Think I'll make something for dreadrook week. So here's Fade Conversations prompt @thelighthouse-server, or Rook is forced into Fade every time they go to sleep. Rook is gn!Shadow Dragon.
Rook watches as Templars lead the smuggler away. It's not the end they've hoped for, but it’s something; the Shadow Dragons can take it from here. Lace and Rook stand at the entrance where Templars have lifted the metal gates, waiting for Neve.
“The rain is getting heavy. Think your fellow Shadows will be kind enough to offer us a shelter?” Lace asks as another Templar passes by; he was one of the Shadow Dragons, Rook remembers meeting him once.
They turn their attention to the dwarf, shaking their head. “Wouldn't bet on it. But we have a few coins. I'm sure Neve can find us some cheap inn with no Venatori around,” Rook says, stretching their hands above their head; the past two days were draining, filled with chasing, fighting, and Darkspawn. Tomorrow will be no different, but Elgar'nan and Ghilan'nain must be stopped. Rook stifles down the yawn. “And, hopefully, they’ll have free rooms there. Don't know about you, but I'm too tired to head back to the Lighthouse.”
“The Shadows will take it from here. Our job’s done…” Neve says as she reaches the two of them. Moments ago she was filling a Shadow Dragon in on the case; he often offered the Shadows information straight from the Templars and kept an eye on Venatori agents who used their status and money to avoid punishment. Neve knows Shadows will soon find out what happened here, but she still plans to tell them everything directly. She also makes a note to get in touch with her contact in Threads. In all her years as a detective, Neve would never expect them of all people to deal with Ventori and red lyrium. The plan is already forming in her head. “... for now.”
“For now? You already have a plan?” Rook looks at Neve with a glint in their eyes; they like what she’s hinting at: there’s no room for Venatori and red lyrium in their city.
“I always have one and a few backups.” Neve looks at Rook with a sly grin; she will certainly let them know about her progress. But that’s for later, right now they have more pressing matters to attend to.
Rook returned the grin before heading back to the city. “So, think you could find us some place to stay?”
“And with good food,” adds Lace, her stomach moments away from eating itself. The Lighthouse had little food when they arrived there, and the only person whose cooking skills weren't regarded by others as a murder attempt was Bellara. So, naturally, they had a proper meal only when they just came to Minrathous, and it was hours ago.
“I'll talk to Viper. He'll find something for us. And tomorrow we can discuss everything with him.” After tracking down the relic, they all deserve a good rest, and with the sun setting behind the clouds, it’s getting progressively late to discuss work with someone who isn’t as work-driven as her.
“You think he'll agree? The Ventori are still up for my blood.” Rook knows the Viper won’t be cruel enough to throw them out on the streets, but they don’t want any more problems for Shadows.
“Viper will understand.” Neve takes the lead, heading back to the Shadow Dragons’ safehouse.
When the sun set, they were already in one of the Shadow Dragons’ safehouses. After a late supper, Neve and Lace had settled in their rooms, and Rook stayed in the main area; they were glad to be back to the place they called home. Ultimately Rook goes to their room; it isn't big, but it has a bed, and they don't care about anything else. The exhaustion is already catching up with them, so they waste no time getting in bed. As the last bits of energy leave their body, Rook finally falls asleep. The moment they open their eyes, they are met with two purple eyes staring back at them.
“Solas,” Rook says matter-of-factly, recounting every single event that led them here.
“Rook.” Solas has the same smug grin on his face he had when they talked last time. Rook hated it the first time, and they hate it now. They don’t like how self-satisfied he is, and they don’t like how it makes him look so captivating.
“And you're going to be here every time I fall asleep?” Rook looks him right in the eyes, like their life depends on it. Because if they turned away and then looked back at him, their eyes would inevitably land on his lips, on that stupid charming smirk of his.
“If the Veil is thin enough for you to enter the Fade without any complications,” Solas clarifies. He's not particularly pleased that his connection with Rook will pull them into the prison every time the Veil is thin enough, but it's necessary; he can bear with it.
“So what you say is I should move to Treviso,” Rook says, already considering in their head all the places where the Veil is thinner than in Minrathous or Arlathan Forest, and their alternatives are few. And Treviso of all places seemed like a good place to stay, if you forget that it’s filled with qunari, and that they’ll have to live with assassins, but at least no chances of seeing Solas in their dreams.
“I didn't suggest you do that. Though it would surely save me from your company,” Solas taunts, understanding it's not possible for them to stay in Treviso all the time. Rook is tied to him now, and with Ghilan'nain and Elgar'nan around, they have no way but to travel from the Lighthouse, gathering allies and escaping the grasp of their enemies there. This way he can ensure that everything goes according to plan, that Rook won’t fall into the ‘gods’ trap or do something stupid; he can’t allow another one of his plans to go wrong.
“You mean your only company.” Despite his claim, something tells them like he doesn’t really want them to leave. Maybe it’s the eye contact they keep, maybe it’s his intonation, or maybe that he chose to engage in conversation. Rook isn’t sure if what they see is all this prison is, but they have a feeling it’s much bigger than two islands, so he’s here willingly.
Solas says nothing, scrutinizing Rook; his expression is finally relaxed, but his hands are still clasped behind his back. They aren’t far from the truth; beside the two of them, there’s no soul or spirit around, but he'd never admit it. He doesn’t want to spend more time in the prison than necessary, so it’s only natural that he would come out to Rook.
“I suppose you have started gathering allies for your fight with Elgar'nan and Ghilan'nain,” Solas inquires after a moment of contemplation. Solas knows he can’t ask them this question every time they get in the Fade, but right now nothing comes to mind; he’ll think of other ways to turn the conversation away from discussing his feelings, just not this time.
“Dealt with a smuggler in Minrathous, who tried to deliver red lyrium to Venatori. Tomorrow, we ask the Shadow Dragons to help us.” Rook keeps the details to a minimum; they have no desire to indulge in a conversation with Solas. Or at least to indulge more than they've already had. Otherwise they’ll either end up as another victim of his lies or get too attached to him, and Rook’s not sure which one of those is worse.
Solas feels that Rook avoids telling him the whole story, but that’s to be expected with his reputation. “I see.” A corner of his mouth quirks as he continues. “I hope they're reliable.” Solas was sure they would come first to the Shadow Dragons; his agents told him about Rook's close connections with Shadows. At least here Rook couldn't surprise him. But how reliable they would be remains to be seen.
“They surely are, compared to some,” Rook couldn't help but taunt him in return. They have no doubts about Shadows; Solas, on the other hand, can and will betray them.
“Of course, I'm a god of treachery, after all.” Solas remains composed; Rook's attitude, no matter how impudent it is, seems like a breath of fresh air to him. The men who worked under him showed nothing but reverence and admiration. They would do anything he’d ask of them, making him miss Dorian and Vivienne, even Sera. Back in the Inquisition, he’d never believed he would wish to be in their company, but there he was. They never held back to say in his face what they thought about him or his words. Just like Felassan back in the day… Just like him once…
“Maybe it's about time someone added pettiness to the list. Fen'harel, elven god of lies, treachery, rebellion, and pettiness.” Solas still couldn't let go of that one remark they made when they first met. Nor would Rook let him forget all he said and did. They're worth each other in a sense, but that still won’t stop Rook from jesting; nothing could.
“And sarcasm.” Rook stares menacingly at Solas, who seems satisfied with their reaction. His eyes dart up and down them as everything goes hazy, and their mind slowly returns back to the waking world.
“We'll continue this conversation later.” Solas says before Rook disappears, turning away from them to avoid looking at the statue that will be conjured by the Prison in their place. He has to take down the Veil, to right his wrongs, to make sure all those he killed to achieve that died for a cause. He doesn’t want to harm Rook; if anything he’d like to know them better, but they wouldn’t understand his cause, not that it’s going to stop him from trying.
Rook wakes up to another eventful day, a day they try to prolong for as long as they can. But despite their effort, they find themselves back in the Fade.
“Avoiding me now?” Solas is as smug as always. “Or you've decided to be productive?”
Rook groans, thinking to themselves that they need to buy coffee next time they're in Treviso; maybe it’ll help them stay awake for longer.
“Maybe you'd rather stumble into a trap than face me?” Rook sighs as he continues mocking them. They know they can't stay awake all the time, but seeing Solas every time they fall asleep doesn't exactly seem like a good perspective. Rook looks around the Fade Prison, seeing nothing but void on the left, on the right, and surely behind them too, and that leaves only Solas as a source of any entertainment.
“What's going to happen if I fall?” Rook inquires in an attempt to strike up a conversation, looking down into the void between the two of them. Their conversations rarely go without someone trying to taunt or mock the other, but Rook may as well try to be decent.
“Nothing that would harm you. But you may spend the rest of your dream falling endlessly. But that's still better than my company, I assume,” Solas goads Rook, their attempt to avoid rest could endanger his plan, and he doesn't want to lose his only way out. And the only company he has here. Eventually he decides to warn them. “Though I would not suggest falling down there in the flesh.”
“And what would happen if I did?” Rook tilts their head, ignoring the taunting. Bellara had no idea what would happen, but Solas may.
“Spirits usually return such inattentive souls back to a more stable area.” Solas never heard or ever witnessed someone fall and disappear into the Void, but that doesn't mean it's impossible. And remembering his days in the Inquisition, knowing what Inquisitor could do, he better make sure Rook doesn't have urges to try this out. “Usually.”
“Great. I'll keep that in mind,” says Rook with little enthusiasm. They’ll have to warn the rest of the team about that when they wake up. “So there's reaaaly no way to avoid getting dragged here?”
“None I know about.” Solas doesn’t try to hide the glimmer of amusement in his eyes from seeing how much Rook wants to avoid seeing him every night. He's stuck here with the voices of all those he has killed for his goals and Rook as the only living company. Even if he knew of a way to accomplish that, he wouldn't tell them; he won't be left alone.
“And what if I'm drunk? Would I appear here drunk too?” Rook decides to question him; they need to understand how careful they should be. Varric did refer to Solas as Fade expert back when they traveled together, so he must be able to answer them.
“Most certainly,” he nods.
“And if I fell asleep naked?” Rook remembers that the last several times they've appeared here in what they wore before falling asleep, but they had to make sure.
“I'm sure you already know the answer.” The idea of Rook showing up like that did come up to him while they were in the waking world, and despite himself, it intrigued him, and so the gap between them remains. Rook’s eyes lock with his; Solas sees the thoughtfulness clear on their face, but no matter how hard he tries, he can’t understand what’s on their mind. The thoughts raced in their head, and for a brief moment the idea of showing up like that arose.
“And what if I will?” Rook tilts their head, their voice laced with challenge. They had no idea why such an idea would occur in their head, but Solas looks all too smug about that for him to be disgusted by it. Rook would go even as far as to say that he entertained this possibility.
“Excuse me?” Solas looked at Rook wide-eyed; deep down he didn’t mind it, but seeing Rook looking back at him with their lips turned up made him push the thought aside and compose himself. “You would see little reaction, if you would even see me.”
It didn’t convince Rook, so they’ll surely get back to that idea later. “We can discuss your hair if this topic causes certain reactions in you.” If Rook is to be trapped here with him, then they can at least have some fun of their own.
Solas clenches his fists behind his back, but he doesn’t let Rook have the upper hand; he’l deal with their insolence later. “My hair?” He raises his eyebrow, suspecting where the conversation would go.
“I once saw magister Pavus in the safehouse, and he had the same hairstyle.” Solas looks at Rook with surprise yet again. The conversation will certainly be entertaining if they will be able to keep it civil.
