He hadn't left because he was embarrassed by their relationship, and that changed everything. It didn't fully explain everything, like why he looked so stressed, but Emmrich thought it might be safe to say Rook wasn't here to end things.
"Yelling at her would have been a little disproportionate of a response." And drawn even worse attention. Rook was right to walk away, in that case. Which meant, if Emmrich was drawing the correct conclusion, maybe they did need to have a talk, but on a different topic.
He held out a hand toward Rook. There was a chair nearby, or the man could always perch on the desk, either way, he just wanted Rook closer instead of in the doorway as if he needed to be able to run at a moment's notice.
"Perhaps we should sort out ways to respond to that in the future, if," no, he will not go with if. He will act as if this is continuing because he wants to believe it is, "as I did not know how to respond either. Neve covered for me. For us. I thought you were humiliated and I had no idea of what to think or do."
Maybe that was too honest. But if he wanted Rook to be open, he needed to be open as well.
Whatever guilt might have been assuaged after Rook tried to explain himself redoubled with a painful twist in his stomach at Emmrich's admission. Rook had left Emmrich in a difficult position because of his own impulsiveness. His efforts to mitigate any damage had evidently blown up in both their faces. Rook made a note in the back of his mind to apologize to Neve for dragging her into this as well.
"I hadn't—" Rook started but cut himself short, not certain what mealy-mouthed excuse would justify his behavior. Right now, it seemed the more he said, just dug himself in deeper.
When Emmrich hadn't turned him away when he had every right to and instead extended his hand, Rook allowed himself that little hope he hadn't entirely screwed up. While ordinarily being beckoned over by the other man would have thrilled, Rook went with a reluctance that slowed each step. He settles for perching on the edge of the desk, mindful of the several stacks of books and whatever else crowded its space. It was high enough that Rook's feet barely touched the ground, leaving him with an odd sense of vulnerability.
"Because chances are it will happen again," Rook said, making the salient point neither of them really wanted to hear. "At the markets, it...had startled me, and I didn't trust my own words then."
One of the things Emmrich found most reassuring when shaken was physical contact, but Rook not only chose to not take his hand, but to walk over as if it was torture. Emmrich had navigated many relationships in his years but this one keeps throwing him and leaving him at a loss.
He would deal with his emotions later. He could deal with his emotions later. For now he needs to focus on the present matter.
Emmrich nodded to the comment. "Our allies know us, and we spend most of our time in the field or in groups where we're known. But as we expand our efforts, and then after we succeed, there will be many others who will be... unfamiliar."
If Rook kept him around for that long. If Rook didn't realize he could do better.
"I'm at a loss still for what would be a diplomatic response." It wasn't like he could say he wasn't old enough to be Rook's father. "Perhaps a simple statement of fact would be the easiest? We're not related, and this is my partner? Or paramour?"
Facts were good. Facts were solid. It would still be embarrassing for the speaker, but perhaps it would not be so embarrassing that it caused conflict.
"Oh, fuck off." Rook was tired, and he knew he was taking it out on the last person who deserved his ire. "What was I supposed to say? Next time, I'll just scream to the masses what a lovely couple we are?" He was almost mad with the ideas as he said it, "Because I will if it pleases you just—"
Emmrich would know a kind word and understand his struggles and where they came from a hurt place. Rook was white-knuckled on the edge of his seat and regarded Emmrich like something he was going to have ripped away from him.
"What scared me," Rook was willing to admit after coming down from his all-smoke and fury moment, "Was that they would even, unknowingly, compare someone as kind as you to that bastard."
He flinched as if struck, pulling back visibly and only stopping because he hit the back of his chair.
"Ah," was all he managed. This wasn't the first time he'd had someone snap at him out of fury, but he'd never been told to 'fuck off' by someone he cared about even a fraction as much.
Thanks to allusions here and there he could gather that the last was meant as a compliment, but for once Emmrich was struggling to find some way to snap back into the moment.
"Right, of course." Leaving it at that could not go well. Thankfully he finds one way to somewhat rally: "They didn't, she didn't know, obviously, she, that wasn't the comparison."
Rook immediately appeared scandalized by his own words, Fingers drawn to the edge of lips where he worried a nail between his teeth. Emmrich wasn't why he was angry and the last person he'd want to vent these frustrations on.
"I only meant..." Rook stopped nervously playing with his own hands to reach out and place his solidly over Emmrich's own. Looking at him with a gaze that spoke of a want for forgiveness he hasn't yet earned.
The touch helped. It was grounding, connecting, and reminded Emmrich of all of the other times that hand had been on him. Something here was deeply wrong, but it didn't mean everything was broken.
Emmrich nodded. "Please." An explanation could make this easier, or so he hoped. Perhaps there was some way to distance 'father' from 'my father', some way to cut the association that seemed to be the issue, but he needed more information before he was to sort that particular knot out.
He also, probably, needed continued physical contact to soothe his startled nerves.
"I-" He always stumbled on the words; he failed to talk about the pertinent topic of himself. It was easier, kinder even, to shove everything under the rug then to drag and dust everyone other.
Emmrich was going to hate him. Now, that everything would be out in the open, he would see someone who joined the Wardens as the last resort and find his company lacking. Might as well give him a good reason, Rook considered on a shake exhale.
"I never told you why or how I ended up with the Wardens because normally the rank and file tales in thieves and killers looking to get off the gallows and I..."
Rook swallowed as he found the words, "I happen to be one of them."
"I thought that might be the case. Not due to anything you've done or how you've acted, but due to the fact that you've never spoken about the Wardens the way Davrin does. You've never struck me as someone who aspired to join them."
Someone's past should not forever define them if they've made an attempt to change, and the man before him is admirable. Emmrich placed his other hand over Rook's, sandwiching his partner's hand.
"I've never judged you for it. I take people as I find them. But I feel like the strength of your reactions here means I must know what happened in your past. We cannot move past this if I don't understand."
"First Warden never exactly gave me something to speak fondly of in the first place."
Rook laughed. Only it was a hollow sound like it was just trying to fill space, or play for time. He held that hand like a lifeline.
"I killed my father."
There it was - just plainly said. Why he was on the edge of a noose; the reason he was jumpy and nervous on even the implications of Emmrich having any affinity.
Emmrich gave Rook's hand a squeeze and shook his head.
"I don't see a reason to apologize." Someone who had done something like that for heinous reasons would be spilling forth with excuses from the start, and between that and what Emmrich knows of Rook Emmrich is certain that Rook is no murderer.
"Why did you do it? What happened?" Emmrich does not have blood-free hands either. Rook was there when Emmrich freed the spirits so they could end Johanna, not to mention the countless Venatori and Antaam they've killed. There's a line. He does not think Rook crossed it.
"I've...told you that my family escaped the Blight when I was young?"
Escaped was a funny word—fled more like, with the clothes on their back and his mother and elder brother freshly burned before the Blight could take them further. Rook shuddered at the memory, grounded by Emmrich being here and his own fears of oblivion slipping away.
"Something broke in him," Rook confessed in a tired and almost far-off voice. "After my mother— well, he drank, and when he drank, he became a monster. When I wasn't there and off working to take the licks my sister, she—"
Words broke off with the choked noises of a man trying very hard and failing not to cry. Rook dug the heel of his palm into his face to stifle any wayward tears as he collected himself.
"I had barely turned nineteen, and when he was drunk one night, I didn't see the man that barely held us together to escape the Blight; I just saw a monster hitting my sister, and I— I was an animal after that."
It is not gratifying to be right when Rook is falling apart in front of him.
"You saw someone vulnerable being attacked by someone stronger, and intervened. You protected. That's not the actions of an animal."
Nor is it cause to be sentenced to death. Emmrich does not get angry easily, but there is a cold fury in the back of his mind at the people who would sentence a young man to die for such a thing. But that cannot be addressed right now, if ever, and Emmrich is a practical man.
"You and your sister deserved better, my dearest." He wanted to hug Rook, but wasn't sure it would be welcome right now. Sometimes the man was prickly about being vulnerable and getting comfort.
"But the shopkeeper... Her and others who make similar comments don't know what cruelties you've endured. They mean it as a compliment, somehow, as ignorant and misguided and jumping to assumptions it is, and we have to meet them at that place. I want this, Rook. If you're still, if this isn't enough to chase you off, the fact that we will get these comments and not just from Harding, then we need to separate the concept of your actual father from it."
"She doesn't want anything to do with me. What sort of brother is that?"
Rook let the tears come, only just long enough for him to choke them back down. Enough for it to feel cathartic enough to piece himself back together. — He hadn't even spoken Lyla's name in nearly a decade, so this felt like something burgeoning on the good.
"I—Emmrich..." Rook wanted so badly to fall into the other man's arms then and there had not the gripping fear or being not worth such a thing held him back. "You're the only good thing in my life, do you know that? Before you, the only thing I had to look forward to was another posting in the backends of nowhere and the first Warden yelling at me.
I'll take whatever anyone might say...I just need time, I guess."
The way Rook stumbled on Emmrich's name, with the questions, make it impossible for Emmrich to stay seated. If Rook pulled away so be it, but Emmrich got up and wrapped his arms around the man in case, holding him tight and close.
"Victims can react in strange ways. Many internalize that they deserve the abuse they receive because it's a comfort. It suggests that nothing will happen they don't deserve, that there's a line that won't be crossed even though lines are being crossed." It's why some mages wanted the Circles.
"And she doesn't know what she's missing. You bring such joy to my life, Rook. I cannot imagine it without you now that I have you in it. You make my days brighter." There was the shortest of pauses in which he contemplated going further and then gave in. He shouldn't avoid something that might help. "And my nights quite exciting."
"I miss him, sometimes," Rook remembered the man who carried him on his shoulders and told him stories before it all was stained ruddy black with the Blight. "Hurt can be a comfort when all you're fed is poison."
Rook was bitter about a lot. He never measured well as a Warden and hardly rated as much else. Who was he to kill gods, much less save another?
And then Emmrich, I'd hold him, and the world is much less loud. The gentle weight of those arms around him and the painful patience in the hesitation it took to get them there.
"Touch me..." Rook murmured into Emmrich's shoulder, pulling him closer. He didn't want to think about the past or hell, even the next ten seconds, if he could get those hands on him.
The issue isn't fully sorted out. It could cause problems again. On top of that, it's clear that Rook is carrying so much baggage regarding his family. But Rook is saying what he wants clearly for a change and Emmrich thinks it should be rewarded.
Emmrich splays the long fingers of one hand across Rook's back, rubbing it. He knows it's almost definitely not just a request for physical contact thanks to the context, which is why he glides his other hand down to Rook's waistband. It's the work of a half-second to untuck Rook's shirt and slide his hand up it and along the bare skin there.
"Anything and everything you want, love." It's the gentlest whisper.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
"Yelling at her would have been a little disproportionate of a response." And drawn even worse attention. Rook was right to walk away, in that case. Which meant, if Emmrich was drawing the correct conclusion, maybe they did need to have a talk, but on a different topic.
He held out a hand toward Rook. There was a chair nearby, or the man could always perch on the desk, either way, he just wanted Rook closer instead of in the doorway as if he needed to be able to run at a moment's notice.
"Perhaps we should sort out ways to respond to that in the future, if," no, he will not go with if. He will act as if this is continuing because he wants to believe it is, "as I did not know how to respond either. Neve covered for me. For us. I thought you were humiliated and I had no idea of what to think or do."
Maybe that was too honest. But if he wanted Rook to be open, he needed to be open as well.
no subject
"I hadn't—" Rook started but cut himself short, not certain what mealy-mouthed excuse would justify his behavior. Right now, it seemed the more he said, just dug himself in deeper.
When Emmrich hadn't turned him away when he had every right to and instead extended his hand, Rook allowed himself that little hope he hadn't entirely screwed up. While ordinarily being beckoned over by the other man would have thrilled, Rook went with a reluctance that slowed each step. He settles for perching on the edge of the desk, mindful of the several stacks of books and whatever else crowded its space. It was high enough that Rook's feet barely touched the ground, leaving him with an odd sense of vulnerability.
"Because chances are it will happen again," Rook said, making the salient point neither of them really wanted to hear. "At the markets, it...had startled me, and I didn't trust my own words then."
no subject
He would deal with his emotions later. He could deal with his emotions later. For now he needs to focus on the present matter.
Emmrich nodded to the comment. "Our allies know us, and we spend most of our time in the field or in groups where we're known. But as we expand our efforts, and then after we succeed, there will be many others who will be... unfamiliar."
If Rook kept him around for that long. If Rook didn't realize he could do better.
"I'm at a loss still for what would be a diplomatic response." It wasn't like he could say he wasn't old enough to be Rook's father. "Perhaps a simple statement of fact would be the easiest? We're not related, and this is my partner? Or paramour?"
Facts were good. Facts were solid. It would still be embarrassing for the speaker, but perhaps it would not be so embarrassing that it caused conflict.
no subject
Emmrich would know a kind word and understand his struggles and where they came from a hurt place. Rook was white-knuckled on the edge of his seat and regarded Emmrich like something he was going to have ripped away from him.
"What scared me," Rook was willing to admit after coming down from his all-smoke and fury moment, "Was that they would even, unknowingly, compare someone as kind as you to that bastard."
no subject
"Ah," was all he managed. This wasn't the first time he'd had someone snap at him out of fury, but he'd never been told to 'fuck off' by someone he cared about even a fraction as much.
Thanks to allusions here and there he could gather that the last was meant as a compliment, but for once Emmrich was struggling to find some way to snap back into the moment.
"Right, of course." Leaving it at that could not go well. Thankfully he finds one way to somewhat rally: "They didn't, she didn't know, obviously, she, that wasn't the comparison."
no subject
"I only meant..." Rook stopped nervously playing with his own hands to reach out and place his solidly over Emmrich's own. Looking at him with a gaze that spoke of a want for forgiveness he hasn't yet earned.
"Please just...let me explain."
no subject
Emmrich nodded. "Please." An explanation could make this easier, or so he hoped. Perhaps there was some way to distance 'father' from 'my father', some way to cut the association that seemed to be the issue, but he needed more information before he was to sort that particular knot out.
He also, probably, needed continued physical contact to soothe his startled nerves.
no subject
Emmrich was going to hate him. Now, that everything would be out in the open, he would see someone who joined the Wardens as the last resort and find his company lacking. Might as well give him a good reason, Rook considered on a shake exhale.
"I never told you why or how I ended up with the Wardens because normally the rank and file tales in thieves and killers looking to get off the gallows and I..."
Rook swallowed as he found the words, "I happen to be one of them."
no subject
"I thought that might be the case. Not due to anything you've done or how you've acted, but due to the fact that you've never spoken about the Wardens the way Davrin does. You've never struck me as someone who aspired to join them."
Someone's past should not forever define them if they've made an attempt to change, and the man before him is admirable. Emmrich placed his other hand over Rook's, sandwiching his partner's hand.
"I've never judged you for it. I take people as I find them. But I feel like the strength of your reactions here means I must know what happened in your past. We cannot move past this if I don't understand."
no subject
Rook laughed. Only it was a hollow sound like it was just trying to fill space, or play for time. He held that hand like a lifeline.
"I killed my father."
There it was - just plainly said. Why he was on the edge of a noose; the reason he was jumpy and nervous on even the implications of Emmrich having any affinity.
"Emmrich, I'm so sorry."
no subject
"I don't see a reason to apologize." Someone who had done something like that for heinous reasons would be spilling forth with excuses from the start, and between that and what Emmrich knows of Rook Emmrich is certain that Rook is no murderer.
"Why did you do it? What happened?" Emmrich does not have blood-free hands either. Rook was there when Emmrich freed the spirits so they could end Johanna, not to mention the countless Venatori and Antaam they've killed. There's a line. He does not think Rook crossed it.
no subject
Escaped was a funny word—fled more like, with the clothes on their back and his mother and elder brother freshly burned before the Blight could take them further. Rook shuddered at the memory, grounded by Emmrich being here and his own fears of oblivion slipping away.
"Something broke in him," Rook confessed in a tired and almost far-off voice. "After my mother— well, he drank, and when he drank, he became a monster. When I wasn't there and off working to take the licks my sister, she—"
Words broke off with the choked noises of a man trying very hard and failing not to cry. Rook dug the heel of his palm into his face to stifle any wayward tears as he collected himself.
"I had barely turned nineteen, and when he was drunk one night, I didn't see the man that barely held us together to escape the Blight; I just saw a monster hitting my sister, and I— I was an animal after that."
no subject
"You saw someone vulnerable being attacked by someone stronger, and intervened. You protected. That's not the actions of an animal."
Nor is it cause to be sentenced to death. Emmrich does not get angry easily, but there is a cold fury in the back of his mind at the people who would sentence a young man to die for such a thing. But that cannot be addressed right now, if ever, and Emmrich is a practical man.
"You and your sister deserved better, my dearest." He wanted to hug Rook, but wasn't sure it would be welcome right now. Sometimes the man was prickly about being vulnerable and getting comfort.
"But the shopkeeper... Her and others who make similar comments don't know what cruelties you've endured. They mean it as a compliment, somehow, as ignorant and misguided and jumping to assumptions it is, and we have to meet them at that place. I want this, Rook. If you're still, if this isn't enough to chase you off, the fact that we will get these comments and not just from Harding, then we need to separate the concept of your actual father from it."
no subject
Rook let the tears come, only just long enough for him to choke them back down. Enough for it to feel cathartic enough to piece himself back together. — He hadn't even spoken Lyla's name in nearly a decade, so this felt like something burgeoning on the good.
"I—Emmrich..." Rook wanted so badly to fall into the other man's arms then and there had not the gripping fear or being not worth such a thing held him back. "You're the only good thing in my life, do you know that? Before you, the only thing I had to look forward to was another posting in the backends of nowhere and the first Warden yelling at me.
I'll take whatever anyone might say...I just need time, I guess."
no subject
"Victims can react in strange ways. Many internalize that they deserve the abuse they receive because it's a comfort. It suggests that nothing will happen they don't deserve, that there's a line that won't be crossed even though lines are being crossed." It's why some mages wanted the Circles.
"And she doesn't know what she's missing. You bring such joy to my life, Rook. I cannot imagine it without you now that I have you in it. You make my days brighter." There was the shortest of pauses in which he contemplated going further and then gave in. He shouldn't avoid something that might help. "And my nights quite exciting."
no subject
Rook was bitter about a lot. He never measured well as a Warden and hardly rated as much else. Who was he to kill gods, much less save another?
And then Emmrich, I'd hold him, and the world is much less loud. The gentle weight of those arms around him and the painful patience in the hesitation it took to get them there.
"Touch me..." Rook murmured into Emmrich's shoulder, pulling him closer. He didn't want to think about the past or hell, even the next ten seconds, if he could get those hands on him.
no subject
Emmrich splays the long fingers of one hand across Rook's back, rubbing it. He knows it's almost definitely not just a request for physical contact thanks to the context, which is why he glides his other hand down to Rook's waistband. It's the work of a half-second to untuck Rook's shirt and slide his hand up it and along the bare skin there.
"Anything and everything you want, love." It's the gentlest whisper.