Summary: A summons home with an air of unease. Viago's talks are always a unique agony as a de Riva.
Warnings: if you aren't okay with stabbing, violence, and poisoning, pass this by
Word count: 2367
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Renn
Return to the Nest. No eyes.
Viago
She creased the corner of the short letter on loop, folding and unfolding it, brows furrowed. It had been a very long time since Viago had summoned her like this. Granted, usually she was just a room away and he could send a servant or come himself when she was needed. Being barred from bringing anyone likely meant it was de Riva business. No eyes meant no watchers, no one waiting, no one knowing. Did he have a lead on the traitors? Were they within her own House or was this a precaution because the Diamond was compromised? Given the state of Treviso and the country at large, the chance of it being a large contract felt slim. She was already on a job, anyways, he wouldn’t burden her with a second like that.
A heavy sigh slipped free and she chewed her lip. Telling no one she was leaving felt like a terrible idea. What if the gods made a move while she was gone? If the group needed the lyrium dagger and she wasn’t there… She ran a hand through her hair almost frantically, squeezing her eyes shut as she warred with herself. She could tell Lucanis, he was a Crow, he would keep the secret. He would respect the rules. But she had already broken the rules once for him and doing it a second time caused an ugly feeling to curl in her stomach, all sharp edges and claws. She had kept quiet about Spite out of shared sympathy. This was House business and he wasn’t a de Riva. Her hand snatched a sheet of paper she kept for letters, penning a quick note.
Personal errand, will be back soon! Keep this safe in the meantime.
-R
Vague enough, left out on her table in the open, and with the ringed hilt of the lyrium dagger left atop meant it was impossible to miss. She hoped. By the time they started looking for her, she’d be back, surely. Now she just had to sneak into the Eluvian room and make it to Treviso without incident. About a fifty-fifty chance on the Crossroads having hulking brutes rampaging through the market when she passed through. The Maker had gifted her quite the lucky streak, afterall. She changed into her usual leathers, unease settling over her like a second skin. She hadn’t really been out alone in a long time. After Viago had sent her away, she always had Varric or Harding. Then it was always some variation of company from the ragtag team she had assembled. It almost felt wrong not having someone following along behind her.
Shaking herself once, she crept silently from her chambers. No one was lingering on the balcony for a blessing, but she forwent the stairs, opting instead to lower herself directly from the upper platform to the steps below. There was a quiet scuff as she landed and she held her breath, ears straining. If someone had been in the main room, they could have heard it. Pressed into the shadows and taking quick steps, she didn’t wait to see if someone was coming to investigate. The Eluvian room felt emptier, more intimidating alone. A tall monolith looming over her. She swallowed that fear and passed through. It was a quiet walk to the Treviso mirror, the Caretaker not making a comment on her lack of escort. It made her wonder if Solas wandered off like this, too, during the rebellion. It had her stomach doing a sickening flip.
She pulled her hood low to her eyes as she passed through the mirror, just another Crow in the gathered masses at the Diamond. Taking to the rooftops, she arrived at the de Riva apartments shortly after her feet touched Trevisan brickwork. The window to Viago’s office was ajar, inviting, and that made her frown. It was meant for her, that much was obvious based on the letter, but that unease lingered. Dark curtains were drawn over the egress, sending up a cloud of dust as she swung inside. Muffled coughs announced her presence to the Talon long before she stepped in front of his desk. His eyes were fixed on bundles of what she assumed were contracts, neat piles of information and receipts organized on the tabletop. He didn’t look up.
“Clumsy entrance.”
She half shrugged. “Haven’t had to sneak through a window in a while.”
A disapproving scoff was her only answer before he waved a hand towards the window. “Close it.”
Mutely she obeyed, a finality to the action as the wood thudded into place.
“Have you been keeping up with your daily doses?” He shuffled the page he had been reading to the back of the pile in front of him.
“Uh,” she started awkwardly, blindsided by the direction of the conversation, “more or less. Some concoctions are hard to find while on the move like I was. I’ve had to take smaller doses of the rarer brews since returning. But… you didn’t have me come here in pure secrecy to ask about my poison habits, right?” A weak half smile jumped to her lips.
“A simple wonder.” He placed a palm flat over the stack of papers he had been reading, finally looking up. “One of many. Mirenna, am I a mark to you?”
The question had been uttered with a frigid edge that had every alarm bell in her mind screeching. It was the sharp danger she remembered from their early days together, the voice he had used in their training when she was too weak to pass a test. It was a knife to the heart and she felt a cold sweat coming on.
“I don’t-”
“Don’t play coy with me, child.” His voice was a whip, stealing her breath.
She swallowed thickly. “Vi, I really don’t know…” She felt lightheaded, hand clenching and unclenching next to her mageknife. Her heart was hammering against her ribs so hard she felt it would leave bruises.
He rose to his feet with a serpentine grace, slow and fluid. Dangerous. “Lucanis Dellamorte.” She felt ice in her veins as he took measured steps around the desk. “Imprisoned for a year by Zara Renata, known blood mage and Venatori leader. The Ossuary was her personal laboratory. Notes and remains recovered speak of experiments to foster demonic possessions to create more powerful abominations.” He circled her slowly, coming to a stop mere inches from her face. “But you knew that already.”
Not a question, stating the obvious. Her knees felt weak. “I…” Her voice was barely a whisper. “I wanted to be sure first. After my last job, I didn’t want to waste your time-”
“No.” He cut her off sharply, his voice quivering with rage. “You wanted to protect him. Be it because you fancied him, felt sorry for him, or have proper malice for this House, I don’t know. But you lied to me, Mirenna. To me.”
If she hadn’t spent most of her life learning to fight by his hand, been taught each strike and cut of a knife under his instruction, she wouldn’t have been fast enough to deflect his blade. She had to catch his offhand with her own hand, flesh meeting blade. He hadn’t given her enough time to summon her orb. Her backstep was cut short, years of training her giving him every tell and shortcoming she had as he hooked a leg behind hers and pulled. She tried to turn the fall, to twist in the air, but he snatched the front of her leathers in a fist, pushing her forcefully into the floor. He had a knife to her throat, knee pinning her chest, and his face a cold mask of indifference. She whimpered.
“Was this a solitary betrayal or have you been working against the House this entire time?” The words were calculated, all emotion drained from them.
A wheezing breath slipped free. “Viago, I didn’t mean-”
“Are you working alone against this House?” The knife bit deep enough to draw blood.
She could feel tears stinging her eyes, her heart breaking. Her voice was a hoarse whisper, wavering. “I am not a traitor.”
There was no warning of the strike. The dagger was pressed to her neck one second and then buried deep in her shoulder in the next. Her training allowed only a quiet choking noise in place of a scream, the pain white hot and blinding. Unbidden, her body reached for the Fade in self defense. She wanted to shout a warning to him as the familiar connection was made, unable to stop the electric swell of her magic, but there was an agonizing twist in her lungs instead. The magic was a screaming fury in her veins, molten fire replacing her blood. He almost had a look of pity in his eyes as she writhed.
“A clean entrance would have spared you that torture.” For a moment, he was simply her teacher again, no malice or disappointment in the words. Simple fact to teach a lesson.
She wanted to laugh. That hadn’t been dust. Viago would never have his home be that unkempt, she should have known better. Instead a choking wheeze slipped free, a smile that was more bared teeth than mirth on her lips. It all hurt.
“Did Dellamorte put you up to this?” He slipped so easily back into interrogating her.
“No,” she whispered, squeezing her eyes shut against the tears slipping free, “I was scared.”
The pressure on her shoulder lightened slightly. “That’s not enough, Mirenna.”
She struggled for a moment to pull in enough air to speak. He simply waited. “Wouldn’t have been fair.” Shallow breaths wheezed out the words. “His secret.”
“Is your loyalty to House Dellamorte or House de Riva?” He was leaning on the dagger once more and this time it dragged a low keening from her.
“To you.”
His eyes narrowed. “Still not enough.”
“Didn’t want to tell you.” Her teeth were grit as if she could cage the confession behind them. “Solas used blood magic. He’s in my dreams. Felt too similar.”
Through the haze of agony, she caught the brief flash of horror across his face. His weight disappeared and she pulled in a shivering breath. It left her in a painful fit of coughing, but she didn’t move otherwise. He paced twice from her to the desk and back. A manic energy seemed to hum in his veins.Distantly she could hear the sound of crumpling paper as he clawed hands onto the desk.
“I’m taking you off the contract.”
“Too late, Vi.” She was trying to smile again, a twisted facsimile. “No one else can do this. Too deep.”
“I am your Talon.” Swift and sharp, like a crack of thunder. “You work the contracts I say. You walk away when I say.”
Her head lolled slightly to the side. “Can’t put Solas in anyone else’s mind. That’s beyond you. Crossroads won’t know your next agent. Team won’t trust them. You’d doom the world.”
Something crashed to the floor, glass breaking. “Damn it, Renn, I sent you away to keep you out of trouble.”
“Trouble finds me.” She whispered.
A long silence stretched between them, the only sound her labored breaths. Faintly she could hear a drawer being opened, bottles being shuffled as he rummaged inside it. When he loomed over her suddenly she tried to smile. He dumped a vial into her mouth as her reward. Part of her wondered if he was simply done with her, the final draught he would gift. She swallowed it anyway. He was gone in the next breath and she simply laid on the floor waiting to see if death came to visit. The agony in her veins slowly burned away, leaving her with the throb of the knife in her shoulder. Slowly, achingly, she pushed herself into a sitting position. Her leg felt bruised from his strike, throat stinging from the knife, shoulder agony, body aching from the poison, hand screaming. But she was alive.
He was sitting at his desk again, his head resting in one hand as he poured over his paperwork. “Get out.”
She lingered on the floor, letting the pain settle into her bones, until he looked up just enough for her to see his eyes. They were sharp, furious, but in the depths, buried deep, there was guilt. He blamed himself for giving her the job, didn’t he? Her laugh was a wheezing bark, tears streaming down her cheeks before she could stop them. It was never supposed to be this messy, but wasn’t that the story of all her jobs? Swaying to her feet, she dragged herself to his desk. Wrapping a hand around the hilt of his dagger, she pulled it out steadily and deposited it on the nearest stack of papers. Ruby red blood spread like greedy fire across the parchment. With a half bow, she saw herself out through the door.
A trail of blood followed her through the apartments and out into the streets. There was a ground entrance she could use in the Diamond, a long climb along stairs back to the mirror, but it would be easier than the ziplines and trellises. She was maybe halfway back when a familiar shadow dropped from the rooftops next to her. She gave him a bright smile as he pulled his hood down.
“Oh, I think I know you.” She swayed on her feet as Lucanis braced her with a hand on her good shoulder.
“Rook, what happened? We’ve been tearing the Lighthouse apart trying to find you.” His concern was almost absent as he pulled at her leathers to examine her wound. He sucked air through his teeth. “Mierda, that’s deep.”
“Hmm, Viago doesn’t hold back.” She could feel a sob trying to claw up her throat. “He found out I lied.”
His face fell into a grim understanding. He ducked under her good arm, wrapping the other around her waist. “Let’s get you home.”
A wheezing laugh shook her shoulders as she leaned heavily against him. “I’d settle for the Lighthouse instead, I think.”
What if Lucanis packed Rook lunchboxes with little notes in them throughout the main story?
I saved the best for last. This is my favorite one of the bunch. Oh Spite. What a guy.
Between Spite's interest in fire, his fascination with Rook, and I'm suspecting some lingering rivalry with Lucanis for Rook's attention, of course he's going to demand to cook for them.
What would you want Spite to try to cook for you? (He's open to suggestions.)
I'm planning on writing more of these with the longer-term goal of modding these notes into DA:TV.
Maybe one day he'll even make something edible. We're all rooting for him.
***This is some fanfiction/fanart from an elder millennial (me) who is stuck in Thedas. These are NOT actual screenshots from the game.
...Yo... you've been staring at a computer screen way too long, homie. Life's not that binary. Isn't it?
Sure, there are grays... But when you come right down to it, at its core, beneath every choice, there's either a one or a zero. You either do something or you don't. So, I'll ask you again: are you a one or a zero?
Kinda tough deciding which of your friends get to die, isn’t it? Good news is you got this one choom who’s already dead - and he’d be honoured to join you on a wild, suicide run. You, me and Arasaka Tower. Kinda sounds like a Eurodyne lyric, I know, but trust me - we’ll go fuckin’ nova.
Artwork I did for the CP2077 Reverse Bang challenge !
I always wanted to draw a soft moment between Johnny and V (because they were both ok after Mikoshi- you cannot change my mind) and finally had an oppurtunity to do so!
The fic written for this piece is amazing as well! Read it here
theartofmadeline
kaledo-art
andulkaphoto
vaporwave
snowghoul
areudirty
jbbartram-illu
kianamaiart
