veilward | THIS THE EMMROOK VARIETY HOUR NOW

Oh. He could stand to hear that note in Hugh's voice a lot more. There was a sweetness to it, a gentle desire, that went straight to his heart.

"Yes. Like a date. Though I do hope Manfred will return and join us; he loves the flowers and I'd like you to meet him." His assistant generally knew where he was, once in the Necropolis. It was exceedingly useful. Emmrich could wish the reverse were true, but at the same time Manfred spent most of his time with Emmrich when they were both here. Which was most of the time in general.

Emmrich finished his tea and stood. "Let's, dearest." The tray could stay there as a skeleton would come to retrieve it. He moved over to the doorway and pulled on his boots before being ready to lead the way to the elevator, down, and through (hopefully) the Path of Sighs.

"I don't think it's moved this week, so it should be easy to get to." A little bit of mischief was in his expression with that. He wanted Hugh to ask. One of the things he loved about the Necropolis was how it didn't follow many of what would be considered natural laws.

"Manfred?" Hugh asked, half-forgetting with his thoughts already filled to the brim with holding hands with Emmrich through winding paths lined with flowers all morning. A light went up behind his eyes as he suddenly remembered. "Oh! Your spirit...skeleton? Spirit skeleton? Can't say I haven't been curious."

All the skeletons Hugh had seen thus far had been incurious and single-minded, driven by a task imbued into a wisp. At least, that's what he gathered from Emmrich. He was interested in seeing what a true spirit of Curiosity was like, and this Manfred sounded a great deal more animated.

—Even if it did mean having a third wheel on their first date.

Hugh followed suit after running back into the bedroom to dress and find his own boots. Maybe inhaling another piece of toast on the way out. He hung back to follow Emmrich — this was the Necropolis and the last place short of the Deep Roads he wanted to get lost.

"You've mentioned that before..." Hugh said with a little hint of suspicion, like he was bracing for the punchline of a joke. "Places moving. I thought you were taking the piss the first time, but now I'm not so sure. What do you mean?"

He lead the way to the elevator, smiling warmly.

"The Grand Necropolis shifts around from time to time. It almost never shifts a room that a living person is in, so it's not something to worry about in general. It's specifically not something to worry about while I'm with you as I can identify every room I've seen at a glance and can find the way back without an issue."

Once in, he paused for a second to think and then hit the down button. The Memorial Gardens were currently down from the senior staff residences.

"That's one of the reasons I'm down in the depths so often. I look to see what's moved around, and if anything is currently impassible, occupied by something new, or missing. Currently there's a necrotic fog hanging in the Crying Gorge, so it will not be on any tours."

The elevator dinged, the doors opened, and Emmrich held up a hand as he stepped out first before nodding and waving Hugh out. There was a large, long hall with multiple alcoves ahead of them. He shifted to holding that hand out in case Hugh would take it. "Excellent. It will be a straight shot through this, the large door at the end. And as the candles are all still lit, nothing will be stirring and bothering us that needs to be pacified."

A thought struck him, a comment from earlier. "And yes, Manfred is my assistant. He's a Curiosity wisp who is growing, a rare and precious process, and he uses a skeleton to interact with the living world."

"Oh," Hugh said, because that was about all he could manage at first. "Almost never is...good."

Being in a small box, steadily moving through the insurmountable deep levels of the Necropolis miles beneath the earth, is an excellent way to absorb impossible information. That wasn't Hugh being facetious to himself—the steady movement and white noise did make it easier. Even if everything Emmrich just said made his head spin.

—Also, were they going down?

"I guess this is the sort of place where names like 'necrotic fog' and 'Crying Gorge' are to be expected over, I don't know, the Giggling Falls." Hugh snorted at his own just before giving Emmrich a rather chastened look and mumbling that both had their charms.

To change the subject, or at least not look like such an ass, Hugh held out a bended arm instead of taking Emmrich's proffered hand. A reminder of the first night they met, which now felt more like weeks and weeks ago instead of the scant few days it really had been.

"Did he pick the skeleton?" Hugh asked, because it was the first question that popped into his mind.

"I'd be quite concerned if we found a Giggling Falls," Emmrich said, playing along. "Giggling tends to be a sound you don't want to hear in the darkness; crying is far more understandable and expected."

The arm offered was charming. Emmrich gave Hugh a very soft smile as he took his love's arm and drew close before helping push open the double doors to reveal the grandeur that was the Memorial Gardens.

"Here we are," he said. Emmrich tilted his head to indicate they'd start by heading to the right. "And yes, he helped choose the parts from a selection. One part was donated by an old friend, other parts were general donations, and then a few other bones were from a charnal pit. Once they were all to his liking, I threaded them together with bone needle and wire, while using necromancy to make sure his joints would move fluidly."

"As you can see," he said, gesturing to one of the simple groundskeepers, "they move well, despite not having cartilage to protect their joints. Each reconstruction is a labor of love, even the ones that are temporary homes for wisps to take and leave."

It was incredibly nice to share about the job he loved. A few wisps swooped in and twirled around them. Emmrich's eyes sparkled. "Hello there!" He was not about to tell Hugh the significance of their visitors, not yet. "Fragments of curiosity itself, bringing sparks of wonder and joy to the entire space. Their presence is one of my favorite parts of the Grand Necropolis, though the flowers down here are also dear to my heart."

"That's a good point, actually." Hugh had to concede things there and pretend as though now he wouldn't be on high alert for any laughter in the dark. Maker, he was going to have nightmares later, but that was really his own fault.

Hugh takes his other hand and lays it over Emmrich's hand, now firmly wrapped around his arm, as they continue further on. At first, Hugh thought it might bother him that Emmrich was taller one. When really, he quite liked the couple of inches between them, there was room to lean into his lover, and he now understood what 'gazing up' at another person felt like. He could get used to this.

"Sounds like it'd be difficult to keep everything proportionate with all th uhm, material donated from different sources," Hugh more thought aloud than anything before he shrugged as he followed up with, "but that's a labor of love for you."

Before Hugh knew it, they had passed the threshold into the gardens, and he stopped short a few steps inside. The look on his face as he tilted his head back and took in everything around and above him was nothing short of pure awe.

"Oh wow..." Spirit and fade lights danced like fireflies around them, and he barely registers the wisps dancing around him and Emmrich. "There's so much growing down here, so much life, I would never have imagined. The entire time we were above ground in the city, this was below my feet the entire time—takes the breath away. It's beautiful."

He beamed down at Hugh, trying to memorize every aspect of this sublime moment. Hugh radiated delight and Emmrich wished to bask in that joy.

"It's my favorite place in the world," Emmrich said quietly. "The flowers, some of which are exceptionally rare, the spirits, the tableaus, the rituals, it's a lovely, peaceful whole." And peaceful it was, quiet save for the chittering of some wisps and skeletons and the occasional crackle of fire.

Now he had a decision to make. He could keep guiding them straight, to the bench in the middle of flowers near one of the bells, where they could sit and relax. Or he could turn left. Left, and to his parents' graves. There was no doubt Hugh could feel or hear or smell or otherwise detect the sudden nerves Emmrich was feeling, which made this almost funny.

Hugh had trusted him with his past. Emmrich lead him left. "There's a couple of people I'd like you to meet, metaphorically speaking." He paused them on the grass in front of the two graves, close enough that the names were clearly visible. "I haven't whispered them. I haven't wanted to intrude upon their peace. But they're here."

"I've never seen most of these flowers," Hugh remarked with a note of awe as they walked through winding paths of graves and mausoleums draped in sweeping vines bursting with colors of flowers in full bloom.

He admittedly would have never associated a resting place for the departed to be anything more than a dreary, somber affair. Even after everything Emmrich had said, some things need to be seen to be believed, and now Hugh had been proven wrong. There was a lightness in the air even this far below the earth, and not just because of the fragrance of flowers and woodsmoke that permeated throughout. The Memorial Gardens weren't just a place to mourn, but to enjoy.

"It's like remembering beauty persists after death," Hugh said, almost under his breath. This was the first time he started to frame mortality as something other than a grim inevitability.

"There is?" Hugh asked as they veered left. He craned his neck and looked around like a birdhound trying to catch a scent, but there was no one he could detect. Not Emmrich's fault for not knowing Hugh was unfamiliar with the word 'metaphorically,' but he clued into the context soon after when Emmrich mentioned whispering.

Moreso when they stopped at the edge of a path to a small clearing where two headstones sat side by side. Hugh reflexively gave Emmrich's hand a little squeeze when the older man's meaning became clear and he read the inscriptions aloud.

"In memory of Elannora and Rupert Volkarin. They walk eternity hand in hand."

A pause persisted until Hugh asked,

"I- should we have brought flowers?"

He held his breath unconsciously as he waited for Hugh's reaction. This wasn't the first time he'd brought someone to his parents' graves, but the entire intensity of this relationship was so different from all of his others. Hugh's question drew a smile back to his face and eased his stress remarkably.

"They have all the flowers they could want here," he said, gently and warmly. "There's more here than we had in our neighborhood, even."

He brushed a leaf off of his father's headstone; both showed a little age but had clearly been cared for.

"Since I had them moved here it's become one of my favorite places to read. My students also know to only bother me here if it's serious, as I normally have office hours."

He looked down at the graves and was quiet for a few moments. What would they think of Hugh? He had no idea. He didn't know what they'd think of most things, as he'd lost them so young.

"Would you care to sit here for a time or continue seeing more?"

"A fair point," Hugh returned with a warm chuckle.

The conscious pause in breathing alerted Hugh to the fact that Emmrich was far more nervous in this situation than he was. It was funny and hard to describe how distress had a smell and rhythm only he could pick up on. He held Emmrich's hand a little tighter before relaxing when he could hear his breath normally again.

Distantly, Hugh thought he should find this strange. Being Ferelden and an Andrastian who saw both a spiritual and practical reason to cremate loved ones, but in all honesty, he didn't. If anything...

"I guess I never considered how nice it must be to have a place to visit someone after they're gone instead of lighting a candle in a chapel now and again."

Hugh's smile faltered until he looked back at Emmrich, his expression soft and equal parts touched to even be brought here. Had this been his plan all morning? Either way, Hugh wanted to take in the moment rather than continue on.

"We could sit a while. Tell me about them."

That the Nevarran-ness of it all didn't disturb Hugh was a blessing. They came from two very different cultures.

"I find greater comfort in this than I would a candle," Emmrich confirmed. He guided them to a spot to the side of the graves, grassy and soft.

"And... ah. I don't know a great deal, truth be told." Emmrich looked down at his hands. "They were kind people, from what I recall. My father was a butcher, and my mother a cook. I remember sunlight as I sat in the kitchen with them and they talked. It's a warm memory, even if I don't recall what they were discussing."

He shrugged, feeling a little self-conscious. "I was six when they passed, so I fear there's little left to say. The house collapsed when I was out."

If there was one thing to say in favor of the Wardens was that it swiftly acclimated its Wardens to what they might consider strange or foreign. Magic and such had long since stopped being as much of a mystery to Hugh as did other cultures. Granted, Nevarrans were a small number in their ranks so this was all new but Hugh welcomed it. He learned years ago what beauty can be found in the unknown.

"Oh, Emmrich," Hugh moved to stroke his love's arm with firm assurance that it was alright. "I'm sorry that happened to you. Six is too young for any sort of grief, but I'm certain their last thoughts in this life was that they were glad you weren't there."

Hugh looked back at the graves and a strange emotion gripped him. To his surprise, he knew it was envy. Was he really envious that Emmrich's own tragedy was quick and without being witnessed? He shook his head, not wanting to be so low as to find anything enviable in that.

"Did you want to sit down now?"

"One can hope," he said. There was no need to dwell on their last thoughts, especially not when he'd heard the chaos of most.

"And yes, let's." He tugged Hugh a little further away, enough that they could lean against the fence as they sat, and took a seat himself. "I also apologize. I hadn't planned to swing this way on our tour. Then the choice presented itself and it felt selfish not to share, after this morning."

Emmrich looked at his company and slid an arm around Hugh's waist, bringing him close. "This is the most conventionally lovely part of the Necropolis, though it has beauty throughout. While it's underground, there's much that doesn't feel it, like these Gardens. Inside and outside are slightly... loose... definitions, within. I've wondered sometimes if there are places so deep in the Deep Roads where it feels similarly? Are there spaces down there that harbor wonder and life?"

It was clear to Hugh that Emmrich didn't want to dwell overlong on his parents' last moments, and he understood entirely. Doubtless, a corpse-whisper had its limits on who they could speak to with any ease or willingness.

"Don't apologize," Hugh replied readily. "It was sweet, and I'm glad you brought me out here. Trusted me to do this. This place is as lovely as you built it up to be."

Hugh moved to sit as close to Emmrich as he could, glad to have Emmrich's arm around him. He listened to him, looked around the Gardens with its ceiling so high he could have believed it was the sky on an overcast day. He almost got lost in its vastness, only to be yanked back down by the question that felt more rhetorical but spurred Hugh to answer.

"No." The single word was flat and final. Only after a pause did Hugh look thoughtful, staring down at his hands, and elaborated. "Any ancient Thaig or underground grotto with luminescent rock is hiding one of two things — darkspawn, or dead Wardens. All of it in the dark."

He swallowed. "I hate everything about that place."

There seemed to be nothing pleasant to Hugh's life, and it saddened Emmrich. His work was darkness and death, ambush and loss. His off times were filled with people who thought cruelty was funny. And while the fortress he'd been in had been sizable, there'd been little in the ways of even basic comforts. He'd seen no comfortable chairs, it was far off from the town as far as entertainment went, the book selection was lacking, what even did they do to enjoy the time?

"I'm sorry," he said quietly, yet again. "I'm glad I can at least share this with you, and perhaps other sections as well if you'd like. We could--"

He was cut off by a cheerful, familiar hiss as a skeleton with backpack, boots, and oversized emerald eyes bumbled into the gardens.

"Manfred! Hello! I trust your trip went well?"

The skeleton nodded his head, bouncing a little, before looking at Hugh and tilting his head.

"Hugh, this is Manfred. Manfred, this is Hugh. I'm seeing him." He was never completely sure what the spirit understood as far as relations among the living went, but there was also never a bad time to introduce new concepts. The spirit clapped his hands and hissed, welcoming, at Hugh.

"He says hello, Hugh. And he actually does, I'm not embellishing. I can understand him even though the physical sound is intelligible. It's thanks to spending so much of my time with and focused on spirits."

Hugh snapped out of his reverie the moment he felt it spill over onto Emmrich's mood. He turned and opened his mouth, ready to say more. Hugh wanted to tell Emmrich about how the Wardens are why he's even here, about the genuine brotherhood he had with the others, and all the times he's been to Jader and the Frostbacks. He's seen beauty in the world and formed lasting friendships. Just none of it was in the Deep Roads.

—That the only thing that healed Hugh's immense hatred of places dark and beneath the earth was Emmrich, and places like this.

"Don't apo—"

And then a little skeleton wearing a backpack is barrelling out of a rose hedge. To Hugh's surprise and maybe Emmrich's as well, Hugh didn't feel alarmed or any sort of need to go on the defensive. The very moment he laid eyes on Manfred, the thought of a youngster coming home from lessons with scabbed knees and muddied clothes was firmly set in his mind.

Hugh followed Emmrich's lead and waited for Manfred to come to them. Both Hugh and Manfred owlishly observed one another, canting their heads like two unfamiliar dogs crossing paths. The question of whether Manfred recognized the significance of what Emmrich said about them or cared would be left unanswered for now. Hugh, first, of course, tried to introduce himself.

"Hello, I—" Hugh started to speak, extending his hand, when Manfred bypassed his outstretched hand to instead grab Hugh by the face with both hands.

A loud, enthusiastic hiss as Manfred's gloved hands moved Hugh's head this and and that. For whatever reason, Hugh indulged this, even when Manfred pulled his lips up and hissed in a low, curious tone at the sight of pointed canines.

"I think he likes me," Hugh said casually as Manfred continued his perplexing inspection of Emmrich's paramour.

Emmrich was delighted by the reaction of both. Clearly Manfred could detect that Hugh was altered, considering how he investigated the man's teeth, which made Emmrich wonder if all spirits could detect it, and if Vorgoth had also been able to tell at a glance. Fascinating. But also potentially dangerous, if the cultists were working with one of the older spirits on the other side of the Veil. Emmwich would need to keep that consideration in the back of his mind.

"He does," Emmrich said warmly. "Don't prod at him too much, Manfred." The instructions were gentle. Clearly the spirit wasn't bothering Hugh, but if he ran into other vampires they might not be as accepting. Part of Emmrich's duty was to make sure the spirit was prepared for the future, even if that future didn't involve either of them leaving the Necropolis. Which was something Emmrich truly hadn't expected to doubt.

His assistant finally pulled back and wiggled, fists up, chittering.

"Yes," Emmrich confirmed. "He's not. But any discussion of that has to stay private, with me or Myrna behind closed doors. He might be in danger."

Manfred bounced in understanding, tilted his head, and hissed.

"Of course. Go ahead." As the spirit dashed off, Emmrich gave Hugh a soft smile. "He asked to go wander through the flowers, which is one of his favorite things to do." He hoped Hugh found Manfred even half as charming and sweet as Emmrich did.

"So that's my Manfred." He'd meant to say assistant, but changed it at the last moment. Manfred was more than an assistant to him, no matter Manfred's formal position.

There was a moment where Hugh thought those comically big, round emeralds in the eternally smiling skull's eye sockets were seeing more. More than the face of the man that Manfred was playing with like clay, anyway. Hugh would have found it disconcerting if the little mite wasn't so strangely adorable about it. Curiosity had its innocent charm, it seemed.

"Careful, those are sharp," Hugh said playfully before Manfred let him go. Even if Manfred didn't have skin to cut, maybe a little healthy dose of wariness towards vampires would do him good, just in case.

The exchange between Manfred and Emmrich was completely unfathomable to Hugh, and he watched on with a perplexed look on his face. Luckily, Emmrich was kind enough to 'translate' as soon as Manfred when trotting off back towards the rose hedges. The smile Emmrich graced him with was returned as the man beamed about his assistant with the same air a parent would bragging about their child getting top marks.

"He's quite the skeleson," Hugh remarked cheekily.

"Hardly," Emmrich said with utter fondness. "I'm simply laying the foundation for him as he evolves and grows beyond what he started as, preparing for his eventual independence. It's a more-intense mentoring, explaining the living world and its rules, helping him have a grounded moral foundation..." The last several words were said with increasing slowness as he watched Manfred play. It wasn't entirely dissimilar from raising a child, actually.

"He makes me tea and grinds ink for me, you don't, one doesn't expect their child to do that, to work, surely?" He didn't talk to a lot of parents. He also didn't deal with the younger students a majority of the time. Maybe his impression of what was expected of a parent was inaccurate.

Either way, he did care more about Manfred than simply as an assistant. The spirit was precious to him, and a vast majority of the time Manfred lived with him. That wasn't the usual arrangement with an assistant. ...Plus Emmrich had set up a little room for Manfred off the kitchenette complete with small bed, pillows, and blankets, even though the spirit didn't need to sleep.

"He is a significant part of my life," Emmrich admitted a little awkwardly.

"Hardly," Hugh agreed with evident irony as Emmrich described exactly what a parent did.

The smile on Hugh's face widened as Emmrich's argument against all comparisons to parenting his little spirit had the opposite effect. Seeing Emmrich watch Manfred and that hint of dawning realizing playing across his face could simply just melt the heart.

"My mother had me hanging the wash and wrist deep in the dirt pulling weeds from the garden when I was old enough to walk, and that was the lighter duties," Hugh pointed out. What were children but unpaid workers that you lived with once they reached a certain age? Only he wasn't going to make that joke. Not when ruminating about Emmrich's parents was so fresh in his lover's mind. "And I'd make you tea if you asked."

The final confession to how important Manfred was to Emmrich that bordered on an admittance softened Hugh's expression. He pulled the older man close and pulled him down to kiss him. Not overlong, in the back of his mind, Hugh worried Manfred might see and be upset or confused.

"You're both adorable."

Hugh was entirely too smug about making his point. Emmrich was trying to come up with some sort of way to defend himself when Hugh threw his focus off with the sweet kiss. He slid his arms around Hugh and lingered there, happy to feel their hearts beat together in this place of memory and death.

"He likes the steam," Emmrich explained. "He'll boil multiple kettles solely to watch it. So I taught him how to make it practical by turning at least one kettle into tea. And he's more adorable than I have ever been. I'm charming."

Amusement filled his words and his eyes. He would never beat the 'adorable' allegations, clearly. At least he could steal another kiss, a slower one this time. Manfred wouldn't be bothered, especially as other wisps were lingering nearby now that he and Hugh were more in physical contact.

"And you are impudent." Not in the full sense of the word, but bold and cheeky for sure.

"Now that I have to see," Hugh snorted. "Whole kitchen must be a sauna."

Clearly still enjoying himself far too much at being the clear victor in this argument-not-argument, Hugh kissed Emmrich happily and greedily. All while somehow maintaining his self-satisfied grin. He wound his arms around Emmrich in answer to his lover's embrace and kissed him again.

"Is it me or are we attracting a light show?" Hugh asked after they separated, now finally taking notice of the gathering wisps floating around them with the gentleness of petals on a spring breeze.

Hugh was far too smug. If his attitude wasn't combined with kisses, Emmrich would... well, nothing. He only rarely wanted to take someone down a peg, and never someone who was harmlessly pleased with themself. He liked seeing the man happy and confident.

Even if Hugh was still a brat.

"Mm?" he asked, only then spotting the additional company. Now it was his turn to smirk just a little. "Oh, yes. They're attracted to romantic couples. Particularly newer ones. We theorize it's the way the emotions are newer there and not routine or settled. Spirits are attracted to emotion, and Curiosity wisps, while simpler fragments of spirit, are still very drawn to it drawn to it. I can ask them to move along, and do when it's needed, but as we're not about to get fully intimate right next to my parents' graves I don't see a reason to do so."

In another place in the Gardens he'd absolutely be into shoving Hugh against something, or being shoved against something, but this corner is not the place for that. No, his parents wouldn't be able to see. And even if they could, he strongly doubted they'd recognize him as their little six-year-old son. That didn't change anything, and he promptly pulled his thoughts back from that particular ledge. He was enjoying himself with Hugh and didn't want the man to ask why his mood was briefly lower.

"They don't listen to everyone, but I have a rapport with them." It was an understatement. "It's... Odd is not the word, but a pair of spirits knew I could corpse-whisper even before I had magic. They brought me in to the Necropolis, and I've been close to spirits ever since. Odd comes to mind simply because corpse-whispering does not involve spirits, as far as our understanding goes. It does involve the Fade in some way, and they are of the Fade, but we don't know the connection there or how those two detected it."

There were times when Hugh would confess to being more of a brat than the situation required. In his defense, Emmrich enjoyed it, and Hugh knew that to be an empirical fact. Emmrich could scrunch his nose or cast a sideways look at every bit of wordplay or harmless show of stubbornness, but his heart rate didn't lie. Neither did subtle chemic shifts that only Hugh could smell and ascertain their meaning. Emmrich literally perspired with his fondness for Hugh's antics.

—And Hugh was so in love with him for it, he could go mad.

"We're certainly both those things," he said as he continued to stare up at the wisps until they slowly but steadily started to disperse around them. Hugh looked back at Emmrich and offered a lopsided smile before saying, "I hope they didn't find some other alluring new couple in here to swarm around. I won't have anyone else stealing out thunder."

He took Emmrich's hand and kissed the back of it, holding it there as he listened.

"Love, you have more than a rapport, you're practically a maestro." The rest of what Emmrich said, however, sobered Hugh's mood a little. "You were telling me about that, Curio and Keepsake, right? Sometimes I think the only way we'll ever understand the Fade is if the whole bloody Veil comes down, Maker forbid."

Hugh didn't want their first date to end on such a somber note so he leaned forward to kiss Emmrich on the cheek and offered a more encouraging smile.

"Want to walk a bit more?"

"I couldn't care less about another couple," Emmrich replied honestly, expression going ridiculously soft as his hand was kissed. He didn't need thunder. He just needed Hugh. His brat.

"And yes, but I like to think I might get somewhere in my studies. I am the Fade expert." That didn't mean a lot outside of academic circles, but the spirits and Fade were what he studied and knew, as well as anyone could. "I've helped construct and refine countless theories, as well as disproved a few." They don't need anything drastic to further understanding, in his opinion.

It was also his opinion that more walking would be lovely. "Let's," he said, getting up and then holding out a hand to help Hugh up. "A bit more, or much more? I can show you around more of the Gardens, or take you to another chamber. There are some truly magnificent sights down here, and we do have all of today. Unless you're getting hungry. You didn't eat much for breakfast."

And Hugh hadn't otherwise fed yesterday, as well.

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