Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Neve’s job that night had been simple enough. She’d found her client’s wife alright, in the arms of the lover she’d run off with. No harm had come to either woman, only that they wanted to be left alone. Her client had not been the husband he claimed to be, and Neve had thrown his coin back at him with disgust. Now she was exhausted, out the money, and her back was starting to ache as she sank down onto her couch with relief.

There was a knock at her door. Neve thought about ignoring it at first. She’d already taken off her prosthetic for the night, rubbed out the sore muscle, closed her eyes against the impending headache. It was far, far too late for anything good to be at her door.

Then it happened again, and she groaned, getting up and strapping on, cursing whoever it was. She opened the door and there he was, covered in soot and blood, and Neve couldn’t tell how much of it was his and how of it was someone else’s. A man she hadn’t seen in years. Not since he’d left for the Wardens.

“Ceren?”

He stumbled over the threshold, straight into her arms as he tried to keep his feet, hand plastered to the wound on his stomach.

“Neve Gallus.” He groaned. “I-I didn’t know where else to go.”

Then he collapsed on her floor. Neve stared at him, then went into action, rolling him over and trying to find where he was hurt. All his damnable layers he cloaked himself in. He’d joined the ranks of the Chantry in full. Which didn’t answer the question of why he’d come to her. His eyes were half-slitted, that much she could see at least, and she jostled him awake.

“Don’t you dare go to sleep. Talk to me. What happened?”

Ceren growled at her and as it had always been with him, there was no teeth to it. The snarling act may work on others, but never her.

“Venatori.”

Neve narrowed her eyes. “For you?”

He glared at her as she found the worst of his injuries. A slash across his stomach, shallow but not deep enough to disembowel him and wasn’t that the smallest of mercies. She let the ice flow from her hands to stop the bleeding.

“You need a proper healer.”

“No.”

Ceren snapped, grabbing her wrist. His touch light but firm, shaking his head.

“Ceren you-”

“They’ll be looking for me.” He insisted and Neve sat back on her heels, and it finally clicked into place.

“You’re Ashur’s man. You’re working for the Shadows.”

Ceren slumped back onto his back, staring at her ceiling. Not answering her question. But it fit. His mysterious return to the city. A new contact in the Chantry no one knew the name of. His presence here now, when he couldn’t have known where she lived without speaking to Ashur.

“I shouldn’t have come here. I’ve put you in danger.”

Neve wasn’t sure whether or not to slap sense into him. She was always in danger in Docktown.

“Ashur gave you my name for a reason.” He’d let her wrist go, but the heat of his touch lingered.

Ceren groaned and sat up, trying to push his way to his feet. “I’ll go-”

He winced and Neve grabbed his shoulder, shaking her head. “Enough. You’re staying. But you need a healer.”

“Just get me a needle and thread. I can do it. You don’t need to draw more attention to yourself.”

His eyes were flitting over her, now covered in his blood. Neve shook her head.

“You can’t-”

His smile was more feral than not. “Trust me. I can.”

Neve hesitated, then nodded. She handed him what he needed and gave up and cut through the layers of cloth. He did the work of scrubbing the wound clean himself and she wondered how many times he’d done it as a Warden. While he worked she tried to find him some clothes he could wear. When he grunted, hand shaking, she fought from going to his side again, knowing he wouldn’t thank her for it. Their eyes met and he huffed.

“It’s alright Neve Gallus. I’m alright.”

“Ceren why did you come to me. He gave you other names I’m sure.”

He finished tying off the wound, sinking back onto his elbows, sweat beading his forehead. She didn’t think he’d answer. Then he winked.

“Do you still smoke?”

Neve decided she was going to kill him before the night was over. Too late, she glanced out the window and the sky was starting to lighten. Ceren got to his feet, stumbling in his ruined clothes and she groaned.

“Go get changed. I’ll clean up the blood.”

Ceren took the proffered clothes, his face softening. A mere fraction. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.”

She got to work, which gave her time to realize how exhausted she was. Not that she would have turned any of the Shadows away, but this? Ceren wasn’t wrong to be worried about what trouble he’d brought to her door. Neve finished and changed herself, just in time for another knock at the door.

“Neve.”

She’d recognize Rana’s voice anywhere. She could hear Ceren freeze in her bedroom, and her heart tripped against her rib cage. When she looked down at her hands, her fingernails were ringed in rust.  Neve opened the door and Rana’s eyes darted inside.

“Not even a hello first?” Hard to hear her own voice, with her heart pounding in her ears.

“I’m here as a friend, not a Templar.” Rana shook her head. “You’re putting yourself in danger.”  

Neve crossed her arms, leaning on the door. “This surprises you?”

“We just found five bodies. Burned beyond recognition. The only way we recognized them as Venatori were their weapons. They might have kidnapped the Brother that was supposed to be at the Chantry last night.”

Definitely Ceren then. Interesting. Rana looked inside the apartment then, shaking her head.

“I’m just trying to make sure he’s alright Neve.”

“If I see him I’ll let him know.” She smiled.

The Templar sighed, rubbing at her eyes. Neve relented.

“You should get some rest yourself.”

Rana’s mouth quirked. “Ever take your own advice? You’re dead on your feet.”

A yawn was starting to threaten. Neve shrugged instead.

“My day’s just beginning I fear. No rest for the wicked.”

The other woman frowned, then turned away. “Watch yourself. I don’t like this.”

“Take care Rana.”

Neve closed the door, leaning back against it and closing her eyes. Rana was good people. She gave herself a moment to breathe, then two. Then-

“It’s safe to come out now.”

She should have known better. She went to her bedroom, and when she still heard nothing she sighed and opened the door, already certain of what she’d find. The window was open, her curtains blowing in the wind bringing another bout of rain. Ceren was gone.

Chapter Text

He needed help and it was pissing him off. Ashur had given him a list of names for this exact situation, but he'd been hoping he wouldn't need them so soon. Only there was no them. Only her. The moment he saw her name he knew there was no one else. He reached her door at last, head spinning. Blood leaked over his hand as he tried to keep up the pressure. Hesitating. His arm was leaden as he raised it, knocking with the strength he had left.

His heart pounded in his ears as he waited, aware each beat was precious and deadly and he had to get the bleeding under control and-

"Ceren?"

Did she know, what a relief it was to hear her voice? He lost his fight with his body and fell straight into her arms.

“Neve Gallus.” Even his tongue felt thick and unwieldy. “I-I didn’t know where else to go.”

You're the only one in the whole city I think I can trust sorry I didn't write and when did one of your legs turn into a snake? He wasn't sure how he got to the floor from there. Didn't really care. His eyelids started to droop as she fussed with his robes, and he almost told her just leave him there so he could sleep.

“Don’t you dare go to sleep. Talk to me. What happened?”

He growled at her. Or tried. She ignored him and he remembered why he liked her.

"Venatori." He spat with disgust.

Neve's eyes narrowed. "For you?"

He clammed up, glaring instead. She sounded almost scared when she saw his wounds.

"You need a proper healer."

"No." He snapped at her in his panic, reaching for her wrist. The heavy sleep he'd been so eager to give into faded like it had never been.

He still had work to do.

"Ceren you-"

"They'll be looking for me."

He saw the gears in that brilliant mind turning and knew he was in trouble.

"You're Ashur's man. You're working for the Shadows."

Ceren sighed and stared up at her ceiling. A raw wood beam, splintering with age, knowing he had to get moving and away from her. She was too clever by half.

"I shouldn't have come here. I've put you in danger."

That made her angry. "Ashur gave you my name for a reason."

He tried to sit up. He did. "I'll go-"

It hurt. Bad. His skin was on fire where the knife had split him and his head swam. She grabbed his shoulder.

"Enough. You're staying. But you need a healer."

Fine. She wanted to do this? "Just get me a needle and thread. I can do it. You don’t need to draw more attention to yourself."

She was covered in his blood. So was the floor. It would stain.

"You can't-" He caught the worry and wondered how she could care so much. How did she stand it?

He forced a smile. "Trust me. I can."

It was a trial. As many times as Ceren had had to do this, it didn't get easier. Even cleaning the wound hurt. His hands shook and sweat beaded his brow and his head was pounding. Neve was pretending she was wasn't watching his every move, fiddling with everything in the room but never looking away. He caught her eye.

"It's alright Neve Gallus. I'm alright."

"Ceren why did you come to me? He gave you other names I'm sure."

He bound the wound, not sure how to answer. Because she was Neve Gallus. With the worst of it done his fingers itched for a cigarette, his left behind in the chantry when he'd run. He winked at her.

"Do you still smoke?"

She stared at him like he'd grown a second head. He scrambled to his feet, aching everywhere and feeling the stitches pull. His clothes were beyond repair.

"Go get changed. I'll clean up the blood."

She sounded so tired. He hated it. She handed him some clothes and he caught her eye again.

"Thank you."

She softened, smiling just a bit, circles under her eyes. He wanted to know so much about what her life had been like since he'd left and she'd turned herself into a symbol. But dawn was well on it's way and the longer he lingered the more likely it was he would be found here. He finished changing, cleaned up as much of his blood as he could and went to the window. He hesitated, then he heard the voice at the door, heart racing as he listened. That decided him. Whoever it was was looking for him and Neve was better off if he wasn't there to be asked after.

Ceren climbed out, limbs clumsy and head clouded, but when he hit the ground he started running.