Emmrich x Fem!Rook - Respited by pages
Hiya! This had been in making for over a year. So even though it has been beta read by amazing @lucianhuntress few times, please forgive for possible grammar errors. My Rook, Shuraya, was older Lord of Fortune lady, but decided to go with general fem!Rook. Mourn watcher however, as said in tags, doesn't really work well in this set up. As Emmrich is such a sophisticated gentleman and it is his POV, tried to write it as fancy as could. If some wording felt funny, sorry, English is my third language. You have been warned.
“Come again?” Emmrich asked, his brows knitting together. He was trying to figure out what his newly appointed disciple meant.
“Downstairsss!” the bones hissed back while possessively holding on a small closed urn, origin of which was unknown and thus concerning. Even after spending a few months practically living at the Lighthouse one should still be wary of the Fade and what it can hold. Especially knowing who the original landlord was.
Emmrich let out a sigh that had been building up in his lungs. Manfred had been showing off more and more independence ever since after their last run in with Hezenkoss. And well, his second birthday as Rook called it. A choice that he didn’t regret in slightest, yet at times dared to question. Especially when this precious soul started to misbehave like a child. It had always been in its nature to display curiosity which, as a professor, Emmrich was more than ready to satisfy. He understood and shared it with him. But even he, in his youth, had not been so recklessly curious as to trespass into the most forgotten, dust-choked corners in pursuit of relics after being told not to.
Four times.
Alas, he was a patient teacher. Curiosity needs to be embraced and guided to the right channels. Maybe one day it might evolve into something great. That would be a real dream come true for him. So instead of continuing this interrogation Emmrich held out his hand, requesting the urn. Manfred held onto his master’s gaze then looked at the expecting palm then back up to him. His shoulder bones dropped as he unenthusiastically gave the vessel to his teacher.
Emmrich gave the item a quick look from all its sides, noticing some symbols that he wasn’t able to read. Elvish presumingly. The item wasn’t completely without magic either, so opening it without deciphering its writings first was a risk he wasn’t willing to take. A sound of boots creaking broke his concentration as Manfred was impatiently moving from one leg to another while waiting for Emmrich’s verdict.
‘Patience will be a hard skill for the skeleton to master.’
“Downstairs, I see.” the man repeated. “This urn is clearly old, Elven in nature. Could be part of some kind of ritual based on how it's sealed with magic.” Manfred held his breath, so to say, not making any sound and letting the professor go on.
“Opening it would be quite foolish.” With that Manfred let out a clearly disappointed hiss to which Emmrich couldn’t help but smile a little. “We could, however, ask Lady Bellara about this later. I’m positive she will have much more to say regarding the relic.”
His student brightened up, ready and eager to run out of room to ask their Elven expert for help but was stopped by the man’s stern voice. “No no! Later.” Emmrich said. “She must be in the middle of her own research as of now and we don’t want to interrupt her. I will ask for her time tomorrow at breakfast.”
This time his student accepted the reasoning rather easily and nodded in agreement. He was about to reach for the urn once again, but the man shook his head, gently. “I will return this to its rightful place at ‘downstairs’. Just to make sure it stays secure. And you Manfred, meanwhile, are to shelf all the books back to their rightful shelfs. Respecting alphabetical order and editions,” he added sternly. The tone didn’t faze the skeleton at all, as he clapped his bony hands and headed towards the stacks on the study table.
“Booksh! Booksh!” he echoed.
Emmrich observed his disciple’s doings for a moment, making sure that he stuck to the punishment, that clearly wasn’t punishment at all. He gave it a satisfying nod and headed out of his quarters with the item of interest in his hand. “Still cowards, as always,” an annoying voice of Hezenkoss followed him into a corridor.
“Rightfully cautious,” he corrected, letting her comment slide off him.
Once Emmrich was out of his quarters and into the open space of the common hall slash library, he was once again facing the dilemma of where this mentioned ‘downstairs’ was. He ascended the stairs where the eerie hum of the levitating bookshelves was the only sound he could pick up. It seemed like there wasn’t much of a company around this hour in the common areas. Everyone most likely catching up on their private time, defusing since the moment was permitting it. Which was perfect, sparing him the possible needs of explaining what he was snooping around for.
He approached the bookshelf behind the round table, the one that so graciously decided to stay put on the ground. It sadly had more than a few empty shelves so there was no clear spot missing its content. Even dust has been wiped clean here along possible prints in it. Whoever had the cleaning duty here recently was diligent and not slacking. Yet Emmrich could only let out a disappointed sigh.
What other options were there? His gaze drifted towards another set of stairs that went even lower. Towards the Eluvian room. Emmrich let the thought form in his mind, analyzing the probability of Manfred actually venturing out to the Crossroads by himself.
“No, there is no way he would have.” He reassured himself yet his voice lacked certainty. Where else would the skeleton have gotten the ancient elven relic. Emmrich gave the room one more look around before it clicked.
The round golden ornaments on the wall, lightened up by crystals, were more than meets the eye. He remembers it being mentioned that the library had two additional side rooms, yet to his own embarrassment he had never found time or reason to explore them. It seemed like now was a better time than ever to see what the rooms held. Surely it couldn't be worse than the alternative. Giving both walls a glance, Emmrich decided to approach the right side’s hidden door. Unconsciously augmenting it by it being right under his quarters. His side so to say. The door stayed closed, not reacting to his presence in any way. That didn’t discourage him, whatsoever. With a sharp gaze he eyed the ark over, looking for any possible press plates or symbols that could work as a lock. Without luck in that search, he switched his attention to pale yellow glowing crystals. He barely managed to reach one of them to touch and the door slid down, opening yet another well lit corridor. “Ah,” the professor exhaled, glad it was as simple as that. With the door now open, Emmrich quickly stepped into the passageway.
With a few steps into the corridor, the door slid close as swiftly as it had opened. Emmrich barely spared it a glance over his shoulder, as he went on straight to the other end. He was sure there won’t be any problem with getting back out later on.
The door at the other end was old fashioned, not enchanted in any way and operated by good old manual push. Heavier than Emmrich had anticipated, but it did give in fairly easily. Before he even managed to step into the room he was blinded by the rays of the fade’s imitated sun. They were pouring in mercilessly through the windows that were framing the whole opposite wall forcing the man to squint as he stepped into the shaded side, off the path of the closing door. After his eyes got a moment to adjust to the room’s brightness, Emmrich let himself acclimate with the new found room. The corner in which he stood had many crates and boxes, stacked up carelessly. Barely any of them were properly sealed, clearly being searched through. With that all the content, or mostly lack of it, was on display and easy to scan through. It was not even a minute later that the man spotted a box with identical urns to the one he was holding himself. The crate was separated into six sections by wooden dividers, filled with straw to guarantee safety of the fragile vessels. Of which one was missing. He placed his disciple’s booty back where it belonged. Carefully. With the collection now whole, his lips tugged into a smile, glad with his little mission complete.
With that out of the way Emmrich let himself turn towards the room again, ready to face the light that painted the space in warm tones. A grand spinet stood proudly in the middle of the room, keys exposed. That did spark a question of who could possibly be musically gifted in their group. His eyes drifted past the instrument, scanning other walls that were partly or mostly too occupied with old furniture, or items that haven’t found use anywhere else. As his eyes followed up, up the walls… He froze, the air in his lungs stuck.
Murals. Murals of what seemed like grand events of the painter. The man didn’t need to guess who’s work he was witnessing after facing the telltale symbol of the Inquisition.
‘And now this is reduced to a dusting storeroom’ he frowned to himself, eyes landing on a palette and brushes. Paint dried, never cleared as if abandoned mid-work. Their so-called host, despite being the source of their troubles, was also providing them help and thus Emmrich found it hard to outright discard him completely. A sentiment that barely anyone else shared with the necromancer. With hints of Fen’Harel all over the Lighthouse, it was a challenge to keep thinking of him as a God and not a man. This room reinforced his vision once more.
A silent yet clear flutter of paper carried to Emmrich’ ears, petrifying him for a second. He wasn’t alone in the room. How did it take him so long to notice? Was he noticed? Shaking off the feeling of unfounded guilt he straightened up before turning once again to face the piano occupied space.
“Hello?” he asked calmly, not giving voice to any awkwardness.
Silence didn’t offer any answer back.
Emmrich tried to look around, in case he had missed someone or something that could have made a sound.
Then the sound repeated itself. It came from across the room, hidden from sight by the instrument that stood right between him and the source. Emmrich quickly took a few steps around the spinet just to find his dearest companion reading a book while curled up on a chair that almost resembled a throne. The tenseness instantly melted away as he let out breath, a smile returning to his face. It was, however, surprising that she was yet to notice or acknowledge his presence.
“Rook?” he asked carefully, not wishing to startle her.
No reaction. Whatever was on those pages had her full attention to the point the rest of the world had seized to exist to her. Eyes ran through rows quickly, brows lightly knitted, finger pressed to her lips. Emmrich couldn’t help but adore her enthralment.
Leaving her with the book as company would have been the right thing to do, considering she had deliberately gone to the most forgotten corner of the Lighthouse to read in peace, but… He couldn’t shake off the curiosity. What was she reading?
The necromancer walked closer, his steps light, sparing the towers of cheese wheels a quick questionable glance before focusing back at Rook. With the positioning of the windows, he didn’t cast any shadows towards her that could visually alert her of his approach. So now he stood right next to her chair, still unnoticed.
With one last attempt, he cleared his throat, a sound that came out mixed with amused chuckle. As he had expected, it was futile. Without other options he reached out for her. “Dearest?” he leaned in and placed a hand on her shoulder.
“Waaah!” Rook shouted instantly, recoiling from sudden touch into a further corner on the throne, sending her book flying.
Emmrich instantly took a step back, hands half heartedly up in surrender. Face masterfully masking his amusement as remorse. He knew it would come to this but couldn’t blame her. There had been way too many times when he was in the same situation but in her shoes.
“Emmrich?” She breathed out heavily a few times before letting it even out. “Maker, you almost sent me to an early grave.” The comment made him frown.
“Let me assure you, that is the furthest of my intentions,” he said seriously.
Picking on his tone instantly, Rook’s shoulders slumped a little and she shook her head. “You know what I meant.”
“In my defence I did call out for you a few times just to be ignored,” he let his arms drop to be crossed over his chest. The statement was barely accusatory.
Rook met his eyes, stunned for a moment before letting out an awkward laugh. “I might have been slightly preoccupied,” she states the obvious. “Sorry ‘bout that.” The apology was meant for both of her ‘faults’. It was genuine.
Emmrich kept her gaze for a moment longer before dropping the sentiment and the stern facade. “I, too, apologise for startling your readings.” His attention switched to the book that had landed between them. “Let me…” the man kneeled down to pick it.
Before he got hold of the book Rook had stumbled out of the seat, rushing to be the one to pick it instead. “W–wait! I can myself—” she almost screamed. However, Emmrich was first to have reached it, her hand ending on top of his. The callous skin of her palm lingered just for a second, before she snatched it back to hold it against her chest, visibly… flustered? Gaze was averted as if in shame.
Emmrich couldn’t help but let his brows rise in bewilderment as he stood up. She followed his suit, but was yet to shake off the blush. Rook was far from innocent, that had come clear from her stories and… actions that they shared. She had never shied away from his touch nor had problems in approaching him once they made their intentions toward one another clear. So this type of reaction was very new for him.
The attention switched to the book in his hands; clearly old and well read. The back of it was bent-broken and the cover worn to the point that the possible title and author were long gone and unreadable. Emmrich turned it around, trying to see any telltale signs of its content.
“Is this book of the Lighthouse?” he asked. Rook faced him quickly before looking away again, shaking her head. “No… It’s from a personal…” she went on, but before she could even finish her sentence, he had opened the book on a random spread.
To. her. indescribable. horror.
It took a few overly long stretched seconds for Emmrich to register what he had skimmed through. As his luck, or Rook’s unluck would have it, he was taking in a very bold and detailed description of sensual interaction of two, hopefully, fictional characters. At its very peak with no details disclosed.
A gasp followed with horrified ‘No’ was the only warning of a pouncing leader Emmrich got. But years of being a professor had his reflexes sharp so the arm with the book in had shot up and back. High out of the Rook’s reach while his other hand held her back at her shoulder.
“Don’t you dare! Give it back!” she demanded. This time even the points of her ears were covered in blush. An adoring sight for the necromancer that he couldn’t fight his lips from tugging into an amused smile. But far from judgemental. Somehow such an unexpected turn was not so surprising for him.
This didn’t go unnoticed for Rook’s desperate gaze turned into a sulking stare. Hands went from reaching up over him to crossing under her chest. “That is my personal read,” Rook stated. Sternly.
“It clearly is,” Emmrich confirmed with a nod. “And it seems like it's not your first journey across its pages?” he inquired, challenging her stare. She however did not avert her eyes this time, holding it unshaken.
“Exactly. I do enjoy myself some romantic fiction and won’t deny having a favorite one. Spent my own honestly earned coin for that one too before you question.”
Emmrich squinted at that, tilting his head a tad, not appreciating such an assumption. Rook continued before he could.
“And I’m oh so sorry to disappoint you for delving into a writings that are at the opposite side of your top shelf educational topics like ‘mimicking fusions’, ‘volatilely enkindled runes’ and ‘lost forms of spirit communication’.” Rook’s voice didn’t shy away from the mockery while parodying him.
“‘Mimetic transfusion’, ‘votively enkindled runes’ and ‘lost forms of spirit communion’, Rook.” Emmrich couldn’t fight the urge to correct her.
Rook’s brow shot up, gaze even less so impressed. “Bless you,” she deadpanned. This stung him a little, as he had just proved her statement right, even if unintentionally. That deflated his demeanor a tad, as he brought the book back down from the mocking highs.
“Not quite sure what made you assume I wouldn’t appreciate romantic literature.”
Rook’s waiting hands dropped from her middle, as they found a new place at her sides, weight leaning to her right. “Oh I don’t know. Got a picture that fantasy in all its forms was not your cup of tea when even Harding’s gruesome novels were too much for you due to incorrect anatomical descriptions,” she rolled her eyes.
Emmrich couldn’t help but sigh, his banters with Lace catching up on him. Or how he and Taash had butted heads about not understanding each other’s passions. It would be hypocritical of him to try and deny his own words but… Maybe he could ease it out a notch. As this was not a faculty or defence of a thesis in Nevarran academy. They all came from completely different backgrounds and it was foolish of him to view them only through his own narrow standards.
His eyes landed down on the book in his hands, gripping it more tightly. It was something important to his dearest. Yet he had behaved in a way that gave an air of judgement and arrogance towards other’s preferences that she now assumed Emmrich saw her as less because of that. To the point that she would try to hide her favorite book from him instead of sharing it.
A wave of shame and sadness washed over him.
“I… I can see what you mean.” His lips tightened in a line and he tried to plan out a proper approach. “I might have been stubborn and blind to other ways but my own,” the necromancer admitted. He dared himself to look back to Rook just to see her being baffled by his admission, clearly not expecting one. Emmrich gave her a pathetic attempt at a smile.
“Emmrich, I didn’t mean to…” Rook was ready to diffuse the moment as she usually did but he just shook his head gently.
“It’s quite alright. It’s good to be knocked down a step or two, I’m sophisticated enough to take it. I wouldn’t want our crew to see me as presumptuous, alas it might be too late. But,” he continued his voice, picking up a higher, more positive note, “I believe it’s never too late to fix your ways.”
Rook's dumbfounded stare didn’t last long as she couldn’t help but crack into a chuckle. “Humble much?”
“I surely strive to be.” Emmrich admits, this time more aware and playing off sarcastic comments. “Look, I’m sorry for being harder to tackle at times. I never meant to shame your choices. There are as many preferences as there are individuals and it was lapse in my judgement to bring it all down to my own. Quite a rookie mistake.”
Rook’s features softened before gaining a sharp, mischievous gaze as she took a step towards him. Barely any space left between them. Her hand went to his forearm, giving him a gentle squeeze. Reassuring him that it was quite alright. “Don’t shame yourself too much, handsome. You are one of my choices too after all,” she cooed at him. Her eyes dropped to his lips just for a quick second before being back at his. A suggestive gesture. An invitation.
“Oh you…” Emmrich breathed not being able to deny her praise and plea. A pure bliss bloomed in his chest as he leaned down to meet her expecting lips. A kiss sweet and heartfelt. He almost expected for the kiss to deepen before feeling a tug on her possession. Sneaky little thing, he thought and straightened back up, breaking the kiss. And no, he still didn’t let go of the book. “Almost,” Rook purred like a satisfied cat. “May I have it back, please?”
Her request was hard to fight. And even though it would have been the right thing to do, Emmrich couldn’t do it just yet. He gave her a quick follow up peck to the lips, surprising her enough that her hold on the books eased and he could take a step back. Rook’s ways had been rubbing on him so he was proud to be able to put them to good use.
“Certainly. Though I would love you to indulge me with one request first,” necromancer said, his words careful. A smile on Rook’s lips remained unchanged as she brought her chin up a little, giving him a hooded look.
“Do I have a choice?” she joked, then followed by a small nod. “Shoot”.
Emmrich eyed the book, biting his lip before he had enough courage to air his wish. “Would you please show me what part you were reading?”
The coy facade vanished quicker than Emmrich would have loved it to as Rook asked quite dumbfounded.
“The what?”
The man cleared his throat, fighting not to give up on the topic and instead pushed forward. “The chapter that got you so fascinated. I truly wish to know what had you so enchanted and captivated. What made you hold onto your breath and bite on your forefinger as you tuned the page even though it is an old read.”
Rook looked away, hand going up to her neck as in an attempt to smooth away the blush that was once again creeping up her skin. Her hesitation was obvious. Once again embarrassed. A groan escaped her. “Do I have to?”
Emmrich smiled sadly at her, not too surprised by her disdain. So he shook his head and finally offered her book back. “You don’t, dearest. Of course not. I would never force you to.” But throws in his last stitch attempt. “Still, I would be delighted to learn of your loves and favorites. Dislikes and turn-offs alike. I wish for you to know that you don’t have to feel conflicted about pouring yourself out to me. Maker knows you have done so much of that to me. So… As subjective as I might have presented myself, I will not ever belittle you or your thoughts. Of that I promise you.”
A silence stretched out between them and was becoming awkward to the point of casting a shadow of worry on Emmrich’s resolve. Had he overstepped? Pushed a little too hard? Just as he was to give up and ask to pay it no mind, Rook shot him a glance from under a brow and quietly asked.
“Even if it’s dumb and pointless?”
“Even if it is written in poor grammar!” He reassured her.
Rook held his gaze, trying to find something, any sign that would revoke all what he just had said. Strain in his expression or twitch in his lips. Anything! But found none as he was honest with his words.
“Page 98,” she sighed.
Emmrich’s face melted into an adoring smile and he gave her a nod of thank you. Even if it seemed like a little meaningless thing, it meant a lot to him. So without further ado, he again opened the book but this time searched for the addressed page. As he carefully shuffled through the pages, he unconsciously wagered to get the same type of a scene as he had accidentally stumbled on the first time. ‘Could be possibly taken in as reference for the future,’ he mentally noted to himself with a smirk.
‘92, 94, 96…’
The man reached the right spread of pages and began to read. It was the beginning of a chapter and with every row did his assumption get proven further from the truth. A heartfelt and raw moment between two lovers meeting secretly, only witnessed by lights of the night sky. Based on what Emmrich caught from their conversation they had a romantic history, but the other one was questioning if there was a future for them. The difference in statuses and duty.
‘It was a mistake to come here tonight. This only makes the inevitable so much worse.’
‘Don’t call this… us a mistake! I am leaving so there is a chance for us after this whole mess is over.’
‘Arranged marriage with the other side is more than just “a mess”! Tensions are sky high as they are and you not wanting to “tarnish the family’s honor” put you into a position where you have “no other choice”... once again.’
The dialogue suggested that it was not their first argument on this topic. Emmrich frowned and turned a page.
‘Please. It’s temporary as I have explained it many times…’
‘Yes, you have, and I understand! But who will understand me if not you? For whom my worries and my wants will be a priority? Why don’t you see I don’t want you to go out of fear that you will return feet first…’
‘My love,’ they tried to ease the other’s worries only to end up with a handful of sobbing lover against their chest.
‘If it comes to worst… I won’t be able to go on. I don’t want to know life without you.’
‘I promise, you will not find that out.’
The lovers melted into a desperate embrace. The touches, trying to memorise everything of one another before the night would fall short and it would be time for them to go their separate ways.
It didn’t take Emmrich long to finish the whole episode. His breathing was slow but deep, as if any of the intakes weren’t enough to fill his lungs properly. A struggle to compose himself. He felt slightly lost by what this all meant. What did it say about Rook, if the scene of lovers parting ways on this bittersweet note was her favorite.
He looked up from the book, eyes instantly finding Rook. She had moved towards the window, now looking out into the bright sky like space of the fade, her back turned to him. Hands hugging herself. She hadn’t made any comments or sounds, letting him read uninterrupted. When the soft thumb of book closing echoed through the loud silence of the room, she turned her head exposing her profile to him. “Cheesy, wasn’t it?” She asked with a forced highnote at the end.
Emmrich stayed silent.
Rook let out a chuckle, turning back to face the windows. “Don’t get me wrong, the whole book is great. It is the author’s one of the first published books. Second one I think. They have gone to write series after but have nailed the smutty parts ever since the beginning. Like the one with a semi-public sex scene in the alley next to the busy street when they almost got caught by—”
“Rook.” Emmrich interrupted her rumble, his voice gentle. It sounded to him like an attempt to hide behind a raunchy and bold facade. Trying to change the topic as if regretting revealing the true pages.
She continued, now less enthusiastically. “What I meant to say… A good fuck is easier to land compared to such lifelong devotion. That is my comfort novel that I have reread countless times yet every time I open it again, it's like for the first time. Even when I know the ending.” She turned around to face him, a sad smile on her face “A happy ending.”
Emmrich held her gaze and let her continue.
“All the arguments, the struggles, the pain. They all are easier to tackle and experience when you know it all will be figured out. I like that part ‘cause it is when all is going to shit. It is the storm that you felt was coming because everything before that was way too good to be true. It gives me freedom to experience this crumble and heartache knowing that there is a safety net written to catch me.”
That sent a wave of goosebumps down the necromancer’s skin. The fact that Rook had been worried about the team, their mission and its progress was obvious. But for it to be to this extent? She had held herself fairly strong, being the leader that they needed. Lending everyone her time, ear and shoulder when necessary. Yet, in the whole Lighthouse the only one to whom she felt brave enough to pour out her own fears was this nameless novel?
Emmrich’s brows furrowed as eyes filled with worry. “So you get reassurance from it and try to mirror it to our current dilemma?”
Rook shrugs. “Pretty much.”
The necromancer couldn’t help but let his shoulders fall at her admission. Heart bleeding for her fears and burden that they all knew she was shouldering yet failed to see how they were eating on her. She had always presented herself with such an air of nonchalant ease that he had taken it as given. But it was just a well crafted mask that Rook has learned to pull on to face whatever cards fate decided to deal her. And this round was looking especially dire. A sudden realization struck the man. The just read chapter had also born an unexpected concern in Emmrich in regards to them. Of ‘us’. Blight, gods, battles had people around them step into the Veil with frightening rates. So was she seeing any bright future? Was Rook redying herself for the worst possible outcome as inevitable? The book was a form of mental preparation for her so was this their calm before the storm? That from here it would be a downfall into the dark without knowing if they manage to break the fall before hitting the rock bottom.
And his aspirations to ascend to Lichdom…
Emmrich bit on his own teeth, not ready to delve into possible ripples that might had brought. This moment wasn’t about him. This was about her and him trying to help her ease her mind. Even if coming second to the un-named novel. The man finally took a step towards his companion, offering the book back to the rightful owner. Rook gave him a sympathetic look before accepting it back, bridging it to her chest. Hugging it dearly like a kid's favorite plush. Pure and sincere. That brought a smile to Emmrich’s lips, washing away the darker thoughts. He let his hand find her cheek, giving it a gentle caress. Rook nuzzled into it, so naturally as by an instinct before looking again up at him. “Darling. Know that I’m here whenever you feel heavy at heart or want to pour your thoughts and worries out. It would be an honor to be of any help.”
“I know,” Rook breathed out softly.
“And worry not of it being a burden! I have had plenty of pedagogical years behind me to learn to navigate even the most trivial of worries that all mattered none the less,” he added, trying to lighten the tone. Even if they both knew it was in vain.
Rook, mostly out of pity, let out a small chuckle. She then took a step closer and let her head press against his chest. Emmrich welcomed her by bringing her into a tight embrace. His head dropped on top of hers, placing a kiss into her hair. They stood like that for a few long stretch moments, as the heartbeats echoed loudly as in sync. Basking in each other’s warmth and presence.
“I won’t promise you the happy ending like in the book,” Emmrich’ broke the silence, “as we are not given the fortune to know for sure and I refuse to be the reason for a broken promise.” Rook didn’t say anything, only hid her face against the man's chest.
“I will, however, promise you that I will do whatever it is in my power to push through for us to meet on the other side of this all. How and how successfully, that is for us to find out.” The necromancer whispered into her hair. And much as it was a promise for himself as was for her. He wanted to see this through and welcome the new dawn with Rook by his side.
Despite his reassurance the air has become poignant as the end of the Rook’s favorite chapter. Emmrich, feeling guilty yet again, refused for their day to end on such a note.
“How about during the next full moon, we visit the Memorial Gardens? Have wine and I will share my favorite romance poems with you. To make this fair, so to say.”
His dearest partner leaned back enough to be able to look up to the necromancer. She gave it a moment of exaggerated thinking before asking with a cheeky smirk and shine in her eyes.
“Will they make me yawn or yearn?”
Emmrich let out a surprised laugh, as she had struck him once again. He couldn’t do much as to shake his head, pleased that Rook was now in a higher spirit than a moment before.
“Ah-a, no spoilers, my love. You will have to wait and hear,” he teased and leaned down towards her lips once again. “Seems like I have no choice then,” she answered with fake disappointment and welcomed the kiss.
The bliss of that sweet moment was not meant to last as it won't be long before the sky turns blood red in a God forced eclipse.
