Summary: What happens when the First Talon of the Crows requests you by name for a job? All eyes are on you and the Demon of Vyrantium as you take to the floor of a Trevisian Masquerade.
Word Count: 2.9k
Warnings: Assassination, creepy man
A/N: This was so fun to write! I hope you enjoy <3
DATV Masterlist
The note arrived with the scent of lavender and the heavy, unmistakable wax seal of the First Talon. You didn’t touch it at first. It sat there on the table, pristine and foreboding, as if opening it might unleash something you can’t take back. The address was what unsettled you most. Not “Veilguard Operative.” Not “Agent.” Just your name.
Rook De Riva.
It was signed in the slightly shaky, swooped script that you knew was Caterina’s handwriting.
You had sent for Teia as soon as it had arrived, needing the moral support before you could even open it.
“Congratulations,” Teia says, leaning over your shoulder with that sharp grin of hers. “The First Talon doesn’t call for just anyone. You got her attention.”
You scoff, pushing the note toward her. “If it’s so special, you read it. This is clearly a job for a Talon, not… me.”
“Don’t be a coward,” she teases, snatching it up before you can protest. Her eyes flick across the elegant Antivan script. “Well, well. Looks like you’re going to a masquerade.”
Your stomach twists. “A what?”
“A masquerade. You know, dancing, intrigue, a den of vipers dressed in silk and lace.” Teia folds the letter neatly and presses it back into your hands. “And you’ll need to dress the part.”
You glance down at your worn leathers, the daggers strapped securely to your thighs. “This is the part.”
“Not this time,” Teia says, already calling for an attendant. “You’re going to look stunning. “Deadly, but stunning.”
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The mirror feels like an enemy, but you can’t tear your eyes away.
The gown Teia had commissioned fit like a second skin, the dark blue silk pooling around your feet like shadows. When it caught the light, the fabric sparkled like stars at midnight, just enough to look expensive without being gaudy. The dress was skin tight with a deep V cut to accentuate your chest and curves. There was a high slit, nearly up to your hip on one side. The hem was embroidered with silver vines, adding a touch of elegance you’ve never thought to claim.
The mask, silver filigree laced with Sapphires, hid enough of your face to make you feel anonymous, though it left plenty of room for scrutiny.
You don’t recognize yourself, staring in the mirror. Your lips have been colored with a seductive burgundy, making them look fuller than you thought possible.
“That’s the point,” Teia says, grinning as she adjusts the mask on your face. “They’ll never see you coming.”
When you step into the main room where the others wait, silence falls. Teia’s grin widens as she steps back to admire her work. Viago gives an approving nod, already slipping into his own role for the mission.
Lucanis is the last to react.
He stands near the door, and for a long moment, he just looks at you, his expression unreadable.
“You are not going alone,” he says finally, breaking the silence.
You blink. “Excuse me?”
“I’m going with you.” His voice is steady, leaving no room for argument. “For your protection.”
“I don’t need--”
“Yes. You do.” He steps closer, towering, but not intimidating. There’s something resolute in his tone, something that makes you pause. “I won’t let you walk into that room full of snakes alone.”
I wasn’t sure what he meant by that.
-----------------------
The ballroom is overwhelming the moment you step inside.
Golden chandeliers hang high above, casting a warm glow over the sea of silk and satin. The air is thick with perfume and intrigue, every masked figure playing a part in a grand, dangerous game.
You glance up, seeing Lucanis crouched in the rafters in his leathers. He gives you a subtle nod, and you tear your eyes away, trying not to draw attention as you head inside. Head high, don’t let them smell your fear.
A dance begins soon after your arrival, the music shifting to a lively rhythm. Teia and Viago have already melted into the crowd, leaving you feeling exposed.
Your eyes scan the room slowly, your hands folded delicately in front of your midsection as you gaze at the onlookers. Many sets of eyes are on you; you can feel the weight of them as you walk. Men and women rake their eyes over your form, some practically drooling.
A heavy-set magister with a leering smile---appears before you. His gaze lingers a little too long on your figure as he extends a hand.
“My dear, may I have this dance?”
Your stomach twists, but you force a smile, placing your hand in his. “Of course.”
The dance is a careful game. You keep your movements precise, your steps measured, all while his hand slides lower than it should and his grip tightens.
“So,” he says, his tone dripping with false charm, “you must be new to this sort of thing.”
“I get by,” you reply coolly, resisting the urge to yank his hand away.
He chuckles, leaning in closer. “Perhaps we could---”
Before he can finish, a shadow looms behind you.
Lucanis, now dressed in formal attire with a sleek black mask, steps in smoothly, his hand covering his heart as he bows slightly. “My apologies, I couldn’t help but notice your beauty among these dogs. May I have this dance, my Lady?”
The magister hesitates, his gaze flicking to Lucanis before he forces a tight smile. “Of course.”
You let out a quiet breath as Lucanis guides you away, his hand steady against your back. “I had it handled,” you mutter, though your heart is still racing.
You take a moment to study the crow---his dark Antivan suit tailored perfectly to his broad shoulders and thin waist. His mask is simpler than yours, a sleek black piece that lets his brown eyes show through. Lucanis glances down at you, his expression unreadable beneath the mask. “You shouldn't have to.”
The music slows, and the couples around you draw closer together. Lucanis doesn’t let go, his hand still firm at your waist. His other hand takes yours, his touch warmer than you expect.
“You’re blending in better than I thought,” he murmurs, his voice low enough for only you to hear.
You smirk faintly. “Part of the job, right?” Your gaze holds his, but your smirk falters. “Lucanis, you look…” Your voice trails off.
“Clean!” Spite hisses through his teeth.
You can’t help the slight laugh that bubbles from your chest, tight with anxiousness. “Nice,” you say. “Handsome.”
His lips twitch in the ghost of a smile, but his eyes remain sharp, scanning the room even as you move together in time with the music. His focus is unshakable, though his grip on you doesn’t waver.
“You’re staring,” you tease lightly, trying to break the tension.
“I’m watching,” he corrects, his tone steady but quieter now.
You move as one, each step drawing you closer to the center of the room. Your heart pounds in your chest, but you keep your face neutral, aware of the eyes watching you. As the song draws to a close, Lucanis dips you low. The motion is fluid, practiced, but as he holds you there, his grip tightens just slightly.
You’re close enough to feel his breath against your lips, his chocolate eyes locked on yours. For a moment, the rest of the room falls away.
Then he pulls you upright, the spell broken as quickly as it was cast. “Focus,” he says gruffly, releasing your hand.
You exhale slowly, forcing yourself to steady your breathing. “I am focused.”
Lucanis doesn’t reply, but the faintest flicker of a smile crosses his face before he steps back, the mission pulling him away once more.
It isn’t over yet, but your breath catches as you watch Lucanis slip into the crowd. For a man so popular, he disappears like smoke, weaving through the throng of silk and secrets with a grace you hadn’t quite been able to appreciate until now.
Your heart still pounds, the echo of his lips leaving your skin warm and your mind foggy. Shaking it off, you glance around, searching for Teia or Viago. They’re somewhere in this sea of masks, playing their parts as flawlessly as always. You envy their ease.
Lucanis’s words echo in your mind. Focus.
Easier said than done.
By the time the next dance begins, you’ve managed to slip into a rhythm. The first few exchanges were tense---too tense---but now you move with calculated grace, careful to keep your face neutral and your voice light. The target is watching you again, his lecherous gaze sweeping over you as you pass by.
You force yourself to smile, to keep your movements slow and deliberate. If he thinks you’re easy prey, all the better. A pretty, oblivious smile and doe eyes was all it took to entrap a man like him.
“Careful,” a familiar voice murmurs in your ear, and you nearly jump.
Lucanis is at your side again, his broad frame cutting an imposing figure even in formal attire. He doesn’t look at you, his eyes scanning the crowd, but his presence is a relief you hadn’t realized you needed.
“I thought you were blending in,” you say quietly, keeping your voice steady as you turn slightly toward him.
His lips twitch in the barest hint of amusement. “You’re drawing too much attention.”
You arch a brow. “Isn’t that the point?”
His eyes rove over you, following the dips and curves of your skin and exposed flesh. “Not all of it is friendly.”
You glance past him, noticing a pair of masked figures watching you from across the room. Their posture is relaxed, but there’s something about the way their heads tilt toward each other, their whispers concealed behind their masks, that sets you on edge.
Lucanis follows your gaze, his expression hardening. “Stay close.”
He doesn’t wait for a reply, his hand brushing yours as he steps closer. The touch is light, barely there, but it sends a shiver down your spine.
When the music shifts again, Lucanis offers his hand. His posture is formal, the gesture deliberate, as if daring you to challenge him.
You hesitate for only a moment before placing your hand in his. His grip is firm but careful, his touch steady as he leads you onto the floor.
The eyes of the room are on you, everyone else dancing branching out to give you space. You can feel it, but Lucanis’s focus never wavers. He’s calm, confident, and entirely unbothered by the attention.
The music kicks up, and he spins you, pulling your back to his chest, one hand splayed over your stomach, the other guiding you by the hand. The steps are simple at first, the kind you’ve practiced a dozen times in training. But Lucanis moves with an elegance that makes it feel effortless, guiding you with a confidence that’s hard to ignore.
“I didn’t know you could dance,” you murmur, your voice just loud enough for him to hear.
“I’m full of surprises,” he replies, his voice smooth and low, his beard tickling your ear as he speaks right into it.
A second later, you’re spinning away from him, his grip on your hand warm and firm as it pulls you back, clutching you close. His touch is like fire, burning through your skin straight to your soul. You let out a breath, trying to keep up with his steps.
“You’re good at this,” you admit reluctantly, your hand covering his on your stomach.
He doesn’t reply right away, but you can feel his eyes studying you intently. “You’re better than you think.”
The compliment catches you off guard, and for a moment, you falter. His grip tightens, steadying you before you can fumble.
“Focus,” he says softly, the word almost teasing now.
You roll your eyes, but a quiet laugh escapes you. “I am focused.”
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The target watches you from the edge of the room, his expression unreadable behind his mask. You’re acutely aware of his gaze, of the way he lingers a little too long, as if trying to decide whether to approach again.
Lucanis notices too. His hand shifts slightly, his fingers brushing against the small of your back in a subtle but protective gesture. He leans down to your ear, murmuring so only you can hear. “Get him to the balcony. This ends soon.”
You nodded subtly, and Lucanis disappeared into the crowd again. Immediately, you missed his warmth. The absence of Lucanis felt like stepping into shadow after basking in sunlight. Without him at your side, the weight of the room seemed to press in on you. You let out a steadying breath, forcing yourself to relax into the role you needed to play.
The target was still watching, his gaze lingering on you like a spider waiting for its web to tremble. You met his stare with a coy tilt of your head, your lips curving into a faint, inviting smile. Slowly, you began to weave through the crowd, your steps deliberate, drawing him in like a moth to flame.
He took the bait. His hulking form detached from the edge of the ballroom, his movements smooth but predatory. The mask obscured his features, but his posture screamed arrogance. He thought he’d won already.
You led him toward the open doors leading to the balcony, the cool night air brushing against your skin as you stepped outside. The space was quieter, the music and chatter from inside muffled. Stars sparkled overhead, their light glinting off the silver trim of your gown.
“I couldn’t help but notice,” he began, his voice thick and dripping with false charm, “you’ve captured the attention of the entire room tonight.”
You turned to face him, the corner of your mouth twitching upward. “And yours, it seems.”
“Of course.” He stepped closer, his shadow swallowing the soft glow of the lanterns. “A beauty like you doesn’t go unnoticed. Though I must admit, I’ve been curious about who you truly are beneath that mask.”
His hand reached for it, but you stepped back with a playful laugh, keeping the distance just enough to leave him wanting. “Now, where would the fun be if I gave away all my secrets?”
He chuckled, but there was an edge to it, a hunger. “Perhaps I can persuade you.”
The air shifted, the predatory undertone in his voice setting your teeth on edge. You glanced toward the shadows near the balcony’s edge where you knew Lucanis would be watching. The target was close now, too close. His hand grazed your arm, and your pulse quickened---not with fear, but with the need to act.
“You’re quite bold,” you said, your voice light but firm as you stepped back again, toward the railing. “And here I thought Tevinter men were supposed to be more subtle with their charms.”
The target smirked, following you like a hound to prey. “We are, but I’ve always found boldness more… rewarding.”
His hands grabbed your hips, sliding lower as he pulled you into him. You hummed, your hands splaying out over the railing behind you. The cool stone was solid beneath your palm, grounding you.
“And what is to be your reward tonight?” You asked coyly.
He smirked. “Oh, my dear. The reward is you.” He leaned in, flashing his teeth in a predatory smile. Your hand slipped to the dagger hidden on your thigh. As he went for your neck with his lips, you went for his with the blade. Your touch was light with your free hand, tilting your head as though to allow him access. Before he could taste your flesh, your dagger sunk into his skin.
Blood splattered across your cheeks, matching the darkness of your painted lips. The magister tried to cry out, but gurgled as blood filled his throat. You stepped out from under him, watching his body tumble over the side of the balcony.
“Ta ta, darling. So sorry, I must’ve slipped. A shame you couldn’t catch me.” You smirked, hearing a dull thud from the ground below.
A hand started to slip around your waist, and you turned, pinning them to the wall with a dagger to their throat. Lucanis’s lips upturned. You pulled the blade away, sheathing it back under your dress.
“That was exquisite, Rook,” Lucanis said. “For all of Viago’s complaining, he was right about one thing.” His hand slid to the small of your back, pulling you close to mutter in your ear. “You make a wonderful Crow.” He pulled back to look at you.
“Lucanis, you’re staring again,” you flushed from head to toe under his gaze.
“Perhaps I’m simply watching. It’s hard not to with such a beautiful woman before me,” his lips turned up, chocolate eyes appraising you.
“Who knew the Demon of Vyrantium was a flirt,” you teased.
“Ah, no, you seem to have mistaken me for Illario.”
“Just shut up and kiss me.” Your hand fists in the collar of his formal sirt, pulling him toward you.
Your lips meet, and Lucanis pulls you close, one hand on the small of your back, the other gripping your hip. You hear the music swell inside, fireworks going up into the air and exploding, bathing the gardens below in warm light. Lucanis leans over you, bending you backward, your hands gripping his shoulders as he holds you up.
Please check out @redheadsramblings fic How a Rowan became a Rook. She has me absolutely shaking in my boots from how she describes the Necropolis spooky stuff and her Varric voice is on point! Also link to more about red’s worldstate here.
Fine maybe I'm dumb (it's a possibility, I daresay) but I really can't understand all that Prison of Regrets plan.
What is Rook supposed to regret about?
Varric is always extra supportive like a proud mother. "You did great! You can do it! WOO-HOO GO VEILGUARD 🥳". Rook questioned their decisions after the ritual site (Harding/Neve choice and Varric got injured), but even then they don't have a chance to feel something close to regret.
Solas acts like a bitch (depending on the story) at the beginning, so I thought, "yup here it is" and I even tried to play the "oh i screwed up with Weisshaupt it's all my fault" card but he said it was a victory.
I mean.. ???
How Rook can even get trapped in the Prison if Solas and his Varric minion just didn't give Rook a chance to regret anything they did?
Solas was supposed to do one simple thing: grow guilt. His words mean nothing to Rook (depending on relationship) but Varric's? Oh, he could use it. He should've use it. Varric don't actually blame Rook, but make them doubt? Varric commenting on their deeds? Varric says something like: "are you sure you're up to this job, kid?" and "so there were no other options at all?" and "well, shit.. let's hope it was right thing to do".
Solas said he had to mold Rook into someone he could use as a replacement. But it seems like he molds Rook into the person he never allow himself to be but wanted to: someone who's not alone in the darkness, someone who has supportive friends to help get through all this, someone who doesn't feel guilt for every step they make.
Solas shouldn't be so surprised when he sees Rook in Minrathous because.. hello it's you "molded" them, no? You and your stupid supportive attitude. You're one of the reasons why Rook is still fighting.
