at him. 

"The party will be starting soon, get out there, have fun. But please think about Count Paris' offer. He's not a bad man and his offer is a good one." Zalan told her. Cioba nodded before giving one more twirl to her dress, the sparkles on the pink fabric dancing in the spotlight before dancing off stage, Zalan and Jericho trailing after. 

//

"Oh I'm so sorry I wasn't watching where I was going." Cioba apologized, looking up at the person she'd run into. She was trying not to grin at the combined Veryl and Turvi.

"No it's all our fault we weren't looking where we were going, are you okay?" Turvi asked, one of his arms and one of Veryl's helping Cioba up to stand. 

Focusing back on her role Cioba blushed looking at them, 

"You are the most captivating angel we've ever seen. Could we have this dance?" Veryl asked bowing, Turvi a few seconds behind, being drug down into the action with her. 

Cioba dipped into a curtsy and agreed, taking one of Veryl's hands and one of Turvi's and the pair led her onto center stage to slowly sway together, anything more being too complicated for the pair stuck together. 

//

"A Montague? I can't believe he was a Montague," Cioba cried, leaning on a cardboard balcony. 

Fodhla from Beacon High stood where originally Xiqaa was supposed to be standing- beside the fake balcony dressed up like a dragon statue complete with tail and drawn on scales, helping lift Turvi and Veryl, grunting from the weight of the two of them. Xiqaa having found the massive Qunari in the audience and obviously having roped her into helping. 

"But oh Juliet how we have come to love you. No matter your name." Veryl announced, reaching a hand out." 

Cioba took it, wiping away fake tears. "You're right, I love you too."

Turvi beamed at her, "Fair Juliet, let's like totally get married." 

Cioba nodded, Fo groaning and wobbling as Turvi moved his feet around in her hand.

Ghilasara wearing one of the cardboard horses came trotting in from offstage and brought her cardboard steed to a halt. "Romeo! We must take our leave, hurry." She was holding another cardboard horse in her hands. 

"Balthasar thank you." Veryl and Turvi climbed down Fo, their shirt straining as they scrambled down together. They took the horse from Ghilasara together and forced it on over their combined heads, an ominous ripping noise drifting out over the audience. 

Somewhere in the gym there was a high pitched sob at the loss of cardboard horse life. 

Ghilasara led the way off stage with Turvi and Veryl awkwardly trying to trot after her in time. 

//

Sancha stood in the corner of the stage as the next narrator, gesturing as Turvi-Veryl, their shirt still hanging on and Cioba stood in the spotlight holding hands while Amara stood tall on a platform dressed in her friar robes and mustache. 

Ezra and Tamryn had been selected from the audience and were standing in as witnesses, tossing white rice up into the air for the couple.

"The two were married in secret the next day, Friar Laurence secure in his knowledge that this would unite the warring families." Sancha explained as the Romeo and Juliet leaned in and the spotlight went dark. 

"But now we find the good Romeo out for a night on the town with his buds." The light came back on with Turvi-Veryl walking beside Sabi and Jack who'd been pulled from the audience.

Micah came stomping on stage, accompanied by Aster and Izzy, also audience pulls, all pointing at Romeo. "We have beef with you Montague." He announced loudly. 

Turvi-Veryl came to a stop both of their heads looking pensive. "We won't fight you." They said as one, shaking their heads. 

Sabi angrily balled her fists up and dramatically waved a hand around, "Romeo! That's weenie talk. We have to fight this guy for his insolence." 

She and Jack both drew their blades and took fight stances. Micah drew his blade as well, Aster and Izzy following suit. "Then bring it on you classless lampshade." 

And the five of them broke out into a sword fight. 

"No!" Turvi-Veryl cried. 

Zea had switched places with Sancha in the narrator's corner and tut-tutted. "Romeo, my poor son, his friends were all incensed and what had once begun as a duel quickly devolved into an all out fight, both sides trying to kill the other." She paused as swords clashed and the actors weaved and dodged around blows aimed for them. 

"How was Romeo ever supposed to stop this?" 

Turvi-Veryl was looking frantically at the fighting friends and finally dove in between them all, standing with their arms out in front of Sabi trying to tell her to stop. 

But Micah saw his opening and slid his blade under Sabi's arm. With a cry she fell to the ground, Turvi-Veryl stooping to catch her as she fell, clutching their paint cracked shirt. "I curse you both for this." She cried before laying still. 

"In his grief Romeo took revenge against Tybalt." Zea continued, gesturing as Romeo took the sword from under Sabi's arm and drove it under Micah's who fell, pretending to die as well.

//

Cara had switched into the narrator's corner, shaking her head and speaking while the stage crew moved things around. "Because of his actions Romeo was exiled from Verona. And Juliet's parents pushed her to marry Count Paris, despite her protests."

Someone tripped over something on stage and a loud ow! Could be heard. 

"Let's see what Juliet's plan is now." And the lights went back up. 

Cioba stopped in the market at a stall with rows and rows of painted drying herbs and flowers. Lydia had outdone herself with this piece. Ayanne stood barefoot on stage.

"I need a poison that will make me look dead." Cioba stage whispered to Ayanne who gasped and looked around worried about someone overhearing. 

"Here but be careful - drink too much and you could be really dead." Ayanne cautioned. 

Cioba ran back to the Capulet home, the background rolling along the stage with her as she went where she poured her potion into a glass of wine. 

"Tonight at dinner." She promised. 

//

Mina wearing her mustache proudly walked onto the stage bowing to Zalan and Eris and asking them how their daughter Juliet was faring. 

When Cioba along with Ayla walked on stage, Cioba greeted everyone and handed out goblets of wine from the tray in Ayla's hands, carefully choosing one specific goblet for herself. 

Mina told Cioba how pretty her dress was and Cioba looked sad, the narrator telling the audience it was the one she'd met Romeo in. 

Looking determined Juliet asked for a toast and everyone drank with Cioba whispering to herself, "It is done." 

Mina suddenly and dramatically started pretend choking, crashing through Eris and Zalan, the later cursing when she made him spill the grape juice in his cup onto the stage. 

Cioba called for the doctor and Athos came out, declaring that Mina's character, Count Paris, was dead. Athos carried her off stage.

//

Cioba wiped the tears from her eyes as Veryl-Turvi pulled her into a hug, "I don't care what your parents say. I have a horse and we can run away together, gallop into the sunset. Please fair Juliet, you never have to be alone, I love you and that's our reason. Please just say yes." 

Cioba began nodding but was interrupted when the gym doors burst open, Delmar and Kala running through yelling, "It wasn't our fault!"

And then Dasha pointing behind her yelling, "It's alive!" As she scrambled onto an empty chair. 

The fog machine was whirring, fog sputtering and coughing from it as it rolled into the gymnasium, the arm the kids from Beacon High had installed to help fan the fog spinning wildly. 

"Somebody stop it!" Coadi yelped as the chair beside them got knocked to the side.

"Runaway robot!" Izzy yelled.

The souped up fog machine spun as it knocked more chairs, audience members fleeing, and begun rolling towards the stage where the cardboard horses were parked.

"Someone save my horses!" Eris cried 

"Barricade it in!" Zea yelled, grabbing Riley, Evariste, and Gladius to help her move the chairs, boxing the swing violent machine before it could reach the fake horse stable.

With it stuck in place Ezra and Aster leapt into action, dodging around the arm whipping around and trying to pry off the top of the roomba style machine. 

"Pull the blue wire!" Delmar yelled, "That's the one connected to the battery!" 

Aster yanked on the wire but it wouldn't budge. Desperate, Ezra grabbed the wire and bit through it stopping the bot in it's tracks. 

It was quiet for a moment and then the nearby students cheered for the pair. 

Eris was hugging a couple of the horses to her chest, and finally was convinced to set them back down once she was sure no harm would come to them. 

Sancha and Arlo got to setting the chairs back up, while Dasha and Hugo drug the machine backstage, Dasha muttering how she was sure they could still fix it. 

Taash and Qatesh helped a few of the parents sweep up the mess that was made and everyone took their seats again.

"Let the show continue." Varric announced, hitting the lights again.

Juliet got back into place and nodded, the epic fight scene behind them forgotten as Turvi and Veryl awkwardly hugged Cioba to their side and the poor ripped cardboard horse from earlier fit around the three of them. Cioba gave Veryl's cheek a kiss with a giggle and the three rode off stage.

The narrator went on to say that the families, seeing their children so in love stopped their war, put down their mage daggers and banished the demons fighting for them back from whence they came. As for Romeo and Juliet? They lived happy ever after. 

The audience gave a round of applause, some of the other students and parents laughing at the change in script or waving at their kid.

Lilya put down the camcorder and Ilene snickered from her seat. "We have to get pictures before we leave. I need photo evidence for future blackmail, Lilya."

The older de Riva shook her head as her younger sister ran off. She'd have to make copies of the performance for the school. Varric thanked her for being the one to record it, 

"I'm just happy nothing actually caught on fire—"

There was a soft boom from backstage and Riley coughing through a cloud of blue and purple smoke, "It was just the fog machine again don't worry nothing's burning!" He yelled to let the teachers know everything was okay.

"Yet." Varric said with a laugh. 

Thank you @rookappreciationweek for hosting ❤️

Credits:

1. Ilene @ kabsey

2. Lilya @ serensama

3. Zalan @ blackwall-my-tiny-husband

4. Turvi @ davrinsleftpectoral

5. Xiqaa @genjyoandgojyoandhakkai

6. Gladius @jenn2d2

7. Amara @chaosherald

8. Veryl @hedwigoprah

9. Coadi @notyourmamasdeerbat

10. Qatesh @bronzieinthedas

11. Jericho @sandcastlekings

12. Hugo @jukkaricity

13. Alana @therivercrow

14. Cara @pixiedurango

15. Ayanne @cute-ellyna

16. Esha @in-the-drowning-deep

17. Eris @grand-crow

18. Sabi @seaglassmelody

19. Rose @aetherflowers

20. Cyri @mythals-whore

21. Riley @woundedsoul12

22. Embria @himluv

23. Athos @necromanticsoul

24. Micah @biowaredisasterbisexual

25. Ghilasara @flowersforthemachines

26. Gemma @serialsforbellara

27. Cioba @xkatchy

28. Dana @babblingrook

29. Lydia @sorcerousadventurer

30. Saadrah @kogarashi-art

31. Ayla @mushrooms-x-moss

32. Sancha @casa-dei-corvei

33. Nona @handsignals

34. Juan @zennihilation

35. Selora @juniper-and-dragonthorn

36. Mina @tarasmom

37. Naera @ serensama

38. Tal @sunny374940

39. Zea @redaresss

40. Queenie @lycheecatee

41. Dasha @lemondelighted

42. Addie @inquisimer

43. Dawes @ratbagjasper

44. Isotta @tkwritesdumbassassins

45. Aster @jaderavenarts

46. Lilja @d7kyoshi

47. Evariste @bossuary

48. Silver @the-bug-witch

49. Ezra @r2wedoomed

50. Kala @corinnesin

51. Anya @andromeda-xyz

52. Delmar @temptersnake

53. Tamryn @imrowanartist

54. Fodhla @svalbird

"I had no choice, Malcolm." Ulrike blinked rapidly, stunned. The woman placed her hands on his shoulders and squeezed. "I named you after my father, Malcolm Hawk. You were born here. It's why this place feels like home to you." Turning around, she pointed him to a run down shack. "I gave birth there. You came into this world screaming and kicking. A fighter like your dad."

Ulrike turned his head to face her as she stared ahead.

"Who is my father? Is he still alive?" A somber smile graced her face.

"Your father was a…complicated man. But I loved him dearly. He knew about you before I left, just he doesn't know that you are alive. I did my best but the fade is…volatile. Even with my magic." She never looked at him as she spoke. The aged lines on her face-despite not knowing how long she had been there-the passage of time was clear.

Ulrike was quiet. Unsure of what to say. He had so many questions. Her voice interrupted his spiraling thoughts.

"My son, to answer your initial question, I didn't want to leave you. It was to save your life. The fade is a dangerous place. Made the more dangerous with a babe strapped to my back." When Ulrike felt pressure on his hand, he glanced down. When did she grab his hand? "The six months I had with you were the best six months of my life. And I should be the one to apologize to you. For sending you away. Had I known what would have happened to you…I just wanted to protect you."

Ulrike squeezed her hand in returned.

"I believe you, mum. We will find a way out of here and find my father. Together." She looked at him, the rueful smile held a ting of warmth.

"My sweet boy, I wish I could leave with you. How I dreamed of a life with you and your father. But I have been here for so long. There would be nothing left for me. Of me. That is not why I am here."

"Then why?"

"To help you. Help you get back to you friends and family. To finish what you started." Ulrike's eyes went wide.

"No. No I'm not leaving you here. I can't."

"Ulrike-"

"NO!" A gasp escaped him as he stared into his mothers green eyes. "You called me Ulrike." She nodded.

"Yes. That is your name. The name your world knows you as." A bright light appeared behind him. His way home. "I will always be in your dreams. You can talk to me whenever you want."

"Mum, please. This is the first time in my life that I felt normal. Like I belong. I…I need you." Tears fell again as he franticly looked back to the light and back to her. "I have no one." He hung his head low until her hands cupped his face, pulling him up to look into her eyes.

"You know that's not true, my son. You have friends and someone who loves you more than you know."

"There. It's thinner here." Emmrich's voice came through the light.

"See. They are looking for you." Thumbing away his tears. "I love you, Ulrike. I always will and I'm so proud of you."

They hugged. Ulrike held her so tight. So close. Refusing to let go; but he knew she was right. He pulled away for the last time. Red eyes bloodshot and heavy. Before letting him go, she whispered something in his ear that made his eyes grow wide.

"When the gods are dead, I will go find my father."

"ROOK!" Lucanis' voice came next, closer than Emmrich's was.

"Your father's name is Fenris and you are a spitting image of him. If you are successful in finding him, tell him…Tell him I'm sorry. For not keeping my promise." Ulrike nodded, recognizing the pain behind her eyes.

Neve wasn’t being paid enough for this.

Of course, she technically wasn’t being paid at all. This was purely a favor to a friend, showing up to the flower viewing party at Altus Kallia’s estate with a fake invitation and Rana as her plus one. The Templar knew Kallia and his circle were dirty. She just needed proximity and a fresh set of eyes to help nail the bastard.

Unfortunately, Neve’s fresh set of eyes were seeing all kinds of things she didn’t like.

Excess drink, wasted food, discussions of blatantly illegal business deals. Slaves moving about with dead eyes and overladen trays. And of course the ‘flowers’ weren’t plants. That would be far too tame for this group. Neve doubted any of the scantily clad youths posing in the garden beds would be here letting the Altus’ guests fawn over them if they had any choice in the matter. 

And at the center of all the silk draped horrors, Altus Kallia himself. He was clearly intoxicated, both by his drink and his current paramour - some minor noble from the West, she learned, an Alta Sabina.

Neve watched as the Alta flagged down a slave, smiling sweetly and thanking the child for the drinks. She then pressed a kiss onto Kallia’s lips before passing him his wine.

Which - huh.

Neve’s instincts were good - they had to be, to survive in Docktown, especially when she made a habit of sticking her nose into all manner of unsavory things. Rana had faded into the crowd, hoping to find a way into the locked study they had found earlier, so when the Alta excused herself, Neve had to make a split second decision without running things by the Templar.

Acting on her hunch, Neve trailed after Sabina. She was easy enough to follow - her golden hair a ridiculous cloud of curls and feathers, badly overbalancing her gown that was little more than a few strips of silk held together by strings and a prayer. She never looked back and never changed her pace, so Neve was rightfully surprised when she turned a corner and came face to face with the other woman, waiting for her like she had known she was being followed.

Well, even if that surprised Neve, at least she was satisfied that her hunch was correct. There was definitely something odd about Alta Sabina. 

The other woman’s eyes went wide - abruptly, intentionally so -  then slowly narrowed. Neve watched, fascinated, as the woman figuratively dropped the mask, shifting her weight and relaxing her face. “From one professional to another then - what gave me away?”

“The wine,” Neve said, curious to see if she would be able to fill the rest in without help.

The woman - whoever she was - snorted. “Of course. Alta Sabina would never thank a slave. As soon thank a chair or table.”

“Who are you?” Neve asked. She didn’t think the other woman was armed, but realized they were very isolated. She had been so focused on following ‘Alta Sabina’ she hadn’t realized how far they had wandered, or how tidy this area would be for a quiet ambush.

“Someone who isn’t here for you,” the woman said, like she had read Neve’s mind. “I’m also on my way out. And since you were poking around with the Templar earlier…” Smiling, the woman tossed something Neve’s way.

Neve reached for it by instinct, noting it was a key, and cursed herself a moment later as the woman pulled energy to herself with a snap and Fade stepped away. Reaching for her own magic, Neve tracked the path and ran after her. 

Oh, whoever she was, she was good. Neve hadn’t sensed any magic around her until she actively cast. Even trying to track her Fade Steps was proving frustrating. She finally lost the trail near the edge of the estate.

She did however find a wig - a ridiculous golden wig set with feathers - pinned to a tree trunk by a silverite knife with wings on the hilt.

Looking at the key in her hands, Neve did some quick calculations. Assuming their host was the target, assuming the Crow’s work was already done - 

Well. She needed to go find Rana now and see if this got them into the study. Preferably before whatever Kallia had been dosed with took effect.

She definitely wasn’t being paid enough for this.

Thank you @rookappreciationweek for hosting!

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