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ice-knife · 6 months ago

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hide your bloodshot eyes (i think too much)

~1.9k words, bellarook (pre-relationship), hurt/comfort. one thing to know about me is that i love an antivan crow who is scared to navigate sincere interpersonal relationships but tries anyway. title is from “losing streak” by paper planes. spoilers for the act 2 datv quest “the demon’s bargain” since this takes place immediately after it

The dust hasn’t even had a chance to settle after the last demon has been slain before Bellara suggests “Let’s get Hamuel and Yenarel back to camp.”

“Shouldn’t we go after Cyrian first?” Russo asks, startled. It would only make sense to solve this problem first, since it’s reared its head now. They can keep going, and the other Veil Jumpers could find these two soon enough—

Bellara first answers with silence, and coming from her that says plenty before any actual words can. By the time he’s turned to look at her properly, she’s rearranged whatever expression she’d had before into something… not flat, but trying to be. It’s too dark to manage that.

“He’s gone,” she says finally. Then, with a quick breath and a peppier tone, she adds: “C’mon. Let’s signal the others.”

Russo just nods, and he doesn’t say anything about how she had backed away from Cyrian’s outstretched hand. He can’t forget about it, though. Bellara — who grabs the nearest forearm for emphasis when explaining something exciting, who had hugged Neve after she returned from Minrathous — had recoiled from her little brother’s offer of touch.

He thinks to check in to see how she’s feeling, now that the worst is over. It’s only when he tries to think of what to say, though, that he realizes he doesn’t know where to even start.

Instead, he offers to help set up the signal flare.

⁂

“We need to stop him. No matter what.”

It isn’t an easy conversation for anyone involved. Cyrian was supposed to be dead, and all of the Veil Jumpers who’d known about him had believed that he was. But since he’s apparently alive and working for a Forgotten One, the conversation must be had. Strife is, Russo thinks, trying to be gentle as he talks about what needs to be done, but there’s no doubt in his voice.

“I know, Strife, but…” Bellara still leaves uncertain space around her words, even as she lifts her chin to speak. “I can get through to him. I know I can.”

Irelin voices the thought that had crossed Russo’s mind immediately: “And… if you can’t?”

Bellara’s expression falls, and her gaze goes down with it. At first, Russo thinks she’s gathering her thoughts before answering. As the silence goes on a little longer, he assumes she’s gathering her strength instead. It wouldn’t be surprising.

But then, she finally lifts her eyes again. She looks to him, not to Irelin or even to Strife. There’s strain written all across her face, from the thin line of her lips to the crease between her eyebrows where they’re trying to knit together. His stomach drops as though the earth has started to crumble away under his feet.

“Right,” he says, then realizes that he’s said it. He looks toward the other two and gives a quick nod. “Come on. We should head back to the Lighthouse.”

It isn’t a graceful exit, but it’s a necessary one. Neither of the other Veil Jumpers argue, and Russo turns to follow Bellara, who’d started marching toward the Eluvian as soon as he’d suggested returning.

They don’t say anything during the trip back, as short as the trip from Arlathan Forest to the Lighthouse is. By virtue of her quick pace, Bellara leads the way forward, and Russo isn’t about to ask her to slow down. He wouldn’t know what to say to her even if he could ask, and that’s assuming she would listen.

Something aches between his ribs, the pain present since he realized he didn’t know what to say to comfort her.

Comfort, in his experience, is hard to come by. He’s long since taught himself how to get by with a brave face and a focus on other things. That doesn’t mean, though, that he can’t recognize that Bellara is clearly trying to keep herself together in the wake of so much earth-shattering news. She needs comfort right now. He can’t just leave her to deal with this alone.

She disappears into the Eluvian to return to the Lighthouse while he’s still thinking. Losing sight of her makes that ache throb, and he picks his pace up into a run.

She’s kept her purposeful stride, which means she’s halfway out of the chamber by the time Russo catches up. “Bellara, wait,” he calls as soon as he sees her again, hoping to get her attention even if she doesn’t stop.

But then, she does. She doesn’t turn to face him, but she does stop walking. He slows to a stop just one pace behind her, but his heart keeps going as though in a dead sprint.

“…Bellara,” he repeats. “I’m… I…” Try as he might, he can’t find the words to follow up.

But he could put a hand on her shoulder. Would she appreciate that, when she’d backed away from Cyrian’s hand?

“C… Can I…?” The words still aren’t coming, so he tries anyway. He reaches his hand out to rest on the back of her upper arm. It would be easy for her to shrug him away if she didn’t want him there. The warmth of her skin seeps through her shirt and his thin glove.

She moves suddenly, and he takes his hand back. Surprisingly, he realizes he can see her face; she’s looking up at him again, her eyes glittering and her chin wobbling dangerously from the intense curve of her frown—

He has just long enough to register her expression before it’s been hidden in his shoulder, and her arms are wrapped around his ribs.

Stunned, he stands rigidly in place as he takes stock of what’s happened. Not only had Bellara not actually shrugged his touch away, but now she was pressed against him with her whole body. Her hands had curled into fists and found purchase on his cape, and she’s holding onto him as though letting go would mean drifting away. It doesn’t quite make sense. Not, at least, until a keening sob escapes her, and she buries her face further into his shoulder.

He realizes, then, that his heart is still pounding.

He realizes as well, shortly afterward, that Bellara is trembling a little against him.

With a shuddering exhale — had he been holding his breath? — he’s able to command his limbs again, and he wraps her in a hug of his own, arms securely around her shoulders. She makes another little noise as he does, a gasp in between sobs, but she doesn’t try to move away at all. Instead, she burrows against him even closer. Encouraged, he closes his eyes and bows his head a little, resting it against hers.

“I’ve got you,” he whispers.

She says something that’s probably meant to be an answer, but it’s lost in the fabric of his cape. No matter. He tightens his grip in a squeeze for a moment before giving slack again, to reaffirm for her that his words were true.

Somehow she starts crying harder in response, which sends a bolt of panic through him. He doesn’t have the benefit of practice to know whether or not this is a bad sign, or if there’s anything he isn’t doing that he should be doing. However, she doesn’t let him go even as she weeps, and so he holds on just as she does.

“…‘Msorry,” she mumbles after some time.

“Hey,” he answers, his voice gentle. “It’s all right.”

“I-I know you… don’t like to touch…”

It’s true, and he knows she knows that. He also knows she’s prone to forgetting things, although she’s been consistent about asking for permission before touching him, ordinarily. More than that, though, he knows this — her dead brother appearing in the flesh to tell her he’s been killing her fellow Veil Jumpers under the orders of a Forgotten One — is far an ordinary circumstance.

“It’s all right,” he repeats. “You’re all right. I… I think you need this.”

Bellara sniffles, then nods against his shoulder. “Yeah…” Her voice catches on the single syllable, and another sob follows it.

“I’m here,” he swears.

That must be the right thing to say, because even as she hides her face once more, he can feel the tension in her shoulders ebb away little by little. He keeps her close, as close as she needs, as her crying becomes more and more quiet.

Time always feels a little strange in proximity of the Eluvian. He could have already been holding her for a few minutes or a few hours, or even a few days, and he wouldn’t know the difference. As long as she’s solid in his arms like this, he doesn’t think it matters too much.

By a certain point, she’s stopped trembling but still hasn’t let go. Russo starts to wonder if she’s now just crying silently. Hoping to help without rushing her, he shifts his weight slowly from one foot to the other, bringing her with him as he moves. She leans into him more, he notices, as he starts to sway like this.

“Feeling any better?” he asks, a little cautiously still.

“A little.” He hadn’t been expecting her voice to sound as clear as it does — she isn’t back to normal yet, and he wouldn’t expect her to be, but her tears must have stopped.

He stops swaying and lifts his head away from hers, and she lifts her head out of his shoulder as well. The red in and around her eyes brings the ache he’d felt earlier to the fore once again. When he looks at the rest of her face, though, despite the tear tracks across her face and the texture of his cape imprinted onto her cheek, he finds a soft smile. Soft and, most importantly, free from the effort of trying to hold herself together.

“You look better.”

“Pfff.” He hadn’t meant the remark as a joke, but he doesn’t stop her from laughing. “No, I don’t,” she continues. “I’m sure I look like a mess. O-Oh, no, I just cried all over you…”

Ah. She’s already three emotions ahead of him again. “Bellara, it’s all right,” he assures. “Like I said, you needed this. I really don’t mind.”

She opens her mouth like she’s about to correct him, but something seems to make her second-guess that approach. Instead, she blinks, and then that soft smile returns. “Okay. …Thanks, Rook. I really, really did. Need this, I mean.”

“I’m glad I could help.” He finds himself smiling, too, the feeling comfortable in his cheeks.

He feels her grip on his cape loosen; taking this as a cue, he finally lets go of the hug. Almost immediately her absence leaves him feeling cooler, the emptiness of the space she no longer occupies now a tangible thing. She doesn’t stray far just yet, and she first wipes at her face with her hands, then puts her hands behind her back, the way she does when she’s thinking.

“Do you… Do you want some tea?” she asks. “I should probably have something to drink, after all of that. We could ask Manfred to make some. I bet he’d like to.”

Oh. She doesn’t want to part ways just yet. “Sure. Tea sounds really good.”

He’s ready to follow her out to the courtyard, but she falls into step beside him. The flapping bird of his heart finally calms as they walk out of the chamber together.

#Dragon Age #DATV spoilers #Bellara Lutare #Bellarook #Rook de Riva #oc: russo #r: russo and bellara #Russo de Riva #no further game spoilers in the tags pls!! i literally stopped after completing this quest and knocked words out kshdjfg #russo is learning that not all touch means Someone Will Kill Him. bellara is a very good teacher :)#anyway. hough. bellara my poor baby girl i’m so sorry about your brother #my stuff #kyu writes

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