Rough Around the Edges (Rookwood x Reader)

8- Ritual

The tent went silent as Rookwood barged in; his face livid.

"BIGGINS!" He screamed.

Biggins turned around wide eyed.

"Rookwood?! I thought you were-"

"You thought wrong."

He stomped over to him and grabbed him by the collar.

"What did I BLOODY tell you, and you didn't listen?! Tell me why I shouldn't KILL you right now!"

"W-wait!" He started. "The runes! We learned more about the runes!"

"I DON'T CARE ABOUT-"

"Blood! The runes react to blood!"

Rookwood paused at the news.

"...What? How do you know that?"

"When we came back to find you, we found a rune covered in blood and it was glowing. We assumed it was yours when we couldn't find you..."

Memories of last night flashed through Rookwoods' eyes but he continued to hold onto Biggins as they talked.

"So what about the blood?! You've already proven that you can not control this magic and I highly doubt anyone else can."

"We could try again. Maybe blood is the key. Maybe sacrifices like the old days-"

"Are you listening to yourself? Sacrifices?!"

Rookwood shoved Biggins against the wall and unleashed his wand. The tip crackled as he pointed it at him; Biggins fell to the ground and looked up in fear.

"Rookwood!"

Ada yelled from the entrance of the tent. The scowl on his face softened but his wand still pointed at Biggins. He took a deep breath before speaking again.

"What is the point of your power if you are surrounded by death?"

He lowered his wand and swiftly walked out of the tent.

Ada followed a few steps behind in silence until he stopped.

"What do you want, Ada?"

"Your sleeve, there's blood on it. Are you hurt?"

Rookwood glanced down at the sleeve poking out of his coat; he waves his wand and the stain disappeared. He waves his wand again to erase any other marks on his shirt.

"It's not my blood."

"Then whose is it?"

He stayed silent after his confession.

"... there's been talk around the camp you know, all of them. You need to be careful or-"

"Or what? They'll attempt a coup? I'd like to see them try."

"You can't pretend forever, Victor."

"No one is pretending."

"You're tired."

"I'm always tired. Just leave me be."

Rookwood continued to walk on and found his way to his own tent. Ada stood where she was and watched him disappear- her lips pursed and her brows furrowed.

"This is not the time." She said out loud.

Rookwood found his way to a chair and collapsed into it. He buried his face into his hands before taking off his hat and screaming into the room. His elbows rested on his knees as he stared at the floor- one of his hands laced through his hair and he closed his eyes in an attempt to calm down.