Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"We're gonna need that end of the table," Taash said, looming over Emmrich with a platter of sliced fruit.

The necromancer looked up wearily from the disorganized pile of papers. "Of course, Taash. Rook and I are nearly done in any event. We only need a moment longer."

"Oh, it's all right, Professor. Dinner won't be ready for another..." Bellara lifted the lid off a pot, letting a cloud of steam escape. "Ten minutes? Or... maybe five? The rice just has to cook and then I need to make sure the carrots are cooked through and—"

"And we're gonna need that end of the table."

"All right, all right, Taash." Rook reached out one long arm and scooped the papers into a slightly more cohesive pile.

Emmrich looked chiding as he eased the papers out of Rook's hands and spread them out again. "We all know you hate paperwork but if we don't reply to Archon Pavus in the next two days, we'll lose our opportunity to set that trap for the Venatori we discussed and then you'll be disappointed. We have ten minutes. That's all we need."

"Bet you never thought you'd be corresponding with the Archon of Tevinter," Davrin said from his supine position on the couch.

"I never did," Rook agreed with a sigh. "Never thought I'd be co-parenting a griffon either, but stranger things have happened." He turned back to Emmrich. "Couldn't you just draft the letter and have me sign it? I'm a simple man. Warden training never covered this sort of thing."

"Ah, yes," Emmrich said, his voice dry as dust. "The position to which I've always aspired: the puppetmaster behind the throne. It sounds intensely rewarding and not at all like a significant amount of unappreciated work." He tapped the half-finished page in front of Rook. "Focus, please. You'll be done before Bellara if you put your head down."

Rook obeyed, and while he was not actually done before dinner was being set on the table, he managed not to spill any of the stew onto his letter to Thedas's newest head of state. Seeing Rook start to sweep the other papers onto an empty dining chair, Emmrich collected them and set them in a prominent spot on the coffee table. He suspected Rook might try to escape with Davrin after supper, but with luck he could coax another twenty or thirty minutes of work from him before he disappeared.

They all sat in their usual places; unspoken agreement usually left Harding's and Neve's places empty, though Taash took Harding's from time to time.

"What do you think?" Bellara asked after they'd all eaten in silence for a few minutes. "It's pretty simple, I know, but I thought we've all been working so hard and we could probably just use something hearty. Not that I think simple is bad, it's just—"

"It's good, Bellara," Rook said, giving her a wan smile. "I like the herbs." He glanced down the table at Emmrich. "And it's better than toast."

"Good toast is all in the quality of the bread," Emmrich sniffed. "And it is a perfectly healthy and substantial breakfast, especially with jam. Which I did provide."

"It was good," Taash said, stirring their rice into their stew. "I like burnt toast."

"It wasn't all burned," Davrin said, glancing at Rook. "There was a whole range of doneness to choose from."

"Don't listen to them, Professor," Bellara said. "It was really nice of you to make breakfast for us. The stove here is just really tricky. I think Lucanis was the only one who really mastered it."

There was a long silence. "Anyone heard from him?" Taash asked.

Emmrich shook his head. "Not since the dinner after Neve's memorial service." He poked at his stew, frowning. "I imagine he's embarrassed so I wanted to give him a little time before contacting him." He looked around the table. "Has anyone else tried?"

"He's been here, a couple of times," Bellara said quietly. "Late at night. I ran into him once but he didn't want to talk long. And once he left me a note about some things he thought I might like in the market in Treviso."

"He shouldn't be embarrassed about Spite popping out," Taash said with a frown. "We've all seen it before. And he was really stressed that day."

"We all were," Rook agreed.

"It would have been more surprising if Spite had said nothing," Emmrich said, the corners of his mouth turning down. "Spirits struggle with understanding death and so our losses — Neve and Harding — are difficult for him to process. I know that Manfred has struggled with it and he has a body of his own to help him make sense of the physical realm."

"Yeah. I found him in Lace's room one day," Taash said. "He was carrying around one of her arrows. I don't know where he found it." They looked at Emmrich with a soft, sad expression. "I took it away from him. I didn't want him to get hurt."

Emmrich nodded, meeting their eyes, his own expression gentle. "Thank you, Taash. You are good with him and I know he appreciates it." He sighed. "I wish Lucanis would let us help him. He doesn't need to grieve alone."

"Maybe..." A crease appeared between Bellara's brows and she poked one of the carrots in her stew with a spoon. "Maybe next time I see him... or no, I'll leave him a note. Or I'll... if I wait up for him..."

"Bellara?" Rook asked.

"Oh. Right. Sorry. I mean I'll see if I can get him to come for dinner."

"Tell him we even let Emmrich cook for us," Davrin said with a grin. "That ought to do it."

A Duty Relinquished

For most of my adult life, I was utterly certain that my path led to lichdom. It had been my primary goal for the decades I spent researching and preparing. And when I was on the verge of achieving it, I set it aside for Manfred.

I will never regret my choice but it has left me feeling lost. What can I do that could possibly contribute to the Mourn Watch — to the safety of Thedas — as much as I could have as a lich? I want to live a life of meaning. How do I do that now?

— From Emmrich's Diary

Note Left on the First Talon's Desk

Lucanis—

It does not appear that this stack of correspondence has shifted one iota since I put it here two days ago. There are a number of important letters requiring responses, and I need you to review the Acrisius contract as soon as possible. The Crow to whom it was assigned has not returned and we will need to find a replacement. I do not need to tell you it is our largest outstanding contract. It would go a long way toward diminishing the debts accrued during the occupation.

I also notice that you are spending a good deal of time in Minrathous on your personal projects. If you have time for that, you have time to attend to duties in your own House.

You are brooding, Lucanis. It has gone on quite long enough. You cannot let yourself wallow in grief over a girl you had been seeing for only a matter of weeks. You have responsibilities among the living, of which I am one.

I miss seeing you at dinner. I expect to see you at the table tomorrow night. I'll have the staff open a bottle of your favorite red, and we can talk about that stack of letters.

—Caterina

Scrawled at the bottom of the note:

It was three months. I will see you at dinner.

—L

Letter Left at the Cantori Diamond

Instructions on the letter say that it is to be collected by the addressee upon his arrival.

Rook,

I will be away from Treviso during your visit, as a last-minute trip to Minrathous was necessary. I have been training some of the younger Crows there. They are getting very good at hunting Venatori, and when prey is scarce there is always work to be done in Dock Town. Manual labor builds stamina and muscle, both of which serve an assassin well. I remind them of this when they complain. The cleanup efforts are finally showing some results. It is not enough, but it is something.

I have enclosed the details you asked for: positions of the remaining Antaam units in Antiva and an outline of potential targets to reduce Venatori power in southern Tevinter. I know we planned to read them over together, but I hope you will still enjoy a cup of coffee at Café Pietra in my absence.

It is very late and I must still get these papers to Teia so she can deliver them to you. I leave at dawn and even the First Talon must sleep for a few hours. Give my regards to all at the Lighthouse. Tell Bellara that on my next visit I will bring the ingredients for the fish dish she told me about.

Lucanis

Emmrich found Lucanis's letter in the "important stuff" pile on a cabinet in Rook's room. Rook had yet to accept the necessity of a desk and Emmrich indulged him in his denial. There were more important matters than whether Rook had a proper place to work so it was often left to Emmrich to ensure reports and letters were organized, responded to, and filed away.

Any guilt Emmrich might have felt at reading personal correspondence dissipated before he finished the letter. It explained Rook's despondent mood upon returning from Treviso and fanned the embers of Emmrich's concern for Lucanis. It wasn't the first time he had been conveniently absent in the last month. Was he avoiding all of them or only Rook?

Tucking the letter into the personal correspondence drawer of the file cabinet which he had insisted on Rook getting, Emmrich made his way to his room, determined to help his young friend.

A Letter to Villa Dellamorte

Dear Lucanis,

It was a shame that we missed you in Treviso. The obligations of duty are harsh indeed if a little time cannot be set aside for coffee with friends. We shall have to plan more carefully to ensure our next visit has a happier end.

I trust that all is well in your House and that the other Houses do not trouble you unduly, and I trust that you will reach out to us if that changes. While you are extremely capable, it is a pleasure to be able to help a friend even when he hardly needs it. Otherwise with our time not spoken for, you leave us at the mercy of Orlesian nobility who wish to make Rook the most popular invitee for the Season.

Manfred sends his well wishes and his apologies for losing one of your coffee mugs. He has taken to dropping items over the edge of the courtyard for Assan to retrieve. I am certain you can imagine how that went.

All my best,
Emmrich

Note in the Lighthouse Dining Hall

Hey, guys? Lucanis is coming for dinner tomorrow and the kitchen is a mess. I've got the pans soaking but I've got to go see Strife about that new Fade bubble thing and I won't be back until late. Can someone make sure they're ready?
—Bellara

Sure. And I'll sharpen the knives. He's picky about the knives.
—Taash

Regretfully, I'll miss this reunion. Johanna and I have our biweekly discussion with Myrna. Give Lucanis my best.
—Emmrich

Oooooh, no. He'll be sorry to miss you, Professor. We had this amazing mushroom curry planned for you. But we'll still make it! It heats up really easily.
—Bellara

Rook will still be in Orlais, but I'm in. I've got a couple of bottles of rum for after. Is anyone bringing dessert?
—Davrin

Note Left on Emmrich's Chair

The note, on a torn piece of paper, is weighed down with one of Emmrich's books.

Emmrich—

I am sorry to have missed you this evening — I must have forgotten about your appointment at the Necropolis. Everyone seemed to enjoy the dinner. Bellara said she would make sure some of her curry was saved.

Do not worry about the coffee mug. It came from the Fade, apparently, and unto the Fade it was returned. Tell Manfred that Spite sends his regards. That is not exactly what he said, but it is close enough.

We will talk soon.

—Lucanis

Letters to Villa Dellamorte

Two letters are delivered by a young Crow: one addressed to the First Talon giving an update on a contract on King Markus of Nevarra, and the other addressed to Lucanis Dellamorte.

Dear Lucanis,

The mushroom curry was lovely. I may not have mentioned it before but mushrooms are an especial favorite of mine. Bellara informed me that you provided the ones she used in her dish. Were they sourced from Treviso or were they imported? I've little skill with cooking, myself, but I have an appreciation for excellent ingredients.

On a less personal note, would you tell your Crows that I cannot provide them with access to King Markus nor can I confirm or deny his present state of being? I appreciate that the difficulties in fulfilling the contract are frustrating but there is little I can do to resolve them. (I would make this request of Teia or Viago but I'm honestly not sure how contracts work, and I would hate to offend them. You, I know, won't hold my ignorance against me.)

All my best,
Emmrich

Report on Fledgling Training

The note below is appended at the bottom of a four page dossier.

Viago—

I had an idea for an interesting loophole in the Nevarran royalty contracts. Did you know each Thedan state has its own legal definition of death? I spoke to my contract negotiator and she had some notes. We should discuss.

—Lucanis

Letters Between the Lighthouse and Villa Dellamorte

Emmrich,

The curry was Bellara's recipe, but I selected the mushrooms myself in the market. I took great care with this. In case you didn't know, it is a bad idea to eat a dish containing Antivan mushrooms. Or a dish made by an Antivan that contains mushrooms. That is, unless you know the Antivan very well.

You should visit the Grande Markets again. Trade is recovering quite well and both the quantity and variety of goods continue to grow. I walk there sometimes to smell the spices and clear my head. The work of the First Talon is demanding in ways that are both tedious and treacherous. Caterina keeps a close eye on me, but any missteps still have my face on them.

The Crows should not have bothered you regarding the King. I will speak to them and it will not happen again.

Lucanis

~~~~~

My dear Lucanis,

I would trust any mushroom dish that came from your hands, though I couldn't in good conscience suggest the reverse. There are few Mourn Watchers with what one might call "well developed culinary skills". The last time I took someone to dinner, I had to raise three chefs from the tomb of a royal house to ensure I didn't have to raise my date after dinner. (Mourn Watch humor, I'm afraid. Vorgoth would have thought that terribly amusing.)

I would love to visit the Grande Markets without Antaam barricades blocking the view. Treviso is especially lovely at night with the lanterns casting a golden glow. Don't tell Bellara but I am far fonder of the Antivan lanterns than the elven. Do you think a few of them might look good in my room at the Lighthouse?

I wonder if you would help me with a point of research. What poison might have the following effects: dryness of the mouth and throat; loss of voice; flushed, dry skin; hallucinations; loss of balance?

All my best,
Emmrich

~~~~~

Emmrich,

The symptoms are consistent with half a dozen poisons. I would need more information. How fast was the onset? How recently had the person eaten or drunk anything? Was it strongly flavored or bland? What makes you think this person may have been a target?

I once knew of a young woman who died under mysterious circumstances. She had been having a love affair with the illegitimate son of the Sixth Talon and all the Houses were on edge suspecting assassination. It turned out that she was merely careless and baked a pie using misidentified fruit.

The fallout lasted years. House Amato is suspicious of House Valisti to this day.

Lucanis

~~~~~

Dear Lucanis,

I suppose it didn't occur to her House to ask the young woman. That would have been the simplest way to clear up any confusion. Though on second thought, corpse-whisperers aren't common outside of Nevarra (or even inside Nevarra) so it may have been a matter of resource constraints rather than lack of desire.

I've noticed that many outside of Nevarra consider death to be the end, instead of the start of a new journey. It sounds a very lonely way to live. There is little space in it for the joy of the journey when one is constantly dreading the end. I know this from personal experience.

I would happily provide you with more information on the suspected poisoning but I dare not trust it to a letter. Some of the details are sensitive.

All my best,
Emmrich

~~~~~

Emmrich,

It is true that Antivans and Nevarrans have very different views of death. You and I have talked about this before now, though I am not sure we came to a full understanding. I do not dread the end. If it comes, it comes. The things I dread are on this side of that doorway.

I do not know how important it is to you to find out about the poison you mentioned. There is an herbalist I know with a stall in the Grande Markets. I would be happy to provide a letter of introduction, if you let me know that you plan to visit Treviso.

If you come, I would not let it be widely known that you are a corpse whisperer. The Crows prefer the dead to remain dead, and even more so that they remain silent. Knowing that one with your skills was in the city would set many teeth on edge, and you do not want to mingle with nervous assassins.

Lucanis

Note Left on Davrin's Desk

Dear Rook,

If you are looking for me, I will be in Treviso for a day or two. I collected the report you were writing for Teia and Viago, and a list of requests from the Grande Markets. While I didn't get a chance to see you before I left, I have added sword oil and leather straps to repair your shield handles (though if you didn't fling your shield around so much, perhaps you wouldn't have to repair it so often).

I will give Lucanis your best, as I plan to see him.

Your friend,
Emmrich

Lucanis was determined to clear the top of his desk before lunch. One of the piles of correspondence had already toppled and only excellent reflexes had saved his inkwell from being spilled across an important draft contract. He hated paperwork, but preferred it to the looks of disappointment he got when explaining why a promised letter was yet again delayed.

And then there was the Acrisius contract. Caterina had asked after it that morning over breakfast and it wouldn't do to put her off yet again. It took him a moment to find it; his grandmother's system of organization was idiosyncratic.

Once he had it in hand, he frowned. It was distinctly thin — odd in a contract for such a large amount. He flipped through the pages, his scowl deepening with each fresh error and shortcut he encountered. He could guess who had compiled the dossier, and that person was currently occupying the guesthouse, on his orders.

"Damn it, Illario," he muttered.

He could walk down and ask him about the dossier himself, except that his cousin was probably sleeping off the previous night's debauchery. The allowance he and Caterina had decided on would not stretch so far as to cover such excesses, but then Illario had never had to pay for drinks if he didn't want to.

He would send a note down with one of the servants, he decided, and perhaps go and find his cousin later that afternoon. He returned to sorting the correspondence and was making real progress when he began to be distracted by a tickling sensation at the back of his mind.

"Spite," he warned. "I'm busy."

Hands!

"Our hands are needed for writing now, Spite," he said through gritted teeth.

Feet! There are FEET.

"Spite, what are you—"

Curiosity! Is. HERE!

Lucanis blinked. "Here?" He heard the sound of boots in the hall and recognized the step as that of one of the servants. "He can't be here," he said, more in prayer than conviction, and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"A visitor for you." The girl held out a silver tray with a calling card on the back of which was the stylized scarab of the Mourn Watch. She looked vaguely unsettled, though she was clearly doing her best to remain professional.

"Mierda," Lucanis muttered. He gave the stacks on his desk a defeated glance and then turned to the girl. "Tell him I will be down shortly."

The servant cleared her throat. "The gentleman has a... he has brought a..."

"A skeleton. A walking skeleton. Yes, I know."

There was a pause, and then she gave him a curt bow. "Very good, signore."

When they were alone again, he leaned back in his chair. "We need to talk about this, Spite."

Open the curtains. Want to SEE!

Lucanis scowled. He'd been keeping Spite under tight control of late and it was clear the demon was growing restless. "Fine. Watch all you like, but keep your mouth closed. Leave Emmrich to me."

No mouth! Only OUR mouth. You won't let me. In there.

"I won't let you in because of what you did at the Lighthouse last time." He cringed internally at the memory. If he had to live with an unasked-for mental passenger, why did it have to be one that screamed his innermost thoughts when things got tense? Bad enough that Emmrich could hear Spite anytime he was close, or that the demon had shown he could draw Rook into his mind at will. When Lucanis lost control, absolutely everyone would know what he was thinking.

Harding always said. Plants need light.

"You're not a plant," he snarled. "You won't shrivel if I don't let you out." There was no reply, just a tense silence, broken at last by Lucanis's sigh. "Just... no surprises, Spite. Some things are better kept between us."

He felt the demon retreating somewhere deeper and chose to take that as assent — or at least as close to it as he was likely to get.

"Let's go and see what he wants."

Shopping List for the Grande Markets

For Bellara

• Garlic
• Lemon
• Balsamic vinegar (must be Antivan; ask Lucanis for recommendation)

For Davrin

• Truffles (perhaps a few varieties, something other than gingerwort)
• Block of cherry wood

For Taash

• 5 feet of cotton cord, preferably in red and grey (look into Rivani funerary decoration and mourning colors)
• Ginger
• Gold jewelry, perhaps armband (find engraver — bow? quiver of arrows? wheel of cheese might be trampling where unwanted)

For Rook

• Sword oil
• Leather straps for shield
• Sense of self-preservation (how much would that even cost? there's not enough grave gold in the Grand Necropolis)

For Lucanis

• Wool yarn (ask Teia for color suggestions)

Café Pietra was as lovely as Rook had described. Emmrich requested a table close to the water, where a steady procession of gondolas made their way up and down the canal. Lucanis took a seat on the other side of the table, wearing his tension like a cloak. Emmrich hoped that a well-brewed cup of coffee and a breeze off the water would prove relaxing. He leaned his staff against the low stone wall and turned his chair slightly so that he could more easily watch the gondolas drift by.

"Manfred will be sorry he missed this," Emmrich said, "but he's started lighting spontaneous fires when he becomes excited and I feared the market would overstimulate him."

"You might have warned me about that before we left him at the villa," Lucanis said with a trace of a smirk. "But you're right. It is for the best. Spite and he together would be a handful."

"I left him with a drawing pad and a pack of colored pencils. It should keep him distracted enough that there will be no incidents while we are gone." Emmrich was nearly sure of it.

He smiled at the server who came to take their order. After she left, he returned his attention to Lucanis. "I wonder if you might consider something similar for Spite. He could draw with your left hand while you worked on letters with your right. It might take a bit of practice but you may find it worth the effort."

Lucanis's face shifted through at least three distinct microexpressions too quickly for Emmrich to read before settling on bland. "Maybe I will talk to him about it. He does seem to like drawing, though I've never understood what the drawings are supposed to be."

"Self-expression is as important to a spirit as it is to a mortal being." Emmrich studied Lucanis, trying and failing to discern anything from him aside from the placid mask. That alone, however, spoke more to Lucanis's discomfort than he might like. "Have you asked Spite about his drawings?"

"Once. His answer didn't make sense." Lucanis's gaze flicked methodically over the other patrons, moving from table to table like a merchant cataloguing his wares. "Tell me, have you made any progress with Rook on managing his papers? He told me you were helping him." His eyes met Emmrich's for a beat and the corner of his mouth quirked up. "He did not use the word 'help' at the time."

"No, I don't imagine he did." Emmrich smiled back at Lucanis, pleased by his amusement and the brief eye contact. "Some days, I shudder to think what Rook's reports to his Warden superiors would have looked like if this is the more organized version. It's good that he has other strengths — and that he is able to rely on the help of his friends."

The server returned with their drinks and Emmrich shifted his hands out of the way to make room for the cup of coffee. "It's always good to know that we can rely upon our friends." Emmrich kept his tone idle and didn't look at Lucanis. The young man would be less likely to respond if he thought the comment too pointed.

"It's too bad I can't have you in to consult," Lucanis said, reaching for his cup. "Crow business, you know. Caterina had her methods for dealing with the affairs of the estate. Good methods, I suppose, but I have been a slow student of them thus far."

"I find it difficult to believe that you are a slow student in anything," Emmrich said, indignant on behalf of his friend. "You are a thoughtful and intelligent man. In my years as a professor, I have found that when excellent students struggle, the fault is with my teaching."

Wincing, Lucanis tightened his grip on his cup. "The fault is not Caterina's."

"Be that as it may," Emmrich continued, sitting back with his cup held on the palm of one hand, "I'm sure I would prefer the Lucanis methods to the Caterina methods. I have seen you work and trust your judgment."

Just like. Touching. CANDLES.

Lucanis's face went rigid.

In contrast, Emmrich brightened. "Spite," he said, delighted, "have you been playing with fire? Or has Lucanis?"

"Probably he's thinking of Manfred," Lucanis said in a tight voice. He cleared his throat and took a sip of coffee. "You know how jealous he is of Manfred's fire."

His eyes took on a faraway expression for a moment and a crease appeared between his brows. "He has... missed you."

"And I have missed him," Emmrich said easily. He had lived through too much to be chary with his friends. "As I have missed you. You've always had a way of making me reconsider what I take for granted to be true. You don't know how valuable — and rare — that is."

Emmrich waited for a reply, but none came. He sighed. Lucanis had taken none of the bait which Emmrich had set out, and so he was left with direct confrontation. He sipped his coffee then set it down, placing it so carefully on its saucer that it hardly made a click. "Lucanis, I must ask: have I done something to offend you?"

The change in Lucanis's expression was swift; it melted into concern like drops of condensation sliding down the edge of a glass. "Why would you think you have offended me?"

"You've been avoiding me." Emmrich lifted a hand to forestall any objection. "Please do me the courtesy of not denying it. Both of us know that you have. What I don't understand is why. If I have caused offense, I promise that it was unintentional and I would make amends, if I could."

"Emmrich..."

Lucanis looked down at his cup and paused so long that Emmrich wasn't sure whether he planned to go on. "I only... I wanted to avoid another incident like what happened at the Lighthouse, with Spite. To lose control that way — I thought we were past that sort of thing."

"Lucanis." Emmrich debated with himself for a moment, then leaned forward to rest his hand lightly on the other man's forearm. "Both you and Spite were under a great deal of stress that day. No one faults you for struggling. All of us were struggling and you were the only one with the added burden of managing the emotions of two beings at the same time."

He gave Lucanis's arm a gentle squeeze. "Being embodied is still new to Spite. Slips are to be expected, especially in times of great strain. What matters is that both of you keep trying."

Lucanis ran a hand over his face. "You are generous. And I don't worry about blame. Not from my friends. It is just that..."

Little boxes. Everything. MUST BE. Inside the lines.

"Spite. Stop. We agreed."

"Great artwork can come from painting outside the lines." Emmrich sat back, amusement tangling with his concern. "And great plans can come from thinking outside the box. Look at Rook's plans. I don't think anyone would call them orthodox and yet no one could argue with their success."

He smiled at Lucanis, wishing he would believe in himself as much as Emmrich did. "You and Spite are an excellent team. I have every confidence in the successes you will achieve together."

"I'm glad someone does." The Crow smiled darkly and looked out over the canal. "What do you think of your coffee?"

"It's excellent. A good choice."

Emmrich picked up his cup and looked out over the canal. The glide of the gondolas was mesmerizing, and the smell of roasting beans from the café was soothing. Perhaps he had never counted coffee as one of his favorite beverages but the chance to sit with a friend made it a delight.

Letter Delivered to Villa Dellamorte

Hey Lucanis,

Wanted to thank you for the bottle of Antivan brandy you sent back with Emmrich. It's got quite a bite to it! But also smooth. Kind of perfect for Antiva, I guess. Back home we've got mostly ales and it's hard to get much subtlety out of an ale.

Still goes down a treat, though. Damn, I miss the taverns in Highever. I wonder how many of them will ever come back. It's grim in the south, but there are some bright spots. The Inquisitor is leading recovery efforts there and I get reports from her from time to time. I know you said you've never been to Ferelden, but maybe in a few months we can change that. I'd love to show you some of my home, even if home isn't quite the same as it was.

Speaking of home, I hope you're settling into your new role, and enjoying spending more time in that castle of yours. I know, I know. You're trying to argue with me and I can hear it even across all of these leagues. It's not a castle. It's a villa. It's your ancestral seat. You didn't choose the decor. It's traditional. Et cetera, et cetera, et cetera.

I remember. But it's still your home and I know you are, in your way, as dutiful as a Warden. We both have a purpose that shapes and drives us, something larger than ourselves. I really respect that about you. First Talon — Maker, you must be busy. I know you're going to make us all proud, though.

Well, before I get even sappier, I should close. I'm looking forward to hearing from you, my friend. Maybe we'll see you again soon for dinner? You can cook that pepper thing that blows the roof of my mouth off.

Rook

Note Left on the First Talon's Desk

The message is delivered by a servant and left atop a stack of other correspondence.

Cousin—

Of course it was I who did the research on that contract. I was the one who was here, after all, shouldering the burdens of the House. With Caterina, of course, but she relied on me heavily during that time and it was my pleasure to serve her.

Of course now everything is different and I must survive on the scraps of your table and the dregs of affection the two of you are willing to share with me. I am not even allowed to sleep in my own bed. Everywhere I go I am tailed. You think I don't see them? The De Riva brat that was watching me last night was so green she could sprout leaves.

Caterina named you First Talon, cousin, so the contract is your responsibility. If you are unhappy with the work I did then do it yourself. You always were an overachiever.

—Illario

Scroll Left on Emmrich's Desk

A torn piece of parchment, folded in half, accompanies a scroll decorated in non-Andrastean iconography and a slim, leather-bound copy of a Rivaini prayer for the dead.

Thanks for the talk. Made some things clearer. Got these from the seer at home. The scroll was too long for me to read. You'll probably love it.

Heavy Envelope Delivered to Villa Dellamorte

Dear Lucanis,

Thank you for helping me with my errands in the Grande Markets, especially in finding an armband for Taash. They like it, I believe. At least, they have worn it every day since I gave it to them.

I had previously discussed with them the importance of the grave dowry to Nevarrans so I know they understood what I was saying with the gift, even before they saw the dragon and arrow engraved on it. But it led me to wonder whether you would appreciate something tangible to carry your remembrance of Neve.

We have not spoken of her. I suspect it is currently a wound too raw for touching. When you are ready, I am here. There are no time limits or caveats on my support.

Your friend,
Emmrich

Lucanis's Logbook

Dawn:
- Coffee
- Reviewed accounts (down to just one week behind, congratulations Lucanis)

Mid morning:
- Exercises (cut short — find time tomorrow)
- Averted staff crisis — must speak to gardener

Midday:
- Met with Teia and Viago (discuss new candidates)
- Midday meal. Might also be considered breakfast.

Evening:
- Supper with Caterina

After dinner:

A letter from Emmrich. It was heavier than expected and when I opened it, something shifted. A lapel chain slid out and hit the desk with such a light sound. Sinuous and bright, like the sound one blade makes touching another.

It lay there in a gold puddle in the candlelight, the shape of the clasps a perfect match for her earrings. Hammered-gold diamonds, where hers were brass. I remember the sound they made when she tossed her head. I remember the points of them across the back of my hands when I —

Nearing midnight:
- Exercises