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It started innocently enough. Rook could carve through darkspawn and demons with fatal accuracy but then trip while standing still, which Neve found endlessly endearing. Then there was a little harmless flirtation between them, nothing Neve couldn’t handle. Things took a turn during their wisp hunt. Neve’s unimpeachable judgement almost lapsed, almost.
But then Rook was there skipping stones with her in the rain, showing up for Dock Town like no one ever had before. And Neve could do nothing else but run into her arms and kiss her. Her carefully crafted and meticulously maintained walls were starting to crumble at Rook’s feet, and it terrified her.
Neve told herself she wasn’t falling. She promised herself she could keep Rook at arm’s length. It was for the best. If one of them didn’t make it out the other side of this job, it would only lead to heartbreak of a magnitude Neve didn’t think either of them could ever recover from. And Rook, sweet Trouble, was so infuriatingly respectful.
There was nothing tame, though, about the way Rook acted behind closed doors. Late at night, when everyone else was either asleep or occupied with their own matters, Neve would slip into Rook’s room and push her down onto that green couch. Or sometimes Rook would come into Neve’s office and pin her against her desk, standing between her legs.
Neve wasn’t one for flowery words or grand gestures, but the way they kissed each other, touched each other felt like the purest form of adoration Neve had ever experienced. There was something addictive about Rook’s lips, her hands on Neve’s hips, the way she’d sink to her knees with a dangerously charming grin. There was more than electricity between them. Rook seemed to have drained the ice from her veins and replaced it with magma. And yet, Neve couldn’t bring herself to say those three little words that seemed to swim in Rook’s deep eyes every time they looked at each other.
At the Crows’ invitation, the team was having drinks downstairs at the Diamond. The atmosphere was jovial in the back by the bar. Viago had successfully completed a contract, and the team had taken a bite out of the Antaam earlier that day. There was still the small matter of ancient elven gods running amuck, but it had been a good day on balance. Elegant waitresses kept the drinks flowing as scantily clad performers sung and danced on a raised stage to one side. The Crows said beautiful women help detract attention from their covert dealings, which Neve didn’t doubt. The din of the casino floated in and out over the music.
Rook had come in a bit later than everyone else, having debriefed with Teia upstairs after the day’s events. There hadn't been a seat next to Neve so she took a seat a few places away next to Lucanis and the other Crows, which Neve told herself made no difference. She was a big girl and got to see Rook all the time. Why would they need to sit next to each other having drinks with friends? Still, Neve let her gaze sweep over their leader every once in a while.
“And the artist totally got the fangscorcher wrong. Their horns are mostly level with their head and then point out and back. Every idiot knows that. Solas’ library is vashedan,” Taash was saying as Neve tuned back into the conversation going on around her.
“Taash, if I may,” said Emmrich, “Just because one book had an inaccurate detail doesn’t say much for the accuracy of an entire library with thousands of books.”
“I draw a pretty hard line at dragons,” they replied. Neve smirked at that. Truer statements were rarely made.
“It’s impressive how much you know about them,” said Harding, her face flushed. Neve could tell it wasn’t from the alcohol. Taash shrugged.
“It’s my job,” they said nonchalantly, “I could teach you some stuff if you want.” Harding lit up at the prospect of spending more time with Taash.
“I’d love that,” she giggled. Taash gave her a crooked smile.
“Cool,” they said.
“Are there any Fereldan dragons?” Harding asked. Taash sat up a little straighter now that the conversation had well and truly turned to their primary interest.
“The Frostback,” said Taash, “She’s a real beaut too.” Neve’s attention flicked to the conversation happening on her other side as she took a sip of her drink. She wasn’t disinterested in dragons. It was more so that Rook was a part of the other conversation, not that Neve would ever admit that.
“Illario,” Viago said, his voice teasing, “What ever happened to that girl?” Illario tipped his head back as if recalling sweet memories.
“Ahh, the silk vendor contract,” he said dreamily, “The fabric didn’t hold a candle to her hair, her skin, her sweet lips.” Lucanis chuckled.
“She had you wrapped around her little finger,” said Lucanis, “I’m still surprised her last name didn’t end up becoming Dellamorte.” Illario made a flippant but sweeping gesture.
“Alas, it wasn’t meant to be,” he said, “She was the daughter of a wealthy merchant, and her hand was already promised to another. But the love affair we shared will remain in my memory until my dying breath.” Lucanis laughed.
“You’ve always been an incurable romantic,” he said. Illario gave a roguish shrug.
“What can I say?” he replied wistfully. Neve’s eyes briefly met Rook’s. There was a smile on Rook’s face, and she shook her head a little at the familial teasing going on around them. From that smallest of interactions, Neve could already feel a spark catching between them. Neve smirked in an attempt to cover her light blush, which was also not due to the drinks. Although Neve would go to her grave swearing it was. “Don’t tell me you’ve never been tempted to sleep with someone on a job, cousin.”
“Unlike you, Illario, I am a professional,” said Lucanis, sipping his drink. Teia laughed at that.
“Unless it involves Antonio Valisti,” she teased. Lucanis looked down at his cup.
“Alright, that was one time,” he said. Their side of the table erupted in laughter. Neve smiled. She was glad they could still have fun given all that was going on. It made her feel just a little more normal.
Neve’s smile dropped when she spotted a young Crow leaning a little too close to Rook as she laughed. Neve had never met the girl, but she’d heard the others call her Elena. Neve quirked an eyebrow. Perhaps it had just been a fluke.
“What about you, Rook?” asked Elena playfully, “Ever fallen in love on the job?” Elena was in skin tight leathers with a plunging neckline. She leaned forward and put her hand on Rook’s arm as she spoke. Now Neve couldn’t argue with a good plunging neckline, but Elena’s behavior had certainly not been a fluke. Rook got a mischievous smile on her face. Neve waited.
“Well there is this sword I picked up a few days ago,” Rook easily deflected, “Things are getting pretty serious.” Lucanis barked out a laugh.
“The relationship between a person and their weapons is very important, so I’ll agree with you there, Rook,” he said. Neve relaxed a little. Still, her gaze remained firmly locked on the young Crow who was laughing a little too hard at Rook’s jest.
“So no one’s caught your eye, I take it?” Elena pushed, running a finger up Rook’s forearm. Neve fought the urge to roll her eyes. How overt could you get? Be a little original with it at the very least. Neve swore her vision went a little green at the edges. Her chest tightened and her pulse quickened as Elena’s gaze raked over Rook’s toned arms. Neve stood abruptly.
“Rook, looks like the table could use another round,” she said, her voice low and even, “Care to join me?”
“Yep! My glass is empty,” Rook said, springing out of her seat. Neve slid between the chairs and headed for the bar, sparring a glance back to ensure Rook was following. Lucanis caught Neve’s eye and gave her a knowing grin. Neve glared at him. Rook jogged to catch up with Neve’s swift pace. The bar was crowded with patrons. But Neve couldn’t find it within herself to mind when Rook put one hand on Neve’s back and held the other out to create a clear path for her.
“Another round on the Dellamorte tab, please,” Neve said to the barkeep.
“Right away,” they responded. Neve looked at Rook.
“Elena seems friendly,” Neve said. The tips of Rook’s ears turned red.
“Yes, very…forward,” Rook said, “Sorry about that.” Neve softened.
“You weren’t the one practically throwing yourself into her lap,” she said. Neve didn’t blame Rook. Nor did she fault Elena, not really. No one was more familiar with Rook’s charms than her. But something about a girl so openly flirting with Rook right in front of Neve had a particularly potent brand of jealousy spilling into her veins. It wasn’t pretty or nice. It wasn’t even deserved given her aversion to talking about the future. But it ran hot and fast. Rook got a curious look in her eye and moved closer to Neve.
“She’ll never be you, you know,” Rook said into Neve’s ear, her voice low and raspy. Neve shivered. “She can’t make me feel like you do, a young, inexperienced girl like that. She can’t touch me like you do.” Neve let out a shaky breath as Rook’s words stoked the fire into an inferno. The things Neve was going to do to this woman when they got home.
“Trouble,” she warned. They were still in public after all, and it was generally frowned upon to push your deliciously muscular teammate up against the bar and kiss her senseless in the middle of your ally’s casino. Rook smirked.
“I mean, just the other day in your office alone. I swept all your notes off the desk and laid you down…” Rook continued. Neve breathed in sharply before being violently ripped from their little bubble by another voice.
“Rook, I’m feeling a little…reckless tonight,” Elena said, leaning into Rook as if the crowd was forcing her too. It wasn’t. “Is it too late to make mine a double?”
“Yep,” Neve answered decisively as the bartender slid a tray of drinks for their table towards them. Neve flipped a few coins onto the bartop as a tip as Rook took the tray. Neve knew she would. Rook was nothing if not a gentlewoman. Elena followed them back to the table, clearly eyeing Rook’s arms again. Rook set the tray on the table to a chorus of thanks thrown their way. Neve quickly pressed herself between Rook and Elena, putting an arm around Rook’s broad shoulders and leaning over the table.
“Rook was saying she’s a bit tired, and I’ve got case notes calling my name. We’re going to head back,” Neve said. The group all smiled and bid them farewell with a tip of their glasses, all except a now disappointed little fledgling. Neve smirked to herself as she led Rook towards the exit and felt Rook’s hand land on the small of her back.
“Does that answer your question more clearly?” Lucanis asked Elena, an amused smile on his face. He only hoped his dear friend Neve would get her head out of her behind and tell Rook she was deeply, madly, irreversibly in love with her. Mierda, honestly.
To Neve’s delight, Rook seemed just as eager as she was to get back to the Lighthouse. Rook kept a hand firmly around Neve as she maintained a quick clip back upstairs and towards the eluvian. If the mood had been lighter, Neve would have chuckled and teased her for it. But that lava had begun to seep into her limbs. It was as if everything inside her body was being burned away, leaving only molten desire.
Rooks hands stayed on Neve as they stepped through the glass and rode the Caretaker’s ferry. Rook kept her close, as if Neve would slip through her fingers otherwise. Neve certainly wasn’t complaining. She’d developed this desperate need to know Rook was with her. Maybe it was the intangible aspects of their job that made Neve crave Rook’s grounding touch. Or maybe it was just ecstasy of the devotion that radiated off Rook in waves. It was intoxicating and so very dangerous. Neve always did have a proclivity for getting into trouble.
The moment they stepped through the eluvian into the Lighthouse, Rook’s lips were on her. A couple quick and desperate kisses to Neve’s rosy lips followed by pecks leading down to the elegant column of her neck. Neve gasped as Rook sucked just where Neve’s jaw met her neck. She wrapped her arms around Rook’s shoulders to keep her close.
“Trouble,” Neve breathed out, "tell me again." Rook pulled back to look Neve in the eyes, gazes burning into each other and chests heaving. Rook leaned in so that her lips just brushed Neve's.
"She'll never be you," Rook said. Neve smirked, satisfaction blooming throughout her entire being.
“Upstairs.” Rook didn’t need to be told twice. As she kissed her way lower on Neve’s neck, she bent down and swept Neve into her arms. One arm under Neve’s knees and the other around her middle, Rook began walking up towards her room. Thank the Maker the doors opened on their own in the Lighthouse.
As Rook set Neve down in her room, took a hold of Neve’s waist, and began to pull her in for another kiss, Neve decided it was about time she was in charge again. She stopped Rook’s kiss with a pointed look. Rook pouted but obeyed. Neve smiled.
“Good girl,” she purred. Rook seemed to melt under the heat of Neve’s attention. “Down.” Neve’s smile turned decidedly less sweet as Rook nearly tripped over her own feet to lie down on the chaise. Neve sent a burst of frost at the door to seal it tight as she sauntered towards Rook. She began slowly, teasingly unbuttoning her shirt as she straddled Rook’s hips. Their fearless leader was in for a long night. Checkmate.