Work Text:
A knock at the door in the middle of the, what the lighthouse tries to imitated, night lets Emmrich's eyes wander to the door of his room only to be met with a sheepish looking man with his ears pointed downwards.
Rook normally does abide to social rules so him getting into contact with others after dusk is a surprise in of it's self.
"Emmrich?" A tiny and pain filled word uttered by this normally vibrant and loud elf is letting all alarm bells ring inside the necromancers head.
Already putting away his nightly readings, with no care of probriaety, Emmrich makes his way over to Rook. The closer he gets he sees the damp forehead, one hand clutching his stomach, his breath shuttering and his body weakly shaking in effort to stand straight up. Even with all of these clear signs of pain, there is no wound or blood to be seen.
"Rook, my friend, what is plaguing you? Is there anyway I can be of service?" The older man is already going throu all the different ways he could release pain while he slowly guides Rook to his chair.
Finally sitting, still shaking and sweating from the effort, Rook finally talks. "I couldn't make it down the stairs to Bellara's or Neve's without fearing to fall down the stairs and- and I'm not sure if they will - fuck I'm really not good at this." Even outspoken rather quietly, with the Lighthouses quietness the elf could have basically yelled and Emmrich would have had no issue to understand what was said. The man infront of him is not only in pain but is ashamed that he in the first place. A very much known agony to Emmrich.
While Rook talked himself into a frenzy, Emmrich was half kneeling infront of the chair and trying to take in the symptoms more accurately. Paleness, hooded eyes, frantic breathing, cramped hand on his stomach, sweating and a great deal of shame in the lively face of their leader. Was he poisend? Food allergy? He did not have any open wounds thanks to Emmrichs constant healing on the battlefield (Neve does not heal Rook for a reason he himself did not find out yet). Maybe an infect? They went for their inspection in the wetlands not very long ago, with the wet and humid atmosphere could have taken it's toll onto Rook's health.
With putting a hand on Rooks shoulder, Emmrichs calm voice halls back from the walls. " Rook, take a deep breath with me, you are starting to hyperventilate. One, two, three, yes. Good work. Once more. One, two,three." With the elfs breathing slowed down something, Emmrich feels his shoulder lessen their tenseness slowly.
"Now, what are you missing, dear Rook? Are we working with poison? Food allergy? Or-"
"I wish. No" the elf sounds bitter or perhaps defeated. An unusual demeanor from their leader thouse far. With a look meaning to be viewed as stoick but rather scarred resulted, the elf looks up into Emmrichs brown eyes. This was the look of a man who got hurt before and is not willing to let that happen again if possible.
"Tell me Professor, what do you know about people who change their outter appearance?" Tone rather flat and eyebrows questioning while trying to let his weakness in the knees not shown. This was not Rook, the leader of the Veilguard, mage of the Mourn Watch. This was a young elf, to whom the world was neither kind nor friendly from the get go because of the shape of his ears and the statue of his body.
Emmrich thinks. "I'm rather familiar with the quarrels of changing ones appearance in any matter of the word. Age, growth, gender, class. What does this have to do with-"
A mutter is stopping Emmrich in the middle of his question.
"Pardon?"
Another mutter rather quietly again even if more destinctive.
"You must excuse an old man's ears but please repeat yourself, Rook."
"I'm trans!" Rook could have rather yelled into the quiet of the room and it wouldn't have made a difference. Rook's eyes do no longer linger on Emmrich but rather on the ground infront of his feet. Shoulder tense again, reading to jump out of the chair, swallowing down the pain their very clearly are in, only to not get hurt on another level of existence. The elfs body language is breaking Emmrichs heart.
"I understand." A lot of things clicked into place. The fact that they needed to take potions even while obviously not being hurt. The rather tight clothing choices, which Emmrich put down to youthfull confidence but was rather born out of bodily pride. The elfes mixuture of confidence and demure at the same time. Even while proud of himself there seems to be a sense of shame in his demeanor. Rook accepted himself but also knows that not everyone will.
And he didn't knew what Emmrichs reaction would be to this information. Even while the necropolis is more open towards same sex relations, gender changing medicine is still rather new to the public, even while it was available to the noble houses, to the public it only got of use a few decades ago. Which of course means, even now, there are biggotted people out there who make it their issue what sex someone identifies as.
It hurts the human's soul to think how much pain the rather stunning individual infront of him needed to endure. Without his active thought putting into it, Emmrich caresses Rook's shoulder with his tumb. He's safe. He will be as long as Emmrich has a hand in it.
"What is it that pains you, my friend?" Rook's eyes slowly move to Emmrichs again. Less in defense mode since the word 'friend' came over his lips. With a deep breath and a little less fear behind his eyes, Rook opens up.
"I- since we are residing in the Lighthouse, my cramps got worse and worse. Normally i'm able to withhold the pain with medicine but i ran out last time it seems and i can't walk downstair to Neve or Bellara because they don't know what is going on and and and" Rooks breathing gets harder again while talking.
"Okay okay, Rook, i got an idea that could help if you were amendable to some magic instead of potions. I do not have any healing potions at my disposal at the moment." A mistake which will not happen again. He needs to take a trip to the Necropolis and Treviso tomorrow.
A nod from the elf is all he needed to lay his hand above the one clawing at the elfes stomach. A green glow enlightens his hands and let his rings reflect its light onto the elfes face. A face which was rather handsome in these shades of green. Oh wait. This is something to unpack later. Right now, Rook needs his help.
A slight hum is ermitting out of Rooks throat, the glow intensifies. He lets some of his own magic flow back into Emmrich. An act out of accidence, Emmrich is sure. Resonating magic with someone elses magic is a intimate endeavor for partners only. An accident for sure.
The healing magic seem to work. Rook is breathing has returned to normal and his whole body isn't as tense as it was before. Letting out a huge sigh, the elf leanes back in the chair, eyes closed and relief playing one his face.
"By the maker. Thank you so much, Professor." The glow starts to simmer down slowly. " Always at your service, dear Rook." Rook opens his eyes again and the look of gratitude is too heavy for Emmrich to bear. He lets his head fall in thanks.
"And please call me Emmrich. We are friends, there is no need for titles."
A slow and tired smile is spreading the elfes lips.
"Of course, my apologies. I will do my best."
Rising out of the chair and making his way over to the door, Rook turns around one more time. Emmrich is slowly standing up from kneeling so long on hard stone floor. He wouldn't recommend this exercise to anyone else but the most important part was him able to help. And if this is not worth getting hurting knees them he doesnt know what does.
"Oh, and Pro- Emmrich?" The professor turns around to face him.
"My name's Salvus. The 'no titles' rules goes both way, friend. Have a good night and thank you again."
With a last shy smile in his direction, Salvus makes his way back to his own quarters.
Salvus. An old name. 'Alive and free of difficulties'. A wish more than a promise it seems. A wish Emmrich will very much do his best to help to fulfill of the young man let's him. Even if only in the little moments like these today.
"Rest well, Salvus."
What a beautiful name to left his tongue. He will be excited to repeat it.