Tarquin chewed on his lower lip as he watched Ashur with worry. Since that night two weeks ago, since Elgar’nan had taken the city, Ashur had grown more and more reckless. He knew the man felt unimaginable agony between the sudden loss of his soulbond with Rook, the incessant voice of blight in his head, and the corruption crawling through every fiber of his being.
The spark of hope that drove Ashur even while blighted had vanished, leaving behind a man with nothing left to lose.
Only the letter from Neve, brought by messenger who made it through the Eluvian only minutes before Elgar’nan attacked, kept Tarquin praying desperately for a miracle. Rook was trapped within the Fade, but he frantically clung to the hope that Rook would find a way to free herself, and come help them.
"That was too close, Viper, Tarquin snapped as he pulled the other man back from a now dead ogre. "Rook will have my ass if I let you die now."
thank you @biowaredisasterbisexual @davrinsleftpectoral & @basedonconjecture for the tags (edit: @gingervitus i think we posted within minutes of each other <3)
Sunday is almost over so I shan't worry about tagging anyone else but look at me!!! I wrote today!!! I'm having so much fun with Cyri/Ashur rn, so have more of that. Don't ask what happens next (((:
divider from here(:
"If there's one good thing about Tevinter," she says, lips curling upward in a smile that rivals the rays of sun behind her head, "it's that there's never a shortage of mage healers. Means I get to keep my pretty face."
Ashur shakes his head good-naturedly, unaware that he's already grinning. For how long now, he has to wonder. Is he perhaps unable to quell it when in her presence? She seems to pull it out of him with those sparkling eyes, the gold ichor round her irises like a halo. Though it's maybe her smile instead, passing from her mouth to his like an infection he doesn't even have to worry about being close enough to catch.
Her eyes narrow, though her lips retain their curve of amusement, "What?"
"Just…" His eyes flit across the myriad of freckles scattered over her nose, the slight blush of her cheeks. "I'm sure it would take more than a crooked nose to ruin it."
What was intended as a veiled compliment is met with an incredulous eyebrow, "Do you know how many times I've been punched in the face?"
Ashur barks out a laugh so sudden, even Cyri's eyes light with it. She seems delighted, as though his laughter was the ideal outcome.
"Then I take it everyone finds you so charming," he quips, surprising them both.
It's only at that moment he realizes how close they are. His fingertips are still connected to the edge of her jaw, encouraging it up toward him. A fleeting touch, one he'd meant to disengage. He still doesn't. He's not sure why.
Cyri's face breaks into an outright grin, "I can be charming when I want to be."
"I'm aware." Ashur finds himself saying as he shakes his sleeve over his free hand.
He uses the silken sleeve to dispatch the blood still crusted beneath her nose. Her hand follows after the motion, the line between her brow belies surprise. An expression that looks a little like suspicion flits across her face before settling into something else entirely.
"Am I all better, then?" She asks, the words as soft as a summer wind off the coast.
Ashur swallows, summoning a sincerity that feels sinful when he admits, "Perfect."
Where’s there’s light, even a sliver of it, there’s hope...
Words to live by. Words that had been guiding her for years. Through the most challenging and difficult moments of her life. Out of the shadows and into the light.
For others, not herself.
Never had the lessons her actions had imparted upon others mattered more to her now, giving her hope and reminding her that she, too, was just as worthy.
It was all that she had.
Fleet of foot and quiet as a mouse, she ran. Tips and tricks she had learned the hardest ways but that kept her and her actions from being discovered. But now, thanks to her own actions, all had been revealed. She’d always known one day it might happen.
No good deed goes unpunished. A phrase her father had taught her in her youth. A reminder to help those who needed it no matter the personal cost to herself. Because there were many in Tevinter who needed help yet had no light to guide the way.
A phrase that the magisters had taken to justify their own actions. Twisting and turning their meaning until they meant a shadow of what they should. The first time she’d heard them used in such a way, her heart had ached and her faith had wavered and she’d almost given up hope...
Until a steady hand from her mentor had reminded her that there were two sides to every story, and that her words, if she ‘spoke’ loud enough, could drown out the magisters’.
Gritting her teeth, she leaned into that memory for all it was worth.
Light.
Shadow.
Life had guided her to this path for a reason, propelling her towards a destiny of bringing light to those who needed help finding their way out of the shadows.
It was now time to help herself.
my favorite thing about my rooks is writing their backstory cause it gives so much freedom and i just wanna say my mercar rook is absolutely ran through. half the magisterium. no questions. he has a type. and they have a type. it s him.
Rules: Free form a blurb or drawing based on the weekly lyrics prompt. It doesn't have to include the prompt just whatever you're inspired to do, do it! Then tag some friends so they can play as well. It doesn't have to be finished on Thursday, just post it whenever you can (you have a whole week between Thursdays!)
This week's lyrics:
You my lover, you my fighter, you my best friend ~
Best Friend by Juice Wrld featuring Fall Out Boy
He pressed his back against the alley wall, head down, tricorn hat covering his eyes. His took care to breath steadily, one breath in, one out, despite the fire in his veins and the corruption spreading through his body. It had been weeks since Neve, Rook, and their friend Taash had rescued him from the Venatori in the Dock Town Chantry courtyard.
He knew Weisshaupt had fallen from Neve and Tarquin, though the Templar told him he was still in contact with Grey Wardens, and their offer still stood.
Even if they all knew he'd never take it.
He opened his red rimmed eyes beneath his hat when he heard the sound of someone landing beside him. He didn't need to look at her to know who it was.
"The dragon's dead," she reported in a weary tone. It was something she should be celebrating, something that she knew had brought a renewed hope to the Wardens and some of their allies. Her own thoughts aligned with Neve, though, that the dragons had been pawns, and Minrathous's vengeance wouldn't be had until the gods were dead.
She only prayed to the Maker that Ashur would still be alive then.
"One less threat to the city then," he murmured.
"But not enough," she replied. Selene reached out with one hand to take his own. "You don't have to hide it from me, Ashur, I'd feel it through the bond anyway."
He felt her fingers touch his and started to yank his hand away, but she her grip held fast.
"You can't Blight me, Ashur. Once you've been Blighted, you can't be Blighted again," she told him.
"A month ago you wouldn't have done this," he noted, the softest hint of reproach in his voice.
"That was before Neve kicked me in the head for being a selfish bitch," Selene replied. "She's right. I shouldn't have pushed you away when I saw you again. And now its too late. But I'll take the time we have, if you're willing to give it to me."
He gave a shaky breath. "If I were a sane man, I'd tell you no, but I missed you too much, love you too much, to push you away, even if I am dying."
She shifted so that she was facing him, fingers pushing his chin up so she could see his red rimmed eyes. "I'm sorry, Ashur."
"I know, Amata, I know," he replied.
She gave a wet laugh as she carefully pulled down one side of his mask. She took in his gaunt appearance and blacked veins for just a moment before she leaned in and kissed him.
"Just promise you'll remember me, when I'm gone," he whispered softly against her lips. "Remember me. Not the Viper, not the Divine. Just me."
"Oh darling," her smile was bittersweet, "We both know there's no way that I'm going to come out of all of this alive."
He sighed and pressed his forehead against her own, resignation heavy in the air around them, and then Ashur kissed his soulmate again.
Thank you for the tags @jukkaricity, @elishnord @serensama and @gingervitus
Softly tagging @woundedsoul12 @thatgaymerguyb @mythals-whore if you haven't played yet or want to again.
Rules: make a moodboard to represent the vibe of your ship, but the pictures have to be text-based/memes/other things you wouldn't normally include if you were making a moodboard for them.
Arabella Mercar x Ashur Vesperian | The Viper
Relationship Song: King and Lionheart by Of Monsters and Men
Thank you for the tag @woundedsoul12 @elishnord and @hedwigoprah
No pressure tagging @wolfmoonwildflowers @mythals-whore @ubiquitous26 @weaveandwood
This week's word:
Cognizant (Adjective)
• Aware; fully informed; having understanding of a fact
Have some Ashrook - also on ao3
The blight tendril that connected the Archon's palace to Hightown shuddered with the force of Elgar'nan's archdemon falling onto it, the massive body giving one final, massive thrash before the light died in the beast's eyes. The sound rattled the Venatori and Antaam forces that fought for their blighted god. Eyes flickered upwards, fear flickering over their expressions since the first time the Evanuris had offered them power.
The odd discordant song that Ashur had heard in his head since the night he'd been blighted faltered as Elgar'nan's cries of rage echoed through all of Minrathous.
“Press them!” That command came from the leading Grey Warden, Evka Ivo, and the remaining Grey Wardens who had survived to make it to the Divine's Manor took up her call, warrior, rogue, and mage pushing back against the tide of Antaam and Venatori. The rest of their allies followed. Crow blades flashed in the light of the red sun. shouts of ‘Gold and Glory’ erupted from the Lords of Fortune. Flashes of green necromantic spells wove from hands from the Mourn Watch. Golden and bronze magic and knives pressed forward from the Veiljumpers. The remaining Shadow Dragons took up the cry “Bring the Light” as they moved with the rest.
“Bring the Light!” Tarquin's voice held the last vestiges of hope from a man who'd already lost so much.
The song in Ashur's head continued to stutter as he summoned fire from his fingertips, fighting with the strength of a man who knew he was dying.
Their enemies, distracted by the death of their god's archdemon and his screams of rage, faltered against the allies’ onslaught, slowly being pushed back from the barricades.
Elgar'nan's howls of rage stopped with a sudden wail of pain, and a resounding crack echoed through the heads of all as a jagged red tear split the sky. Venatori and Antaam watched in fascinated horror as their god and the archdemon were sucked into the tear, the sky shivering, and then the tear was gone, as if it had never been.
The Veilguard's allies overwhelmed the Venatori and Antaam. Ashur washed as their enemies fell like child's toys beneath the press of blade, bow, and spell. Those cognizant enough of their god's defeat ran, making a retreat, from Hightown, from the city if they could.
“They will not escape,” Teia Cantori, the Seventh Talon of the Crows declared, and she and Viago de Riva began issuing orders for the Crows to hunt the fleeing Venatori and Antaam down. The Lords of Fortune followed the Crows, spreading out into the city.
Ashur was aware of Evka giving orders for Wardens to aid them and hunt down any remaining darkspawn they could find before Tarquin tugged on his arm, “Ashur? Ashur!”
Ashur felt like his chest was full of liquid, and he began coughing. He felt Tarquin quickly pull him away from everyone else into a secluded courtyard and yanked the Viper mask aside as Ashur began hacking up a black goo. He felt Tarquin pounding on his back as he continued to cough, pain radiating through his body. The force of the coughing drove him to his knees on the flagstones. When he eventually began coherent again a large mass of black ichor lay on the ground in front of him.
“Viper?” Tarquin's voice held fear tinged with hope.
The Viper coughed again, and he felt someone shoving a waterskin in his hand. He spat out more black ichor before he drank from the waterskin, feeling thirsty as he had not felt in weeks.
“There you are,” the thick Orlesian accent of the second lead Warden, Antoine, said from no more than a foot away. Ashur jerked his head up, hand going instinctively in front of his face to hide it. He heard the elf snort. “Ah, Viper, do you not think Evka and I have figured out who hid behind the mask from the report Rook and Neve gave us?” he chuckled softly. “Fear not, we shall not tell a soul.”
“What in the Maker's name just happened?” Tarquin demanded of the Warden, eying the black ichor warily.
Antoine knelt and removed a metal tool from his belt, poking at the black ichor and spent a few moments examining it before he nodded with some satisfaction. “The Viper's body is attempting to rid itself of remaining Blight,” he informed them calmly. He stepped up and touched Ashur's cheek with one gloved hand and nodded. “Yes. You see? The black is beginning to fade, slowly. It may be some weeks or months before you are fully recovered, but I believe you will find the song of the Blight no longer overwhelming, Oui?”
Ashur froze as he realized the Warden was right. He could still hear something humming in the back of his mind, but it did not drive his thoughts, it did not push him towards the resentless, hollow hunger he'd felt for the past weeks. He looked at Tarquin, whose eyes had gone wide in awe.
“Ashur, your eyes! They're turning blue again!” Tarquin murmured, utter relief in his voice.
“I can still hear the song, though, humming in the background,” Ashur mentioned to Antoine.
The elf nodded, unsurprised. “Yes. You shall likely hear that the rest of your life. I shall have to run tests, but I suspect that you likely exist in a state similar to us Wardens now. Rook's friend, Bellara, is in a similar state as you.”
“They've come down from the Archon's palace?” Tarquin asked in surprise. He glanced at Ashur. “How long have we been back here?”
“An hour or more,” Antoine informed them seriously. “Most of the Veilguard has descended safely from the Archon's palace.”
“Most?” Tarquin frowned at that.
Ashur felt a growing sense of dread. He dropped the shields he'd so carefully kept up, seeking Rook's now presence.
He was met with the sense of a weak, fading heartbeat.
Ashur started in the direction of Rook's heartbeat, only for Antoine to catch him roughly by the wrist. “The best of the Mourn Watch and Veiljumper healers, as well as your own Magister Telani are with her now, Viper. If they cannot save her, no one can.”
Even Tarquin, who'd held onto his anger at Rook for not saving Minrathous for months after the dragon attack, looked aghast at Antoine's words. “What happened?” the Templar asked.
Antoine sighed. “Rook's injuries are extensive, both from without and within. The only reason she did not fall from the tendril was because Taash was able to grab her. She was barely unconscious by the time they got her down.”
“Viper? VIper where are you?” the three of them then heard Dorian calling for Ashur.
Ashur sighed, carefully pulling the mask back on over his face. “Dorian?” he asked as the Magister burst into the courtyard.
“Ah, I found you,” Dorian said with a slight smile. “You're going to be needed. We've reports that some of the surviving Templars are searching for you. The city will need you, I, and Maevaris to organize things and help restore some semibalance of order. Shall we?”
As he spoke Neve appeared behind the Magister, the familiar click of her leg echoing on the flagstones.
Ashur clenched and unclenched his clawed gloves. He could feel her heartbeat stuttering, and now that the Blight no longer overwhelmed all of his senses, felt the need to be with her now.
But he was weak from the effects of the blight ravaging his body, and he knew Dorian was right, that the influence of the Divine, as well as the two remaining Magisters, would be needed to keep the city from falling into further chaos in the wake of Elgar'nan's defeat.
His personal need warred with his responsibilities.
“Go, Viper, we'll keep a vigil on Rook,” Neve told him as she pushed past Dorian.
“If anything changes..” Ashur began.
“You will know,” Neve replied softly. “Rook's always been one to put her duty ahead of herself.”
The weak sound of Rook's heart beat now drowned at the hum of the blight song in the back of Ashur's head. With great reluctance, the Black Divine squared his shoulders and turned to Tarquin who was watching him with concerned eyes. “Very well. Tarquin?”
The Templar muttered under his breath. “Fine, fine, I'll act as your Knight Divine, for now at any rate.”
The two of them turned and followed Dorian into the Divine's Manor to prepare themselves for their tasks to come.
And the heart beat of one brave, reckless Warden thrummed in the background of it all.
Thank you for the Thursday Banger and WIP tags @woundedsoul12 and the WIP from Woundedsoul @juniper-and-dragonthorn @elishnord @davrinsleftpectoral @thedissonantverses and @jenn2d2
Gently tagging for either @sorcerousadventurer @kogarashi-art @imrowanartist @sandcastlekings @mushrooms-x-moss and @serialsforbellara
This week's lyrics
Kiss me in the dark Roll me through the night Hold me like you'll never let me go ~ Kiss Me in the Dark by Randy Rogers Band
On AO3 . Part 4 of Love In Our Veins Word Count, 2290
Have some post-game Blighted Ashur x Blighted Rook de Riva (This ended up being longer than I expected.)
She'd only come to the Archon's ball because Dorian had personally asked her to come as Rook, Savior of Minrathous. It had been a year since the city had been liberated from Elgar'nan's control and the Evanuris killed. Despite there still being a lot of rebuilding and recovery to go, there had been progress, and the atmosphere in the lower city was festival-like, with Dorian arranging for magical light shows in the sky for all to see in celebration. The Shadows, old and new, had carried on their own celebration over the past two days.
Tonight, though, protocol demanded she set Esperanza de Riva aside and take up the mantle of Rook once more. At least Veilguard and some of their allies would be in attendance as well.
The name de Riva meant nothing to people in Minrathous, so Esperanza in her Tevinter style garb and mask that covered her lower face was just another person helping the city recover. But everyone knew Rook was one of the notorious Antivan Crows, and that was what everyone expected to see tonight.
By some grace of the Maker, Dorian had made it a masquerade ball.
Rook stood perfectly still as Teia carefully fastened each one of the small black pearl buttons that closed the back of Rook's black lace dress. The torso of the dress had some transparency, but the black flower pattern woven into the lace easily concealed Rook dark gray, blighted veins.
"Beautiful," Viago murmured as he regarded his sister when Teia stepped back. He was dressed in black as well, in a distinctly Antivan style attire suitable for a ball rather than his usual leathers.
Teia circled Rook, inspecting her friend's outfit and gave a satisfied nod before she handed Rook the black beaded full face masquerade mask in the shape of a crow head. Teia and Viago had similar masks, though Viago's included touches of blue beading, and Teia's green to go with her dark green ballgown. "You will definitely catch a few eyes tonight, Rook."
"So long as it isn't Illario's," Rook murmured with distaste as she slipped her mask on, carefully tying the black ribbon over her Antivan braid.
She understood why he was included in Antivan Crows' party, as much for show since he'd been there helping during the final battle, and to keep him alive while Lucanis was away from Antiva. Neve and Teia had already given Lucanis their opinion on Illario's presence.
"Your Viper," Viago murmured. "Will he be in attendance?"
"It depends," Rook replied as she stared through her mask at her reflection in the looking glass. "If he does it will be as the man behind the mask, not the Viper himself." Rook couldn't lie to Viago about her relationship with the Viper, but she also hadn't told him Ashur's real identity either.
“Mm,” Viago narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. She knew he would likely uncover Ashur’s identity eventually. The Veilguard knew his identity because of what they’d found when they’d rescued him at the Chantry, but Ashur’s identity as Imperial Divine remained known only to a small number of people.
“Let’s go and find the others,” Teia suggested, aware of the quiet tension between the siblings. She lifted a brow at Viago who sighed and fetched his own mask, tying it in place before offering one arm to Teia and the other to Rook.
They met Lucanis and Neve at the south entrance to the palace ballroom. Rook immediately noted the similarities in their masks to her own. They were a different style, but every Crow wore a Crow mask of some sort. Illario was dressed in periwinkle and black, whereas Lucanis wore purple, a nod to Spite, and black. Neve was dressed in a Tevinter style gown of gold and teal and absolutely gorgeous. Neve was the only one in the group that wore a different sort of mask, hers depicting a dragon instead of a crow.
“Ahh, Neve,” Teia smiled as she greeted Neve. “If this one does not wise up and propose to you soon, perhaps I shall steal you away, you look ravishing tonight.”
Neve laughed goodnaturedly at Teia’s flirting, “I’ll keep that in mind,” she told the Seventh Talon as she tucked her arm into Lucanis’s.
Her friends and family had done well to keep Illario away from Rook since they’d arrived two days ago, but now she faced him head on. Tonight, she would put up with him for Lucanis’s sake only.
“I could escort you, Rook,” Illario suggested in a polite tone.
“My brother has already offered to escort Teia and myself,” Rook replied firmly, resolutely turning away from Lucanis’s cousin.
Rook did truly hope that Illario could earn his redemption. She knew much of what he was came as a byproduct of how Caterina raised him and Lucanis, but after his personal betrayal of her, she could never trust him as she once had.
Illario gave a jerky nod, and something like frustration flickered over his features before being replaced by a calm mask.
“Shall we go in?” Neve suggested, and Rook gave her a grateful look.
The two palace guards who had stood at the doors to the ballroom, pretending that they’d not heard a word of the conversation, moved in unison to open the doors and admit the Antivan Crows into the Archon’s ball.
The next few hours Rook spent mingling with the crowd. Aside from those in attendance from Tevinter and the Veilguard allies, there were notable guests from the south, including members of the Inquisition. She supposed it helped that the Inquisitor himself had more or less moved into the palace with his husband.
The Veilguard had evidently decided among themselves that one of them would be with Rook at almost all times, so she moved through the crowd with a friend at her side, and she also noted any time Illario came too close, her friends deflected.
Lady Myrna had accompanied Emmrich to represent the Mourn Watch, both dressed in dark green and black with skull motifs interwoven into their clothing as benefited the Watch. Emmrich had brought Manfred, who wore a smart looking suit jacket with fancy, skull shaped buttons.
“You look quite distinguished,” Rook told the skeleton when she had a moment to speak with him.
Manfred hissed happily. “Representing the Mourn Watch,” he informed her.
“And representing them well,” she told him, smiling behind her mask.
Most of the Wardens preferred the celebrations in the lower parts of the city, but Davrin, Evka, and Antoine were here to represent the Grey Wardens. Rook wondered where they’d found the formal Warden uniforms they all wore. Trust a Warden to wear something practical, she thought.
Taash, Isabela, and the other Lords of Fortune appeared in their usual peacocking and gold glory, catching some interesting looks from a few of the other guests.
Strife was with Emmrich, dressed in beautifully tooled leather and cloth. Rook had seen Irelin and Bellara moving through the crowd earlier. And anyone uncouth enough to look in askance at the Dalish tendency towards bare feet got a glare from every one of the Veil Jumpers allies in the room.
She was unsurprised when the Imperial Divine made his own entrance, dressed in incredibly elaborate ceremonial robes, a sunburst golden and ruby crown, and black veil over his features. The long sleeved robe and veil covered Ashur’s own blighted veins, and from the way he moved confidently through the ball, few would ever know he’d been blighted.
Tarquin and Rana flanked him, dressed in the impressive ceremonial Knight Divine and Knight Vigilant respectively. While Tarquin had been working as Knight Commander, there hadn’t been enough of the original command structure of the Imperial Templars left after Elgar’nan’s death and the deaths of many of his Venatori supporters. While there were a decent number of low ranking Templars that had survived and actually helped retake the city, there were few that Ashur knew or trusted that much beyond Tarquin and Rana. Thus Tarquin had been promoted to Knight Divine, and Rana to Knight Vigilant.
Rook noted that Archon Pavus had managed to arrive to have a number of his high ranking supporters from both within Tevinter and without making appearances at the celebration ball.
Dorian and Maevaris had predicted she would be popular tonight, and to her chagrin they were correct. The Veilguard and her allies were welcoming and happy to see her, and Dorian’s fellow members of the Inquisition whom she hadn’t already met were genuinely pleased to meet her. There were many others, though, that simply wanted to be seen talking with the Savior of Minrathous and a God Killer.
Some made respectable conversation with her, some speaking on mundane topics like the weather or the celebration, a few wished to talk strategy and hear stories of the battles the Veilguard had fought during the hunt for the gods. Then there were those whose insipid need to be seen talking to someone influential. It took years of patience honed in Crow training to not snap at them.
It had been awhile since she’d been forced to put on this much of a performance in awhile, and after a few hours, Rook quietly told Viago she was going to get some air and retreated to a balcony off the ballroom vestibules.
She leaned on the balcony railing, staring down at the glittering city below.
She heard the soft whisper of fabric and boots on the tile, relaxing slightly when she realized from the south that it couldn’t be Illario, and remained where she was.
“You hear you’ve been popular tonight,” Ashur’s warm voice said as he came to stand beside her.
“Unforunately,” Rook replied ruefully as she turned her head to look at him. “I understand the need for the ball, Dorian has to make certain kinds of displays as Archon, but I’ll be just as happy when it’s all over and I can wear my other mask.”
“We all have our parts that we play,” Ashur noted in an understanding tone. He placed his hand over hers, gently entwining their fingers.
“Rook, Esperanza de Riva, there are times they both feel like masks I wear for different occasions, nevermind that both of them are me,” she sighed.
“They’re a part of you,” Ashur agreed. “Just as the Viper and the Divine are both a part of me and roles that I must play at certain times.” She could hear the smile in his next words, “But there are a few people in this world with whom I can just be Ashur. I would like to think there are a few people in this world with whom you are just Espi.”
She smiled behind her own mask, “You know there are, and you know that you’re one of them, Ashur.”
“I had hoped you’d say that,” he admitted.
Espi laughed softly, “There are few people outside of my close friends and family that I take all of my masks off around, including the physical ones. You, you’re one of the few that sees me without any masks at all.”
Ashur reached up, gently cupping her jaw in his hand. “And you are one of those few for me, Espi.” He leaned forward as they stood in the shadows cast by the doors that led into the ballroom. Here in the night, she doubted many would be able to see the darken veins and gray marks the Blight had imprinted on both of them.
“We don’t recoil from each other, from the marks the Blight left on our bodies,” she murmured.
“I’ll tell you what you told me,” Ashur murmured. “Anyone who doesn’t see your beauty is a fool.” He moved one hand, pulling aside the black veil he wore, revealing the dark gray veins that still showed against his skin, and the dark circles beneath his eyes.
“Tarquin’s guarding the door,” he told her softly.
Rook found herself plucking at the ribbon that held her mask in place, pulling it off. Ashur’s smile was bright as he leaned down and caught her lips with his own.
They’d shared kisses before, both tender and fierce, but there was something more about this one, like he was telling her he intended to kiss her forever, for the rest of their lives. With her free hand she caught the back of his head and pressed him closer down to her, and heard the soft groan he made against her lips.
He pulled back and took a breath as he pressed his forehead against hers. “Epsi, dearest Espi. Whatever masks we wear for the rest of the world, I know I can remove them all with you. I love you.”
“Ashur,” awe and love wound their way through her tone. He saw the joy in her blue eyes as she caught his hand in hers. “I love you too.”
“The roles of Viper and Divine, Rook and Esperanza, they’re masks we’ll likely need to wear for a long time to come, but I’ll take whatever time we can get together, as just Epsi and Ashur,” he professed.
“I’ve been thinking of staying in Minrathous, permanently,” Espi advised him. “There’s still work to be done.”
He knew she meant both to help the city recover and as a Crow. He knew what she was, and he’d accepted it as a part of her life, a part of who she was.
Ashur kissed her again and showed her his happiness at her decision.
It would be a balancing act for both of them, playing all the parts that the world required of them, but within this moment, there was only Ashur and Espi.
