Chapter 1: Treviso
Chapter Text
"So, Rook. Rook," Neve said, tasting her name. "Is that the nickname the Crows gave you? Because it's weird if Rook is like a bird, you know."
A clear, delicate woman's laugh rang out beside her.
"I'm pretty sure her nickname was Talon's Favorite," Teia smiled. She placed a tray of coffee on the table like a welcoming hostess. A fragrant aroma Rook had almost forgotten filled the small attic room.
"Yeah," she mumbled sheepishly. "Everyone found that funny."
"Haven't you always gotten the easiest and most generous contracts?"
"That's what I'm talking about."
Rook took the cup first. She hated the subject of contracts even more than she hated coffee, and she hoped that her sullen face would protect her from further questions. Rook had not yet become a master and could not act on her own. Her mentor, Cesare, was supposed to give her assignments. But by an unbelievable, amazing coincidence, there was always a job for Rook directly from the Fifth Talon. And it was an offensively easy job. Almost with a red carpet rolled out to the target. For the other Crows, such a privilege was cause for endless mockery, which annoyed Rook and did not bother Talon at all. Viago kept sending her on primitive tasks that even a fledgling could handle. What a punishment.
"Maker," Teia threw up her hands indignantly, seeing Rook sniffing. "This is a nut liqueur!"
"I know! It just smells delicious. That's all."
"If someone had poisoned you in the Cantori territory, Vi would have done the same thing to everyone here, including me," the Seventh Talon said as she took a comfortable chair next to her. "And we've settled in so well here."
At the sound of familiar footsteps, Rook tensed.
"The smell of the nut perfectly masks the poisons of the wyvern's secretions. And I trust you, Teia, but what is the path that the drinks take from the kitchen? How many servants change before it reaches the guest?"
When he entered, Rook jumped to her feet. She barely managed to let go of the cup.
"Viago."
"Also," he added when he saw her awkward gesture of deference, "Iliana... Rook hates coffee."
Everything inside her twisted into a tight, anxious knot, and Rook forced herself to sit down. Viago's impenetrable blue eyes continued to follow every move she made. It was foolish to have any hope that he would spare her feelings and be absent from the informal meeting. For those who disappointed him, Talon was merciless.
And yet... after a year, it was nice to see his face again.
"House de Riva consists of impossible paranoiacs." Teia complained to Rook's companions. Neve and Harding were still getting used to the Crow's nest under the casino roof, so they had little interaction with the locals. "That's why I made and brought the coffee myself. Otherwise we'd be sitting here until morning while Vi swirls it around in a dozen test tubes."
"Oh, yes," Lace, who had been sitting modestly, brightened up. One could only imagine how she felt in the company of assassins. Even if they were somewhat familiar. "There is something about her sometimes-"
"That's not true!" Rook protested.
"But it's useful," she reassured. "You are very cautious and prudent, Rook. I feel safe with you."
"Check if a double replaced her on the road," Viago chuckled. "Because it was definitely someone else who left Antiva."
He remained standing, leaning on his cane. He did not touch the cup prepared for him. Whether Viago trusted or not, old habits did not die. An immaculately styled moustache and goatee, an elegant suit updated according to metropolitan fashion. But in fact it was still the same Viago, secretive, attentive, and skillfully in control of his inner storm.
"It's okay, this Rook suits us just fine," Neve said, keeping up the conversation. "If the real one is basking in the sun on the shores of... No, I think I've spent too much time with these newspaper clippings."
The exchange of barbs turned into a more serious discussion. After Rook briefly explained the reason for their visit - to meet with the Dellamorte family - Teia and Viago described the grim situation in Treviso. When Rook left the city, the Antaam were still facing resistance. Now Treviso seemed accustomed to living under the iron heel of the Qunari. The harbors, markets, and bakeries went about their business as usual, while the Crows retreated into the shadows, carefully planning each new attack.
Viago was hardly involved in the conversation. Rook knew that squint very well. He was looking for something to pick at.
"So you didn't kill Solas?"
She pressed her lips together. A ruthless blow, considering he was an elven god.
"Not yet."
"Don't disgrace the guild. The Crows always do what they promise."
"Well, and you promised to marry me, or does that not count?"
He wasn't the only one who knew how to be ruthless.
Viago's impassive expression did not leave him, but scarlet spots clearly appeared on his olive skin.
"I promised to think about it," the shadow of feigned insolence was no less noticeable. "And only because I didn't want to poison the last days before your probable death."
"Which-"
"I had my doubts before, but now I'm sure you're a true Antivan, Vi," Teia laughed, seeing the mood in the room take on the shades of an impending knife fight. "A master of broken promises and broken girls' hearts."
Rook could only exhale. She wasn't surprised. Viago would not let this story leave the house. If he told Andarateia, then...
Again.
"Do you know how I became a full-fledged Crow?" Rook changed the subject.
"Flavius Carvelli," Teia remembered. "A beautiful, tragic wedding, just the way I like it."
"The thing is, she took possession of the contract without permission," Viago noted. "Rook was supposed to be an observer at the wedding, and she shouldn't have interfered."
"Carrying on a dead Crow's work is not interference," Rook defended herself. "I was concerned about the honor of the house. I had the chance to finish the job here and now, instead of waiting for instructions or another master. Everything would have been delayed until the end of the honeymoon. If Carvelli hadn't fled the country altogether."
"And yet it was reckless."
"So you killed him?" Neve asked with friendly interest. She saw that Rook was beginning to get irritated.
"Finished him off right at the banquet. Before the guests discovered the groom dead at the table, they had been celebrating for an hour. Viago had been so angry that he could have squeezed the poison out of himself. But he had no choice but to acknowledge my success.
It would be better to say that if Viago could kill with his gaze, she would have died in the hall where the initiation took place. Two blue pieces of ice pierced her like stilettos as she swore allegiance to him and his house. Rook didn't say it, but it hurt her to see that Viago had no pride in her. He wasn't happy that she had become a Crow. She respected him and wanted his approval. Then Cesare tried to calm her down - Talon hates initiating new Crows. They drank wine from the same goblet. A symbol of mutual trust. A symbol of family. And also a perfect opportunity for poisoning.
And all three knew perfectly well that the problem was rooted deeper than an oak tree.
"I was angry because you broke the rules," Viago said, no longer hiding his resentment. "But I accepted you. You became a Crow."
Neve made another attempt to smooth things over.
"Minus the murder, it's very exciting-"
"Despite. All. Your. Efforts," Rook said in separate words, not letting her finish.
The cane creaked under his fingers. Viago looked like a magic ball about to explode.
In a matter of seconds.
"I only wished the best for you, Iliana!"
Rook, as if she had been waiting for this moment, flew out of her chair in fury.
"You reduced me to a servant, forced me to gather gossip when you saw I was capable of more!"
"For your own good!"
"Well, I didn't ask for it. Or was it your guilt that spoke?"
"Sciocca! You still don't understand anything!"
"Because you still haven't explained anything! If you weren't satisfied with how I handled Genetti, then have the courage to tell it to my face! Oh, wait. You never had it!"
Viago grimaced as if he had been slapped. But he was the first to realize that this was no time or place to argue. Talon left in a hurry, without answering the words that had been thrown at him.
Rook turned pale with embarrassment as she remembered there were other people in the room. Many people.
And he was the Guildmaster of her house. A Talon. She should have thought about the internal hierarchy for a moment.
Rook cleared her throat, hoarse from shouting, but she didn't move. She froze in front of the empty space where Viago had just been.
"Oh my," Neve broke the ringing silence. "And I thought 'Antivan passions' was an exaggeration for romance novels. Too bad Bellara isn't here. She would have liked it."
"'They held out long enough," Teia lifted the corner of her mouth, but her smile was not as charming as usual. "Don't worry, the meeting with Dellamorte will happen. I'll talk to Vi when he's calmed down."
Rook flew out of the room in the opposite direction of Viago, not willing to explain herself to anyone.
The nights in Treviso seemed colder than she remembered, or perhaps it was the steel of the Antaam that made the air unnaturally cold. Sometimes Rook wondered if the Crows would have been able to drive the Qunari from the city if she hadn't ruined the operation with her actions. Varric said no. Talons had no chance, and to ease their consciences, they needed a scapegoat. And then Rook showed up.
The rooftop exits in Cantori's Diamond were equipped for permanent use, so Rook did not enjoy the solitude for long. But this time the company promised to be pleasant. Harding approached Rook, walking carefully along the edge.
"What a... little... fence," the dwarf hissed. The brass ledge clanked against the buckle of her boot.
Rook held out her hand willingly and helped her to sit up. Harding gazed in fascination at the view from the roof. And then she asked.
"Shouldn't you have talked to him?"
"To hell with them both," Rook breathed angrily. "Let her comfort poor Viago. She's good at it."
"Some would even say too good at it."
"It was stupid," Rook admitted reluctantly. "Sorry about the scene."
"Well, it didn't affect me," Harding waved it off. "True, it was the first time I saw you so... well, Antivan. Just like Josie when she got letters from Orlais. Not an easy story, huh?"
"To say the least."
Lace did not ask out of idle curiosity, but out of a sincere concern for those she cared about. She didn't like to pry out gossip and juicy stories, so it was never difficult to share anything with her. In fact, Rook would say that she was more honest with Lace than with her inner voice. The inner voice was demanding and cruel, and Lace was gentle and understanding.
"We had a big fight, and I left with Varric and you," Rook explained. "Not because of the Antaam. No, that was the reason, but-"
She rested her head tiredly on her knees. It was easy to forget the mess she had left behind.
"Viago always clipped my wings, never letting me fly higher than he thought necessary. The harder I tried, the more resistance I met. Not what you expect from a man you've been hopelessly in love with for years, right?"
"Ro-o-o-k."
"Don't."
"Viago signed a contract with Varric," Harding reminded her persistently. "So you wouldn't be considered a defector, he appointed you executor."
"And he kicked me out."
"What options did he have?"
Beat her to death with his fancy cane, as Caterina was rumored to have done more than once. More merciful than "take those bloody dwarves and get out of here".
"Probably the whole point is that we never came to an understanding," Rook leaned in the direction of Harding's thoughts with a creak. "Things were always... strange between us. Then I screwed up an assignment, and he thought it was his fault. And then he tried to atone for a long time, protecting me from trouble. But I didn't want him to. And with each "act of initiative," I tried to make him understand that I don't need to be kept in a cage. I am a Crow. Crows need freedom. And because Viago wanted to take it away again after the attack on the convoy, I told him all sorts of things, like today."
"Rook."
"Because he refused to see that I was one of his best assassins."
"Rook."
"Because he never made it clear if he felt anything for me."
"Rook."
"Because I couldn't confess either."
Lace should have been a healer, not a scout. Such a talent for opening a soul with a single word, like an untreated abscess.
"That's it," Harding patted her friend's shoulder comfortingly. "It wasn't difficult, was it?"
"On the contrary, everything's gotten even more difficult than it was a minute ago." Rook lay down on the cool tiles with a groan. "Okay, I just have to survive tomorrow."
"What about-"
"No. Don't offer to talk. It doesn't work in Antiva. I have two daggers, and he has three bottles of acid under his cloak."
"Well..." Harding touched the tip of her nose thoughtfully. "Then I suggest we kidnap him, tie him to a chair, and when Viago comes to terms with the situation, you will explain everything to him."
"Are you serious?"
"Of course not! Rook!" Lace looked like she was going to slap her in response to the all-too-familiar "difficult, given the circumstances, but generally doable" expression. "Tomorrow we leave Treviso, and this terrible situation will haunt you the whole time. Now we have two gods instead of one, and you must be even more focused, even more committed. You're our leader. An example to the rest, and-"
"In the morning, okay? Before the meeting with Dellamorte."
"I'll hold you to that."
The hasty promise was a step forward, but a very small one. Rook, not without reason, believed that it was better to fight a dragon than to meet Viago again.
But Lace was right. This worried Rook more than the situation allowed. Varric had hired the disgraced Crow not out of gratitude for his rescue from Qunari captivity, but because he needed someone with her skills. A reliable, resourceful, and fearless second in command to help him track down the whole god. And that's why Rook was doubly ashamed. Next to Viago, she was reduced to a vulnerable blob of exposed nerves, incapable of thinking clearly.
"I would have told him everything," Rook continued aloud. "But he was so angry, so disappointed, that-"
"You were afraid you wouldn't hear what you wanted to hear."
"Oh, Harding. Anyway, I would have heard that it does not work with the Crows. A Crow must keep their heart empty. Trust no one and spare no one. The question was how crudely it would be delivered."
"Wait. You seem to be missing the part about... marriage. Did I get that right?"
"Don't make me laugh!" Rook snorted. "An old joke, but it still works well to calm him down. It's good for Viago. Otherwise he gets too cocky."
"But where did it come from?"
Try as she might, Rook couldn't keep a nostalgic smile from her face.
"Ah. It all started when he poisoned me once."
Chapter 2: Signorina Montini
Chapter Text
Little Iliana Montini was ten years old when she joined the de Riva family.
Another orphaned one the Crows liked to collect. Another murder-for-hire, with the mother's bloody handprints staining the expensive children's room wallpaper. Mercenaries hired by the owner of a competing merchant company slaughtered all the Montini. Iliana, as in Bellara's favorite Tevinter novels, managed to hide in a closet. She could have sworn that one of the thugs had noticed her through the beautiful painted glass doors, but…
He walked by.
It was a mistake that cost his employer his life.
Because her father said that life is hard for little girls in this cruel world.
Little girls should have a cold heart, a steady hand and a sharp dagger.
Iliana had it all.
In a house full of corpses she spent the night. Then Iliana changed her dress by herself and went to the market. She overheard it recently. Her father talking about a possible preemptive strike. And she had found the man he had mentioned. The Orzammar steel merchant was surprised when she told him: “Signorina Montini wishes to meet with the Crows and will be waiting at home.”
He could laugh and forget the strange visit.
The next night, a Crow came.
The only place free of destruction, corpses, and the sickening smell of blood was the kitchen. After sunset, Iliana, who had not found the courage to sleep, lit a candle. She opened the candied fruit and cooked something that looked like cocoa. The beans turned out to be coffee beans. She had to add half a cup of stale milk to remove the bitterness. But it wasn't the poor charcoal roasting that caused it.
In such a situation, Cesare de Riva found Iliana Montini. Later he admitted more than once that the picture amazed him. Coming from an assassin in his fifties, this was a serious compliment.
Iliana placed a box of her mother's jewelry in front of the guest. She said that she knew the name. That she wanted to sign a contract for this man and his entire family. Cesare idly rummaged through the jewels and replied (Maker, she really thought he was estimating their value!) that it wasn't enough for an entire family. While Iliana was desperately trying to remember if there was anything of value left at home, Cesare offered to make an exchange. He would accept the contract, but Iliana would enter his service. She will help him get rid of bad people. And most of all, she will have a family again.
Cesare could have deceived her, but soon the mass murder at Prizzi's Villa was talked about in every tavern of Antiva City.
This is how Iliana learned that Crows do not break contracts.
Cesare proved to be a demanding and even cruel mentor, despite his outward mischievous charm. Training sessions often ended with broken bones and beatings from angry citizens, on whom Iliana practiced stealing. Cesare taught her how to blend into a crowd and attract attention, stealth, lockpicking, and the use of bladed weapons. She was lost in her feelings for him, his fatherly care balanced by the ruthlessness of a master assassin.
A few years later, Cesare took Iliana to Salle and introduced her to the head of the house.
More than the heavy, grumpy old man Ottavio de Riva, she remembered the Crow that stood at the Guildmaster's right hand. He seemed terribly grown up to Iliana, although she later calculated that he was well under thirty. Handsome in his own way, thin, well dressed, with light eyes unusual for an Antivan... and rather arrogant. She didn't like him. With his gaze, Ottavio's protégé seemed to draw a wide gulf between himself and the others. Iliana immediately thought that he was of high birth, because her father used to say about people like him: "They think they are somehow better than us."
But once they left Ottavio's company, Crow changed. He and Cesare embraced. Iliana also got a little attention and a polite smile. It made her heart melt a little. She decided to give him a chance to correct the first impression.
"This is Iliana." Cesare shook his apprentice's shoulders vigorously, as if he were showing off a hunting trophy. "The very same Iliana. And this is Viago, our incomparable poisoner. It was he who made the poison for the Prizzi family. What did you name it, boy?"
Viago gritted his teeth.
"Signorina's Gratitude. Based on Scarlet Feast, but I changed the composition considerably. Prizzi had extremely varied eating habits.
"He likes to give fancy names," Cesare explained, laughing. "And he liked your story, I must say."
"How can I leave Prizzi without gratitude for sparing my life, signor Cesare?"
There were many other fledglings among the guests, all in the same blissful ignorance. The lavish feast and the glittering golden halls of the mansion were nothing more than a carrot dangled in front of the young disciples. A reminder of the reward awaiting those who became Crow.
The reward was a very distant prospect, as it turned out.
And for most, unreachable.
Cesare was unusually kind to her that night. But he did not tell her that it would be their last meeting for five long years. A training camp far outside Salle was Iliana's new home in the morning. There the real training took place, accompanied by sudden and secret trips to different cities of Antiva. Pain, hunger, and blood drove weakness and pity from Iliana. Her spirit was strengthened by the humiliation she suffered at the hands of others - street boys and girls who learned of her low-born but wealthy origins. At first, Iliana hated Cesare. But she soon realized that without his lessons, without his cunning, she wouldn't have lasted a week here. There were no more children here. Only future assassins who had stained their hands with the blood of their first victims and each other.
Little girls should have a cold heart, a steady hand and a sharp dagger.
Iliana grew up, but she still had all that.
Many things had changed in Salle during her absence. Ottavio had been poisoned by one of his trusted advisors. The burden of Guildmaster had fallen on Viago's shoulders. No one told the younger member about the intrigues of the house, but Iliana once heard that Viago had to brutally execute a friend who tried to seize power and blame it on the famous master of poisons. Crows do not forgive treachery. Cesare became a grandmaster and joined Viago's inner circle. He gave up his dream of retiring. Soon, backed by the Dellamorte family, Viago rose to become the Fifth Talon, one of the eight leaders of the Antivan Crows.
Viago has changed as well. He wore an invisible armor. Always gloves, high collars and an expensive cane that cannot weaken his stance for a moment. Gone were the laughs and carefree conversations with Cesare. It was a different man. And yet, during one of the meetings, Iliana got some of his attention again.
"So signorina Montini has grown wings after all."
"Not Montini," she corrected Talon sternly. "Not anymore."
And - a polite (or not anymore?) smile that melted not only the heart, but also the rest of Iliana.
"Your Gratitude has become popular. I'm glad you're with us now."
Perhaps Iliana imagined too much at the time, but for the young assassin, the poison named after her was the most romantic thing in the world. She should have thought about how extensive Viago de Riva's collection was. How many muses served as inspiration for his murderous masterpieces. But Iliana had been taught for years to set a goal and achieve it at all costs. She chose the Fifth Talon.
If only she knew how she was going to get all of his attention in the future...
She would rather take some seduction lessons from someone in the guild.