raikiriwolfwrites

[raikiriwolfwrites]

Behind Closed Doors

Months of building up their relationship and Lucanis' desperation for Rook reaches a breaking point. Rook is only too happy to take care of him. Rook and Lucanis’ first time, takes place in the fade to black from the final chapter of Bitterness.

It’s just 5k of smut guys

Masc non-binary Rook x Lucanis

Read on AO3

The pantry door slams shut under the weight of Rook’s body pressed against it held up against it by a combination of hands gripping tightly to muscled thighs that clench tightly around Lucanis’ waist, and his weight pressing into Rook as they devour each other’s mouths. Rook buries a hand in Lucanis’s silky tresses while the other winds over his shoulder, clutching at taut back muscles, pulling him impossibly closer. Time seems to stop as they lose themselves in the taste of each other, until the need for air finally overcomes the desire to leave no space between them. They separate enough to draw in ragged breaths, panting into the shared space between their lips. 

Lucanis releases his death grip on Rook’s thighs, questing hands roving up their sides. Through the silky shirt their body is solid and warm, chest heaving with desperate breaths. The pleasing give of a soft layer of fat over dense muscles a feast for his eager hands. Pressing his forehead to Rook’s he tries to form words through his lust drunk haze. Adoration shines in his gaze as he meets Rook’s eyes, pupils blown wide with desire. 

“I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want you.” 

He rasps between sweet presses of lips, unable to stray from Rook’s plush mouth for long. The hand in Lucanis’ hair sweeps down to cradle his face. Rook unlocks their ankles from behind him, finding their feet and standing up to their full height again. 

The tantalising V of skin exposed by Rook’s shirt, now directly in his line of sight, is a target too tempting to resist. Lucanis closes the distance, pressing soft kisses from the hollow of their throat down to nip gently at the swell of their pecs, his beard scratches over a thinly veiled nipple making Rook’s breath hitch in their throat. Rook’s habit of wearing shirts indecently unbuttoned a torment, but now a blessing; easy access for his hungry exploration, lips worshipping the exposed skin with kisses and nips. His hands move to tease gently over stiff buds; the heat of Rook’s skin like a brand as he toys with the pebbled flesh pushing through the thin, silky fabric. Rook’s head thunks back against the door with a throaty groan. They nudge a thigh between Lucanis’ legs to grind against the hardness trapped there in retaliation. He shudders against Rook, forehead resting on their collarbone as he tries to collect himself, harsh breaths leaving damp heat on the fabric over Rook’s heart.

Bringing both hands up to cradle Lucanis’ face they tilt it back up towards them so they can press a brief, promise filled, kiss to his lips. Drawing back, they drag their hands down to his chest, giving it a gentle push. “I need you,” a swift kiss pressed to reddened lips, “in our bed,” another kiss as they start walking Lucanis backwards towards their room, “so I can appreciate you properly.”

Rook sees the flush go down Lucanis’ neck, wants to chase it down into his furred chest with their tongue and teeth. At the heated look, Lucanis turns swiftly on his heel, as nimble as ever despite the bulge tenting the front of his trousers, as he grabs one of Rook’s hands from his chest tightly in his own, pulling them the last few steps towards the door to their private sanctuary. Safely inside, Rook continues into the room as Lucanis closes the door and clicks the lock into place. 

Rook stands at the foot of the bed drinking in the sight of Lucanis, flushed and rumpled, as he prowls the last few feet of space between them. Lucanis had admitted to them, as they nestled close beneath the blankets on the verge of sleep one night, that people found him too intense; they would turn away nervously once he met their gaze. Rook couldn’t imagine ever feeling anything less than a thrill down their spine at having his undivided attention. His absolute focus once he settles on a task, an admirable quality normally, turned on them, had them unable to look away, heat licking away at their insides from the intensity.

His fingers go instantly to the last few buttons of Rook’s shirt. The silk pooling on the floor as it’s swiftly discarded. Calloused fingers map a well travelled path down the branching lightning scars across Rook’s chest before coming to rest at the waistband of snug leather trousers. Made all the more snug by the insistent hardness straining at the front lacings. A teasing press to the front with his palm elicits a breathless and pleading, “Lucanis.” and he takes pity, releasing the ties and sliding the supple leather downwards. A gentle nudge has Rook sitting back on the edge of the bed. They land heavily on the soft bedding, too wound up to control their descent. Lucanis follows, kneeling between their legs to slip off their boots and peel the leather the rest of the way off. His fingers leave trails of fire across their skin as he slowly teases the material off their legs.

The sight of Lucanis: eyes bright, face flushed, kneeling between their thighs with a look of barely restrained hunger, is devastating and has them twitching in their small clothes. He’s beautiful. They can’t help but think that Caterina is right that Dellamortes shouldn’t kneel, Rook would certainly never get anything done, and this is a sight they want to hoard jealously.

One hand comes to rest on the side of Lucanis’ face, fingers scratching gently at his beard; he leans into the touch, turning his face to press a kiss to the palm. Rook’s other hand starts to pick at the cravat at his neck. Pulling it free they drop it with the rest of the strewn clothes and start work on the buttons of his shirt. 

They only make it through a couple before Lucanis pulls their hand away and presses it into the sheets beside them. Shuffling closer he shoulders Rook’s thighs further apart, making a comfortable space for himself between them. In the back of his mind he thanks the Fade for the thick rug at the foot of the bed cushioning his knees as he makes himself at home between muscled thighs.

Rook sees a glint of purple shimmering in Lucanis’ eyes as he presses his face into the clothed crease of their thigh, taking a deep inhale as he nuzzles into the soft skin there. The prickle of beard hair teases their sensitive cock through the thin fabric separating them, drawing out a strangled groan. Lucanis eases back enough to look up shyly at Rook through his lashes.

“I’ve never done this before, but I want to learn everything with you, know all of you. If you’ll let me.” 

The hand not pinning Rook’s traces along the edge of their small clothes, seeking permission. Rook is momentarily speechless, gazing in wonder down at the handsome man supplicating himself before them. They breathe Lucanis’ name, a reverent sigh. A thumb comes up to brush his cheek.

“Luca…my body, my heart, my soul, they are yours to do with as you please, for as long as you’ll have me.” 

The hand on his cheek briefly stops his head from lowering back down and he meets Rook’s eyes questioningly. 

“You know you don’t have to do anything you aren’t comfortable with, just having you with me is all I could ever need.” Rook promises softly, a curling warmth spreads through his chest at the care and consideration Rook shows him.

“I have never known comfort like that which I get from being with you.” 

Spite purrs his agreement in his head as he starts to peel the waistband of their underwear down. “I said I wanted to know all of you,” he mouths at the shape of Rook’s cock through the fabric, “and I meant it.” A sharp tug and they spring free from the final confining piece of cloth, the flash of a dagger appears from inside Lucanis’ boot so he can banish the offending fabric without having to move from his new favourite place between Rook’s thighs.

Any noise of complaint was swiftly drowned out by the moan ripped from their throat as Lucanis wraps a hand around their length and laves an experimental tongue over the slit, cleaning up the precome leaking profusely from the tip. Moaning softly at the taste, he continues lapping up the wetness that had gathered there from the earlier teasing.

Lucanis feels the familiar tickle of Rook accessing the Fade from above him and glances up to see a jar of oil summoned into their waiting palm. He eagerly accepts the offered jar to slick up his hand before returning it to pump languidly at Rook’s length, taking the head fully into his mouth. He had read enough to know that going too far, too fast, was a bad idea. He hoped he would be able to get plenty of practice in the future to fix that, already insatiable from just a small taste of Rook, but for now he focused only on what he could comfortably fit in his mouth, hand eagerly attending to the rest.

His Crow training made reading marks and finding tells and weaknesses to exploit easy work, but he had never been so enthusiastic in putting it to use than in cataloguing all of Rook’s gasps, moans and twitches as he explored with his mouth and hand. Finding a sensitive spot on the underside he abused it relentlessly with his tongue and the rough press of a calloused palm on the upstroke; the keening whine and uncontrolled buck on their hips marked that as a strong success in Lucanis’ book. A separate section on his mental file of ‘Rook’ being formed to store all of this information safely away for later. 

He explores voraciously, lapping and suckling to find all the weak spots that made Rook senseless with pleasure, hand continually pumping at the base as he worked his mouth around the head, savouring every drop that leaked out onto his tongue.

The hand that had been pressing Rook’s to the bed had become a tangle of fingers, Rook grasping at his hand like a lifeline as the pleasure coiled tighter in their gut. Their other hand had gone from carding soothingly through his hair to a tighter grip as their pleasure built, the slight sting spurring him on. Hand pumping their length tightly, mouth occupied sucking and licking wherever it could reach, his eyes wandered up to see Rook’s abs quivering from the combined pleasure and strain of trying to stay upright. 

Lucanis’ jaw was starting to ache but he couldn’t help the pleased hum that escaped at how undone they looked. He intensifies the hum, vibrating deeper in his throat as he sees the spasm of Rook’s core in response, thighs tensing around his shoulders, their cock twitching against his tongue. The hand in his hair tugged, Rook’s voice ruined and breathless as they managed to scrape out a warning.

“Luca… I’m close.”

He resists the pull at his hair, continuing his ministrations with fierce determination, looking up at Rook’s face as it’s overcome with bliss, a sight he would cherish in his memories forever even as he plans to make it happen as often as possible. The musky tang of Rook’s spend spills across his tongue, his hand eases them through the aftershocks as he swallows and cleans up the remainder with gentle licks.

Rook finally collapses back onto the bed breathing harshly, muscles giving out as their body trembles through the aftershocks. Lucanis stands and absorbs the image before him. He had never seen a more gorgeous sight than Rook: sweaty skin shining bronze in the candlelight; an island of smooth, scarred perfection across the sea of their midnight sheets. But moving reminds him of the aching desire between his own legs, pushed to the back of his mind in the quest for Rook’s pleasure, but now making itself known again. Rook splayed out before him in such a perfect display made him grow impossibly harder in the confines of his trousers.

Pools of liquid amber met his molten chocolate gaze as he rakes appreciative eyes up the body laying prone before him. A sharp glint of mischief in them was his only warning before a foot hooks around the back of his knee, tipping him forward towards the bed. Strong hands catch him as he falls and an agile twist ends up with Lucanis on his back on the mattress, Rook kneeling over his hips looking smugly satisfied at the new arrangement. 

And Lucanis couldn’t say he minded; a gloriously naked Rook, limned with golden candlelight, looming over him, was a delightful position to be in. The only improvement would be if he could feel all that warm skin without the barrier of his own clothes between them.

Rook seemed to be on the same page, hands already on their way to undo the buttons on his waistcoat as they press their weight down against his clothed crotch teasingly. His hands petted and mapped their way from thick, firm thighs, over to squeeze handfuls of their plush ass to aid in the smooth grind of their hips against him. The heavenly pressure forcing him to fight to keep his fluttering eyelids open, unwilling to miss a moment of this glorious being above him, now working at his shirt with single minded focus.

With a flex of his core he sits upright to finally press his lips to Rook’s once more, tongues twining as Rook pushes his shirt and waistcoat free from his shoulders, tossing the fabric bundle off the end of the bed as they lick the taste of their own seed out of Lucanis’ eager mouth. Chest to chest they slowly leaned down, pressing Lucanis firmly back into the mattress with the weight of their body blanketing him completely, languid kisses exchanged as hands explored. A hand tangles in Rook’s hair as they start to work their way down Lucanis’ body with their lips. Licking and nibbling down his neck, finding a nice spot at the juncture of neck and shoulder to worry at with their mouth. A press of teeth and sucking pressure, soothed with a flash of tongue. Lucanis’ purr of satisfaction was layered with Spite’s resonant rumble at the mark of possession. 

With one last teasing nip to the mark, Rook noses further down, finally able to nuzzle in his flushed chest, blanketed with soft hair. Their tongue and teeth abuse a pert nipple, a warm palm gently circling the other, fingers squeezing at the pleasantly firm muscle there. Lucanis squirms beneath them at the jolts of pleasure shooting from his nipples straight to his already painfully hard cock. His hand scratches at their scalp with blunt nails as a soft whine builds in his throat, applying gentle pressure, begging them wordlessly to move down to where he needs them most.

“Rook…please.” His voice is a breathless pant, eyes screwed shut. He makes a noise of complaint at the loss of warmth as Rook leans up on an elbow, eyes flying open to see Rook devouring his dishevelled state with his eyes, their gaze roving down to focus on the last barrier between them, and Lucanis splayed deliciously naked on their bed.

Their free hand pets down his treasure trail to dip under the waistband of his trousers. “I want to make you feel good.”

Lucanis nods fervently, granting the permission he knows Rook is seeking with a desperate roll of his hips into their hand. As Rook starts attacking the fastening of his trousers he works to kick his boots off his feet onto the floor, eagerly lifting his hips so Rook can slide his trousers and under clothes down in one swift tug. The cool air against his freed member is a sweet relief. Warm calloused hands grasp his bare thighs and haul him further up the sheets, slotting back against him to press together head to toe as their lips lock in a heated kiss once more. Lucanis didn’t notice one of Rook’s hands wandering to find the jar, but a slick hand works between their bodies to grasp his cock. He broke the kiss briefly to mewl in pleasure at the first touch of a blade calloused palm against his sensitive flesh. Breathing hard against his lips, Rook locks eyes with Lucanis.

“How do you want me?”

Rook’s rough voice sends shivers down his spine. Knowing he is the reason Rook is hoarse and debauched, hardness starting to stir again against his thigh, a dizzying high he never expected to feel. He had never needed anyone the way he needed Rook. He ached to be close to them in every way imaginable. Sure that if he didn’t feel Rook in and around him soon, his sanity would snap.

Hitching his thighs over Rook’s hips he pulls them flush, grinding down against their cock. Arms clutching tight around Rook’s broad back he leans up to nibble at their earlobe. Voice thick with desire he rasps, “Inside me,” directly into their ear and relishes the full body shiver he can feel wrack them where he’s wrapped so closely around them, their now fully hard cock twitching against his ass.

Rook’s forehead drops down to his shoulder with a groan that morphs into a breathless chuckle.

“If I hadn’t come already, I think that would have finished me.” 

Lucanis pulls Rook back up to his face to press his throaty chuckle against their lips.

“Maybe we can explore that next time.” 

Rook hums their agreement into his mouth. Their hand releases its firm pressure around his cock to reach for the oil again, slicking their fingers before trailing them down the underside, gently fondling his balls before lowering further. Brushing against sensitive skin before reaching Lucanis’ hole to swirl teasingly against it.

“I’d better get to work earning that next time then.”

Lucanis had never felt the need to try anything like this before. He knew the mechanics of course, but nothing could prepare him for the strange feeling of foreign fingers pressing against his most intimate places. Rook watched his face keenly for discomfort as they started to gently press a finger in. Lucanis found it easy to relax with Rook’s comforting warmth around him, pinned under their concentrated gaze, face soft with adoration. 

Though strange, the feeling wasn’t painful. They traded soft kisses as he grew accustomed to the intrusion. When Rook felt he was ready the hand retreated to get more oil before returning to press two digits in. The sense of fullness was odd, but the knowledge that it was Rook. The one who freed him from the Ossuary, treated him not as a weapon, or a demon, but a man, even when he himself wasn’t sure he was one anymore. Someone who saw into his fractured mind and broke all his shackles with a gentle hand to stand by his side. Taking his hand and pulling him to the surface once more. 

“You’re taking me so well.”

He gasps, flushing with heat at the praise and stifles a needy whine against Rook’s lips.

Spite was a content presence in his mind, distantly enjoying the pleasure Lucanis was feeling, but mostly basking in the closeness of Rook. Voice a soft rumble like a purring big cat. Rook. Good to us. Our Favourite.. There was nothing they could agree on more than that; but the depth of warmth, adoration, desire for Rook both body and soul, that had been coalescing in his heart finally shaped into one solid feeling. Less of a sudden realisation of feeling, than finally grasping the word for something that had been on the tip of his tongue for so long, but just out of reach. Breaking for air between kisses he meets Rook’s eyes and musters enough breath to utter.

“I love you, Rook.” 

There was a brief stunned look as they processed, but then Rook’s smile was radiant. As they shift closer, their fingers brush against Lucanis’ prostate dragging forth a guttural moan that Rook swallows hungrily, relishing the body shuddering in pleasure beneath them. Pulling back, their eyes are misty with emotion.

“I can’t even be mad about the world ending if it ended up with the love of my life in my arms.”

Lucanis melts into the kiss that follows, grinding down against the fingers still scissoring and teasing that spot inside him.

Eyes wet, he stares beseeching up at Rook. “Please, mi amor.” 

He bites back a whine of loss as Rook’s fingers retreat but the prodding of a third finger joining sates the newly awoken hunger inside him. He feels Rook’s hips gyrating softly, rocking their weeping member against the sheets in time with their fingers thrusting inside him.

Rook’s fingers crook deep inside Lucanis, bodies pressed impossibly close as they trade wet, gasping kisses. Every gentle brush against his prostate sends intense shivers down his spine, adding fuel to the raging pit of desire in his gut.

Rook leans back enough to meet Lucanis’ glistening brown eyes.

“Do you trust me?”

“With my life.” Lucanis pants back, pressing another chaste kiss before pulling back. “With my heart.” He twines his fingers with Rook’s free hand, pressing it firmly to his chest. They feel Lucanis’ heartbeat galloping against his ribs as he heaves for breath. “With all of me.”

A wicked glint appears in Rook’s eyes, Lucanis feels the pull of the Fade, Rook’s magic a gentle tingle across the back of his eyes. The next crook of Rook’s fingers against his prostate channels a precise jolt of lightning. A choked groan punches its way out of his throat. His muscles seize, spine arching up, Spite's wings bursting out beneath him in a flurry of ethereal feathers, pressing him closer into Rook’s solid body above, keeping him tethered as his eyes roll back into his head. He had never felt anything like it, pleasure so strong it teetered on the edge of too much. A keening sob escaping as his senses flood with divine bliss. 

One hand still clutches Rook’s to his heart, the other rakes burning trails down the warm expanse of their back with blunt nails. Rook’s body pressing down from above him is his only tether as he slowly regains some trace of higher thought. 

The fingers inside him are still gently crooking and stretching, graciously avoiding his prostate for now as he calms down. Rook eyes Lucanis’ cock between them, still rock hard and flushed, profusely leaking precome between their stomachs. 

Rook raises an impressed brow, Lucanis meets their gaze briefly and flushes, turning away. Sitting up more they allow their eyes to wander unashamedly. Beneath them Lucanis is a sinful fallen angel, beautifully debauched, haloed by the otherworldly purple glow of Spite’s wings fanned out beneath him. A brief flare of violet lights his eyes as he looks back at Rook through lowered lashes. 

“Spite helped hold me back.” He admitted, pulling Rook back towards him with a hand at the nape of their neck, wanting to keep them close. Hesitantly he continues, “I wanted…with you…inside.”

Rook grins devilishly against his lips. “But I am inside you.” Whispered cheekily with a pointed crook of fingers against that spot inside him once more. With a growl and a burst of strength, Lucanis leverages himself over Rook, rolling them onto their back to straddle them. Rook doesn’t resist, happily taking Lucanis’ weight, skillfully managing to maintain their fingers’ position deep inside Lucanis during the manoeuvre. 

Lucanis rocks against Rook’s hips, eyes heavy lidded as he works the fingers deeper before grinding forward over the hard length of Rook’s cock pressed between them.

The contact made Rook moan, Lucanis smirking down at them. “Are you sure there isn’t something else that would rather be inside me?” He reached down to tease the head of their cock with his thumb, Rook’s bucking hips stilled by Lucanis’ weight pinning them down.

The thump of their head back against the bedsheets exposes their neck and Lucanis is quick to take advantage of the opening. He burrows his face into the crook of their neck, cocks rubbing deliciously against each other as Lucanis presses them together from neck to hip, mouth biting a twin to the mark left by Rook earlier.

“Luca, please.” Rook tugs at Lucanis’ hair as his other hand slowly draws out of his hole, fingertips dipping teasingly in and out of the rim before pulling away completely to blindly reach for the oil once more. Lucanis obliges, sitting up on his knees, shuffling forward to hover over Rook’s lower stomach. His hands find purchase on their chest, thumbing across the hard peaks of their nipples as he kneads the soft flesh indulgently.

Lucanis feels Rook’s freshly oiled hand moving behind him to slick up their cock, breath catching and eyelids fluttering at the joint stimulation from Lucanis and their own hand. He feels the tip of their cock brush against his ass and shimmies back, kneeling up to aid Rook in guiding it into place. A few teasing circles around the rim prepare him before Rook steadies their hand. The blunt pressure is a strange sensation but as he lowers himself slightly his body gives and he feels the head slip past his oil slicked entrance. Lucanis watches Rook’s face as he sinks down slowly, sighing sweetly at the feeling of being filled once more after the brief emptiness of Rook’s fingers leaving. 

The rapturous torment of Lucanis’ heat slowly enveloping their length has their breath stuttering out harshly, muscles flexing as they try to refrain from burying themself firmly inside. They bring one knee up behind him to give Lucanis support as he works himself open on their cock, his eyes closed as he takes in the new sensations. He comes to a stop flush against their hips, rocking gently to accustom himself to the full pleasant stretch of Rook inside him. The shifting caused the head of Rook’s cock to brush his sweet spot, clenching down at the frisson of heat jolting up his spine. Twin guttural moans escape at their combined pleasure.

Rook wished they could have the image of Lucanis before them imprinted behind their eyelids. If they were a painter they would immortalise it in oils. He’s a vision: sweaty tanned skin glowing in the candlelight, beads of it glistening in his chest hair, reclined back against Rook’s thigh, head thrown back in pleasure, exposing his perfectly muscled body beautifully for his attentive audience of one. His cock stands proud, flushed and leaking against his stomach. Spectral wings still flitted behind him, framing him like a masterpiece.

“I love you.” Uttered in hushed awe brought Lucanis back to the present, eyes sliding open to see Rook shamelessly ogling him with an intoxicating blend of raw wonder and hunger. He rises up and eases himself down onto Rook’s cock a few more times before picking up the pace, enjoying the slick friction against his inner walls as he watches the pleasure play out across Rook’s face, and in the minute spasms of their core. He quickly decides that being inside him isn’t enough, he needs as much of Rook around him as possible, greedy for their touch. Reaching down he hauls Rook up flush against his chest, snaking arms around their back to lock them against him where they belong. 

Finally in reach once more, they wasted no time plundering each others’ mouths, a fierce need to be entwined in as many ways as possible until they couldn’t be told apart. Rook’s arms wind around Lucanis’ back in turn, hands alternating between caressing the semi-corporeal wings and clutching at the solid muscles of his back, feeling them shift beneath scarred skin as Lucanis starts moving against them once more.

Lips break apart, mouths mapping any skin they can reach as they find a rhythm. In their new position Lucanis can’t raise up as far but they quickly find a pattern of short gyrating grinds that leaves them both breathless. Rook rocking up into him with what little leverage they have. For Lucanis, the closeness is intoxicating, his wings wrap around the pair, ensconcing them in a private cocoon of intimacy. The position had the added benefit of his neglected cock receiving friction between their stomachs as they rocked and shifted against each other. Rook was delirious with pleasure, tight heat clenching around their cock, planes of sweat slicked skin sliding together, Lucanis’ delicious moans being breathed directly into their ear and returned in kind as their joint pleasure spirals higher and higher. Rook can feel the coil of heat in their gut nearing breaking point, and judging from the sticky wetness they could feel between their bodies, leaking profusely from Lucanis’ cock, and the increasingly ragged breathing against their throat, he was close too.

They nudged their forehead into Lucanis’, urging him to meet their eyes as they angle their hips to make sure their next solid thrust upwards nails his prostate. Lucanis’ eyes glaze over, face slack with rapturous bliss as he comes. His body twitches and shakes with the force of his orgasm, muscles spasming as he’s overwhelmed with pleasure, clutching Rook impossibly closer to himself like he’ll float away without something solid to ground him. 

The sight of Lucanis coming so thoroughly undone, body clenching vice tight around their cock was Rook’s own undoing. Their hips rut uncontrollably as they spill their own release inside Lucanis, his fluttering walls milking their cock and prolonging their pleasure. They both ride out their highs, clutching tightly to each other as they trade open mouthed kisses, more haggard gasping and sharing of breath than actual kissing, until they come down. Hands pet softly and reassuringly over every inch of skin they can reach as they came back to themselves slowly, breath evening out and kisses turning languid. 

Rook allows themself to finally topple over backwards, Lucanis still clutched firmly to their chest. Still slightly delirious from the high of their orgasm, they meet the mattress with a soft bounce that has them muffling a laugh into Lucanis’ hair. Lucanis huffs out breath as it jostles Rook’s softening cock inside him before they slip out but smiles indulgently and contentedly nestles into Rook’s chest, burying his head in the crook of their neck to breathe in their familiar scent. The comfort of it washes over him as the sweat starts to cool on his skin and his heart rate slows to normal once more. 

A tickle of magic and Rook shifting beneath him was his warning before a soft cloth starts wiping away the worst of the mess across their bodies. They’re gentle as they pass the cloth across his sensitive hole and Lucanis reluctantly peels himself away from Rook’s warm body so the drying spend between their stomachs could be perfunctorily cleaned away. Now mostly clean, Rook scooches up the bed to recline against the headboard, opening their arms; an invitation Lucanis is always happy to accept. He settles once more into his favourite spot: against Rook’s chest, heartbeat thrumming steadily beneath his ear, one of Rook’s hands coming up to card through his hair leaving him purring like a contented cat.

Rook feels more than hears the rumbled “Ours” against their chest before the now familiar feeling of Spite’s manifestation, a slightly cool brush of magical energy not dissimilar to when they access the Fade, settling like a blanket on the opposite side of their chest to Lucanis. Smiling down at the space they knew Spite would be, then back to Lucanis, they pressed a kiss onto the top of his head.

“Yours. Always.”

Relaxing into each other in a warm cocoon of contentment they start to doze. As their eyes close Rook nuzzles into Lucanis’ hair and breathes out a soft question.

“So have I earned that next time?”

[raikiriwolfwrites]

Bitterness, Sweetened by Your Lips

A secret revealed breaks a long built tension and Rook and Lucanis finally take their relationship further.

Light frottage, fade to black the smut will come later ;)

Enby RookxLucanis

Final Chapter!

Chapter 13 - A Familiar Taste

Read on AO3

Lucanis opens the door to the kitchen, greeted by the familiar scent of freshly brewed coffee. He takes a deep breath in, savouring the aroma of Andoral’s Breath. Rook leans against the table, mug in hand. Their face lights up, a smile creasing their eyes as they spot him. The only thing that warms Lucanis more than the sight of Rook relaxed and happy, is seeing his favourite mug resting beside them on the table, steam gently wafting from it welcomingly. Spite is already leaning against Rook, inhaling their scent contentedly. Rook feels the faint shiver of his presence next to them, a soft “Hello Spite.” murmured with a smile into the space. Spite practically purrs under the attention, a barely audible Rook rumbles out of him as his spectral form nuzzles into Rook’s side. And Lucanis can’t blame him, if he could, he would stay wrapped around them too.

“You made me coffee?” Lucanis’ voice a low rasp as he closes the distance between them.

“Well I have it on good authority that the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, is it working?” Rook smirks softly down at Lucanis through lowered lashes, mirth and affection shining in their eyes. He bypasses the coffee and slips straight into Rook’s space. They slide their feet apart at his approach, resting more securely against the table to allow him enough space to settle between their legs. Lucanis’ hands home in, one cradling Rook’s waist, the other slipping into the opening of their shirt to rest on the skin of their chest, seeking the comforting heartbeat beneath.

Rook. Ours. Spite mutters, blanketing their back, encompassing Rook between them. Lucanis hums in agreement as he presses forward, bodies still separated by Rook’s mug held against their chest, his nose meets Rook’s in an affectionate brush. He takes a deep breath as he pulls back to reangle his head, ready to eagerly claim their lips.

Rook leans forward in anticipation, expecting to be met, but Lucanis freezes in place, taking another quick sniff. Rook’s eyes go from hooded and sultry to squinting in confusion down at Lucanis as he stops, wondering why he’d paused. Lucanis looks equally confused, looking down at the almost forgotten mug between them quizzically.

“Is that…” He leans down further, his hand on Rook’s chest sliding across to grasp the half empty mug that was still gripped loosely in their hand, bringing it up to his lips and taking a quick sip. The rich flavour of Andoral’s Breath burst across his tongue and he looks up at Rook, eyes wide in surprise.

“It is! But…you don’t like coffee?” His attention locks back onto Rook’s face, confusion still furrowing his brow. He mentally goes through his list of Rook’s likes and dislikes that he’s been cataloguing ever since he first felt that draw to Rook in the Ossuary. He recalls that first day in Café Pietra in perfect clarity, where Rook had said as much, and nothing they had said since countered that information. His mind starts to race, before a palm smoothing down his side grounds him back in the present.

“I admit I’ve grown…rather fond of it in recent months.”

A rare blush graces their features and they look away almost bashfully, breaking away from Lucanis’ gaze as it slowly relaxes from confusion to a soft affection reserved solely for Rook.

“...it tastes of you.”

It was almost too soft to hear, muttered like a secret to the space between them. Lucanis is inches from Rook’s lips and attentive to their every breath, but he almost doesn’t believe his ears. Spite’s possessive growl echoes inside his mind.

Rook tilts their head back up towards Lucanis, eyes flicking down to Lucanis’ lips before they steal a chaste kiss, tongue darting out to sweep the taste of coffee from the seam of his lips where they’re still parted slightly in shock.

“I may have started to appreciate it, but it still tastes better from your lips.” Their eyes are hooded seductively once more, but there isn’t an ounce of dishonesty in their words. Lucanis feels almost disconnected from his body as he’s washed away in a surge of emotions: love, lust, a soul deep yearning. It all bubbles up inside him until it boils over and something in him snaps. He’s not sure if the growl that leaves him is his or Spite’s, but they are both in agreement that they Need. Rook. Now.

He surges forward, wings bursting from his back to propel him faster, closing the last few inches between them in a heartbeat. One quick hand moves the final obstacle of the coffee cup to the table, pried easily from Rook’s slack grip. It then joins its pair in grabbing Rook’s thighs and lifting them fully up onto the surface. He devours Rook’s mouth as he presses close enough that it feels like they could meld into one, wishes that he could crawl inside so that all he knows is Rook. They groan into Lucanis’ mouth, opening up to entwine their tongues, licking the taste of coffee from his mouth voraciously. Rook’s legs cinch around Lucanis’ hips pulling him in impossibly closer as they break apart to gasp in breaths against each other's mouths. Purple glimmers around the edge of Lucanis’ eyes as he gazes up at Rook, before he diverts his attention to latch his mouth to their neck, one hand sliding reverently up their back to eventually tangle in soft auburn locks as he nibbles at the sensitive skin of their throat. A broken moan escapes Rook’s mouth as their hair is gently tugged, guiding their head back to give Lucanis more room to work.

One of Rook’s hands claws down the taut muscles of his back, brushing over the base of Spite’s spectral wings, causing a violent shiver to pass through Lucanis. a gravelly “Ours.” rasped against Rook’s neck, Spite’s voice layered over Lucanis’. The hand in their hair tugs sharply before relaxing, blunt nails scritching apologetically over their abused scalp. Lucanis kisses his way back up to Rook’s lips, gentler now but no less hungry, blade calloused fingers worming their way into Rook’s shirt to clutch at the bare skin at the small of their back.

Their shirt is barely clinging on to the breadth of their shoulders as he slinks his arms around them, mapping the muscles reverently with his fingers. There’s a heat roaring in his gut, he can feel it building and spreading like wildfire. A devastating want so unfamiliar, he feels like it should scare him with how deep it runs. But it’s Rook. Safe, and sure, and home. And there is no fear, no uncertainty. Only a deep well of desire burning through his veins, fanned by the heat of Rook’s own desire, mirrored back at him through blown pupils, greedy hands and kiss swollen lips.

-----

Rook pulls away enough to rest their foreheads together, sharing ragged breaths. Their fingers thread through Lucanis’ silky hair, petting soothingly, as they muster enough of their wits to put thoughts into words, “Luca,” they pant against spit slicked lips, “if you still need to take this slow…I might need a minute.” They ease back further, hand sliding forward to cup his cheek, thumb caressing the edge of his beard reverently. Lucanis couldn’t ever remember being touched with such care before Rook. His hands slip to Rook’s hips as he presses in close, his fingers slide down to knead the firm flesh of their ass and pull them forward, the unmistakable hardness in both of their trousers meeting in a harsh grind that tears an unfettered groan from deep in both of their chests. Lucanis pants against Rook’s cheek before moving, peppering kisses along their smooth jaw, up to their ear. Rook isn’t sure if the gravel in his voice is from Spite or just pure arousal, but the desperate “I need you Rook.” growled into their ear sends sparks of lightning dancing down their spine. Rook stifles a moan into the soft skin behind Lucanis’ ear, before nipping at the lobe and responding with a hoarse whisper. “Then take me to bed.”

Lucanis snaps to attention immediately, pressing one last filthy kiss to Rook’s lips before eagerly following the command.

“With pleasure.”

He utters hoarsely between shared breaths. He shifts Rook off the table, grabbing them under their thighs with both hands, squeezing the muscles as they flex beneath his fingers. Rook instinctively wraps him tighter between their legs as he hauls them up into his arms. Despite his shorter stature, the years of rigorous Crow training, determination, ample motivation, and a little extra demonic strength, makes easy work of carrying his lover towards the pantry. The door slams swiftly shut behind them with the weight of a body pressed against it, twin moans muffled through the thick wood.

For the first time in a long time, Lucanis’ coffee is left to go cold, untouched.

-----

Rook reclines against the headboard of their bed, sweat long since cooled against their skin but far too content to move and clean up fully. Lucanis relaxes against Rook’s chest, luxuriating in the tranquil comfort of Rook’s heart beating steadily beneath his ear, fingers idly tracing the branching lightning scars across Rook’s torso, legs tangled together beneath the thin sheet pulled up to their waists.

Rook cards a hand gently through Lucanis’ hair, drawing a purring sigh that rumbles against their chest. Lucanis’ eyes slit open, a soft purple glow suffusing them as they slide up to Rook’s face. He shifts to bury his face in the crook of their neck, taking a deep inhale while teeth nip teasingly at the skin there, soothed with a quick tongue. “Tastes like Rook. And Lucanis…” he continues up to steal a kiss “and Coffee.” Rook chuckles against Lucanis’ lips as the purple glow recedes, leaving only the glow of warm affection in dark eyes once more. He noses along Rook’s jaw, pressing fluttering kisses as he goes, until he can rest his head against their shoulder.

Lucanis huffs a soft breath of a laugh into Rook’s shoulder. They make an inquisitive noise as they tilt their head down to meet his eyes, sliding a calloused palm up to cup Lucanis’ neck and caress his cheek with their thumb.

“I was just thinking; all this time and this was how I could have been making people appreciate good coffee.” He presses a kiss to Rook’s shoulder pointedly.

Rook draws their hand back from Lucanis’ face, pressing it to their own chest with a mock gasp of affront, “I hope you aren’t planning to convert anyone else.” They playfully narrow their eyes at him, a smile fighting to break free.

“Never,” Lucanis vows huskily, lacing his fingers over the hand on Rook’s chest and bringing it in close so he can press a reverent kiss to their palm, “this is only for you mi amor.”

Their joined hands settle between them as they relax contentedly, sharing in the warmth and comfort of each other. Their hard earned bubble of peace and respite a balm to prepare them for the remaining trials ahead. But they rest easier knowing that they won’t be facing them alone.

[raikiriwolfwrites]

Bitterness, Sweetened by Your Lips

After a trip out to Treviso, Teia has a present for Rook.

Enby RookxLucanis

Chapter 12 - Crows Bearing Gifts

Read on AO3

Lucanis watches Rook chatting with Teia, now a common sight whenever they pass through the Cantori Diamond. Seeing the two closest things he had to family, outside of his scant blood relatives, becoming friends sent a strange feeling of something through his chest.

Rook had been more than happy to come along and help clear out some Antaam Viago had been complaining to him about. The mission, as usual for them now, ended in them spending time taking the pedestrian way back to the Diamond. A habit he cherished, both for getting to appreciate being home in the bustling streets of Treviso, and for the pleasure of Rook’s undivided company; their companions had long learned that unless it was serious, it was best to leave them to it when they went on small missions in Treviso. There was little time they could afford to use to relax with the importance of their mission, so these brief reprieves were precious to him, even if it was just a short walk across the city with Rook a solid presence at his side.

Pulling himself back to the present, Rook and Teia seemed to be saying their goodbyes. He wandered closer just as Teia held up a finger to Rook, turning away to pick a small, unassuming, brown paper wrapped parcel off the table nearby. She pressed it to Rook’s chest firmly until their hands came up to hold it, surprise colouring their face. Pulling away she sent Rook a wink before shooting a sidelong smirk at Lucanis, filled with mischief.

He couldn’t help the surge of possessiveness, despite knowing full well that Teia wasn’t truly flirting, Spite fanned the flames burning in his gut, manifesting to plant himself between Teia and Rook with a heated glare, unbeknownst to the two of them. He wrangles his emotions under control enough to bid her a friendly farewell, but the feeling simmers in the back of his mind until he and Rook are out of the Diamond and passing through the eluvian into the Crossroads.

As soon as they both step through, he crowds Rook back into the frame of the mirror, pulling them down by their open shirt to claim their mouth in a kiss. Rook reciprocates eagerly, a faint chuckle escaping against his lips before their tongue probes at the seam of his lips. Opening up, their tongues twine, Rook licking into his mouth like he’s trying to clean the taste of the coffee he had on their walk from the inside of his mouth. Any lingering negative feelings melt away at the press of Rook against him, their presence a balm to his soul and Spite’s both. The kiss turns languid, easing into gentle pecks before he pulls back completely.

Lucanis looks away sheepishly, both he and Spite calmed down enough for him to contemplate his actions. “Ah…sorry.”

Rook laughs it off, cupping his face to make him meet warm amber. “You never have to apologise for that. Feel free to do it any time. Although from the look you were giving Teia I was surprised you waited until we’d left the Diamond to stake your claim.” Their teasing sends a surge of heat across his face, embarrassed at the slip in control, but not entirely sorry for it. Leaning into the palm briefly he disengages, snagging Rook’s free hand to settle comfortably in his, and restarting their trek through the Crossroads.

Curiosity now had space to come to the forefront, and he looked across at the parcel still held in their other hand. “What is it?”

Their shrug tugged at their joined palms. “She said it was a surprise that I need to save for later. Should I be excited or worried about a surprise from a Crow?”

He made a considering noise as Rook observed him, sensing that there was a hint of genuine question in the jest. “Well Teia likes you… so probably both.”

-----

They separated at the door to the library: Lucanis to the dining hall to remove his armour, clean up, and start cooking dinner, Rook up the stairs to their room. A chaste kiss before their parting left Rook with a smile as they make their way to the upper level. Despite spending every night in what the two of them now dub “their room” next to the pantry, the vast majority of Rook’s gear still resides in their old room so as not to clutter up their shared sanctuary with all the items they pick up from their journeys. Only the most important make their way over to their shared space.

Cleaning off their weapons and securing them away, they start stripping their travel gear to sort out. Only then do their eyes roam over to the nondescript package they had placed on the chaise. They hadn’t told Lucanis the whole truth back in the Crossroads. They truly didn’t know what it was, but Teia had whispered some extra information they had kept to themself.

“A thank you gift, for all you have done for the Crows. Open it alone. If I’m right it’ll be as much a present for him as for you, but you’ll want to surprise him with it.”

They didn’t trust the sly look and cheeky wink Teia had thrown them, but followed her instructions none the less. Picking it up they considered it critically. There was some give beneath the firm wrapping, the weight wasn’t notably heavy or light, giving nothing away as to the contents. Placing it back on the chaise, curious fingers pull at the cord tying it shut and carefully unfold the paper wrapping. It takes them a moment to recognise what was inside, but as they peeled back layers to take in the set of gifts they’d be given they can feel a grin splitting their face.

A laugh burst forth from their chest. “A present for Lucanis too, huh?.”

They finished getting undressed, making sure everything was put away properly, before cleaning up and dressing back into casual clothes for the evening. Eying themself in the mirror on the way out, they couldn’t suppress a smirk. Eager to see Lucanis’ reaction to their gift, they make their way over to the dining hall, smile in place and a jovial bounce in their steps.

-----

Lucanis had quickly and efficiently stripped his armour and weapons, checked them over and dressed back in his casual clothes before stepping out into the pantry.

Casting his eyes over the supplies, he decides on a simple dish from home for dinner. Something quick and easy so he can spend more time relaxing with Rook for the evening. Humming happily to himself at the thought he starts gathering the necessary ingredients in his arms and steps out into the kitchen to start work.

He’s got a lot of the prep done, pasta cooking on the stove and sauce well underway under his careful guidance, and he idly wonders what’s taking Rook so long. They’re usually pretty quick about getting comfy to come and help, or mostly watch. His pondering is interrupted by the familiar footsteps of Rook outside the door. He smiles to himself as he adds a few more ingredients to the sauce, hearing Rook walk across the room and lean against the table, he gives the pot a quick stir before turning around.

His mouth opens in a greeting that catches in his throat as he faces Rook. It stays hanging open as he stares, eyes raking over them.

He’s not sure how long he’s frozen in place, devouring the sight before him in stunned silence, but the faint smell of burning alerts his delicate nose to the pot behind him. Whipping round he stirs the sauce up, hastily removing it from the heat so he can focus back on Rook with no distractions from dinner disasters.

He still can’t quite form words as he takes slow steps towards them, looking up to see the smug smirk on their face.

“So you like Teia’s present too then?”

He allows his eyes to rove down their body. Broad shoulders and chest clothed in a familiar silky dark blue fabric, sleeves rolled up to expose their thick forearms and the tail end of the dragon winding down their left arm. Clothing popular among the Crows for more casual wear clung temptingly to their chest, although most Crows did up more buttons, not that Lucanis was complaining. Only one visibly fastened above the wide leather belt cinching in their waist. Below that their muscled thighs were sinfully wrapped in tight leather, accentuating their form beautifully. Seeing Rook in Crow clothing, and wearing it so well, his colours, his people, sent a bolt of heat down his spine.

He knew exactly how soft Crow leathers were and couldn’t stop himself closing the last few feet between them so he could grasp at those leather clad thighs tightly while he claimed Rook’s mouth in a hungry kiss. He used his grip on them to pivot so he was against the table, Rook looming over him so he could let his hands wander fully. The heat of their body had seeped into the silk so it was deliciously warm and soft as he mapped Rook’s shoulders and down their back through the fabric. A brief stop to squeeze at their waist beneath the thick belt before they found their prize, grasping handfuls of their ass. The soft and supple leather like a second skin as it moulded over them, it had enough give that he could massage the firm muscle and almost imagine there was nothing between them. Rook’s arms bracketed him, hands holding them up on the table either side of him as they let his greedy fingers get their fill while they traded heated kisses.

Breathless, Rook pulled away. “So was that a yes?”

Lucanis could only be immensely grateful that he got to witness this in private, not sure if he could have contained himself if the others were present, and not entirely sure if he would care enough to.

He placed a swift peck to Rook’s lips, finally grasping enough coherent thought to form words, husky as they were with desire. “Teia’s getting a gift basket.”

Rook huffed a laugh against his lips. “It is very comfortable.” They teased. “The materials feel nice against my skin.”

“And mine.” Lucanis growled against their lips before claiming them once more, a demonstrative squeeze of his hands confirming his point.

A soft rumble from Rook’s stomach made them break apart; Rook with an embarrassed chuckle and Lucanis with a start. He had almost forgotten he was in the middle of dinner with Rook providing such a delicious distraction.

Sliding his hands to Rook’s waist he pushed them away gently so he could stand, with one final pass of his hands up their chest, the silk slipping under his fingers pleasingly, he planted a final kiss to the expanse of skin exposed by the open shirt. He patted their chest lightly as he moved back to the kitchen with a determined mutter of “Dinner.”

Trailing after him as he drained the pasta, adding some of the water to the sauce as he brought it back to the heat to finish cooking, Rook watched from a few feet back. “Can I help with anything?”

“No, it was mostly done when you came in and distracted me.” He shot Rook an affectionate glare.

“Coffee then?”

The mock glare melted away to soft affection. “Always.”

Lucanis finished adding the final touches as Rook puttered away making coffee for him at his setup near the pantry door. He found himself swaying along gently to their humming as they worked. They had been a diligent student in learning how to prepare it properly, saying it was only fair to be able to make something for him since he spent so much time cooking for them.

As the aroma of fresh coffee permeates the space, the domesticity of the moment hits him, and he realises that he would give anything for more days like this with Rook. Home cooked food, fresh coffee, and Rook by his side; something he was not raised to think he could have, but he now craved like nothing before.

The scent of coffee grows stronger as Rook approaches, he finishes plating up two helpings and turns to Rook, his favourite mug steaming gently in their hands. Taking the proffered mug he breaths in deeply before taking a sip, humming contentedly as the rich flavour burst over his tongue.

“Perfect.”

He stretches up to press a coffee flavoured kiss of thanks to their lips.

Grabbing their plates they settle down at the table to enjoy their meal, and the rest of their evening in peace. And as much as Lucanis very much enjoys Rook in their new Crow outfit, he much prefers the feel of Rook’s warm, bare skin beneath him as they curl up to sleep.

-----

Viago walks into their room in the Diamond to see Teia admiring a beautiful basket, overflowing with her favourite flowers, her favourite wine, her favourite snacks. He raises an eyebrow as he slides in behind her, arms finding their place comfortably around her waist.

“Who pissed you off so badly they had to apologise with this?”

“No one. It’s a thank you.” She turns in his arms, looping hers around his neck. “I’m a very good friend.” She says smugly, pulling him down to greet him properly with a kiss.

“Are you now?”

As he pulls her away, he catches a glimpse of a card slipped in amongst the lavish collection of gifts. The crest of House Dellamorte, signed only with a sloping, elegant ‘L’.

[raikiriwolfwrites]

Bitterness, Sweetened by Your Lips

Spite knows what he wants, and Lucanis learns that sometimes he can have what he wants. Rook gets their own personal weighted blanket.

Enby RookxLucanis

Chapter 11 - Midnight Wanderings

Read on AO3

The sound of the door clicking shut rouses Rook. They’re fairly sure that it’s nothing dangerous, the wards of the Lighthouse have been nothing but secure, so they don’t jolt awake as they might otherwise. Eyes still bleary they prop themselves up enough to look over the back of the chaise, squinting into the darkness to see who it is.

Lucanis’ lithe form stands in the doorway, body fidgeting uncharacteristically. The otherworldly purple glow in his eyes quickly clues Rook in to the fact that Lucanis isn’t the one who steered his body here.

Voice still hoarse from sleep, a quiet rasp that breaks the silence of the room. “Spite?”

At the sound of their voice Spite steps forward, rounding the chaise. They glance up curiously as he stops next to them. Propped up with one arm supporting their weight their blanket slips down to pool at their waist, leaving their bare torso exposed to the slight chill of the room. Lucanis is in the soft, loose shirt and trousers he usually sleeps in, now that he’s better at trusting Spite enough to try and do it more regularly. It brings a soft smile to their face. “He fell asleep, huh?”

Spite jerks a short nod, an odd expression on his face that Rook can’t quite make out; the expressiveness of Lucanis’ warm brown eyes shrouded by the violet haze. A reticence that they don’t usually associate with Spite. Rook rises further, about to ask what’s wrong, when their words are replaced with a breathless, “-oof!” Their back meeting the chaise once more as they find themself with a lapful of Lucanis-shaped demon. Their arms instinctively come around to secure him, waking up fully as worry starts to gnaw at them. Spite winds his arms around Rook, burying his face into their neck with a deep inhale.

“Spite?” They probe gently, concern lacing their voice. Things had been going well between him and Lucanis, what could have gone wrong to have Spite acting like this? Had he slipped back into the Ossuary again?

Their slowly spiralling worry was immediately dissipated by a soft rumble of words against their throat.

“Missed Rook.”

All their muscles unwind at the admittance, relaxing their body back into the chaise as they let out a relieved chuckle. Skimming a hand soothingly up his back they pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “You’re welcome to come find me, any time.”

“Lucanis. Miss Rook too.”

Rook hums softly in acknowledgement, smiling against his hair.

“Well I need sleep, but you’re welcome to stay.”

Spite’s arms clutching tighter is answer enough.

He lets out a growl of displeasure as Rook displaces him momentarily, moving him away slightly to pull the blanket out from under him. He seems mollified once he realises what Rook is doing and is quick to make himself at home again against Rook once it’s free, settling happily as Rook drapes the blanket over them both. Spite’s, well, Lucanis’, body is a comforting weight as they drift back to sleep, a solid wall of warmth easing them into a deep, restful sleep.

-----

Lucanis drifts awake slowly, warm and comfortable, the most well rested he has felt in…years probably. Eyes still closed he luxuriates in the unfamiliar feeling. Spite’s so quiet in the back of his mind that he could almost imagine it’s a quiet morning in Treviso, one before the Ossuary, the gentle up and down movement beneath his head like a gondola bobbing on the canals. The cocoon of warmth and steady reassuring rhythm beating under his ear almost lulls him back to sleep once more. His mind, however reluctantly, starts to wake up though, finally cataloguing all the unfamiliar sensations, and his eyes fly open with a start.

A familiar scarred chest came into focus first, explaining the heartbeat and the gentle rise and fall of their breaths. He watches his own hand flex where it lays against their ribs. Beyond that, he can see one of Rook’s legs sticking out the edge of the blanket covering them both, hanging off the side of the chaise as they sprawl comfortably on their back. Sturdy arms cling loosely in sleep, keeping him safe and warm, a hand slipped under the hem of his shirt to rest skin on skin at the small of his back. Sleepy thoughts of Treviso are banished as realisation sets in, but the feeling of home lingers.

His stirring and internal panic must have roused Rook, their breathing hitching slightly before a deep inhale and a sleepy hum buzzes beneath his ear. He tries to sit up, sees Rook blinking slowly down at him through thick lashes as apologies tumble from his lips. “Rook! I’m sorry. Spite- He-”

Rook takes no heed of his words and simply tugs him back down against them, arms tightening around him as they roll onto their side so Lucanis is sandwiched between the back of the chaise and Rook’s broad body. Lucanis is startled into silence as he is practically engulfed by Rook, finding himself settling down from his brief panic as they hold him close and nuzzle into his hair. He breaths out a sigh as he melts into the embrace, pressing his forehead to Rook’s collarbone he tries again, grounded by Rook’s embrace. “I’m sorry he intruded on you, I’ll talk to him.” He tried to send a wave of chastisement Spite’s way and was soundly ignored.

Rook petted a hand through his hair as they shimmied down to be face to face with him. Lucanis met their eyes, they were still slightly hazy, sleep clinging to them, but the affection in them was crystal clear and it warmed his insides as much as Rook’s body heat was warming the rest of him. Their voice was husky and slow, vibrating against his chest where they pressed together.

“No apologies necessary. You’re always welcome here. Both of you.”

Spite stirred enough to send an echo of smugness his way and he rolled his eyes, fondly exasperated. “Don’t encourage him.”

Pressing a sweet, chaste kiss to Lucanis’ lips they pulled back with a smile. “Good morning.” They said as they nuzzled their nose against his.

Lucanis could only hum in agreement, certainly the best morning he’d had in a very long time, and returned to Rook’s lips. They remained entwined, sharing languid kisses in their bubble of warmth until finally deciding it was time to face the day.

-----

The next night Rook is awoken again by muffled footfalls. Opening their eyes they see familiar purple looming over them, still hesitant he says quietly, quiet for Spite anyway, “Rook?”

Shuffling over to make room they let Spite wind around them again and settle down to sleep. They slip into unconsciousness with a smile on their face.

-----

Lucanis wakes, but not where he went to sleep on his cot in the pantry. It’s warmer, a faint blue green glow behind his eyelids instead of the usual dim candlelight.

At the exasperation Lucanis sends his way internally, Spite replies indignantly.

Rook safe.

Ours.

Home.

Lucanis softens at that. He does feel safe in Rook’s arms and he’s glad that Spite can feel at least some semblance of that too. His sigh is a mixture of contentedness and resignation but he nestles deeper into Rook’s embrace to enjoy the moment anyway.

-----

The third night Rook doesn’t even open their eyes as they hear the door click shut, simply lifting the blanket and back asleep before the weight has even settled fully against them.

-----

He wakes to the now familiar press of warmth, Rook a steady presence beneath him once more. Waking up fully he presses his forehead against Rook’s muscled chest with a groan of annoyance.

He feels Rook’s chuckle rumbling beneath his forehead before he slides up to press a good morning kiss to their lips, warm hands settling on his waist. Lazy kisses are exchanged in place of words for a few more minutes before the real world beckons once more, and they go their separate ways to dress and prepare for the day ahead.

-----

Lucanis lounges against the counter in the kitchen, savouring his last sips of coffee before heading to bed. He glances up at the sound of the door, unsurprised to see Rook having long since learned the sound of their footsteps. What surprises him is the fact that they’re wearing their usual sleepwear, with the addition of a loose shirt he assumes was thrown on for modesty for their walk across the Lighthouse.

“Here for a nightcap? I can make you a cioccolata calda?” He questions as Rook beelines towards him and steals a quick kiss.

“Hmmm not quite.” They whisper against his lips before pulling back, snagging a hand to twine their fingers between them as they recline against the opposite counter. They lounge in amicable silence as Lucanis finishes his drink. Rook begrudgingly lets him have his hand back to wash up the cup, smiling as Rook takes it from him to dry it with a cloth before setting back on its shelf and claiming his hand back. Lucanis raises a brow in question as Rook tugs him towards the pantry door, Rook throws him a wry look.

“I figured we may as well cut out the middleman and save Spite a walk.”

A light flush creeps onto Lucanis’ face as understanding dawns, Spite crowing in victory behind Rook. Despite having slept beside Rook for the last 3 nights, unintentional as it was on his part, the thought of actually going to bed with Rook sends flutters of nervousness and anticipation through his stomach.

“…I would like that.” He looks up at Rook, almost shyly, as he grips Rook’s hand tighter and reaches out to open the pantry door.

Stepping in they both pause, blinking in surprise at the sight before them. Glancing at each other before looking ahead, the view unchanged.

Where Lucanis’ cot was previously nestled against the far wall, there’s a now plain wall adorned only with a thick wooden door. Sharing another confused look between them they tread lightly towards the new door. Lucanis steps slightly ahead of Rook, distantly knowing that it’s likely perfectly safe in the Lighthouse, but wanting to shield Rook with his body just in case. Turning the handle the door swings slowly inwards, hinges creaking lightly.

Rook bursts into laughter behind him as he freezes. Their arms wind around his waist as they stifle their slowly fading chuckles into his hair.

Their voice is still tinged with amusement when they regain enough breath to speak. “Even the Lighthouse agrees it’s a good idea.”

The room ahead of them is small, cozy, but not cramped. A spacious bed takes up the majority of the fairly narrow space, midnight sheets shot through with threads of deep purple that catch in the candlelight. The colour reminds him of the shadowy tones of Spite’s wings and he feels Spite preening behind his eyes.

The bed sits nestled in the far right corner, a set of drawers in the remaining space between the bed and the other wall, his spare weapons are already mounted on racks against the left hand wall, with space for more. He eyes the room critically: single entrance, the creak of the door hinge would alert him to anyone trying to enter, the door is thick and sturdy with a solid looking lock, the bed frame is flush with the floor so there’s nowhere for anyone or anything to hide within, and the bed itself looks very comfortable.

Rook watches him study the room, apparently following his train of thought and remembering their previous conversation about his chosen lodgings as they move to stand beside him, nudging his shoulder lightly. “And it’s still close to the coffee.” They joke, and Lucanis can’t help but smile back. He turns to push the door closed, sliding the lock into place. Grabbing Rook’s hand he pulls them the last few feet to the bed, they toe off their shoes and are about to crawl onto the bed but Lucanis stops them with a hand on the back of their shirt, reaching for the hem questioningly as they turn back to him. He blinks up at Rook through his lashes as he runs rough fingertips across their stomach, lifting the shirt. “Feeling your skin against mine is…a comfort.”

Rook gazes down at him gently, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips before withdrawing and tugging the shirt over their head. They caress Lucanis cheek gently before throwing back the covers and making themself comfortable near the wall. Lucanis thinks for a fraction of a second before shucking his own shirt and folding it up with Rook’s on top of the drawers. Settling into the bed beside Rook he finds his now favourite position against their chest, luxuriating in the planes of bare skin pressed together. Sliding a hand up Lucanis’ side they query softly, “Are you comfortable like this?”

He hums agreement into Rook’s neck, “I never wore a shirt to sleep before, Crows aren’t particularly shy, but since anyone could just wander into the pantry, I picked up the habit. But since we have this room now…” He drapes himself comfortably against Rook, their arms settling more snugly around him in turn, fingers skimming the bare skin of his back after tucking the covers tighter around them.

He feels Spite itching at the back of his throat and relents, tensing minutely as Spite slips to the forefront to rumble into Rook’s throat. “Rook. My favourite.”

Spite takes one final breath before slipping back into his mind, content just having Rook close, Lucanis’ body relaxing again. He presses a kiss to Rook’s shoulder and settles back in.

“You’re my favourite too.” He confesses softly. He hears a quietly uttered, “And you’re mine.” as he drifts to sleep with a smile, secure in the knowledge that he’ll wake up exactly where he started for once.

-----

“You’ve been looking awfully chipper lately, Lucanis.” Neve teases, glancing pointedly between him and Rook at breakfast.

He shrugs nonchalantly, taking a deep drink of his coffee. “I’ve been sleeping better since Spite and I came to our agreement.”

Rook shoots him a knowing look, and he hides his smirk behind the rim of his coffee cup. She doesn’t need to know that the new agreement is that they get to fall asleep in Rook’s arms.

[raikiriwolfwrites]

Bitterness, Sweetened by Your Lips

A little peaceful interlude.

Enby RookxLucanis

Chapter 10 - Stolen Moments

Read on AO3

Lucanis pouts up at Rook from where he lays: flat on the ground, sweat drenched, and panting softly from exertion. They’re in much the same state… except for the fact that they’re on top of him. Their training sessions and spars had long since become routine but Rook had come in with some surprises this time. He nearly had them, and then they’d managed to get their legs around him, twisting and flipping him to the floor where they now sat smugly atop his chest, pinning his arms with their thighs. He knew that move all too well, but he much prefers it with Rook’s solid weight trapping him. And if he didn’t resist quite as thoroughly as he would have normally at the feel of their deliciously muscled thighs squeezing him, well, there was no one else here to see it.

“You’ve been training with Teia.”

Rook shuffles back enough to let him free his arms but remains firmly seated as they lean down to kiss the pout from his lips, voice bright and sing-songy.

“Guilty.”

They stay there catching their breath and stealing kisses a little longer than appropriate, but Lucanis relishes the warm pressure of Rook on top of him, in no hurry to move them off him. They seem quite content to remain there as well, so he snakes his arms around them to hold them closer, clutching at the damp fabric of their shirt.

-----

Eventually the feeling of sweat soaked hair and clothes clinging to their skin motivated Rook to move from their very comfortable position; they place one last kiss to Lucanis’ lips before sitting upright again, patting him on the chest before rolling to their feet and offering him a hand.

“I think it’s time we cleaned up.”

He grasped their wrist and swiftly levered himself to his feet with his usual grace, slicking the damp hair back from his face with a frown.

“Agreed.”

Stripping their shirts off, the pair of them start to wipe the cooling sweat from their skin. Rook’s hand pauses in the air as they get distracted watching beads of sweat run down Lucanis’ neck to settle, glistening, in the dark hair dusting his chest. It’s Rook’s turn to pout now as he brings his shirt up to scrub at his chest and they catch the knowing smirk on Lucanis’ face before they shake themself from their stupor to finish wiping themself down.

Lucanis plucks Rook’s shirt from their fingers and throws it along with his own onto the bench at the side to wash later before tangling their fingers together and tugging them towards the bathing room that had appeared alongside their training space, a very welcome addition to the Lighthouse as far as they were concerned.

The deep bath inside was large enough for four or five people to bathe together comfortably. With its ever warm and magically self cleaning water it was bliss after a hard mission or training session. Whatever magic of the Fade was instilled in the bath gave the water a strange otherworldly appearance, it appeared crystal clear and yet somehow obfuscated anything submerged within, allowing a small sense of modesty to bathers beneath the surface.

It was a cozy space: dimly lit, with space by the door to change and store clothing, and fluffy, warm towels always ready and waiting. The bath itself took up most of the remaining space, a generous supply of various soaps and oils lined the walls within easy reach. Rook was never sure if it was the Lighthouse providing them, or if Lucanis was adding them to the shopping list, but either way they never seemed to run out and had enough scents to choose from to suit anybody’s tastes.

They both finished stripping down and sunk into the water with joint sighs of pleasure as the warmth seeped into aching muscles, soothing them down to their bones. Rook made quick work of plunging fully into the water to wet their hair before settling on the submerged ledge to lather soap through it and scrub across their body thoroughly before dipping in again to rinse it all off. They watch the suds slowly vanish, leaving the water clear once more before glancing over to where Lucanis sits a short distance away.

Where Rook is fast, years of sharing cramped bathing space with other Shadow Dragons making speed a necessity, a habit they have yet to break as it means they get to spend more time just relaxing in the water, Lucanis is far more calm and methodical. Being able to sit and admire him for longer, another excellent reason to get cleaning up done faster. Relaxed and content, rivulets of water glistening across his tanned skin, they could certainly get used to this sight, they think with a soft sigh.

Rook sits up straighter from where they had slid low in the water at the sight of Lucanis reaching over for the soaps and oils for his hair. The splash of water and sudden movement draws his eye and his eyes crinkle affectionately, a warm chuckle drawn from his chest at the grabby hands Rook makes at him. He glides over, depositing the jars on the tiles next to Rook, dipping his head under the surface briefly, before settling in the space between Rook’s spread knees dutifully.

Humming approvingly, Rook sets to work, gathering some of the cool liquid in hand and lathering it up between their palms before smoothing it over his hair. They comb it through to the ends of his silky hair gently, tangling their feet together playfully beneath the water as they work. Lucanis grows more pliant and boneless as they start to work the lather into his scalp, blissful little noises rumbling out of his throat. Rook sweeps his hair to one side, pressing a kiss to his neck as he flops back to rest against their shoulder, neck lax as Rook’s fingers continue their ministrations against his scalp with one hand.

“Ok, rinse.”

They push him gently down, and he slips into the water with a reluctant grumble, washing out the suds thoroughly before he resurfaces, slicking his hair back from his face. He shimmies back onto the ledge to reclaim his space, Rook welcoming him back in eagerly. Moving on to the next jar they warm the lightly fragrant oil in their palms before smoothing it through his hair, the residue that remains on their hands they work into his beard. Lucanis shivers against them as they scritch through the coarser hair on his cheeks and jaw. He’s almost as liquid as the surrounding water by the time Rook draws their arms around his chest to pull him flush, back to chest, as they slip lower into the water to soak.

Cocooned in perfectly warm water with the weight of Lucanis against them, they could almost forget the weight of duty hanging around their necks. But the missives were sparse at the moment, nothing was calling for their immediate attention, so they let their thoughts wander.

“I was thinking…”

They receive a low questioning hum, Lucanis turning his head to blink drowsily up at them. His dark eyes molten and languid beneath thick lashes.

“We’re still waiting for the Wardens and Veil Jumpers to gather their intel, so we currently have nothing planned for tomorrow... I was thinking we could go to the Hall of Valour. Put our training to use and let you and Spite stretch your wings in a non life-or-death situation for once.”

He hums gently as he shifts, twisting as he pushes himself up to loop an arm around Rook’s neck so he can press a slow kiss to their mouth. A brief flash of purple in the corner of his eye says that they got Spite’s interest, always up for a fight. He pulls away enough to speak, voice quiet and low. “We would like that.”

“It’s a date.” They rub their nose against his affectionately. “We’d better get out and get some sleep then. We’ll need our energy for tomorrow.”

They dry off and redress in sleep clothes in comfortable silence, parting ways with a goodnight kiss and Lucanis pressing a handful of snacks into their palm in the dining hall before heading to their respective rooms to rest.

-----

Rook bounces lightly on the spot, jittery with anticipation as they stand behind the competitor’s gate to the arena. Lucanis is the picture of collectedness beside them, but Rook can feel the buzzing energy of Spite flitting around them both, can almost catch the faint shimmer of a purple silhouette, even more attuned to him now since their foray into Lucanis’ mind. Spite’s clearly as eager for a good fight as they were. Lucanis occasionally follows him with his eyes, unable to repress the flash of a fond smirk at his antics.

A Lord of Fortune, scantily clad in gold approaches the pair. “You’re up! Give ‘em a good show, I’ve got money on you.” He shoots a wink to Rook as he pulls open the gate.

“You can count on us Mateo.”

Isabela’s voice bellows out over the cheers of the crowd as they enter the arena proper, Lucanis close at their heels.

“Stepping out of the Shadows for your entertainment once again, I present your first competitor, Rook!”

They bow dramatically to the crowd once they’re out in the open, waving to everyone in the stands cheerfully before stepping aside, sweeping an arm out to Lucanis ready for his introduction.

-----

“And fighting by their side we have the legendary Spirit of Determination, Spite! …and his host, Lucanis of the Crows.”

The bright laugh that startles out of Rook is hard enough to almost make them double over and the sight of Rook’s glee almost outweighs Lucanis’ indignation. Spite is happy, at least, eagerly taking in the crowd's cheers and turning to look back at Lucanis, preening smugly. He can’t help but roll his eyes fondly at the mirth on Rook’s face as they try to stifle another laugh and the insufferably pleased look on Spite’s.

As the first wave of creatures is released into the arena, Lucanis looks to Spite, considering.

“Well then, great Spirit of Determination, give them a show.” He feels the initial wave of confusion and surprise from Spite wash over him as he mentally steps back morph into glee when the demon realises, taking the freely offered control of Lucanis’ body. It’s a strange experience, settling on the periphery of himself, watching through his own eyes as a spectator as his body follows Spite’s commands. The rush of air as his wings burst forth and propel him across the arena present but strangely disconnected. In the early days of their joining it was a fight to be one or the other, Spite was always there, watching and waiting unless he had the strength to mentally block him out. Their new bond of trust now meant it was normally either him in charge, with Spite lingering close, or both of them working in unison, but letting Spite have full control while still present? He never would have imagined that they could get to this point.

Spite swoops around the arena, showing off to great roars from the crowd as he cuts every enemy in his path down with vicious delight, taking to the skies to twirl above Rook as their blade clashes with a sentinel below. Rook fires a burst of lightning across the remaining foes, kicking the stunned sentinel straight to its doom at the hand of Spite’s blades as he dives back into the fray, pivoting to plunge their own knife into a slowly recovering deepstalker next to them.

The few stragglers are dealt with swiftly between the two of them and with the arena cleared Spite runs up to Rook eagerly only to be engulfed in a tight, adrenaline fuelled hug as Rook laughs breathlessly. Rook retreats to yell up into the stands.

“Isabela! I thought you said you had a challenge for us!”

Spite cackles but retreats willingly, still riding the high of his time in the spotlight, as Lucanis nudges for control again. He grasps Rook’s hand to press a swift kiss to the back of it as the telltale rumbling of a golem approaches across the arena. Brown eyes meet amber through dark lashes as he bows over their joined hands.

“I believe this next dance is mine.”

A rapidly approaching eruption of rock forces them to dart away from each other to safety, but he delights in the unmistakable heat in Rook’s eyes before they parted.

They battle together seamlessly, one moment they’re close, watching each other's backs, before breaking apart to flank, striking at opposing points with unspoken knowledge of what the other was planning. Ducking and weaving around each other with practiced ease, they evade the flailing strikes of the mountain of rock. Every now and then between precise slashes of their blade, Rook would release a burst of magic, setting him up beautifully for a punishing blow.

The golem was faltering under their combined force, the magic holding it together waning. Its strikes were becoming more erratic as its form started to crumble. He shared a brief look with Rook before he leapt into the air with the aid of Spite’s wings, the flash of understanding was instant and they grinned as they ducked low, sweeping out its legs with a combination of blade and magical barrage. He dove down as it crumpled to the ground, blade spearing through what would be the neck with brutal force.

With a last grating rumble, the magical glow around the golem sputtered out, leaving Lucanis to hop down gracefully from the back of the now inanimate pile of rubble.

Rook pulls him into the centre of the arena, hyping up the eager crowd with wide sweeps of their arms before taking a final bow. But there’s a strange urgency and determination as they grip his arm to lead him back into the tunnel they entered the arena through. An urgency soon explained. The moment they’re out of sight in the shadows of the tunnel, he’s being pressed to the wall and devoured in a heated kiss, one that he returns with equal fervor.

They break away enough to gasp for breath and rasp huskily against his lips, “Gods, I love watching you fight.”

Lucanis slips a hand into the opening of their shirt to clutch at their waist, their skin fever warm from exertion even through the leather of his gloves, pulling them in closer as their lips slot back together. A nibble at his lips provokes a heated groan and he parts them willingly so their tongues can tangle together, exploring and working against each other with just as much enthusiasm, if far less finesse, than their bodies had during the fight.

They’re both panting, lips spit slick and reddened, by the time they part. Rook gently sorts out Lucanis’ hair from where they’d mussed it with their fingers, while Lucanis pulls Rook's shirt back into place. Rook takes him by the hand once they’re finished making sure they’re both looking more presentable.

“We should probably go collect our winnings before they start to wonder where we’ve gone.”

Rook swings their arms gently between them as they make their way back up to the main area of the Hall of Valour.

“We could use it to buy some fresh seafood on our way back, you haven’t had my paella yet.”

“Well if you’re making it, I’m sure it’s delicious. To the Rivaini markets it is. Fresh seafood always reminds me of home.”

[raikiriwolfwrites]

Bitterness, Sweetened by Your Lips

Viago has news, Spite asks for help, and bonds are strengthened.

Enby RookxLucanis

Chapter 9 - Inner Demons

Read on AO3

“Rook. You’re here.”

“Is something wrong?”

“Viago and Teia sent word. They have information…about Illario. Whatever it is, they wish to speak away from Treviso. Away from anyone who might be listening. They won’t put more to paper. I need to meet with them. As soon as possible.”

-----

The Cobbled Swan is dim and silent, cleared out of staff and patrons, only the distant bustle of the streets outside disturbing the quiet. As they approach, two cloaked figures slip out of the shadows by the bar, lowering their hoods to greet them properly.

Rook could feel Lucanis coiled tight beside them so decided to take the lead with pleasantries for now. They glanced over the pair with a muted smile, pleased to see them, even though not under the best circumstances “Teia, Viago. Thank you for setting this up. You found something? About Illario?”

Were he not a trained professional he looks like he might have been shifting uncomfortably. There was a tightness to his expression that belied his ease to those looking close enough. “Possibly.”

Lucanis looks between them sharply. “What do you mean, ‘possibly’? You have something, or you don’t.”

Teia steps in smoothly, as straightforward as ever. “It’s Caterina.”

The tension in Lucanis frame winds impossibly tighter, Viago glances warily between him and Teia. “We don’t know that for certain.”

“Tell me.”

“I’ve got my eyes on Villa Dellamorte. One of them brought back one of Caterina’s rings.”

“It had been thrown out with the trash. Illario would never do that. He’d at least pawn it somewhere.”

Rook quickly reads between the lines Teia and Viago are laying out, humming thoughtfully. “You think Caterina threw the ring away as a message that she’s inside the house.”

Teia turns to Lucanis, eyes bright. “Her opal ring, Lucanis, you know what that means!”

His eyes widen, scrutinising Teia’s face for any hint of a lie. Finding none, his head snaps to Rook. Their confusion must be written all over their face as he softens slightly and explains. “She gave that ring to my mother. It was a mark of her favour. House Velardo killed my parents and sent it back to Caterina to demand she surrender the seat of First Talon. She’s alive. Illario, you idiot.”

“We need more eyes in the Villa to say for certain.”

Lucanis starts pacing a short, agitated path, taking only a few steps before pivoting back the way he came. Rook can see him spiralling, getting tangled up in racing thoughts, and wants to reach out to him, but isn’t sure how welcome it would be right now. “Illario would tear the city apart searching, if he’d lost this. How could she be alive? What is he thinking? How am I supposed to deal with this?”

“We need to plan a rescue! The sooner we get Caterina out of there, the better.”

“It could be a trap. We have to deal with Illario first.”

“He could still kill her if we move against him. Maker knows what’s in his head.”

“Vi, you’re too pessimistic for your own good. Reason with him, Lucanis.”

“I thought I had a clear shot at my target! What if I go after him and get Caterina killed?”

Lucanis stopped suddenly, head jerking towards Rook; they eye him with concern, only to be met with the glowing violet eyes of Spite instead of his usual warm brown. Teia and Viago start to fade away in their peripheral vision as he speaks, the ambient noise of the Cobbled Swan and the city outside becoming muffled and distant.

“Help us.”

Rook wasn’t sure what they were expecting, but a distressed plea wasn’t it. They felt a frisson of unease creeping up their spine that something made Spite so desperate as to take control here.

“How? What do you need?”

“He’ll listen! He always listens to you. Come!”

Spite almost seemed to walk through them and they couldn’t help the full body shiver, scrunching their eyes shut from the strange feeling as they felt a shift in the world around them.

-----

They blinked their eyes open a second later to be greeted by somewhere horrifyingly familiar. Only the hint of magic in the air wasn’t the stale metallic tang of blood magic, but something more akin to the Fade. The reassurance that it wasn’t the real Ossuary didn’t detract from the bitter memories of the prison, the entryway they used to access it on their way to free Lucanis surrounded them, a slightly disjointed simulacrum of the real world as the Fade often was.

How did Spite pull them here? Why? They call out to the eerily silent air.

“What did you do? Is this the Fade? It seems…different.” They glance back down, muttering more to themself. “It isn’t like those fragments of Solas’ past in the Crossroads, either.”

They feel the tingle of Spite’s presence behind them, stronger than usual and turn to be faced with…Lucanis?

No.

That purple glow and magical energy is all Spite.

They reach out a tentative hand to his cheek and are shocked when it makes contact with skin, slightly cooler than Lucanis runs and a distinct magical tingle of the Fade beneath their fingers, but solid and real.

“Spite? You’re actually here?”

They cup his face in both hands and can’t help the fondness bubbling up in their chest as he nuzzles into their palm like a cat. He sniffs at Rook's palm and sighs softly.

”Lightning and salt. Like a storm at sea. Safe.”

The spark of warmth in their chest is swiftly drowned out by the tight, constricting worry banded around it.

“Are you all right? Where’s Lucanis?”

”Lucanis is here. Always. Behind locked doors. I can’t break through.”

His voice sounds different without Lucanis’ layered over the top, and it seems less strained here, not having to fight an unfamiliar corporeal form to shape the words. He grips one of Rook’s hands as he pulls away and tugs sharply, urging them forward. They acquiesce easily.

“All right, let’s go get him.”

Spite releases their palm as they drop down from the ledge, but stays close like a shadow as they make their way along the path further into the prison.

“Useless. All of this. Utterly useless.” Calivan’s voice echoes around them, sourceless and shifting, mocking and cruel. “I was supposed to have a useful demon, and instead I have a useless abomination. Wonderful.”

Spite snarls at the voice and Rook almost wishes they could kill him again as the memories of the horrors committed here are made fresh at the sight of barren cells and spattered blood stains. They turn to Spite as a distraction, hoping to glean more of an understanding of what’s actually going on.

“So this place is the Ossuary. The prison we freed you and Lucanis from.”

”‘Freed’? No. We’ve always been here.”

That’s a concerning thought. But maybe something better dealt with once they have Lucanis back.

“Right. It’s not the real Ossuary. But it doesn’t seem like a memory either. Lucanis is in here somewhere, right? He’s…what? Where they kept his blood?”

Spite nods sharply. “Yes. Go there. But. The locks. Everywhere. I can’t touch them.”

“How do I get past the locks? Turn myself into a mouse? Fight a bunch of giant spiders?”

“By getting past the guards. It’s a prison.”

They sigh and make a mental note to help Lucanis teach Spite about jokes when they’re free of this place.

“Right. What was I thinking?”

They step through the swirling Fade portal ahead, Spite hot on their heels.

-----

“Still fighting? How tiresome. There’s no point, you know. Nothing awaits you anymore. You’re long dead.”

Zara’s saccharine croon resounds from further down the corridor, it looks like the entrance to where they found Lucanis imprisoned the first time around. They increase their pace, worried at what they’ll find ahead, only to come to a stop in an empty space. It’s clearly meant to be his cell, the fractured icy crystal jutting from the corner so much like the one Lucanis broke free from a few short months ago. Card tables sit abandoned at the edges of the room. They glance around warily before turning to Spite.

“Nobody’s here.”

Spite cocks his head at Rook, confusion evident across his features.

“Of course not. Rook can’t be here.”

Well now it was Rook’s turn to be confused.

“Me? Why not?”

“Rook was the first. Who didn’t hurt. You open doors. You don’t close them.”

He said it like it was so obvious, simply a fact of the world, and warm affection curls around their heart. They cannot help but smile and reach out to give Spite’s arm a gentle squeeze.

“Well, let’s go open some more doors then.”

-----

The next Fade portal takes them deeper into the Ossuary. Where once they had cut down swathes of Venatori, now only echoes of their cruelty remained.

“Ah, yes, the Crow. You will learn to regret your crimes against the Venatori.”

“You should be grateful to give your life for the magister’s research. What an honour!”

Rook shook off their disgust at their sneering voices and looked around the room. Papers were scattered across tables around the room and they felt something drawing them towards the nearest one. A sound almost like faint whispers, something tugging them forward from a place deep behind their ribs. As they drew closer the whispers started to sound more like Lucanis, but the words were unclear.

Looking across the papers on the surface, some were unintelligible scribbles, others vague strings of words, like tangled thoughts put to paper. The note they felt the pull towards was written in Lucanis’ neat, sloping hand.

She gave that ring to my mother. It was the mark of her favour. House Velardo killed my parents and sent it back to Caterina…

As they read, the whispers solidified into Lucanis’ voice, but the ghost of it sounded smaller than Rook had ever heard it.

“So few of us left…”

The whisper tapered off, the source of the sound shifting, moving away towards another table. Rook followed the trail of his soft voice to find two similar notes, fragments of his thoughts and fears manifested before them.

…but were more like brothers. Caterina took us both in…

“All we had left.”

What if I go after him and get Caterina killed…

“All I have left…”

“Oh, Lucanis…” Rook whispers sadly.

They turn back to the room to find Spite glaring down at a shadowed mass near the exit. As they move closer the shadows coalesce into the stern figure of Caterina Dellamorte. She turns her disapproving gaze to them.

“Rook, did you forget our deal? You were to bring my grandson back to me.”

“I…did?”

“You brought me an abomination! Where is my grandson?”

Rook glances to their left as they hear a deep inhale from Spite beside them. “Tenderness and terror. Rage and relief. Old, stale fear of disappointment.”

“This is the Fade, so this Caterina is…a spirit? Something like that?”

“No. Lucanis is mine. They won’t dare. Thoughts live here. Ideas. Feelings.”

Understanding dawned. “She’s his idea of Caterina, then.” They face her again, shoulders squared and determined. “Caterina? Lucanis is trapped. But I think you’re part of his way out. He’s still the grandson you raised.” They held their tongue on what they really thought about how she raised him, this figment of Caterina hadn’t earned that ire, and Lucanis didn’t need that right now. “But he feels like he disappointed you, it weighs him down. You need to free him from that burden.”

“You want to free a demon?” She scoffs.

“You sent me to free him because you love your grandson. Lucanis is the furthest thing from a disappointment. You wouldn’t reject him now, when you know he’s not to blame for any of this, would you?”

Rook hopes that wherever Lucanis is, he can hear their words. That he can understand how true they are.

Caterina’s stern facade crumbles.

“My poor boy…”

Her voice fades away as her form dissipates, the shadows reforming into a glowing red barrier crystal.

Spite looks eagerly between Rook and the crystal. They take that as a cue to draw their blade, striking deep into the heart of it, shattering it into a scattered red mist.

“Promoted from flying vermin to malicious spirit. Whatever will you become next, I wonder?”

Zara’s mocking voice follows them as they step up to the portal forming in the doorway. Rook walks through without a backward glance.

-----

“Magister Zara was far more benevolent than you deserved, Crow.”

The pathway up to the Warden’s tower is littered with debris, papers are scattered here too. Rook inspects them as they pass, hearing that familiar whispering pull towards a small cluster of them.

I shouldn’t have let myself fall asleep. Thai was my mistake…

“Spite is here.”

If I cannot stay in control…

“Spite is waiting.”

You’d have to kill me…

“And Spite would die.”

Rook looks towards Spite as the last whisper of Lucanis’ voice fades away. He might be hard to read, but he wears Lucanis’ face, one Rook is very familiar with by now, and they can catch the sadness behind the determined cast of his features.

“Always here. Can’t. Leave.”

His voice is quiet. Rook closes the short distance between them and pulls him into a firm hug.

“Once we get Lucanis out, we’ll figure this all out, for both of you.”

A familiar voice from the open space at the end of the corridor startles them apart.

“Don’t worry, Rook. I’ve got my eye on the prisoner.”

“Harding?”

They walk closer to peer at the figure curiously. She stands there, bow at the ready, enchanted arrow nocked, face battle hardened and sure.

“You’ve conjured up a friendly face, Lucanis. But your real friends and allies need you, in the real world.”

She looks at them incredulously. “Rook, are you sure Spite isn’t tricking you? What if there’s no Lucanis - just the demon?”

“After a year in the Ossuary, you might believe that, but you’re no demon. I know you, and I know Spite, there’s absolutely no mistaking you for anything but the man that you are.”

“Look around. This isn’t the mind of a human being, let alone an Antivan Crow.”

“You’re the man you were, Lucanis, even buried in this pain. No demon would punish itself like this. We can’t always control our thoughts, fears, doubts… But they aren’t us. Your choices, your actions—that’s who you are.”

Harding looks unsure, but she lowers her bow to her side nonetheless.

“You really shouldn’t trust anything you find in the Fade.”

“I trust you, Luca, and I trust us to get you home. Let me.”

“You know that’s the kind of attitude that’s going to get you killed, right?”

Her voice is still uneasy but she’s returned the arrow to her quiver as she cocks her hip into a more relaxed stance. Rook can’t help but grin as they speak more to the air than Harding.

“I’ll risk it. I have a master assassin on my side. Don’t I?”

“Just…be careful.”

Like Caterina, her form dissipates and reforms into a barrier crystal. Rook shatters it without hesitation.

-----

The open space before them beckons them forward. Calivan’s voice echoes sourcelessly around the arena where they and Lucanis once defeated him.

“Couldn’t you simply die already? This experiment has gone on for far too long.”

The board at the back is new though, familiar, but out of place here. Rook walks over, peering closer at it. Lucanis’ scattered thoughts put to ink are pinned up on the board like evidence. Every page cuts deeper into Rook’s heart as it puzzles together more pieces of Lucanis’.

…there aren’t words enough to apologise…

“I cannot be this.”

I was distracted. That cannot happen again. I need to get my head on straight…

“I’m better than this.”

I didn’t want you to see that. Again…

“I’m not this. I cannot be this.”

The anguish in his voice reminds Rook of the fight against Illario beneath the chantry. He sounds so broken and helpless, Rook needs to reach him so they can take him out of this place and never let him go.

A familiar uneven gait approaches from behind. The distinctive alternating click of a boot heel and clink of metal heralding the arrival of Neve. She peers around Rook’s shoulder at the board curiously, before glancing up at them.

“Hey, Rook. Should you be here? Can’t say it’s the safest place in the world.”

“Strangeness and charm. Something familiar and foreign at the same time. With a little guilt.”

Rook leans away from the board to look past Neve at Spite, curious. “Somehow I thought Lucanis would think of Neve as being more…Tevinter?”

He cocks his head. “Tevinter? People come in three kinds. Family. Enemies. Contracts.”

“I hope that’s just you talking.” When they get him out, they’re going to make sure that he knows that he has friends too. Although a small part of Rook can’t help but selfishly hope that Lucanis considers them family. Shaking off that thought they face the next guard. “Neve, you need to let us pass.”

She fixes him with a look, knowing and laced with a trace of pity. “You know how he is. Even if you open the door, Lucanis won’t walk through it. This is where he wants to be.”

“If he just needs help to see that there’s another choice, then that’s why I’m here. However long that takes. I can handle the real you, Lucanis, and I will wait as long as you need.”

“You really think you can help him? You’re such a sap, Rook.”

Rook smiles at Neve’s teasing before their face settles into determination. “Only for him. I think it’s time you stood aside and let me try.”

She smiles faintly as she too dissipates, replaced with the blood red crystal that shatters swiftly under Rook’s fist.

-----

Rook’s skin crawls as the blood vault forms around them. The memory of walls of blood vials stacked up like wine in a cellar, the casual irreverence towards the lives of those the Venatori consider their lessers, sparks a long simmering hatred. The rot that eats away at the roots of their home from the shadows, something they had long fought against.

Illario’s echoing voice jolts them out of their thoughts.

“Caterina was First Talon. This is Crow business. We can handle it.”

Spite snarls at the sound of his voice and Rook feels their own mouth curling in distaste. Lucanis had said they were like brothers. And yet Illario could betray him so deeply for a title.

More of Lucanis scattered thoughts and memories littered the walkway and Rook trails fingers over the shifting ink softly.

What is he thinking? How am I supposed to deal with this…

“What have you done?”

She came after me. She came after Caterina. She will come for you, too…

“Cousin, what about you?”

Illario’s smug face greets them as they drop down the short ledge at the end of the corridor. He saunters forward from where he had been leaning casually against the bench behind him. The spot where Lucanis’ blood had been held, the leash by which the Venatori kept him ensnared, now replaced by his flesh and blood, the one who had set the trap.

“Rook… you’re too good to be wasting your time in a place like this. Forget about my cousin. You’ve got much more important things to worry about, don’t you? You’ve got the weight of the world on your shoulders.”

Illario’s facade of ease and flattery hadn’t worked on Rook when they first met and sat even more bitterly on their tongue now. Spite looks like he wants to lash out at the facsimile of Illario, held back only by the knowledge that he can’t touch him no matter how hard he tries. And Rook has no doubt that he has tried. They place a placating hand on Spite’s shoulder.

“Save your anger for the real one. We’ll get a chance to make him pay soon enough.”

That seems to settle him enough, he shakes his head with a growl before zeroing in on Illario again, taking a deep inhale as he narrows his eyes at him.

“Sharp. Jagged edges. Hurt with every breath. Grief and relief. Hope and anger. Mixed.”

“Lucanis, you don’t owe Illario a second thought, much less a supporting role.”

“He. Put. Us. Here.”

“You’ve got to leave this be, Rook. You turn my cousin loose, it’s only going to cause more grief.”

“I think it will be Illario feeling that grief. Right, Lucanis?”

“You know that Caterina had five children? Eight grandchildren. All dead now, except for Lucanis and me. Last time the Crows fought a war of succession, House Dellamorte lost everything. Except the seat of First Talon. This time we fight ourselves. What will be left then? You think you’ll survive? Your friends? Your cause?”

“You know him, Lucanis. Even here, Illario just wants to save his own neck. You fight yourselves only because he drew the first blade, but was too cowardly to wield it against you himself.”

“A year he spent in this hole. In darkness. Dreaming of escape. Just to come home to kill his family for a job he never wanted. Do you really think he made a deal with a demon? He’s not even a mage! Or do you think, maybe, he just found the one there already? He’ll carry this prison with him forever, and he’ll fill it with corpses, given time.”

“We. Need. Out.”

“You’re an Antivan Crow, Lucanis. A professional. Trained to avoid collateral damage and go after the real enemy. I know the man that you are, how much you look after those you care about. You don’t need someone like Illario in your head spreading doubt.”

“You have no idea what the consequences will be.”

“Whatever they are, Lucanis, I’ll be there to help you. Our friends will be there. Illario only has his deranged cultists who will turn on him the second he stops being useful. If he wants to speak of consequences, he’d better be ready for his when we get out of here.”

Illario vanishes with a bitter sneer. A scrap of paper slipping off the table behind him in the shift of air from his departure.

We’re more like brothers. Caterina took us both in…

“We’re brothers.”

Rook reads Lucanis’ elegant script with a heavy heart.

“I’m sorry, Lucanis.”

One last fading whisper of Illario’s voice follows them out the doorway.

“If I were in charge, you wouldn’t have to do this anymore.”

-----

The large central chamber at the base of the tower looms ahead: tools, tables, and the carelessly scattered mess of old bones surround the main area, the remains of the brutality that took place here. Rook has seen many of the scars across Lucanis’ skin; they’ve yet to ask, but they can tell the difference between the slash or stab of a blade in battle and the precise cuts of methodical cruelty. Both litter his skin, and the thought of him strapped to one of these tables while Zara and her lackeys work makes them shudder.

They shake it off stubbornly. He’s physically free of this place, and Zara got what was coming to her. But now they need to free Lucanis from this place mentally, undo it stone by stone if they have to.

They glance around, scanning the space for any sign of their lost Crow. Spite sniffs the air and grips their hand, tugging sharply towards the far side of the chamber. As they draw closer a familiar raven head of hair comes into view over the edge of a table.

They rush around and drop to their knees in front of where he’s curled up, back pressed against the bench. Hands hover over him helplessly for a moment, unsure whether touch would be welcome but wanting to gather him close and know that he’s real and he’s safe.

“Luca?”

He raises his head from his knees at the soft question. His eyes are sharp and cautious as he takes in his surroundings. Bone deep weariness being replaced by open surprise when he sees Rook. He reaches out, slowly as if he thinks he might be hallucinating, just waiting for his hand to pass right through. When his palm meets warm skin he lights up. Rook takes that as all the permission they need to finally touch, pulling him up to his knees and into a crushing embrace.

Lucanis sinks into their hold, tension draining from his frame at the comforting touch. He buries his face in Rook’s neck, voice muffled where he speaks into their skin.

“What are you doing here, Rook?”

They press a kiss to the feather soft hair at the crown of his head, breathing in the familiar scent of his soaps and oils. The knotted mass of worry in their chest loosens slightly now that he’s back in their arms. “I had to find you. If anything happened to you… I can’t even think about it.”

They feel him start to tense up again, muscles bunching beneath his skin as he shifts and they reluctantly let him pull away, concern creasing his features.

“You should go. It’s better I stay here than risk losing you.”

Spite makes himself known, looming over the pair of them huddled on the floor. He jabs at Lucanis, frustrated and accusatory.

“You see? He breaks. Our agreement. His mind. Is still here. He wants. To stay here. So he keeps. Me here!”

Lucanis rises smoothly to his feet to meet Spite face to face and Rook rushes to follow as something clicks into place in their mind.

“Mierda! Why would I want to stay? Even in my head, this place is a nightmare!”

Rook places a hand on each of their chests, gently easing them further apart. They turn to Spite first.

“So this is what you meant when you wanted out? The Ossuary was still real to you here. I’m sorry I couldn’t understand and help you sooner.”

He nods jerkily, voice small. “Always. Here. Want out.”

They slide their hand down from Spite’s chest to take his hand, squeezing it reassuringly as they face Lucanis. The other hand they move to cup his jaw, stroking along the edge of his beard with their thumb.

“Lucanis…this place is a nightmare, but it’s one you’ve already defeated. I get it now. As bad as the Ossuary was for you, it was better than the alternative.”

He shakes his head in Rook’s palm, gesticulating wildly, frustration and exhaustion colouring his voice in equal measure. “What alternative?”

“The Ossuary, Zara—you could solve those problems with a blade. But healing again? Living as an abomination? There’s no simple answer there. And if you fail, you could hurt the ones you love.”

He backs away from them with a furrowed brow and they let their hand drop to their side in the now empty space, letting him pace out his anger.

“No! I…This is not…” he whirls back to face them. “Damn it, Rook.”

“Make. Him. Leave.”

“Our world is not like the Fade, Spite, and mortals aren’t like spirits. We can’t change ourselves as easily with a thought, it takes time, and work. He’s trying, but even though he left this prison, some of it stayed with him. But whether you like it or not you’re bound together now, and fighting him hurts you too.”

Spite growls in frustration, but it’s softer now, almost contrite. He shuffles closer towards Rook, still glaring at Lucanis but with none of the heat from before. Rook takes that as a success for now.

“If you want to get out of here, then we need to help him. That’s why you brought me here, isn’t it?”

Spite grumbles a reluctant affirmation, glaring down at the floor. Rook turns his attention back to Lucanis.

“Luca?”

He just looks tired now, face drawn and posture slumped. He steps haltingly back towards Rook, steps growing surer as he gets closer, like he doesn't have the energy to resist being pulled into their orbit any more. “Rook. You are right. There has to be a way through this. It’s just…so much. I cannot see how to begin”

His eyes are wide and glassy as he stares up at Rook, swirling with tumultuous emotions as he looks to them to anchor him in the storm. They take his hand and hold it tight, looking between man and demon; both wearing the same face and yet so different.

Settling on a course of action they speak, eyes flitting between the pair standing either side of them. “Start small, you and Spite. Figure out a goal you can both agree on, then make it happen.”

Spite perks up. “A contract?”

“Contracts are for clients. Call this…an alliance. But on what terms?”

“We need to stop Illario and save your grandmother, don’t we?”

“That’s true…”

“Fighting Crows?”

Spite’s eager now, bouncing on the balls of his feet at the thought of a battle. Rook can’t help but grin along with him.

Lucanis isn’t quite as eager as they are but nods an affirmative. “And anyone else that gets in our way.”

“Together. We will fight.”

“And punch that smug smirk off Illario’s face.”

Spite cackles gleefully. “Yes! Rook. Is. My. Favourite.”

Lucanis looks at them reproachfully, though not without a hint of fond amusement. “Illario…he’s a pain in the ass, Rook, but he’s still my family.”

“He. Put. Us. Here!”

Rook ignores Spite’s outburst to shrug unapologetically at Lucanis. “I never said, ‘Kill him.’ I just think he deserves at least a broken nose.” And worse. But that isn’t up to Rook, so they hold their tongue.

Lucanis rolls his eyes, but there’s a smile on his face now, and a newfound steadiness to his countenance that he had looked smaller without. He holds a hand out to Spite. “So. Do we have a deal, then? We’ll work together, free Caterina, and stop Illario?”

Spite clasps his wrist with a feral grin, his voice merging into Lucanis’ as he pulls him closer by their joined arms.

“He. Will not. Escape us both.”

Agreement firmly in place, Lucanis and Spite become one, the faint purple sheen of Spite’s magic settling over Lucanis comfortably like an ethereal shroud. There’s a determined violet glint simmering at the edges of his deep brown eyes as he reaches up to pull Rook into a quick kiss before the world around them starts to fade out.

-----

Lucanis blinks dazedly as the Cobbled Swan comes into focus around him. Viago and Teia are looking at them with pinched brows and narrowed eyes. He looks across to Rook just in time to catch the shift as their face perks up from the blank stare it had been set into.

Teia’s eyes widen from the scrutiny she had fixed on Rook, their eyes sharpening and attention honing in on her as they come back to themself. “Rook, are you all right?”

“What’s the matter with the two of you?”

Lucanis has known the pair of them long enough to hear the underlying concern in their voices and wonders what their little sojourn into his psyche looked like from the outside.

Rook looks at him with a warm smile before turning the full force of their disarming cheer on Teia. “It’s okay. We needed a moment, but I’d say we’re ready for anything.” Their grin falters slightly. “How long were we standing here?”

[raikiriwolfwrites]

Bitterness Sweetened by Your Lips

Zara's in Treviso, vengeance is at hand and familial ties are tested.

Enby RookxLucanis

Warning for Bloodbath mission

Chapter 8 - Blood and Bonds

Read on AO3

Rook was used to walking into a variety of situations in the dining hall. Various mixes of companions chatting, drinking, competing in some challenge someone had thought up, wisps rearranging things, Spite trying to eat things he shouldn’t, the list went on.

This was a new one.

They stepped into the dimly lit room to find Lucanis standing over a note on the table, expression dark and brooding, a small collection of knives embedded erratically into the table’s surface.

“This is ominous…”

“Viago found something.”

“Something bad, I take it?”

“Venatori in Treviso. Like I thought. One of them might know where Zara is. Viago has Crows watching them. We find them, we find Zara.”

Rook moves in closer and places a hand on his arm when he readily accepts them into his space. Their voice is filled with grim promise.

“Everything she did to you… We’ll make her pay, Luca. Side by side.”

They receive a small grateful look as he presses into the contact.

“We just have to get this done. I’m not losing anyone else. We’ll only get one shot at this. We’ll go when you’re ready.”

“We prepare tonight, and then head to Treviso first thing.”

-----

The walk through the crossroads was quiet. Lucanis was focused, drawn taut like a bowstring with anticipation.

Rook was the first to break the silence as they boarded the boat for the Caretaker to ferry them across the floating islands.

“Thank you for the dossier by the way, it’s good to know what we’re facing. If she is there, how many of her closest allies are likely to be in tow?”

Lucanis startled out of his brooding silence at Rook’s question.

“You read it?”

Rook seems confused at the surprise in his voice.

“Yes? You made it for me to read, didn't you… why wouldn’t I?”

“Illario never used to. He would just get me to tell him myself.”

They nudge his shoulder gently with their own where they sit pressed against him, voice a low rumble by his ear.

“Well if you want to read them to me in future, I’ll never complain about hearing your voice.”

Lucanis swats at their thigh lightly but he can’t deny the way the chuckle that elicits lightens his mood from the dark pit it had gone down thinking of Zara.

“Once we take down Zara, I’ll read you whatever you like.” His serious countenance returns. “But as for your question. I only listed the ones I personally know of, she would have at least a few of them with her at all times. If we come across one of them, then we’ll know she’s close.”

-----

Lucanis looked as surprised as Rook to see Illario standing across from them on the Treviso rooftops. They eyed him warily, glancing between the two Dellamortes. Illario had his usual confident, peacock facade in place, mirrored in his tone.

“I’m coming with you, cousin. No arguments.”

Rook is glad to see that Lucanis doesn’t agree with him. Something doesn’t seem right and they don’t want to be watching out for Venatori and Illario during this mission.

“This is my job.”

“This is Crow business.”

They don’t miss the dark look Illario throws their way at the mention of Crow business. Zara is Lucanis’ business, and that makes it Rook’s too, Crow or not. But they hold their tongue, this is his call to make.

“How did you even know we’d be here?”

“Rook! Always a pleasure. Touring the city with my cousin? You must allow me to show you the sights.” Illario deflects flirtatiously and Rook can’t help the bubbling unease growing in their gut at his behaviour, his words and tone unwanted and cloying.

They don’t have time to deal with this now. Zara is within reach and Lucanis deserves some closure. Their voice is hard, refusing to be drawn into Illario’s theatrics, now of all times.

“Lucanis told you not to come.”

“This isn’t your type of job cousin. There’s no one you can charm into dropping their guard. Only fanatics. All you can do is get yourself killed.”

That hit a nerve. They watch his mask start to crack around the edges, but he still holds it together admirably.

“You think I’m not good enough?”

“Are you?”

“Fine. Have it your way, cousin. You know best.”

“Let’s go, Rook. Zara is waiting.”

Rook casts one final look back at Illario as they make their way over the rooftop and catch a dark glower aimed at their backs before his more affable mask slots into place when he sees Rook looking, sending them off with a smirk and a cheery wave. It unsettles them, but Illario is a problem to deal with after Zara is dead.

-----

Lucanis grimaces and pinches his brow. “Blood magic nearby. A lot of it.”

He feels a hand smooth over the back of his head and a faint wash of Rook’s magic soothes the worst of the ache. He shoots them a brief grateful smile before returning his attention to the solid door before them. Taking a deep, bracing breath, he reaches forward to push it open.

He almost wishes he didn’t.

The corridor beyond is dimly lit and littered with desiccated corpses tossed against the walls. The stench of decay is almost overpowering, settling thickly in the stagnant air.

“How nice of Zara to leave a trail for us to follow.”

Even Rook’s usual levity is strained at the horrifying display before them. Neither of them were unfamiliar with the darker corners of the world, but the scale of this was beyond even the heedless cruelty of the power hungry magisters he usually faced.

They share a determined look before stalking down the corridor, side by side, blades drawn.

The bodies pile up higher the further they go, rotting husks carelessly thrown into every corner, and the tang of iron in the air grows stronger amidst the fetid decay. Lucanis presses a hand to the final door. The source of the blood magic is on the other side. The backs of his eyes ache fiercely at the proximity, despite Rook’s earlier help.

“She’s here.”

A hint of Spite’s growl is present in his voice, both of them itching to make. Her. Pay.

He feels the fleeting pressure of Rook’s hand on his lower back, and the reassurance that they’re in this with him strengthens his resolve further.

He pushes the door open.

He had seen more than his share of Venatori cruelty; until the Ossuary he had thought Forfex would be the worst. But Zara had outdone even the horrors and torment of those. The sheer number of bodies outside should have been a clue, but the size of the blood pool sitting in the centre of the room was staggering and horrifying in equal measure. How many had died here to fuel Zara’s cruel ambition. It didn’t matter. There wouldn’t be any more once they were done here.

At the sound of the door creaking open, she turned to them with a smile, rising from the crimson depths like it was a pleasant bath. A layer of blood clung to her like a grotesque mockery of armour as she waded out to the shallows of the pool to greet them.

“Lucanis. It’s terribly uncivilised to drop in on a lady unannounced. Now the evening’s ruined.”

Rook spoke up from beside him, their voice lacking any of its usual warmth. A cold fury to contrast with his and Spite’s blistering rage. “You’re going to pay for everything you’ve done.”

“Spoken like a true peasant.”

“You’re mine Zara! This ends with my knife through your heart!”

He lunges, blades first, wings bursting from his back to thrust him forward with a vengeance. They connect with a clash as Zara summons her own blades from the blood around her, but the force pushes them both further into the pool as the fight begins in earnest.

-----

Rook’s thighs were aching from wading through the blood surrounding them, the only consolation that as the fight wore on it became easier, Zara’s supply growing thinner as she channelled more and more of it to keep up with Lucanis’ unending flurry of blades. The pool was down to a sticky film lining the space, clinging weakly to the bottom of their boots as they kept the latest wave of Venatori off Lucanis’ back so he could focus on Zara.

As they stunned the final warrior with a blast of lightning from their orb long enough to slit his throat, they watched the match between Lucanis and Zara drag on. His sword was gone, a lone dagger still swiping and stabbing at her ferociously. But she was weakening, without any blood left to fuel her she was growing sloppy and desperate, it would only take one momentary lapse for Lucanis to slip through her defenses.

She was fending him off so desperately now that she didn’t seem to notice all her backup was gone, and Rook took the opportunity to slip around behind her. They took aim and fired one last chain of lightning into her back, her dwindling barrier shattered under the force and the lightning coursed through her. She seized in place, weapons clattering uselessly to the floor as her muscles twitched helplessly. That was all the window Lucanis needed. With a snarl he gripped her by the throat and hurled her into the nearest pillar. She cried out, collapsing into a crumpled heap at the base.

Gone was the facade of youthful beauty. All her energy spent in the battle left her with nothing to fuel her glamour. She looked older, more frail, as she tried to find her feet, clutching at the pillar to help support her as Lucanis stalked closer. The strength to fight in her gone, she turned to words to try and weasel her way out of her fate.

“So serious, Lucanis! Why don’t we talk? I can tell you much about Venatori…and our pet Crows.”

Spite reared his head, no interest in pretty words, he was here for their vengeance. “No. I want. Her heart. Quivering. On our knife.”

“You want to know who betrayed you, don’t you? Who sent you to the Ossuary?”

Her words were enough to bring Lucanis back, but there was an obvious strain clipping his voice. “Talk.”

“I knew you were–”

A dark shadow drops down from the ceiling, cutting Zara off. A familiar figure in crow leathers.

“Illario!”

He spares Lucanis a fleeting glance before advancing on Zara. “I told you. This is Crow business.”

Zara’s face changes from the scared pleading she had thinly veiled behind bravado, to a look of almost relief? “Amatu—“

He whips out a hand and the crunch of her neck snapping stops her finishing the word, but it was enough to make Rook’s blood run cold.

Amatus?

“No! Mine!”

Spite’s howl of rage echoes around the chamber, jolting Rook back to the present situation. With a violent snap of his wings, Spite throws Illario off his feet, the concussive shock whipping the air around them. He leaps onto Illario’s prone form, eyes blazing with otherworldly fury as he snarls, knife aimed straight for his throat.

Illario manages to hold him back with an arm braced against Spite’s blade arm, but it trembles under the strain.

Rook watches helplessly as the blazing violet in his eyes flickers, Lucanis struggling to regain control of his body. Spite is too strong in his rage, there’s a hint of brown irises in the glow as he turns beseeching to Rook. “Get Illario…out!”

“What? No!” They take a hesitant step forward, not sure how to intervene, but desperately wanting to help Lucanis.

“Rook. I can’t.”

The desperation in his face and voice is heartbreaking, drawn tight with pain and the strain of trying to hold Spite back. His cry of pain shoots straight through Rook’s heart.

“That’s enough!”

Illario roars as his free hand comes up to the brooch on his chest, with a sickly flare of red Lucanis is thrown off him. There’s only the faintest limning of purple around Lucanis’ eyes now as he collapses on his back, trembling and panting heavily.

“Lucanis!”

Illario gets swiftly to his feet, Lucanis raising himself up on unsteady arms as Rook starts to run over. Before they can reach him, they watch as Illario raises a hand, the same red haze surrounding his palm as he directs it at Lucanis.

“Relent.”

Rook drops to their knees, sliding the last few feet across blood-slicked stone to catch Lucanis as he flops back towards the ground like a puppet with cut strings. Rook pulls Lucanis into their lap, cradling his head gently. The feel of him still breathing, pulse slow, but strong, loosens the vice that had tightened around their chest. Sure that Lucanis was ok for now, they shoot a sharp look at Illario.

“What did you do to him?”

“Nothing. I don’t know what happened any better than you. You have to get him out of here. Rook. Keep him away. From Treviso. From the Crows. He’s a danger to the family.”

They narrow their eyes at him, how could he possibly try to play the innocent card after what they just saw. The feel of Lucanis stirring in their arms cuts off their sharp retort. They hear Illario’s footsteps retreating as their focus returns to the man below them, he can be dealt with later.

They cup Lucanis’ face, smearing some blood on his cheek in the process, as his eyelids start to flutter. His eyes slit open, brows furrowed, mouth parting as a weak “Rook?” escapes his lips. The relief that whatever Illario did to him didn’t seem to have caused him too much harm was too much and they can’t help but surge forward and claim his lips with their own. They feel Lucanis reciprocating weakly before they pull away. His eyes seem brighter but everything that happened must have taken its toll. He groaned softly, swaying where he had started to sit himself more upright, before his eyes rolled back and he went lax again in Rook’s arms.

After giving him a quick once over, their basic healing magic enough to confirm there was nothing more serious; they ascertained that physically he was fine, if exhausted, and carried him over to the less blood-soaked tile near the door. laying him gently down before scanning the room.

They walk around the space, searching the Venatori nearby in case they had any more information about where they were holed up in Treviso, find Lucanis’ lost sword where it had skittered into a corner during the fight and pick it up, and return to where he’s laying on the floor.

They wipe the blades down on a Venatori robe as they pass before slotting his sword and dagger into their sheaths. Everything safely in place, they gently gather him up into their arms. Thankfully the Crow roads would keep them mostly out of the public eye, they were sure to make quite a sight carrying an unconscious Dellamorte and with the amount of blood still dripping from the both of them.

Cradling Lucanis’ body securely to their chest they start to make their way back to the Diamond. Teia would be able to send someone to collect Zara and clear up the rest of her mess. They just needed to get Lucanis back to the safety of the Lighthouse so he could rest.

-----

After a brief explanation to the others, Rook got Lucanis to the pantry. He remained a dead weight, not even Spite stirring, as Rook went about stripping him of his armour, cleaning off the worst of the blood, and getting him into something more comfortable to put him to bed.

Unwilling to stray too far until they knew he was alright, they cleaned themself up quickly and settled at the foot of the cot, back against the wall. Rook had snagged a well worn romance novel from Lucanis’ small bookshelf to keep them entertained while they waited, but between the exhaustion of the day fighting across Treviso and worry over Lucanis and Spite, they were drained. They hadn’t made it more than a few pages into the book before it was falling into their lap from lax fingers, the sound of Lucanis’ soft, even breaths in the warmth of the small room lulling them to sleep.

-----

Rook awoke to the smell of coffee, their cheek pressed to warm fabric over something more solid than a pillow. In fact the warmth spread down their whole left side. The coffee scent grew stronger as their pillow shifted, the sounds of quiet sips and a soft sigh of pleasure washing over them.

“Lucanis?”

Rook stays where they’re resting against him, despite the slight crick in their neck, but snakes an arm around his waist to hold him closer.

“Hmmm?”

“You’re awake.”

“Yes.”

He pauses, Rook opens their eyes to the dim candlelit room as they feel Lucanis tensing beneath them, but he eventually continues.

“I’ve been trying to figure out what to say to you. And…there aren’t enough words to apologise. I never wanted you to see me like that.”

They squeeze their arm around him tighter. “And yet, I’m still here.”

They lapse into a comfortable silence for a while as Lucanis finishes his coffee and Rook relishes in having him conscious and close.

Eventually he places his cup off to the side with a weary sigh and Rook finally relinquishes his shoulder to stretch their neck out and face him properly. He looks troubled, a familiar crease gracing his brow.

“We need to talk about Illario.”

Illario. Rook tries to keep the disdain from their voice as they recall what he had said before he fled.

“…He wants you to stay away from the Crows. He…thinks you’re a danger to your family.”

“He’s not wrong. If I cannot stay in control. He used blood magic to control Spite.”

“You’re both feeling fine now though?”

He nodded and patiently accepted Rook’s scrutiny before they continued.

“He’s not a mage, how could he be using magic?”

“I don’t know, but…something’s not right.”

“That night you were captured, did Illario know you were boarding that ship?”

“Yes.”

“I didn’t say anything because he’s your cousin, but…I’ve had a bad feeling about him ever since that first meeting when we went to recruit you and Caterina told us you were still alive.”

“For his sake, let’s hope you’re wrong.”

“Zara is dead. After everything she did to me. To us! It should have been my knife that finished this. Illario denied me that.”

Rook took a deep breath, Zara had given them something that solidified their niggling distrust of Illario, and they needed to tell him.

“Lucanis…I know you’ve done a lot of work in Tevinter, how much Tevene do you know?”

“Well the people I’m visiting aren’t usually happy to see me, so mostly insults I imagine.”

The change of topic seemed to bemuse him and Rook almost didn’t want to say what they heard. But Lucanis deserved to know.

“Before he killed her, Zara called Illario Amatus…”

He cocked his head in thought. “That’s not one I know, what does it mean?”

They moved in closer, cupping the side of his face gently.

“I’ve never said it out loud, but it’s what you are to me. It’s what you call a lover, or a romantic partner.” They watch the emotions flit across his face, ending in a bitter understanding. “I’m so sorry Lucanis, but I think he’s the one who betrayed you to Zara, and how the Venatori made it into Treviso so easily.”

“Illario, what have you done?”

“Whatever it is, I’ll be there to help you fix it.”

Lucanis tangled a hand in their hair to pull them close and brushed a soft kiss against their lips.

“Thank you, Rook.”

[raikiriwolfwrites]

Psa For anyone following my fic - it’s very narratively important that you know that Rook’s shirt is at least this open at all times, regardless of what they’re wearing.

If the armour covers up the tiddies, they don’t want it.

Thank you for coming to my ted talk

[raikiriwolfwrites]

Bitterness, Sweetened by Your Lips

Spite's attempted wanderings are thwarted, and Rook is called in to help.

Enby RookxLucanis

Chapter 7 - Disquieted Demons

Read on AO3

The knock on their door is a welcome distraction from the increasingly dire sounding missives from the south. It’s Harding who pops her head around the door, but the look on her face says she’s not here to lift their mood.

“Harding. What’s up?”

Grimacing, she replies. “Spite’s back.”

They relaxed, that they could deal with. Harding pushed the door fully open as they approached and started leading them out.

“Ok, let me go talk to him. Was he trying to get through the eluvian again?”

“Maybe, but Taash caught him just as he was leaving the pantry and blocked him in there.”

Rook placed a hand on her shoulder as they reached the base of the stairs. “Stay here and watch the door just in case, but I’ll handle it.” Their reassurance seemed to ease her worries and she seemed content to curl up in a seat facing the door and wait.

-----

The sight of Lucanis sat on his cot in the pantry is a familiar one, the glowing eyes and outline of wings scorched into the wall behind him is not. Spite seems calm, although not happy about it, behaving himself under Taash’s watchful eyes. But Rook can see the agitation itching beneath his skin.

Taash doesn’t take their eyes off Spite as Rook walks in. “Demon’s back.”

“I don’t think he ever leaves, actually.”

Despite their familiarity and comfort with spirits, Taash still seems wary around Spite when he’s in full control. They send Rook a warning look as they move further into the pantry, closer to where he’s sitting.

“Then he’s acting weird.”

Spite sniffs the air in Taash’s direction, shifting on the cot. “Smells like…melon and woodsmoke.”

“Hey! No! No, sit your ass back down.”

Spite hisses, chafing at the command, but obeys nonetheless. His focus is now solely on Rook though, the violet glow trained on them intently. Rook turns back to Taash.

“I’ll handle this. Harding’s in the library watching the eluvian room. Maybe you should go help her.”

They shoot Taash a wink and catch a faint flush rise on their cheeks as they turn away. Taash gives a firm nod before marching out of the room, shutting the door behind them with a bang.

Safely alone, Rook faces Spite again and finds him on his feet and shockingly close.

“Now. We get to talk.”

“What’s wrong Spite?”

“Lucanis. Made a deal. He hasn’t kept.”

“What deal?”

“Break our chains. Kill. Escape our prison. And live.”

“Isn’t that what happened?”

“No! I want out!”

Rook was lost. This wasn’t just anger, there was desperation tinting Spite’s words. His movements were never as smooth as Lucanis’, still not as used to a physical body, but there was a manic, directionless energy to him that Rook didn’t like.

“Out to where? Spite, I know it’s hard for you but I can only help if you tell me what’s wrong. You want out? We can go somewhere. I’m sure I can persuade Lucanis to let you stretch your wings a bit.”

They try to reach out to him, help calm him down, but he jerks back, the violet haze over his eyes flickering violently.

“No! No! He promised!” Spite’s struggling and thrashing now, warring with an unseen force as Rook watches, helpless. “Tell him! Make him-“

With one final violent shudder, he uncurls and staggers back. Lucanis’ deep brown eyes are clouded with confusion as he winces and takes in his surroundings.

-----

Through the haze and jitters that wresting control back from Spite always leaves him with, he takes quick stock of his surroundings.

The pantry. Well, either Spite didn’t get far, or he came back for some reason. With no way of telling how much time he had lost it left him guessing.

A familiar figure stood before him, leaving him enough space to get his bearings without feeling crowded. As his eyes focus enough to see them clearly, the look of concern is unmistakable. He hated being the cause of it.

“Rook?”

“You were sleepwalking.”

How they could sound so cavalier about this was beyond him.

“Spite was sleepwalking.”

“He didn’t go anywhere. Nothing happened.”

He breathes a sigh of relief, one worry off his chest. He was still left with the feeling of disconnect that lingered after Spite’s wanderings. And what little mental capacity he had beyond that was awash with shame. He ran a tired hand down his face, rubbing at his eyes harshly.

“I didn’t want you to see that. Again.”

“Nothing I’m seeing makes me want to look away.”

Pulling his hand away, he stares at Rook with stunned disbelief. They were smiling at him softly. The private smile reserved only for him. As much as he cherished that look, it both lifted his spirits and made him feel unworthy to bask in it. How could they still look at him like that after seeing his lapse in control.

“How do you always do that?”

“Do what?”

“Break apart my perfectly gathered clouds of doom. You deserve better than to deal with my mess.”

You deserve better than a broken abomination.

“You’re more than what you’re going through. And you wear it well.”

The reassurance was honest, the words steady and deliberate, but he didn’t miss Rook’s appreciative glance that went along with their casual flirt as they lounged against the wall. The knot tightening in his stomach was a mass of conflicting heat and doubt. Rook had done so much for him, they deserved more from him than this.

It may never have been his preference, but seduction was a vital Crow skill, and he was nothing if not an excellent student. Shaking off his scattered thoughts he slipped into his role and let muscle memory take over.

He returns Rook’s heated glance. The movements come back to him like the well ingrained steps to a dance, trained into him as harshly as the rest of his skills. He prowls towards them, glancing up through his lashes as he comes to a stop. Close enough to tease, able to feel the heat radiating from their body. But not touching. Not yet. He lets his voice drop into a deep, seductive rumble.

“This isn’t a good idea.”

He brings an arm up to the wall next to them, leaning in. Not caging them in, but firmly invading their space with a practiced ease. The move brings them even closer, he knows they’ll see where his gaze is wandering as he drags his eyes slowly down to the open V of their shirt and back up to their eyes. There’s a familiar cheeky glint in them.

“Sometimes a bad idea is better.”

“You like to walk a little too close to the edge.”

Rook leans in, gaze smouldering. They run a finger down his chest, leaving a tingling trail through his clothes “So do you.”

“At least I know I’m doing it.”

He could hear Illario’s voice layering over his own as he spoke, empty words spoken in dark alleyways as he corners a target. The memory of mission after mission, the same passionate script and choreographed dance; the words that poured like sweet honey from Illario’s lips always left his tasting bitter. Rook’s face overlays the faceless target in his mind and snaps him back to the moment. The realisation of what he was doing made him flinch back away from Rook. He couldn’t be this. Not here. Not with them. He cares too much about Rook to give them something so fake. Shaking his head, he starts to pull away.

“I’m sorry. I need to clear my head. Excuse me.”

“Luca, wait.”

A warm palm on his arm halts him mid turn. Not holding. He could move away if he wanted, they aren’t stopping him leaving.

It was a plea. One he didn’t have the strength to resist right now. He turned back, head downturned, too ashamed to look at Rook.

A calloused thumb smooths at the edge of his beard, but doesn’t urge him to look up, and the palm cradles his face more firmly when the action isn’t rejected. The heat of the moment gone, Rook’s touches are a comfort now and he leans into it with a bitter sigh.

“What’s wrong?” Their voice is soft, worry creeping in at the edges. “If I pushed you, I’m sorry.”

He raises his head, pressing his own palm over Rook’s on his face while he cups Rook’s cheek with the other, wanting to banish the sadness gathering in their eyes.

“No. You have been nothing but good to me.” He closes his eyes to gather himself, and buries himself further into Rook’s palm, not wanting to see their expression as he explains. “I want this, Rook. But I don’t know how to want. And with everything that happened. I got so lost in my own head that…” He takes a shuddering breath, not wanting to voice his shame, but Rook needed to know that it wasn’t their fault.

“I…I treated you like a mark. And it felt wrong. You deserve more than that.”

He braved looking up again, and was met with a look of understanding wrapped in the affection he had come to hold so dear.

“It doesn’t matter what I do or don’t deserve. I want you. As you are.” They press a kiss to his forehead. “Never feel like you have to be someone else for me.”

He falls willingly into the embrace Rook pulls him into, latching his arms around them tightly. Their solid bulk is warm and familiar against him as he’s cradled securely in their arms, and some of the tension starts to drain away. He feels the rumble of their voice where his face is pressed to their chest.

“And if this is as far as you ever want to go, that’s enough for me, ok?”

He nods weakly into their chest, already exhausted physically and emotionally despite his impromptu nap. Being hijacked by a demon didn’t lead to the most restful sleep when he did finally succumb.

He snags Rook’s hand in his as he pulls away.

“I think I need coffee.” Rook chuckles and allows themself to be led out of the pantry. He smiles at the affectionately muttered ‘of course you do’ as they follow him to his designated coffee station. He glances up at Rook as he reluctantly untangles their hands to get to work. “I can make you cioccolata calda?”

They press a chaste kiss to his lips, “Mmmm. My favourite.” before moving away to lean against the table to watch him work. With the comforting presence of Rook nearby and his hands busy with a familiar task, his mind starts to settle once more.

[raikiriwolfwrites]

Bitterness chapter 6 bonus art

Can’ believe Lucanis is the reason for my first ever fanfic and first ever fan art but there are some scenes I really wanted to try and draw so here we are.

So here’s a little bonus scene post chapter 6 (on AO3 here)

Luca’s feeling better enough to start making bad jokes, thankfully Rook knows a good way to shut him up.

Please excuse the quality, it was my first time using procreate and I did not get my canvas size right but got too far in to want to change it so *shrug*

Lucanis “You know, I could never fail 1000 contracts. Caterina would have risen from her grave to kill me long before then.”

Rook “Shush, Luca”

[raikiriwolfwrites]

Bitterness, Sweetened by Your Lips

Lucanis is struggling after Weisshaupt. Emotions boil over and Rook is there to offer long needed reassurances.

Enby RookxLucanis

Warning for allusions to Caterina's A+ parenting and panic attacks.

Chapter 6 - Catharsis

Read on AO3

Lucanis landed heavily against the stone, jolting upright with a wince as Ghilan’nain screamed in disbelief at the blood trickling from the cut on her face.

He’d missed.

The tap of Caterina’s cane echoed in his ears, moving closer, ready to chastise him for his failure. He was ready to throw himself back at Ghilan’nain, prove he could complete the job, when Rook’s shout made him pause. The rhythmic sound of a cane on stone morphed into Rook’s heavy footfalls as they ran up to him, gloved hand a vice around his bicep to pull him back.

“Let’s go!”

“Give me another shot!” He tried to twist out of Rook’s grip, but they held firm.

“Too late, back to the eluvian.”

He wanted to keep fighting, fix his mistake, but writhing walls of blight were building up around Ghilan’nain and spreading fast as she raged. Logic won out over anger. Rook was right, the window of opportunity was gone. He hesitated for one final second, watching his target disappear from sight behind a grotesque, fleshy, barrier of blight, before pivoting on his heel and following after Rook and the others.

Rook shouted to Holden as the team drew together in their sprint for the exit. “Is it working?”

The ethereal glow of the eluvian seemed as strong as ever as they approached. The familiar floating islands of the Crossroads just visible through its shimmering surface. “I hope so.”

“Best odds all day.”

One by one they ran through to the safety of the Crossroads beyond.

-----

They all went their separate ways in the Lighthouse, agreeing to meet up in the dining hall once they’d all cleaned off the blood, sweat, grime and blight of Weisshaupt.

Lucanis mechanically cleaned up and redressed in his casual clothes. Leathers and blades were wiped off, checked over, and put away. Dust and sweat cleansed from his skin with a cloth and warm water. His body followed the familiar motions of fastening his waistcoat and heading to the kitchen to start preparing coffee while his mind whirled. He couldn't tell where his agitation ended and Spite’s began over the loss of their kill. They twined together, a negative feedback loop of emotion buffeting him from the inside as he desperately clung to his routine, and the familiar rich scent of Andoral’s Breath, to keep himself grounded. He tried taking deep, controlled breaths to reign the emotion back in, but it felt like trying to empty the Treviso canals with a coffee cup.

He doesn’t quite remember everyone else arriving, or sitting down at the table, but the next thing he registers is the solid presence of a chair beneath him and at his back. A press of warmth at his knee from his left draws him away from himself and he looks up from the coffee mug clutched like a lifeline between his palms.

Rook isn’t looking at him, they’re watching everyone settle in their seats, but he shifts his leg under the table to return the pressure, grateful for the contact as people start talking. He sips his coffee as the conversation washes over him, the words barely skimming his consciousness as he focuses on centering himself with even breaths.

Harding is the last to take her seat, with a missive in hand. “Evka sent word. Last of the civilians made it to Lavendel. Janos and his people held the line long enough for them to escape Weisshaupt. And the Wardens are in Lavendel, too.”

“What’s left of them, you mean. Over a thousand…that’s how many fellow Wardens I had. And now…One god. One Archdemon. That’s all it took to nearly wipe out our entire Order.”

“I promise you Davrin. We’ll make Ghilan’nain pay. For every Warden she killed. Every child left alone. There will be a reckoning.”

“How? We all saw what she did. That’s beyond…”

“We killed her Archdemon, though. That’s something, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. After it turned into a snake monster with too many heads! Are all blighted dragons going to do that? I don’t know how to fight that!”

“Well, at least we’ve made Ghilan’nain mortal.”

“Mortal or immortal doesn’t matter if we can’t get close enough.” The feeling of eyes boring into the side of his skull grates on his senses enough to pull his focus back to the table. Davrin’s look of disdain is aimed right at him as he continues. “We had our shot at her. And we missed.”

Spite’s anger is a writhing mass behind his eyes, melding with and feeding off his own frustration. The unsubtle jab, salt in a wound he was already picking the edges of raw. But he manages to keep his voice level to reply. “Say what you mean Davrin. I missed.”

“Nobody blames you for that, Lucanis.”

He held back a scoff. Harding may not, but she should. The target of his contract was there, he’d had his chance, and missed.

“Yeah? Maybe I do. This Crow has a demon inside him, right?”

Davrin’s words sank like hooks into the open wounds of his failure and he relished the sting. He needed to be better.

“Now that’s not–“

Davrin had found the target for his righteous anger and Harding’s interruptions weren’t going to stop him.

“How do we know we can trust him? Maybe the demon pulled his punches.”

Spite railed at that. He was clenching the mug in his hands tight enough he worried it might shatter as he fought back against Spite clawing for the reigns. But the porcelain held, as did his control, if only barely.

“Okay. Hold on. Now we’re getting–“

Between Davrin’s words, Spite’s vicious tantrum thrashing behind his eyes, and his own swirling temult of emotion, his patience and temper were fraying and he couldn’t help but snap back. “And you, Warden? What about the blight that runs through your veins? The same blight that Ghilan’nain commands so effortlessly.”

Even Emmrich’s deep well of patience seemed to be running dry as he attempts to settle them all down again. “Just a moment, please–“

“Enough!”

Rook’s deep voice cuts sharply through the bickering like a knife. A rare thread of anger steeling their voice enough to make everyone instantly fall blessedly silent and listen.

“Stop arguing. We’ve got no chance if we turn on each other. Chaos helps the gods, and hurts this team. It will get us killed, one by one.” They looked round the table as they spoke, meeting everyone’s eyes in turn. Lucanis gathered himself enough to meet them with a veneer of calm contrition as they finally reached him. Everyone looking suitably calm or chastised, they continue, addressing the whole table. The frustration has faded, but the hard edge to their voice remains, brooking no argument. “So get it together. We need to figure out how to defeat them.”

Emmrich is the first to break the tense silence. “We’re all in agreement on that point, Rook. But the question remains— how? We barely survived against one of the gods.”

Lucanis picks at the memory, trying to find the loose thread, where the job went wrong. He was so close. He cannot keep the bitterness from his tone as he mutters, “I nearly had her.”

“Nearly. But you and Spite are not of one mind, Lucanis. Fighting for control…it’s no wonder you missed such a rare opportunity.”

Emmrich’s words aren’t meant to be an attack, he knows, but still they fall like a lash on his back, another brand woven into the tapestry of failure across his skin.

Rook’s voice anchors him in the present and he clings to the comfort of it as it cuts through the turbulence in his mind. He feels the brief reprieve of the eye of the storm as he locked on to their words.

“We’ve all been distracted, but we’re not in this fight alone. We have allies and friends in all sorts of places. We reach out to them and eventually someone will find something that will put us on the trail of the gods. There’s so much going on that we can’t control, but the least we can do is help our allies, help each other. We can’t afford distractions, but we have time to prepare. For now though, we need to rest and cool off. We killed an Archdemon today, and we all made it out in one piece. And when the time comes, we make the gods pay for the ones who didn’t.”

Everyone read the silent dismissal in Rook’s words and started to slowly trickle out of the room, the tension between them not quite gone, but certainly lessened. Lucanis was the last to rise as Rook watched the door shut behind the others from their seat at the head of the table.

In the subsequent quiet, his own thoughts become loud again, he feels raw as his mind is pulled in every direction at once, an unrelenting force pounding behind his eyes.

But he has to keep it together. He can’t let Rook see how close the threads holding him together are to snapping. Rook deserves better than a patched up shell of a man, straining at the seams. He needs to be better. He needs to work, and prove that he can fulfill his contract.

The mask of collectedness doesn’t slip into place as easily as he would like but he manages to hold it together enough to try and reassure Rook. He hopes it’s enough for them to leave him alone to scrape together enough of the scattered pieces of himself; to build them back into something resembling Lucanis Dellamorte, the Demon of Vyrantium.

Rook reaches up and catches his forearm in their calloused palm as he rounds the table, concern clear in their expression.

“I’m fine. I just need some time alone to get my head on straight.”

They seem reluctant, but unwilling to push after the day they’ve had. They let him go, voice soft. “Whatever you need to do.”

He misses the warmth of Rook’s palm as he pulls away but he can feel the mask slipping. He can’t let Rook see. They have the whole team to hold together, they don’t need the added stress of holding him together, too. The roaring in his ears is starting to build again and his focus tunnels in on the pantry door, so much so that he doesn’t register Rook’s voice, talking to the empty air beside them as he firmly shuts the door behind him.

-----

He doesn’t even make it into the pantry fully, managing to close the door before the dam breaks and he collapses back against it. The thick wood doing more to hold him up than his own trembling limbs.

His back muscles twitched, besieged by a phantom ache, the memory of pain awakening as if fresh. Every thought, every doubt, every recollection of his failure compounding, layering over each other like the crack of Caterina’s cane on his bare flesh. His back itched and tingled where the scars mapped his skin. Each a lesson. One he thought he had learned well, paid for in sweat, blood and bruises seared deep into his bones.

He can faintly hear Spite, feel the brush of his sharp magic as his manifestation rages around him, but it’s distant, muffled. His mind sunk so deep into the maelstrom of his own feelings that even Spite’s can’t quite get through to him. His hands come up to clutch at his hair, the sting of his harsh grip a penance. Caterina’s firm hand always followed sharply on the heels of mistakes and failures. Until he learned not to fail. That pain had moulded him into the Master Assassin he was lauded as, made him stronger.

The ‘Demon of Vyrantium’ never failed a contract.

His family was nearly all gone. His home was under occupation. He had lost a year of his life to pain and darkness, only to escape with a mind and body that wasn’t even his own any more.

If he couldn’t even complete a contract, what did he have left.

What use is he to Rook.

His breath shakes, chest aching. One hand claws at the chain at his throat, ripping it off along with his cravat. The top button of his shirt falls victim to the harsh rake of nails and is sent flying, clattering across the floor alongside the crow skulls and chain. The hand returns to its tight grip in his hair and he closes his eyes to fight off the black encroaching at the edges of his vision, back sliding down the door until he meets the stone floor with a heavy thump. It should feel cold beneath him. He feels nothing. Disconnected from the sensation, and too entrenched in the depths of his own mind to notice.

The crumbling stone walls of the Ossuary close in around him, crushing the breath from his lungs. The trickling of water through the cracks becomes a flood. The water slowly rises up around him, engulfing him in its numbing embrace. He rakes blunt nails across his scalp to feel something other than the oppressive weight closing in from all sides.

The pressure builds, a vice around his ribs as his heart tries to break through them from the inside.

The dark nothingness he falls into is a relief.

-----

Spite growls and rages around the pantry as Lucanis shuts the door behind him. He throws his spectral form into the shelves, thrashes at the food, candles and other objects littering the pantry. But nothing budges.

He wants to break.

Kill.

But without Lucanis’ form he can’t.

The Lighthouse is the closest thing he’s felt to the fade since he was ripped from it, forced into a vessel not made to fit.

But he. Still. Can’t. Touch. Anything.

It’s part of the Fade, but disconnected somehow. Or maybe it’s him that disconnected. Forced into a mortal shell, not even a mage who can access the Fade. Only a tenuous link where the veil is weak allowing him to pull things through to help Rook.

His fury returns to its primary target.

Zara.

It’s. Her. Fault.

In the Fade the world would bend to his whims. With enough determination, anything was possible. But now be’s trapped. And Lucanis isn’t keeping his side of the deal.

He whirls back to where Lucanis is hunched by the door, surprised that he hasn’t been told to be quiet or wrangled back into the dank cell of the Ossuary in his mind.

Lucanis is ignoring him.

He stalks closer.

“Let. Me. OUT. We make them PAY. For what they did to. US.”

He was shouting in Lucanis’ face now but his eyes were screwed shut and he still wasn’t listening.

“You. Keep. Us. TRAPPED.”

He seethed, inches from Lucanis’ face, chest heaving from his outburst despite not needing to breathe. Still nothing. His anger simmered down as he looked closer at Lucanis.

Something was wrong.

The sour notes of distress permeated the air. The tangle in his mind where their emotions met was a turbulent mess. Feelings old and new knotted together and tore where they caught on sharp, unhealed edges. He prodded at the divide between them and was met with damp stone.

He couldn’t reach Lucanis.

The body before him was trembling, breaths thin and short. He watched it slide down to the floor.

He prodded harder at the link between them only to be met with a jolt of pain. No. That was Lucanis’ pain.

Lucanis was hurting.

He needs Lucanis.

But how can he make it stop.

He flitted about, unsure, but unable to do anything. He kept niggling at their bond. The mental wall keeping him out started to crumble as the body before him curled in tighter on itself. It collapsed, but there was only silence beyond. It felt like in the Ossuary, when Lucanis retreated into his mind, closed off from all feeling to escape the pain.

With the mental barrier gone, he was thrust into control of Lucanis’ body, catching it before it dropped sideways onto the floor.

It felt wrong. Like the adrenaline of battle coursing through his veins, but instead of adding strength, it left limbs shaking and weak. His chest felt bruised, heart beating too fast, finally starting to slow back to normal.

Lucanis needs help.

Rook.

Rook helps.

Rook, who’s magic feels like home. Who always listened, helped people who ask, and those who don’t. Who is kind but doesn’t hesitate to cut down those who stand in their way. Rook’s presence is a comfort to them both.

He forces shaky legs to stand and leaves the pantry with one goal in mind.

-----

Rook collapses onto the chaise with a heavy sigh. Weisshaupt had gone poorly yet, somehow, that meeting had been worse. Post battle adrenaline had made tempers short. They had done the rounds, checking in on everyone afterwards, and thankfully the team seemed to have settled down again. They have some time while their allies gather more intel, time they can use to help get everyone back on task and focused.

Lucanis was the only one they hadn’t spoken to. He said he needed some time, and they had to respect that, as much as they wished to be there by his side. They could see he was taking it hard, Davrin’s misplaced frustration not helping matters. They breathed out another weary sigh and dropped their head into their hands, rubbing at their eyes.

Maybe a short nap, and then drop by and see how he’s doing.

The rattle of the door handle lures their head from the cradle of their hands. The sight as it swings open has them jumping to their feet and rushing to the door.

“Lu- Spite!” The purple glow in place of dark brown is familiar, if unexpected. But the state he’s in sends a surge of panic through them.

“Rook.” Spite’s voice is uncharacteristically soft, a subtle tremor to it that makes Rook’s heart ache.

It’s the most dishevelled Rook’s ever seen Lucanis. His clothes are rumpled, cravat, collar pins and chain gone. They can see faint red welts across his neck where the shirt gapes open without the top button holding it closed. There’s a faint sheen of sweat across his skin and an unsteadiness to his limbs that contradicts the usually precisely controlled movements of the master assassin. Even without being able to read his eyes past the purple glow, his face looks lost and unsure. That more than anything, so unlike how Spite normally carries himself in Lucanis’ body, sends tendrils of anxiety racing through them.

Their hands flit over him, trying to find the source of the problem. Finding nothing obvious they move back up to gently cradle Spite’s face between their palms, smoothing their thumbs slowly across his cheeks. “Spite? What happened?”

Spite surges forward and buries his face into Rook’s neck, inhaling deeply, and their arms wind around him securely. They reach one arm out to shut the door, locking it behind them as they gently steer Spite towards the chaise.

They take a seat, pulling Spite down beside them. He clutches at Rook, face buried back in their neck as they settle. Lucanis’ body seems to lose some of its tension at the contact.

“Spite? What’s going on?” They probe gently, but receive no response except for deep breaths into the hollow of their throat. “If you can’t explain it, can I have Lucanis back to talk?”

The hair on his head tickles their chin as he shakes his head in a violent ‘no’.

“Lucanis hurts. Old and new. Then he hides.”

There’s a tightening in Rook’s chest, a deep regret from leaving Lucanis to dwell alone. Spite’s resonant growl over Lucanis’ voice vibrates against the skin of their neck with a wash of warm breath. But he pulls back to look at them, hand clutching at Rook’s shirt.

“Rook helps.” It’s both a statement and a plea.

The warmth at being trusted to help wars with the pain of knowing Lucanis is hurting, that Spite is hurting and confused. “Anything I can do, please, just ask.”

Spite shakes his head again.

“Rook. Safe.”

Rook blinks, confused, but reaches out to take Spite’s hand, running a thumb over his knuckles as they wait for him to elaborate.

“WE. Are safe. With Rook.”

Oh.

“Can’t reach. Lucanis. But he comes back…when it’s safe. Rook. Safe.”

They felt a surge of affection, they knew how hard it was for Spite to articulate through Lucanis. The effortless trade of thought and feeling between spirits in the Fade impossible to translate into inelegant syllables, especially in a body he had to fight to contain him. But he came to them. He and Lucanis needed help and he trusted them, explained where Lucanis could not.

“Thank you, Spite.” They pressed a soft kiss to his forehead. “If you need to be here with me, you should at least be comfortable then.”

They set to removing Lucanis’ boots and waistcoat, setting them off to the side as Spite watched on.

“Come here.” Rook beckoned softly, guiding Spite down to lay along the chaise, head resting in their lap. They started running a hand soothingly through his hair and he nuzzled his face into Rook’s stomach, melting into the comforting touch with a rumble of contentment.

“I think you need rest too, Spite. I’ll be here as long as you and Lucanis need.”

They kept up the motion of smoothing their hand through his silky hair until Spite stilled fully, body relaxed. They kept caressing his hair gently, and they waited to see whose eyes would greet them when he woke up.

-----

He came to slowly, warm and comfortable, sighing softly at the gentle scratch of fingers against his scalp as fingers combed through his hair. He pressed his face deeper into the warm, soft fabric against his face. A soft chuckle jostled him slightly and he turned his head enough to slit an eye open. Rook was gazing fondly down at him. A myriad of emotions flickered across their face, he was still muzzy from sleep so couldn’t place all of them, but he thought he caught a shadow of concern mixed in with the affection.

Rook’s hand slipped from his hair to cup the side of his face, rubbing soothing circles at his temple where a headache was starting to make itself known.

“Back with me, Lucanis?”

The ache behind his eyes and throughout his limbs brought back a flood of memory. He winced, he hadn’t wanted Rook to see him like this. He can’t quite muster words to explain so he decides to hide his weakness away in Rook’s shirt once more, letting out a deep, shuddering sigh of defeat into their stomach.

“Lucanis? Please talk to me. Let me help.”

There was an edge of desperation to their voice. The thought of causing Rook undue upset outweighed his shame. Schooling his expression he levered himself upright, out of Rook’s lap. Rook didn’t let him go far though, pulling him into their side as he sat next to them.

He tried to think back, rubbing his eyes to ease the dull throbbing behind them, but everything after he closed the door to the pantry was a dark smudge in his memory. The loss of time always made him wary.

“How did I get here?” He asked quietly, voice rough from disuse.

Rook reached out to clasp his hand. “Spite was worried. He brought you here.” He could see them turn to him out the corner of his eye, feel the weight of their gaze, but he couldn’t bring himself to meet it. That first bit gave him pause though.

Worried?

Spite had control, and he came here?

Spite was there, quiet in the back of his mind. He tried to reach out but Spite stayed stubbornly tucked away, almost sulking.

“I know you took Weisshaupt hard. I’m sorry I didn’t come and check on you, but you said you needed some time alone-“

“No.” He couldn’t stand for Rook to blame themself over this. “You did everything you could, for everyone. I just l…didn’t want to you to see me like that. You have enough to deal with without my failures.”

The arm around his waist tightened. “You didn’t fail, Lucanis. We fought a god. We killed her Archdemon, wounded her, and we lived to tell about it.”

They didn’t understand.

“You shouldn’t go easy on me, Rook! I had her. She should have never gotten away from me. This was our contract, Rook. I don’t fail my contracts.”

“Ghilan’nain was a giant face in the clouds, Lucanis. I asked you to stab a cloud.”

“And I missed the damn cloud!”

“My point is: That was impossible, and you still almost did it. That’s not small. Things always go wrong, we learn and we grow. No one is infallible. You’re human, Lucanis.”

He chokes out a bitter laugh. “Am I?” Rook tenses beside him, but he cuts off the protest he can feel forming. “I thought I still had this. Whatever else I am, I’m a professional. After the Ossuary, I thought at least I could still take out a target. I need to work.”

Rook’s presence was a tether keeping him from spiralling like he did before, but he could feel the frustration building up behind his eyes and they stung with unshed tears.

Rook coaxes him to turn towards them with a soft grip on his jaw. He relents to the pressure. There’s a steel in their eyes “And you will. Next time we go in prepared, and we will succeed. Together. For now, forget about Ghilan’nain.”

“But that’s why I’m here. If I can’t do this, what use am I to you.”

“Lucanis…I’m just happy you didn’t get killed out there. Yes, we hired you for your reputation. But you have saved my life, the lives of everyone on this team, more times than I could count. You look after us in and out of battle. I’ve seen you buy gifts based on a throwaway comment that no one else even remembered. But you listened, and you did.”

There’s a strange ache in his chest, not like the one from before. He wants to look away, but Rook holds firm, willing their words to sink in.

“You don’t just cook for us, you go out of your way to make sure everyone gets a taste of home. You give them comfort in a world that has little to spare right now. Of course we value your skills, you’ve trained hard to be as good as you are, but that isn’t all we care about.”

He could see tears shimmering at the corners of their eyes, felt matching ones trying to escape his own. They took a steadying breath before pressing their forehead to his, voice deep and sure.

“You could fail a thousand contracts, and you would still matter. Especially to me.” They hold Lucanis’ face, not letting him break eye contact, even as they lean back to put a few inches of space between their faces. He’s subjected to the force of the full, open, honesty on their face, their eyes shimmering wetly with every ounce of emotion laid bare. Their words struck deep beneath years of knotted scar tissue. Unravelling something deep in his chest.

Caterina had honed him as a weapon his whole life. He didn’t know what he was beneath that. If there was anything left once Lucanis the Crow was stripped away. But Rook made him want to find out. Rook saw Lucanis, demon and all, and saw someone worth caring for. Liquid gathered unbidden in his eyes as his walls started to crumble.

“You are more than your blades, Luca.”

He broke.

Buried his face in Rook’s shoulder and clung to them like a lifeline as decades of pent up emotion washed out. Strong arms pulled him into their lap fully and wrapped around him, holding him in place. They made no comment on the wetness spreading on their shirt, only clutching him tighter, hands stroking soothingly wherever they could reach as they pressed their cheek to the top of his head. A shield to keep him safe from the outside world as he fell apart.

-----

Lucanis didn’t know how long he had been curled up in Rook’s lap, but they had stayed like that in comfortable silence as the tears dried on his face. A weight lifted from his chest as he relaxes into the hold. He slides his head away from the damp patch of shirt to nestle more comfortably against the warm skin at the crook of Rook’s neck.

Pressing a kiss to the skin he mutters a quiet “Thank you.” into it. Their response is simply a low hum as he feels a kiss returned to his hair. His throat is dry, the tear tracks have left his cheeks feeling tight, and he there’s a sense of contradictory lightness and exhaustion deep in his bones. He thinks he might end up stiff staying like this for much longer but there’s a layer of peace blanketing them that quashes any need to move.

He wraps his arms around Rook to sit in a more comfortable embrace against them and they shift to accommodate him easily. He allows his mind to wander in the quiet and something Rook said came back to him. He leaned back to lay against the meat of Rook’s shoulder so he could look up at them curiously.

“You called me Luca.”

The statement caught them off guard, and they blinked at him for a second while they processed, before smiling down at him apologetically.

“Ah, sorry. Do you not like it?”

“No, it’s…” he looked down at his hand, fidgeting with the worn fabric of Rook’s shirt. “My mother. I don’t remember her well, but I remember she called me that once. When I was young.” He looked up into Rook’s eyes, smiling softly, and pressed a hand over their heart. “I like being Luca to you.”

The kiss he was pulled into was gentle. The faint hint of salt still stained his lips but made the kiss no less sweet.

They traded soft kisses for a short while before relaxing into a comfortable position to lounge together, trading idle conversation into the night.

And some wholesome post chapter art

[raikiriwolfwrites]

Bitterness, Sweetened by Your Lips

After an offer of aid from the Crows, Rook and Lucanis take an unplanned trip to Dock Town, and learn a little more about each other in the process.

Enby RookxLucanis

Chapter 5 - Dock Town Dalliance

Read on AO3

They’re about to head straight to the eluvian out the back of the Diamond, another rogue group of Antaam put down but still no closer to finding out who was behind their invasion, when Teia calls Rook and Lucanis over with a beckoning wave.

“I have something for you.” She says, gesturing for them to follow her into a side room. They shoot Lucanis a curious look, but the blank look on his face says that he is none the wiser either. He shrugs at them and trails after Teia with Rook.

The inside is dimly lit by lanterns on the walls and seems to be a store room. Crates of various sizes are scattered around, Rook can spot a range of supplies, medical and ration, among others, peeking out of some of them. Teia has stopped by the crate nearest the door and gestures to the rest of the room as she explains.

“You’ve done so much to help Treviso .We’re still standing because you came to our aid, so we’ve been gathering supplies to send to Minrathous. It’s not as much as we could normally offer with the Antaam still restricting our trade, but we’ve been able to slip more through the more we disrupt them. We will send our people to bring the rest of them but thought it would be best if you were to set up the drop location.”

Lucanis lingers by the door as Rook makes their way over to flick through a few of the crates, taking stock of what they’ve collected. Flicking their eyes back over to Teia briefly, they resume their rummaging. “Thank you Teia. This will be a great help. The Shadows are doing what they can but supply lines haven’t recovered yet and both people and resources are spread thin.”

Their smile is slightly wan as they place a hand on Teia’s arm and press a kiss to her cheek in gratitude.

“We could take some essentials now and I can go meet them and set it up right away.” They look from Teia to Lucanis questioningly as they speak and receive a warm smile and nod in return.

Teia places a hand over theirs, “Of course, send word once you have a drop off location and we’ll have people on it.”

With a grateful smile Rook walks over to the biggest boxes and starts picking through the supplies, muttering to themself as they think about what would be most needed, pulling things out and placing them to the side. They turn to see Lucanis has nudged two empty crates, small enough to be easily carried, over beside them to use and they flash him a quick smile before they get to work, Lucanis stepping side to give them space. They start sorting medical supplies into one, rations and some blankets into another. Packing everything in as tightly as possible, they make sure they have as much as the two of them can carry. Turning to the Crows conversing quietly by the door, he pats the top of the crate.

“Thank you again Teia.” Lucanis moves closer, picking up one of them as Rook hefts the other into their arms.

Teia waves them off dismissively. “It’s the least we could do. Crows always pay their debts.” She ushers them out the door, closing it up behind her as they return to their original path towards the eluvian.

“Don’t be strangers now!”

Rook shifts the weight in their arms so they can throw a wave over their shoulder as they leave the Diamond. “We won’t!”

-----

The salty air of Docktown greets him as they pass through the eluvian, arms laden with supplies. Every time he visits and sees the ruined streets and crowds of displaced people, he can’t help but think how this could have been Treviso. Would have been if not for the person beside him. As he said to Rook: it should never have been a choice, but since it still stands, their aid is the least Treviso can offer. He’s glad Teia arranged this, with all the missions they’ve been on trying to find out more of the God’s plans and make sure everyone is ready for the confrontation when it comes, it hadn’t even crossed his mind. But he knows the decision still weighs on Rook’s. Sees the guilt that etches itself into their face when they think no one's looking.

“Come on.” Rook gestures with their head for him to follow. “I know one of the last places the Shadows were using as a hub to organise, there should be someone there who can put these to use, and probably set up the meeting point for the rest.”

Lucanis comfortably falls into step behind them, following diligently through the winding alleys of Docktown. They were leading him to an area he wasn’t familiar with from their other jobs in Docktown, away from the main thoroughfare. The path was winding, going through narrow back alleys and scaling the remains of crumbled walls that had collapsed into walkways. They definitely backtracked a few times, he supposes they were probably a fairly careful group before, but with dwindling numbers now more so than ever. Only his keen sense of direction saved him from feeling completely lost in the twists and turns.

An unassuming door greeted them as Rook finally came to a stop. It was down a shadowed alley, dimly lit by a flickering mage light further down. Rook hefted the box onto one arm so they could rap a series of dull knocks against the wood.

Lucanis heard footsteps shuffling behind the thick wood, getting closer. A soft click proceeds the door being inched open, just enough that a cautious pair of eyes can take them in, a spark of recognition flashing across the visible sliver of their face as they spot Rook.

Rook’s smile is friendly as they lift the box up in explanation. “I have gifts!”

He hears the jangle of metal as the lock is unchained, the figure within is fully revealed as the door swings open. The man is dressed casually, Lucanis isn’t sure if he’s a Shadow Dragon himself, or just someone willing to help hide them. The cruel displays of the Venatori striking equal amounts of fear and sympathy in the population. The man gestures for them to step inside, locking the door up behind him, and leading them into a back room. It’s sparsely decorated but looks well lived in. Digging his fingers into a groove in the floor that Lucanis wouldn’t have noticed if he wasn’t explicitly looking for it, he pries open a trapdoor. A steep stone staircase extends down beyond. He couldn’t see how far it went from up here, but veilfire sconces spaced out along the walls either side kept it well lit with their flickering, eerie green glow. The man’s voice is curt, but not unfriendly, as he holds it open with a gesture for them to go ahead. “There’s someone down there who should know what to do with your ‘gifts’.”

Nodding, Rook leads the way. Lucanis close at their heels. As they trudge down the stairs he hears the soft thud of the trapdoor being closed behind them. The light from the room above cut off leaving them cast only in the otherworldly green of the veilfire. It’s silent for a few minutes except for the soft echo of Rook’s footsteps on the stone as they trudge deeper into the underbelly of Minrathous.

Rook eventually breaks the comfortable silence. “These tunnels run all over the city, remnants of the elven city that most people have forgotten about.”

Lucanis hums in acknowledgement. “I’ve seen similar in other cities. Very useful in our lines of work.”

“The Shadows used to mostly use them to get around, but now with so many of their safe houses above ground gone they’ve moved a lot of their operations down here.”

The stairs come to an end and level out into a wide corridor. There are various other passages branching off that Rook bypasses, confident in their steps. Turning a corner they walk into an open room. The sconces here are real fire, casting the room in a warm orange glow, juxtaposed with the cool green light from the veilfire outside. There are a few tables scattered around, maps and reports littering the tabletops and walls. Lucanis glances around the room, noting how many people are milling around and where the other tunnel exits are around the room. Rook is also looking around, scanning faces for whoever they recognise as most useful to talk to, he assumes. They both spot a familiar head of hair bent over a desk in the corner at the same time, Lucanis hears a faint noise of triumph leave their throat before they glance his way and set off in that direction.

Tarquin doesn’t look up as they approach, only glancing up when Rook drops their box with a thud on the corner of his desk.

Realising who’s disturbing him he straightens up, rolling his shoulders and stretching his back out as he rises. His eyes briefly flick over to take in Lucanis before focusing back on Rook, posture relaxing with a smile. “Aeryn.”

Rook flashes him a grin. “Quin. I come bearing gifts.” They receive a raised eyebrow in return.

Lucanis looks between them curiously; they seemed far more comfortable and familiar with each other than when they had met up just after the dragon attack. Although admittedly the situation then was dire and the atmosphere far more tense. Tarquin’s temper apparently having simmered down in the time since to allow them to return to whatever level of… friendship?, that existed between them before.

Lucanis places his crate next to Rook’s at their prompting and they pry the lids off both to show him their contents.

Tarquin rounds the table to start rifling through them. Rook moving back to lean against his desk and give him room to search more thoroughly. Crossing their arms, they sit back and watch him pulling things out to inspect them. On silent feet Lucanis steps closer to Rook’s side and the way they lean into him briefly warms him far more than the fleeting touch.

“I brought what I thought would be most useful right now. The Crows have more, just let me know where and when and we can arrange the drop off with them.” At the mention of the Crows, Tarquin looks between the two of them, eyes narrowing slightly as he seems to note the lack of distance between them. But he steps back, calling a couple of people over from nearby, barking instructions on where to start distributing things. The supplies are divvied up, people setting off down various different corridors, presumably to other Shadow Dragon safehouses. With that brief flurry of activity over, the three of them are left alone at the table once more.

Tarquin looks up towards a display of papers on the wall behind where he had stood when they entered and walks around the table towards it. Rook turns to face the table once more as he leaves their line of sight, Lucanis unconsciously swaying back into the brush of their arms as they move. Tarquin plucks a map from amongst them, pivoting on his heel and crossing the short space back to the table, pressing it down onto the centre of the surface with a firm palm. “Where will the Crows be entering the city?”

Rook leans forward and traces a finger over the map, pointing to the destroyed shop where the Shadows used to be based. “We can give them access to the eluvians, that way they can get the supplies to you much quicker, and avoid the Antaam patrolling the ports.” They trail their finger across, following a faint line. “Are the tunnels there still accessible since we cleared them out? It would save transporting things through the streets.”

Tarquin nods thoughtfully, leaning across opposite them. Spite hisses possessively in his mind at how their heads are nearly pressed together, and he has to mentally shove him back down. It’s not like that. They go back and forth, discussing the merits of certain routes through the underground and any obstructions that have been caused by the destruction. Again he gets that niggling sense that the two of them are far more familiar than simply fellow Shadow Dragon agents. There’s a degree of comfort being close in each others’ space that, recently, he has only seen with Rook and himself. Lucanis has spent longer watching Rook than he would admit to, but in doing so he’s noticed things about them. Although Rook is very tactile and friendly, they rarely spend prolonged time in anyone’s space. Unless they trust them completely. A trust he still feels unworthy of but sends flutters through his chest whenever he catches it displayed in Rook’s words and actions. A trust apparently also afforded to Tarquin.

Rook turning to face him draws him back into the discussion. “Ok, so if the Crows can just get the boxes to the basement just past the eluvian, the Shadows can take it from there. We’ll have to arrange it as a few smaller drops, just so there aren’t too many people having to move at once.”

He offers a short nod. “Of course, just say the word and it’s done.”

Tarquin pulls a scrap of paper and a quill from the edge of the desk and scrawls a series of dates and times. There’s an odd, searching look, in Tarquin’s eyes as he looks up while he lets the ink dry, meeting Lucanis’ gaze intently. He keeps his face neutral, not sure what Tarquin is looking for, but he is either satisfied or gives up, breaking their impromptu staring match to look down at his note as he folds it up and holds it out to him. Lucanis plucks it from between his fingers and tucks it inside his armour. He’s surprised to see the proffered hand still extended, palm open now, face expectant. Reaching back out he grasps it firmly and he gets the strange feeling that he’s passed some kind of unknown test.

“On behalf of the Shadow Dragons, thank you.” The fingers around his tighten fractionally and his voice lowers as he pulls him in. “Look after them.”

He doesn’t hesitate to match the tight grasp, eyes flashing with heartfelt determination in a silent promise..

Rook’s embarrassed chuckle breaks them apart and the “Quin” is lightly chiding. “If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.” Lucanis can still feel the emotional strain the ruin of their home has on them, the faint desperation and guilt haunting their voice if anyone pays close enough attention to hear it. “But we should be going.”

A gentle touch at his elbow is all the urging he needs to send a parting glance Tarquin’s way and make his way over to the door they entered through. At the doorway he turns back at the lack of footsteps following to see Tarquin has rounded the table again, muttering something to them in hushed tones. They smile gently in return, nodding as they clasp a hand on his shoulder. Tarquin visibly relaxes and returns the smile, walking back behind his desk without a second glance. Rook finally follows and the warm palm at the small of his back guiding him out through the tunnels once more is a welcome weight.

-----

Lucanis seems lost in thought as they make their way back through the streets of Docktown to the eluvian, so they simply walk beside him in silence. It takes the solitude of the Crossroads for

Lucanis to broach whatever topic he’s been brooding over, Rook slowing their steps to give him time to collect his thoughts.

“The Crows are lending aid, but I hope you know that I am here to help with anything you, or they, need as well.” Rook senses this isn’t the crux of what’s bothering him, but it’s broken the ice on his contemplation so they snake an arm around his waist with a gentle squeeze, grateful all the same.

“I know. Thank you.”

Rook saw his jaw working from the corner of his eye, like he was starting to form words before holding them back and reworking them, over and over. It wasn’t paired with the flickering of his focus around the space that usually signified a silent argument with Spite, so it must be something else, they surmised. Their arm around his waist pulled him to a gentle stop and they could see the indecision flash across his face as they turned to him before he settled into a more neutral mask.

A mask that crumbles like chalk under the stroke of a thumb along the edge of his beard as a gentle hand cups his jaw, and a softly asked question.

“What’s bothering you really?”

With a sigh his expression turns bashful. His hand twines with the one on his face, pulling it away to rest between them. His thumb swipes across their knuckles in a steady pattern and his face is lowered, speaking towards their joined hands, voice low and hesitant.

“It’s nothing. Nothing important-“

“If it’s bothering you, it’s important to me.” Rook interjected softly.

A brief flash of chocolate brown eyes through dark lashes before they were hidden again, focused back on their hands.

“Tarquin…you and he were…close? Closer than…colleagues, I mean.”

Rook felt some of the tension in their body unspooling at the realisation that it was nothing too serious. But traced their hand up from his waist to his chin so they could tip his head up to read his expression. They were open and honest with him as usual.

“Yes. We were.” The rest of their tension eased as they found no trace of anger or jealousy in his eyes; a slight embarrassment, maybe? His eyes darted away, unsure under Rook’s unwavering attention. “Jealous?” They teased softly, hoping to prompt him into speaking his mind.

His eyes snapped back. “No! No, I just…” He huffed out a resigned breath as a faint hint of a blush worked its way onto his cheeks, but he held Rook’s gaze nonetheless. “I assumed you had previous…partners. But seeing it…it was just unexpected and…”

He seemed to still be struggling with how to articulate what was at the core of his earlier introspection. Rook tried to take a guess, hoping to ease his struggle.

“We can talk about past relationships, if it would help to be open about it. There’s nothing I need to hide from you.” Lucanis leans into the palm still resting by his jaw, grounding himself. A small frown settling between his brows at Rook’s words. They wanted to smooth it away, and decide that maybe if they can clear the air, hopefully it can help clear Lucanis’ worries in turn. “I will warn you, my list is very short. It takes a lot for me to truly trust and care for someone enough to be close to them,” they lean down to press their forehead to his, “like this.”

This close they can see something softening in Lucanis’ eyes, but the frown doesn’t ease up, brow still tense and furrowed beneath Rook’s own. His eyes close and Rook is starting to wonder if they have wildly misread Lucanis’ concerns and have made things more awkward by bringing up past partners. But a gloved palm rises up to press over their heart, soft, skin-warmed leather rubbing against the bare skin of their chest as his thumb brushes idly back and forth. A short, self-deprecating chuckle is breathed into the space between them before his eyes open once more and he pulls back so he can look at Rook properly.

He seems to steel himself before he speaks, his tone guarded and face closing off. “…I feel the same. About trust, and closeness. But there is no list for me.” Realisation starts to dawn in Rook, pieces clicking into place as Lucanis’ guard shatters, leaving him vulnerable and open as he stares up at them. “There is only one name, and the ink is still fresh.”

Adoration suffused Rook and they couldn’t help but bring their other hand up to fully cradle Lucanis’ face; bringing their lips together in a chaste kiss, but pouring all the affection they could muster into the brief contact.

“Was that what was bothering you this whole time?”

“It doesn’t bother you?”

“That you’ve never had a partner before? Why would it?”

“People…expect things of you, especially as a Crow.”

“People don’t matter to me. You do.” A sly smirk crosses their face. “I’ll just have to set the bar very high then.”

Lucanis melts against their body as he pulls them close for another kiss, arms winding tight around their waist. “You already have.”

Eventually they have to break their embrace, but they leave it with Lucanis relaxed and happy, a state Rook will do anything to keep him in if they have anything to say about it. He slips a hand back into Rook’s so they can continue their walk back to the Lighthouse; the subtle tension in the air between them dissipated.

Lucanis glances up at them curiously as they walk.

“So…Aeryn?” They startle slightly, blinking down at him, unused to hearing that name, especially in Lucanis’ soft rasp. “You never told us your name, and I’m ashamed that I never thought to ask.”

Rook rubs a thumb reassuringly along his knuckles, shrugging lightly. “I never thought to offer it to be honest. I’ve been Rook since I started working with Varric, it’s just as much my name now as Aeryn ever was. But if you truly want to know,” they tug him to a stop, guiding him around with their joined hands so they faced each other, stepping back to bow theatrically; the hand not still clasping his placed against their chest. They glance coquettishly up at him through their lashes. “Aerewyn Mercar, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” Straightening up, they close the distance between them. “But being Rook meant I got to meet you, so Rook is more than fine with me.”

“Rook.” Lucanis agreed on a breath against their lips, before sealing them together sweetly.

[raikiriwolfwrites]

Bitterness, Sweetened by Your Lips

An innocent request from Rook leads to some quality time together, with an unexpected outcome.

Enby RookxLucanis

Chapter 4 - Worth Waiting For

Read on AO3

The sound of the dining hall door opening pulls Lucanis out of his reverie, his gaze leaving the crackling flames as he turns to face his guest. He already knows who it is, the steady footfalls as familiar to him as breathing. He greets Rook with a small smile as they round the table, leaning against it opposite his place by the fire.

Rook looks too focused on something for this to be a purely social call, he tilts his head as he enquires. “What can I help you with?”

Rook runs a hand through their hair, chuckling lightly. “Is it that obvious that I want something?”

Lucanis shrugs nonchalantly. “You have a look.”

They grin as they meet Lucanis’ eyes. “Trust a master assassin to know my tells. Speaking of…there is a favour I wanted to ask of you.”

Lucanis pushed off the wall to face them fully, needing Rook to understand the depths of his sincerity as he answered. “It is no favour. You have done more for me than I could hope to repay. Anything in my power to do, is yours.”

Rook laughs bashfully, hand running through their hair once more before giving Lucanis a soft look. “You don’t owe me anything, but thank you. And I don’t think this is quite that big of an ask to earn such a declaration.”

“Regardless, name it, and it is done.”

“…I wanted to ask if you would train with me.”

Lucanis blinks in surprise at the simple ask, but Rook continues before he can say anything.

“Well, train me, I suppose.” They take a breath, preparing, before an avalanche of words starts tumbling out. “Your blade work is breathtaking, I know my way around a fight, but my training was more ‘try not to die’ than technical skill. Facing the enemies we are, I need to be at my best. So I wanted to learn from the best. But you don’t just fight, your blades dance-”

Lucanis feels a heat rising to his face as they go on, flustered and flattered in equal measure, not sure how to react to either. Thankfully Rook has a slightly faraway look, clearly reminiscing over past fights as they talk. He admires the bright enthusiasm in their eyes as they gesticulate, emphasising movements with their hands.

He clears his throat, hoping his flush is concealed in the dim light. His voice still feels thick as he interrupts. “I already said I would do whatever you asked, flattery is not required.”

Rook breaks out of whatever zone they had slipped into, taking a moment to process his words before a delighted smile lights up their face. Lucanis feels the flush returning at bearing the full force of such radiance. He truly would do anything Rook asked of him if he got to witness that expression every time. He can only be grateful that he knows Rook is too kind to ask something of him that he wouldn’t want to do, or he would be in trouble.

They breathe out a grateful, “Thank you.” Before looking away, considering. “When is a good time?”

He debates for a second. “I have no immediate plans if you don’t?”

“Now?” Rook stands up, smile back in full force. Lucanis can’t help but find their eagerness endearing. He nods.

“If you have nothing more pressing?” At the gentle shake of Rook’s head he continues. “Change into something comfortable to train in, grab your gear and meet me back here then.”

Rook’s palm is warm through his shirt where it gently grasps his bicep. With another earnest, “Thank you.” they’re walking briskly out the door again.

Lucanis feels an equal, if unfamiliar, eagerness at getting to spend more time with Rook. He mentally shakes himself, trying to focus. Taking the final sip of his coffee, forgotten amidst the conversation, he heads into the pantry to change.

-----

Back in their room, Rook quickly strips out of their casual clothes, grabbing a loose navy shirt to wear with a pair of their older, well worn, trousers. Reaching into the bottom of the wardrobe, they grab a clean rag, their mageknife, and a duller training blade just in case. Eying a cloth bundle nestled in the corner, they debate for a moment. Reaching a decision with a pleased hum, they pick it up and add it to the pile.

Filling up their water skin from the bowl of water in the corner that always seems to have a fresh supply, they pick up all their gear and stride out the door, steps light.

Opening the dining hall door a few minutes later, they’re greeted by Lucanis, lounging against the stairs. A soft looking black shirt, sleeves rolled to his elbows is tucked into his usual leather trousers from his armour. Rook takes a moment to appreciate how deliciously snug they are when not obscured by the other layers he usually wears. Legs strong, but lithe. He’s empty handed and Rook looks at him curiously as he steps forward.

Lucanis chuckles at their confused expression, gesturing with his head to the stairs leading up. “Follow me.”

Acquiescing, they follow Lucanis up the steps. Expecting to be led out onto the balcony, their steps falter when they reach the top, realising that there was another set of steps nestled away. Leading up further, over the pantry. They see Lucanis' shoulders twitch in suppressed laughter at their surprised, “huh?”.

There’s mirth dancing in his eyes as he turns to glance back at Rook. “No one ever seems to come in from that side, I don’t think anyone else has noticed it either.”

Thinking back, he’s right. They haven’t been up there since they first got to the Lighthouse and explored. They usually come straight through the front door, beelining straight to either food, or Lucanis, or to the chairs in the corner to chat with the others.

At the top of the short flight of steps, Lucanis pushes open a door and steps inside, holding it for Rook as they walk out into an open space, eyes wide as they take it in.

“Well that explains why you didn’t have anything on you.” Rook says, still cataloguing the room.

It covers the whole width of the dining hall, extending out past the back wall of the pantry below. Rook wonders how they never noticed it. The ceiling is high, probably high enough that Lucanis could comfortably fly around on Spite’s wings if he wanted to, and crisscrossed with sturdy wooden beams. On the left, a hip high balcony the only barrier between the arena and the open, endless expanse of the Fade beyond. Weapon racks, targets, and training dummies line the wall to the right. Every type of weapon imaginable on display. Rook wonders if Lucanis truly trains with all of them, or if the strange magic of the Lighthouse is just generous in supplying anything one might need.

“It wasn’t here when I first arrived.” Lucanis admits from Rook’s shoulder, watching them take in the space. “I had been training out in the courtyard, when you were all asleep, or on missions, and was thinking how much I missed having proper space for it. Last week I was out on the balcony-“

“Brooding?” Rook cuts in cheekily, shooting him a sidelong glance.

Lucanis continues as if uninterrupted, but bumps his shoulder into Rook’s as he walks past, towards a bench next to the nearest weapon rack. “-and when I walked in, those stairs were there.” He gestures back behind them.” And then there’s suddenly this space up here, exactly what I needed. I’ve been training up here since.” Lucanis picks up a pair of daggers from the bench and turns back to Rook. “I don’t know that I’ll ever get used to this strange Fade place, but I can’t deny it’s useful. And well stocked.” He says waving a blade towards the wall of equipment.

Rook followed and placed their bundle of gear on the bench before straightening and facing Lucanis, laser focused. “So, what’s first?”

He flips the dagger in his off hand, grasping the flat of the blade to offer it to Rook, hilt first. They grip it firmly, the faint warmth from Lucanis’ palm still lingering on the worn leather.

“Warm up, and footwork.” He replies, leading Rook out into the centre of the space. “We have basic forms drilled into us from childhood, they get your body used to the movements. The footwork is vital, a solid foundation for everything else to build from.”

Rook listened to his explanation with rapt attention, enjoying the smooth cadence of his voice.

“I will demonstrate slowly through the first set a few times, follow my movements to get the feel for it.”

Rook nods firmly in understanding and Lucanis turns so his back is to Rook, they see his shoulders rise in a deep inhale, before relaxing into the first stance on the exhale. Rook slides into the same stance, this much familiar, at least. Lucanis glances back briefly, meeting Rook’s eyes.

“Ready?”

“Ready.”

Facing forward again he begins. Slowly he works through a short set of moves, Rook watching his back intently and trying to mirror them. After a few runs, they start to get into the rhythm of it, feeling more confident; after a few more, Lucanis moves away, gesturing for Rook to continue as he circles, analysing Rook’s form.

They try to focus on the movement of their body, the push and pull of muscle, the shifting of balance, instead of the feeling of Lucanis’ eyes roving over them. Having Lucanis’ undivided focus drawing out a heat unrelated to the physical exertion. Warm hands provided gentle correction. They almost want to make more mistakes to feel his touch again, but the urge to prove their worth is stronger. A few more circles and an impressed hum signal Lucanis’ contentment with the work so far and he slips back into place in front of Rook, picking up the pace.

-----

Lucanis runs them through various basic forms in much the same way. It’s almost meditative working through them, they could almost let their mind drift if they weren’t so intent on watching the man in front of them. Getting to admire Lucanis’ body moving so closely is an exquisite torture, his power and grace evident in every step and twist. If they spend more time admiring bare forearms than strictly necessary to learn the movement as he cuts through the air with his blade, sweat starting to glisten in the dark dusting of hair as muscles flex underneath, then that’s nobody’s business but their own.

-----

Lucanis isn’t sure which is worse. When he’s critiquing Rook: watching the pull of fabric across taut muscles, the glimpses through the deep v of their shirt shifting as they move, the heat of their skin as he nudges their body into the correct positions. But facing away as he demonstrates, he sees Spite prowling from the corner of his vision, observing Rook in his stead. It’s a fight to keep his movements controlled and steady with Spite’s commentary.

Rook. BEAUTIFUL. When they. Fight.

Deadly. Fierce.

We make. Stronger.

FIGHT. Together.

He materialises in Lucanis’ space, Lucanis having to force himself not to break the steady movements, trying to ignore him in the hopes he’ll get bored.

They watch. Us.

He leers at Lucanis, before looking away over his shoulder at Rook.

Want. Us.

Lucanis squeezes his eyes closed, trying to will Spite away and lose himself in the familiar routine. Thankfully Spite falls silent, seemingly content for now with just watching.

-----

It’s hard to tell how much time has passed in the Fade, but Lucanis is fairly sure it’s been a couple of hours as they round off the session with some light sparring, more a playful tussle with blades than anything serious. He can’t remember the last time training was anything other than a strict regime to hone himself, or something to occupy his mind and body when he needed to feel in control. But with Rook he’s felt comfort, having someone he trusts working alongside him, a sense of pride as they pick up the movements and become more confident. And he can’t deny the spark of warmth in his gut just from watching Rook work.

Shirts cling to sweaty skin as they both take deep drinks of water. Breath slowing and bodies cooling as they sit side by side on the bench, a line of warmth connecting them as their thighs press together.

Turning his head, Lucanis watches Rook wipe the sweat off their exposed skin with the rag they brought. “You did well, we’ll make a Crow of you yet.”

They laugh softly, offering up the dry end of the cloth for him to use. “You’re a good teacher. I’ve never felt so…aware of my movements. No wonder you’re so good at what you do, you have so much control.” They take another drink then look hopefully back up at Lucanis. “I would love to do this again. If you’ll have me?”

As if he could deny Rook anything. Wiping down his face allows him a second to break eye contact and collect himself. He meets Rook’s gaze again with a sincere smile.

“I would enjoy that. It’s been a long time since I trained with anybody…It’s been nice.”

They sit in comfortable silence for a few minutes longer. Rook seems deep in thought, but content, and Lucanis enjoys the simple presence of them beside him.

Taking a deep breath he rises fluidly to his feet. “I think we’ve earned a hearty lunch. Let me go wash up and put something together for us.”

Rook stood hastily and gently grabbed his forearm as he was turning away, prompting him to face them, cocking a curious brow in their direction.

“One moment…there was something I wanted to give you.” Lucanis misses the calloused palm as it retreats, Rook moving to the end of the bench to pick up the cloth bundle they’d brought with them. Returning to present it to him, laid across their palms. They looked almost nervous, not quite meeting his eyes as they explained further. “I was waiting for the right moment, and now seemed like a good time.”

Lucanis lifted the wrapped bundle from their hands with care, the weight surprising him as Rook’s hands fell away. As soon as it was in his palms, he had a suspicion as to what it was; the shape and balance of a blade even more familiar than the smell of fresh coffee to him.

Glancing up, Rook was watching him intently now, eyes flicking across his face as he starts to unfold the fabric. He feels his eyes widen. Curiosity morphs into disbelief, being swiftly overtaken with almost childlike wonder as he reveals the blade fully.

“A wyvern tooth dagger?” His smile is probably giddy as he looks back up at Rook. He briefly catches their face softening before he’s back admiring the dagger, running a reverent finger along its delicate detailing, then up to test its wickedly sharp edge. The cloth flutters to the ground, unnoticed by him, as he finishes turning the dagger over in his hands in wonderment. “I loved wyverns as a boy. Caterina would never let me have one of these, though. I begged for her to let me have one as a pet. She said no. Obviously.”

-----

Rook watches the emotions wash over Lucanis’ face, not sure why they’re so nervous about the gift. They just needed him to know that they appreciated him. That while he thinks about everyone else, makes sure they are all taken care of, that he deserves that too.

They’re glad they waited for this private moment to hand it over, able to fully soak in the uninhibited delight overtaking Lucanis’ features, stare with adoring fondness as he handles the dagger almost reverently, touch gentle as he traces the etched filigree. His eyes shone, boyish with unrestrained emotion, as they periodically flickered up to Rook’s while he talked, not able to pry them from the dagger for long.

Rook’s voice is low and warm with affection, not wanting to disturb the moment by speaking too loud. “I saw you lingering on it at the market. You were getting things for everyone else, I couldn’t go without getting something for you too.” They admitted softly.

Lucanis apparently finishes his appreciation of the dagger for now, giving Rook his full attention. A glimmer of understanding as he thinks back to that trip to Treviso. “At the market…when you stayed behind?”

Rook nods mutely. Lucanis’ jaw works faintly as his eyes flick to the blade, as if he can’t decide what to say.

Rook places a warm hand on forearm, thinking they could both use the grounding touch. “It looked like you wanted it, but held yourself back. I wanted to make sure you knew that you deserve the things you want, not just the things you need.”

Lucanis released a quiet, punched out breath, searching Rook’s eyes for…something.

Rook feels their heart pounding against their ribs as they continue, Lucanis’ intense scrutiny different from when they were training earlier. “And now seemed like a good time. You agreed to help me train, and I wanted you to know how much I appreciate yo-“

A soft pair of lips cuts them off.

They’re frozen for a fraction of a second as the realisation sets in, the press of warmth and soft tickle of bristles long fantasised about, but nowhere near as perfect as the real thing.

Lucanis pulls away, feet settling back on the ground from the tiptoes he had to stand on to stretch up to Rook’s mouth. But Rook follows him down, hand cupping the side of his face softly as they lean down and lips meet again. Rook’s free hand reaches out for Lucanis’ waist, thumb circling absentmindedly. One of Lucanis’ still grips the dagger, holding it off to the side, away from vulnerable bodies. The other finds a home in Rook’s hair as he presses eagerly against Rook’s lips. Enthusiastic, if not experienced. Lips part, foreheads pressed together. Rook’s hum of contentment at Lucanis’ blunt fingernails scratching at their scalp breathed out across his lips, luxuriating in the closeness. Rook’s eyes opened to gaze down into Lucanis’, panting a soft laugh into the shared space between their lips.

“So you liked your present then?” They muttered softly, eyes creased in a blend of amusement and affection.

Lucanis pulled away, hand in their hair sliding down to caress the edge of their jaw, eyes molten. “The…appreciation is mutual.”

Lucanis can surely feel how fast their heart is beating as his hand slides down to their chest, calluses scratching deliciously on the bare skin exposed by their half open shirt. They wait, watching him with gentle affection as his eyebrows crease, clearly trying to figure out how to word something, content to feel Lucanis against them.

He seems to deliberate for a few more seconds before he speaks, soft and hesitant. “Rook…I haven’t done this before.” He looks away, uncertainty colouring his expression. Rook rubs a thumb soothingly across his cheek, hoping to reassure. He steels himself with a breath, hand moving from their chest to grasp the one on his cheek. Rook lets him commandeer it willingly. He meets their eyes as he brings Rook’s hand to his lips, pressing a delicate kiss to their knuckles. Rook’s stomach flutters at the gentle brush. His breath tickles across their hand as he continues. “I want…this...but…I fear you may need to be patient with me.”

He seems almost guilty at the admittance. Rook’s heart stutters as Lucanis seems to close off, as if already anticipating rejection. They can’t let him feel any doubt, and the flicker of resignation that crosses his face as they pull their hand from Lucanis’ feels like a cord tightening around their heart. But the soft exhale of relief as they pull him firmly into their chest, arms winding tight around him, relaxes that cord, in time with the release of tension they feel through Lucanis’ body. His face comes to nestle comfortably against Rook’s chest, free hand coming up to grasp loosely in the shirt at their lower back, wyvern tooth dagger still hanging loosely at his side.

Whispering into his hair, Rook reassures him. “Whatever you need.” A kiss pressed to the crown of his head. “However long you need.”

Lucanis shudders in a long breath, his shaky exhale warm against their chest. They continue to hold each other for a few more minutes, revelling in the intimacy and warmth. Eventually Lucanis starts to shift, and they slowly unwind limbs, reluctantly separating.

He looks down at the almost forgotten wyvern dagger in his hand. A pleased smile spreading across his face once more. He pats Rook’s chest lightly. “We need to wash up,” he starts making his way over to the door, “and I owe you a thank you lunch.” He calls over his shoulder as he reaches the door.

Rook pauses from picking up their gear, head whipping up stare after his retreating back. They shout indignantly back. “No! You can’t thank me for the thank you.”

A throaty laugh echoes up from the stairway. “Yes I can.”

They can hear the smug smile in his voice. Rook shakes their head in exasperation, smile immovable on their face as they pick up their things and follow him out.

[raikiriwolfwrites]

Bitterness, Sweetened by Your Lips

Two cities beset by dragons leave Rook with a choice, but is it even really a choice?

Enby RookxLucanis

Chapter 3 - On Deadly Wings

Read on AO3

Lucanis skims the page and has barely registered the words ‘dragon’ and ‘Treviso’ on the missive from Teia, before he’s dropping it on his cot and rushing to strap the rest of his armour and weapons back on. Spite stirs at the edge of his vision, Lucanis’ agitation rousing and riling him.

We. Fight?

“They are attacking my people. They are going to pay for this.”

Spite’s cackling filled his ears, purple sparking around his eyes as he picked up his last blade, ripping the door open and running out into the courtyard.

The distinct sound of Neve’s steps moving swiftly out of her office draw his attention, her stave in one hand, a piece of paper crumpled in a white knuckled grip in the other.

“There’s a dragon in Minrathous!” she shouts across the courtyard as she throws the paper down.

“Treviso as well!” He calls back as they both make towards the main building, Lucanis reaching the doors first and throwing them open. Harding and Bellara startle where they were conversing by the bookshelves. Lucanis and Neve barely slowing as they run to the stairs leading to the eluvian room.

“What-” Harding turns to follow, sensing their urgency.

“Dragons are attacking!” Neve barks out as she follows Lucanis down.

Harding and Bellara share a sharp look and rush after them.

Rook stepped off the boat with their new monster hunter in tow, having familiarised him with the main areas of the crossroads that weren’t cut off by those strange growths they hadn’t managed to break through yet. He seemed nice enough, and from what they’d seen of the man in a fight, they could definitely use his skills. Assan swooped around the crossroads above their heads as they walked towards the Lighthouse, chatting amicably.

“So this is where you live, huh? In the Fade?” Davrin asked, looking around at the strange shifting landscapes and chunks of rock floating past the main island, Assan perching on one then diving off and soaring to the next, seemingly enjoying the vast open space to spread his wings, if his happy chirps were anything to go by.

“Yeah, it’s cozy. And the gods can’t find us here so we’re safe enough for now.” Rook led them up the stairs to the eluvian.

Davrin threw them a look, raising an eyebrow “Right. Never going to get used to that”

Rook stepped up to the lighthouse eluvian, making a large sweeping gesture with their arm. “And this is us.” They walked through side by side with Davrin “We’ll find you and Assan a nice-”

“Rook!”

Rook stopped short and looked forward sharply as Neve and Lucanis came to an abrupt halt in front of them. Harding and Bellara appearing in the doorway behind them.

“What’s wrong?” Rook looked between their teammates, Lucanis and Neve fully armoured and frantic, clearly in a hurry.

“Everything’s wrong. Treviso and Minrathous are both under attack.” Rook swears they can see purple creeping into the edges of Lucanis’ eyes.

Neve strode forward, level with Lucanis, “Blighted dragons. Two of them. Once for each city.” Her voice clipped, a chill emanated from her.

Rook’s brow pinched as they shook their head “Damn it. So the dragon at D’Meta’s Crossing wasn’t the only one.”

Lucanis took another step forward, body tense, “Treviso’s a merchant city. It has no defenses.” He pleaded, “And the canals run everywhere, If we don’t stop the dragon, people will die, my people. Either right away from the dragon. Or slowly after, from blight in the water. We need to go to Treviso.” The desperation shone in his eyes as he looked up at Rook, before Neve pushed up next to him, drawing his and Rook’s attention to her.

“And leave Minrathous to burn?” Frost inched along her stave, “You know the Shadow Dragons will fight. Right to the end. But we’re the only ones keeping the Venatori in check. And if we fail? The Venatori will take advantage.” She shook her head briefly and looked back up with a stony expression “There’s no time! I need to go home. I need to be in Minrathous.” She stepped past Rook, into the crossroads.

Lucanis moved to follow. “I must go to Treviso.” There was a flicker of resignation on his face as he took one last glance at Rook before his face hardened into the determined mask of the master assassin, “Go where you feel you must Rook. We cannot wait” and he sprinted through the eluvian.

Rook watched them go before snapping to attention and looking at the others. “Harding, Bellara, gear up, quick! We need to help them. Harding: take Davrin, gather whatever supplies you can, and then go to Minrathous to help Neve and the Shadow Dragons.”

Davrin gave a sharp nod and moved to follow Harding, “On it!” she threw over her shoulder as she immediately headed back out the door to grab her things.

“Bellara! Get whatever you need and head to Treviso, they could use your ranged support. Hurry!”

Rook heard her footsteps darting away and a muffled “Yep! Yeah, got it-” as they pivoted and ran straight through to the cross roads once more.

As Rook wove through the crossroads as fast as they could, they passed through the archway just in time to see Lucanis disappearing through the Treviso eluvian. Neve was only slightly ahead of Rook now. She heard their heavy footsteps, glanced back with a firm nod as she met their eyes, carrying on towards the eluvians. As she passed the mirror to Treviso and on to the one for dock town, she heard Rook’s footsteps slowing. She turned back to see Rook wasn’t following.

Making their way towards the Treviso eluvian, Rook was stopped in their tracks by Neve’s sharp voice “Wait! You’re not helping Minrathous? It’s our home!”

“Minrathous can handle itself, it has the Shadow Dragons, and you. The Shadows don’t need me.”

A look of grim understanding crosses Neve’s face, “But he does.” nodding towards the path to Treviso.

Rook couldn’t even pretend to look guilty as they inclined their head in acknowledgement “He doesn’t need me. But I can’t leave him to face it alone.” Rook turned towards the eluvian, calling back over their shoulder as they jogged towards it. “Minrathous is strong. The others are coming, and I’ll be there to help as soon as I can. Good luck.” with one final glance to Neve, they dive through.

A wall of noise hits Rook the second they step out into Treviso: the frantic bustle of movement everywhere, faint calls and cries as people rush to safety in the streets below, shouts as groups of Crows try to organise across rooftops.

Lucanis hadn’t made it far out of eluvian, surveying the city he calls home from the balcony of the Diamond. His head snapped towards the sound of footsteps, a look of surprise breaking through the muted dismay on his face as Rook comes running towards him.

“Rook? But I thought-“

The roar of a dragon cuts him off, the dark shape blotting out the sky as it tears across Treviso. Bolts of ice striking across the city in its path, leaving glistening trails of destruction. Lucanis shakes off his surprise, grabbing Rook’s arm briefly “We need to find Teia and Viago, they will have the best idea of the situation here.”

Rook claps a hand briefly over Lucanis’ “Then let’s move.”

The Crows inside the Cantori Diamond direct them across the rooftops to where Teia was last spotted. They race across rooftops that remain mostly unscathed for now, but not for long if they don’t stop this dragon soon.

“There!” Lucanis spots Teia down below in an open clearing, directing cells of Crows with brusque efficiency. Rook and Lucanis dropped down and made their way towards the dispersing gaggle of Crows.

Teia saw their approach and a brief look of relief passes over her face. “Lucanis, you got the message in time. And Rook, I’m glad you could help.” She looks up, scanning the sky for the dragon. “It is strong and fast. You must get its attention, then lure it to the ground.”

A clattering behind them drew their attention to Bellara approaching quickly across the courtyard.

“Bellara!” Rook called out, “Just in time, we’re bringing that dragon here, and then we’re bringing it down.” They drew out their mage knife, summoning their orb to their hand.

Teia met Rook’s eyes, “Draw up your courage. We will need it.” With that she turned and walked back to the remaining Crows, barking instructions as she went. Some scattered to gather allies, while remaining mages and archers started to climb up to vantage points around the courtyard.

Rook faced Lucanis and Bellara, lightning starting to spark along their blade “I think I have an idea to get its attention. Bellara, stay back and support. Lucanis?”

Lucanis nods, his blades a comfortable weight in his palms, wings unfurling at his back. As Rook heads out into the centre of the space, he follows. Spite flits towards Rook, vicious glee on his face as he watches lightning dancing across their form.

Yeessss. He hisses. We. FIGHT. Spite fades out of his sight, but Lucanis feels a sharpness to his senses as he and Spite focus on a singular goal, a now familiar strength bolstering him. Lucanis readies his blades, staying a good distance back as he feels Rook’s magic gathering.

Rook’s magic is almost tangible, whipping a storm around them as the smell of ozone permeates the air. Even now, so close to such strong magic, Lucanis wonders what’s different about it. Where most powerful magics cause itching or pain behind his eyes, he can sense Rook’s as a tingling pressure, strange, but not unpleasant. Sparks of lightning crackle off Rook as they summon it to them, the pressure building until they hurl a massive bolt of lightning to the sky with a roar. The surrounding area is illuminated in the electric blue burst of pure energy.

The plan seems to have worked, if the roars of the dragon growing louder, and louder is any indication. The lightning a beacon, luring the creature to their location. A dark shadow falls over them as the dragon swoops in low, Lucanis and Rook diving away from swiping claws as it passes.

A distant yell signals to the awaiting Crows, the dragon screeches as a barrage of spells and arrows aim for its wings. They’re powerful, and don’t seem overly damaged. But it’s enough to make its wingbeats falter, and bring it crashing down into the courtyard. Lucanis shares a determined look with Rook, violet blazing around the edges of his vision, as they race into the fray.

They stand in the centre of the battered courtyard, breathing heavily. The ground was littered with craters from the stomping footfalls of the dragon, not built to withstand the crushing weight of an angry beast of that size. Icy eruptions scar the arena, flakes of frost still drifting through the air, cooling sweat slicked skin. Rook and Lucanis scan the skies, alert; not trusting Ghilan'nain's call for retreat just yet.

Minutes pass. Nothing moves across the skyline of Treviso.

Elated shouts of triumph start to go up around them from the Crows on the walls, being echoed further across the city as word spreads. They hear Bellara come rushing over from where she had been slinging spells and arrows a safe distance from the dragon’s thrashing limbs. Content that the threat was gone for now: blades are sheathed, fighting stances relaxed, sighs of bone deep weariness expelled.

Rook looks at Lucanis and Bellara proudly, clasping a hand on their shoulders. Bellara bounces beneath their palm, still thrumming with energy. Lucanis returns the gesture with his nearest hand. The sound of Teia running over breaks their silent moment.

“You fought it off!”

Lucanis looks to the horizon where the dragon had fled, worry creasing his face. “If Ghilan’nain hadn’t called it away…”

Rook’s hand on his shoulder tightens, trying to pull him away from the slippery spiral of ‘what if’s’. “It’s more important that it stopped attacking the city.”

Teia nods firmly. “Everyone with a home that still stands will agree.”

Rook stretches out slightly, easing their sore muscles. “That thing was tough. It’ll be hard to put down for good.”

A look of determination settles on Lucanis’ face. “But now we know what we’re facing. We can prepare. And next time, we make it pay for what it did to Treviso.”

Teia turns to Rook, smiling gratefully. “And the Crows will lend any aid they can. We owe you for this one.”

Bellara looks around nervously “What about Minrathous? And Neve? Maybe there’s still time to help.”

The relief of one victory was swiftly stifled at the reminder of the other threats at hand. Rook’s expression hardened. “Bellara, go on ahead. We’ll make sure everything is under control here and be right behind you.”

She nodded quickly before darting off back towards the Diamond.

Teia assuring them that everything was well in hand and the Crows could handle the rest, Lucanis led Rook back across the rooftops of Treviso.

They reached the balcony where the eluvian stood, but a soft grip on Rook’s wrist stopped them before they could step further towards it. They turned back to see Lucanis taking in the city for a moment; the damage from the dragon was evident, but nothing that couldn’t be easily fixed. People were already out in the streets working to clear up rubble and aid the injured. Lucanis turned his head to look up at Rook, a softness to his gaze.

“Rook. What happened to Treviso would have been so much worse if you hadn’t arrived when you did. I cannot imagine how much worse.” Lucanis’ thumb rubbed at Rook’s wrist almost absentmindedly as he surveyed the skyline once more, before facing Rook fully. “You saved my home. Even though Minrathous is yours.”

“Minrathous can defend itself.” Rook’s other hand came to gently cradle Lucanis’ between his palms, “Besides, there are far more important things here I wanted to protect.” Their tone is lighthearted, but the sincerity shining in their eyes as they look down at Lucanis makes his heart stutter. He doesn’t know what expression is on his face as he looks up at Rook, a myriad of emotions coursing through him. But one in particular pushed for attention, an affection bubbling up from somewhere long buried and unfamiliar.

“There are no words that can convey the depth of my gratitude.” A gloved hand rises to their cheek, wiping away a drying trail of blood. A shallow cut from an errant shard of ice oozing slowly down the side of their face. Hand still gently cradling one cheek, Lucanis darted in and pressed a brief kiss to the other, as if afraid it would be rejected if he weren’t quick enough, “but thank you.” he rasped, voice thick with emotion before he pulled back.

Despite the dust, blood and sweat of the fight, the warmth on their cheek from the swift press of lips, and the scent of coffee settled around Rook. They inhaled softly in surprise, savouring his lingering scent.

Lucanis steps away “Come, Rook. You have done my city a great service…and me.” He gives Rook’s arm a brief squeeze before tugging them towards the eluvian. He misses the heat of Rook’s skin when he steps away, but they need to move. “Teia and Viago have things handled here. We should see to your city.” he glances at Rook with gratitude and warmth still shining in his eyes before passing through the eluvian, Rook close at his heels.

[raikiriwolfwrites]

Bitterness, Sweetened by Your Lips

A note from Teia leads Rook and Lucanis to Treviso once more.

Enby RookxLucanis

Read on AO3

Chapter 2 - Making Arrangements

Rook opened the door to the dining hall, intending to grab a quick snack to fuel them through a stack of missives they needed to check through. Lucanis brooding near the fire with his precious coffee wasn’t an unfamiliar sight, but he seemed especially out of sorts today as he sat against the edge of the table, coffee in one hand, a piece of paper in the other.

The sound of Rook’s entrance snapped him out of whatever trance he had slipped into, and he lifted his head from the words on the page to face Rook. They could feel their brows furrowing slightly in concern as they approached. “Everything ok Lucanis?”

His eyes darted back to the page quickly, tension visible in the way he held himself. After what seemed like a brief mental debate he met Rook’s eyes again.

“Rook, do you have a minute?”

Rook settled against the table next to him, not quite touching, but close enough that they could feel the heat of his body in the scant space between them. Hoping that their proximity could help ease whatever Lucanis was dealing with, while not having to look directly at them might give him the space to gather his thoughts. 

“Of course. Something wrong?”

“Teia wants to meet.” His words are clipped. Rook can’t place any emotion behind them, no inflection to hint at what this meeting might entail that has Lucanis so closed off.

“That doesn’t sound like a bad thing.” They probe gently, voice hesitant.

“She wants to plan Caterina’s funeral.”

“Oh…right.”

Well, that explains it. From what little Rook has gleaned about his relationship with Caterina, there was a mix of feelings there, but the grief is the freshest. Not that he would want to show it. Lucanis fidgeted uncharacteristically next to them as he found the words to ask what he wanted.

“If you don’t mind, I…could use some backup. In case Spite gets out of hand.”

Rook leaned into Lucanis' side, reassuring him with the gentle pressure. They hid a small smile at the feeling of more of Lucanis’ weight leaning back into them.

“Let’s not keep Teia waiting then.”

-----

That afternoon, Rook followed Lucanis to the Cantori Diamond, as Teia requested in her note. The area was quieter than Rook had ever seen it, no Crows milling around like usual. The only ones there seemed to be passing through, or on a specific task.

Teia and Illario were already waiting there for them. She looked up, bright as ever, as they approached.

“Good! You’re here.”

Lucanis greets her with a kiss on the cheek, the way Rook had seen many on the streets of Treviso do. “Thank you for making the arrangements, Teia.”

Teia squeezes his arm as he pulls away. “For Caterina…how could I do otherwise?” Her face falls slightly, softening in sympathy. “I’m so sorry, Lucanis. This must be such a blow.” She turns towards Rook, smiling warmly once more. “Rook, thank you for coming with him. I need one Dellamorte to plan this. His cousin has been no help at all.” She shoots Illario a sidelong look, and he looks slightly chastened.

“I’m sorry Teia. this is just…too much right now.”

The ghost of grief settles over Rook’s chest as they remember their own parents. They were too young to truly plan anything for a funeral themself, but having others to take over and get things done was something they were eternally grateful for. If they could offer even a fraction of that to Lucanis, they would. Looking to Teia, they spoke up. “If there’s anything I can do, just say the word.”

Teia pats an affectionate hand on Rook’s chest, shooting the two Dellamortes a pointed look. “You’re such a dear. I hope these two are paying attention.”

They’re glad for Teia keeping the mood lighter, Lucanis dwells enough as it is. Next to them they feel Lucanis tense as his brows furrow into a frown.

“Teia. Don’t flirt with my,” he pauses, eyes darting away as they often do when Spite’s talking to him. They feel the faint wash of spiritual magic just in front of them, indicating Spite’s manifestation there. His breath hitches slightly before he continues stiltedly, looking flustered, “…colleague.”

Teia smirks knowingly at Lucanis. “Jealous? Fine, to business, then. There’s a lot to plan. But first, I need the ashes.”

Illario looks surprised when she turns to him. “Ashes?”

“Maker help us, yes, the ashes! Caterina’s ashes. From the cremation?” Rook wonders how unhelpful Illario had been before they got here that she’s this frustrated with him already. Illario seems like his mind is elsewhere. Whereas Lucanis snapped into job mode as a distraction, Illario seems scatterbrained, like he’s thinking about too many things at once to focus here and now.

“Oh. Yes. Of course. I’ll get them to you right away.”

Illario looks like he’s about to make a swift exit, caves under pressure indeed, but Lucanis’ words stop him. “Illario…what happened?”

“What do you mean?”

“Caterina. How…? How did the Venatori get to her? When? Where? In the estate? In the city? How did they get past our people? What did they use? Poison? Blades? I need to know.”

He seems to be spiralling slightly, too much changed in the time he’s been gone, and not enough information to take any tangible steps forward. Rook can feel the tension rising again, like at the café. Tempers starting to fray. 

“Cousin, stop. You can’t dwell on this. It’ll drive you mad.”

“I’m not dwelling. Zara killed the First Talon. I have to know how if I’m going to stop her.”

“I told you, I’m handling it.”

Thankfully, Teia intervenes before Rook feels the need to. She’s known the both of them far longer, and they don’t know how well Illario would take to being told to calm down by them in this state, at least as a Talon he has to respect her words. “Boys! Enough of this. We have other things to discuss.”

“My apologies, Andarateia. Continue without me. I’ll…get you the ashes.”

His words are quick, obviously eager to flee. They’re barely out of his mouth before he’s turning and striding off. The tension remains, thick in the stillness of the room. Turning to Lucanis, they can see the muscles twitching in his jaw as it clenches; the second time in a week that meeting with Illario has left him with more questions than answers. 

“How are you holding up?”

Lucanis takes a deep breath, schooling his features as he forces his body to relax again. The frustration being replaced with weariness and concern. “I’ll be fine. Better, once we kill Zara Renata. It’s him I'm worried about.” He looks over to the stairway Illario escaped down sadly.

Teia frowned after him too. “Illario can be a handful, but this…the only time I’ve seen him like this was when Lucanis died.” She tries to lighten the mood again. “You’re worrying aren’t you? What will people say if they hear ‘the Demon of Vyrantium’ has a big, soft heart?”

Rook hides a smile, they’ve seen exactly how much care Lucanis shows for the people around him. Lucanis doesn’t react to her teasing though, still looking to where Illario left.

“He’s been careless at times, but never when his own life was on the line. Zara took down the First Talon. Anyone could be next. And my cousin doesn’t want to think about it.”

Realising the battle with Lucanis’ mood is futile for the moment, she deflates slightly. ”You have a point. It’s not like Illario to ignore a knife coming at him.”

Lucanis broods a moment longer before mentally shaking himself, keen to get back to the job they came here to do. Apparently it would just be him representing the Dellamortes for the planning. Rook resolute to support him in any way he needed. He turns to Teia.

“What do you need from me for the funeral?”

She gestures over to the empty seating area, walking over to a cabinet off to the side. “Come, I'll get us some drinks and we can make the arrangements.”

-----

There isn’t too much to discuss in the end. Caterina had most of it planned already, Teia informed them. She had seemed a practical woman at the brief meeting Rook had had with her, and knowing the life of a Crow he wasn’t surprised she would have things arranged in advance. So much had happened in that short time, to think it had only been a couple of weeks since meeting Lucanis in the Ossuary. 

Rook mostly listened as Lucanis and Teia went over details. They gave an opinion if asked, but primarily were a solid presence at Lucanis’ side. Every now and then he would lean into Rook as if reassuring himself and it would send flutters through their chest. Rook found it amusing when Teia slipped into calling Caterina ‘Nonna’, having only ever heard Lucanis refer to her by her name, title, or a factual statement on her being his grandmother. But they were glad Lucanis had someone else like family to him, since Illario was so out of it at the moment. Lucanis seemed content to let Teia take the lead, and she seemed more than happy to plan. All the while gently teasing him until the last of the tension drained away. 

-----

A few glasses of wine later, the arrangements were done, the atmosphere was comfortable, and Rook was loathing the idea of leaving. Lucanis was warm against their side on the sofa they rested on, Teia perched comfortably on the arm next to them telling stories of misadventures of her fledglings since he’d been gone.

Out of the corner of their eye they saw Viago walk past, smiling fondly at her as she laughed loudly at her own story, wine glass waving precariously as she embellished with her hands, but not a drop being spilt. Rook idly wondered if that was a part of Crow training, they’d have to ask Lucanis. 

-----

Sounds of movement from the casino below are their sign to finish up. Teia sweeps all the paperwork together as she stands, heading across through the archway with Rook and Lucanis in tow, to the table where Viago stands, perusing through reports.

He turns to face them as Teia comes to a stop beside him. Rook and Lucanis stand a short distance away, Lucanis breaking the silence.

“Our house owes you for handling all of this.”

Teia waves Lucanis off. “Caterina was family. Can you imagine what she’d say if she saw us all like this?”

“She’d be furious. Especially at Illario. As usual.” 

Rook can’t help but chuckle along with them. “How did you stay on her good side?”

He gives a short laugh, sharing a look with Teia. “What good side?”

“To hear Caterina tell it, Lucanis could do no wrong.”

“It’s easy to look good standing next to my cousin.” 

Rook watched the easy banter fondly, earlier dour moods banished completely.

“I’ll have my people keep an eye on him for you.”

“Thank you, Teia.”

“Go on. I’ll let you know if something comes up.”

She shooed them towards the balcony housing the Eluvian. Smiling and saying their goodbyes they headed back towards the Lighthouse.

-----

Lucanis and Rook away across the Diamond. Side by side, brushing arms like they can’t help but gravitate towards each other until they round the corner, out of sight. Teia watches them go, smirk on her face and a mischievous glint in her eye. She looks up to Viago, his face etched with a look of suspicion as he watches her. She raises an eyebrow in question.

“I don’t like that look on you.”

Making the most of the upper levels still being mostly deserted, she closes in to a less professional distance. She flashes him a coy look, stating with surety. “You like every look on me.”

Viago rolls his eyes with an affectionate sigh, yet can’t bring himself to even pretend to refute it. Teia’s grin grows, taking his silence for the agreement that it is. Viago slips his hand into one of Teia’s, brushing his thumb over her knuckles in quiet affection. “What are you up to with those two?”

Leaning up towards him, she runs a finger down his chest. He leans down obligingly. Closing the distance between them, she breathes against his lips. “Let’s just say I know the look of a man denying himself what he wants.”

With an exasperated huff and another fond eye roll he closes the final inch between them, stealing a quick kiss.

Viago retreats back to a comfortable distance, hands still slightly clasped at their sides. “Well I hope for his sake he doesn’t waste as much time.”

Teia tosses her hair back with a throaty chuckle. “At least you got there in the end.”

Looking down at her, he can’t help but agree.

[raikiriwolfwrites]

Bitterness, Sweetened by Your Lips

The taste of coffee has never appealed to Rook, but maybe opinions change as they grow closer to a certain coffee addicted Crow.

Enby RookxLucanis

Chapter 1 - Coffee With the Crows

Read on AO3

“Rook, Illario sent word. He’s got intel on Zara. He wants to meet up. Fancy a trip to Treviso?” “Sounds like fun.”

Rook steps out through the eluvian into the fresh evening air of Treviso, Lucanis in step beside them, shoulders brushing as they chatted idly. Passing through the Diamond, Rook sends a wave over towards Teia and Viago across the room as they head towards the stairs for the zip lines. Lucanis sees where Rook’s attention has gone and looks over to the pair, offering a quick smile and nod, soon back on task. Teia returned the wave with a friendly smile, Viago sparing a brief glance away from Teia to offer a nod of acknowledgement before focusing back on her. Teia catches Rook’s eye before they turn away, throwing them a flirty wink at seeing the two of them travelling alone, clearly not here on a serious mission. At Viago’s raised eyebrow she answers with a nonchalant shrug before returning to their previous discussion.

-----

The Treviso market is different from the ones Rook was used to visiting in Dock Town, or wherever else in Tevinter the Shadow Dragons sent him on jobs. The lanterns bathing the area in an inviting glow. They took everything in, eager to actually look around now that they had the chance. Turning to Lucanis, they smiled at the ease of tension from his brows from the comfort of being home. Rook followed along as Lucanis traversed the bustling market like a cat slinking through a crowd. He led them to a more open space where they had a good view of what the market had to offer.

Lucanis looked up at Rook beside him. “Illario will probably be a while, so I thought we could get some shopping done while we wait. There are some things I wanted to get for the Lighthouse.”

“Of course. Lead the way.” A relaxed smile and a gentle hand on his lower back urged him on as he stepped back into the crowd. Rook stayed close behind, Lucanis could feel the warmth emanating from them as they wandered to his first destination. He made his way through a few stalls selling fresh ingredients, selecting enough to make a few of his favourite dishes and picking out a few fish that Bellara had mentioned, handing over the coin. “Bellara mentioned a Dalish seafood recipe she wants to make.” He mentioned conversationally as the merchant picked out the items. The purchases wrapped up and placed in his hands, only to be swiftly removed again. Lucanis blinked up at Rook as they shrugged off their satchel and placed it carefully inside. They gave a bright grin and a gesture to continue. Lucanis sighed in mock exasperation, a faint smile creeping up the corner on his mouth before leading the way to the next stop.

“I never thought I’d see the legendary Demon of Vyrantium grocery shopping.” Rook joked, nudging him with their shoulder as they walked.

Lucanis shot them a sidelong glance. “Have you seen what they eat? It’s a miracle you didn’t all starve before you hired me.”

The fruit seller had a good selection, Lucanis picked out a few different things, not sure yet what everyone’s preferences were and wanting to keep the options open. He saw Rook’s attention lingering on a display of crisp, red apples and gestured for a few more of them to be added to the collection.

As the merchant packed up the fruit for him he turned to Rook. “All Neve eats is fish. It’s a wonder the detective hasn’t discovered scurvy yet.”

Lucanis’ stomach flutters from the laugh that garners out of Rook, he files the memory of that sound away. The wrapped up fruit being handed over the stall breaks him out of his reverie, Rook immediately intercepting it to pack away with the rest before Lucanis even reaches out.

“Not only fish, don’t forget the coffee.”

Lucanis' grumbled, “That isn’t coffee.” as he steps away from the stall elicits another laugh, Lucanis can’t help the smug satisfaction of knowing he made Rook laugh, twice, hiding the look on his face by turning away to lead them onward again.

Crossing the market to a new row nearer the edge, Lucanis distantly notes how comfortable he feels with Rook as his shadow. Even as the crowd thins out they remain a solid presence close behind him. The realisation that he trusts Rook with his back, despite having only known them such a short while; he could probably count the others who held that honour on one hand. Spikes of faint agitation from Spite niggle in his head, seemingly unhappy about having to wait for information on Zara when they could be going after her now. But Rook’s presence always seems to mellow the sharpest edges of Spite’s anger, allowing Lucanis to easily push it away for the moment, able to enjoy the city he’s missed for a year.

Rook seems fascinated by the display of plants and herbs at the stall Lucanis leads them to next, fingers hovering over the leaves. Rook looks over at him as he sweeps a critical eye over what they have, deciding which ones he needs. “So what are these for?”

Lucanis gestures to the ones he wants, “Herbs for cooking. You can buy them, but it’s always better fresh.” He pointed to one in particular. “ And this one is spearmint, it can also help bad dreams, I thought it might be good for Harding.” Rook nods along, a soft smile growing on their face at the consideration he has for the team, offering up their bag again for the purchases.

Another brief scan over the market and Lucanis is confident he got everything he needed. “That’s everything I had on my list, but we probably have a little more time if you wanted to keep looking?”

An enthusiastic nod from Rook has them perusing the remaining stands across the market. At the blacksmith’s stall, Lucanis lingers. He looks across the table of various blades, finely crafted for all manner of tasks. An unusual dagger snags his attention and he squints closer at it. Is that? A wyvern tooth dagger! Memories surface from his childhood, of him begging Caterina to let him have a pet wyvern. He stares at the dagger wistfully for a moment longer before moving over to a nice collection of razor sharp kitchen knives. He straightens up to enquire how much they are from the smith, out of the corner of his eye he sees Rook watching him intently, a calculating look on their face. He brushes it off. They’re probably just lost in thought about something. Handing over the coin he accepts the cloth bundle of knives and deposits it into Rook’s waiting bag with a grateful smile.

“Well, shall we go meet my cousin?”

Rook hesitates as Lucanis starts moving away, glancing back at the blacksmith. They flash Lucanis a reassuring smile. “Go on ahead, I’ll catch up with you in a moment. I just want to ask a quick question while we’re here.”

With an inquisitive head tilt, Lucanis acquiesces. “Very well, I’ll meet you near the café.” He sees Rook turn back and start talking to the smith as he slips back into the crowd to meander over towards Café Pietra.

Rook is true to their word. A few short minutes after he has taken up residence against the wall near the entrance to the café they come striding into sight, tucking a jar into one of their pouches. At Lucanis’ questioning look they gesture to their mage knife. “He had a recommendation for a blade oil, apparently it’s a favourite of mages within the crows. Some enchantment that helps channel magic through the blade better.” They offer with a shrug. With a faint hum of understanding he pushes off the wall, inclining his head towards the entryway ahead. “Illario should be here by now. Let’s go before he gets himself in trouble.”

Lucanis leads them through an archway into a quaint little square, walkway surrounded by shrubs and flowers, lit softly by lamplight, people chatting at tables off to one side. Rook found themselves relaxing, enjoying the ambience and the cool evening air.

“Café Pietra is just ahead.” Lucanis nodded to the well lit doorway up ahead.

“That’s where we’re meeting your cousin? Why not the casino?”

“House Cantori has many talents. Making coffee is not one of them.” Rook makes a soft noise of amusement as they push open the door. Through the entrance it opens out into an area with small tables looking out onto a beautiful view of the canals, buildings on the opposite bank silhouetted against the twilight sky. The illumination provided by fireflies dancing in the air, and the bobbing lanterns strung onto gondolas drifting lazily through the water, made a more enchanting sight than any of the extravagant mage-lights of Minrathous. Lucanis takes in the pause and look of wonder on Rook’s face with a sense of pride in the beauty of his city, and a touch of unnameable warmth at getting to be the one to share it with Rook. He looks on fondly as they stop briefly to offer their hand to one of the cats lounging on the stones still warm from the day's sun, petting it softly when it acquiesces to their touch, before standing and heading out to the open air of the café.

-----

Rook spotted Illario at one of the tables and started to make their way over. Illario opening his arms in greeting as Rook and Lucanis draw close, gesturing to the seats. He looked friendly enough, but the warmth of his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes the way Lucanis’ did. Rook pulled out the seat opposite as Lucanis sat between them.

“Finally! I thought you might leave me here all by my lonesome.”

“Please. You think I’d ever pass up Café Pietra’s coffee?”

Illario turned to them with a look of faux disappointment. “You see Rook? My cousin is all stomach and no heart.”

Thinking back to the bag they had tucked away with things bought for all the members of the Lighthouse, caring about them and their unspoken needs despite having known them for so short a time, Rook couldn’t help but think nothing could be further from the truth. Still, they flashed a fleeting, if tight, smile towards him at the jibe.

“Don’t mind him. Illario cannot appreciate anything but himself.”

Lucanis seemed to ease into the bickering comfortably with a look of fond exasperation, the year of separation seemingly not breaking years of habit. Lucanis turned to them, a contained excitement simmering in his eyes.

“They serve a specialty roast here. Andoral’s Breath. Bitter and sweet, like a kiss goodbye. You should try it”

Lucanis looked at them with a sweetly excited, soft smile on his face as he talked. Rook managed not to blurt out their first thought: I don’t care what the kiss tastes like if it’s coming from you. They drag their mind away from how inviting his lips look, and whether his beard would be soft, or scratch deliciously against their face. They try to think about the bitter coffee they’ve been given by other Shadow Dragons while on jobs, making a slight face.

“Never been my favourite, I prefer things a little sweeter.” Sweet like you.

The mock gasp and hand rising to his chest in offense is betrayed by the smile pulling at his lips. They really need to get a hold of themself. They’d never been this immediately taken with someone, there was just something about this man that called to them so deeply.

Dropping his charade, Lucanis smiled openly at them. “They have cioccolata calda. It was my favourite drink as a child.”

The slight teasing fondness in his tone on the second part of that wasn’t lost on Rook. But they would take any amount of teasing if it meant Lucanis was comfortable enough to drop the professional veneer around them.

“I think you’re trying to shame me, but it sounds delicious. I’m ordering that.”

Out of the corner of their eye they could see Illario sitting stiffly, a slight frown settling on his face, eyes darting between the two of them at the easy banter they shared. The genial smile is back as Rook turns towards him.

Keeping the light-hearted tone and expression they address the two Crows in front of them, voice lowered. “I take it there’s a reason we haven’t discussed why we’re here?”

Lucanis hums softly in agreement, reclining in his seat as he casually scans the crowd of patrons. “We’re still being spied on.”

Illario’s eyes follow someone leaving the café. “No. The last one just left. Couldn’t take your coffee talk.”

Professional mask settling into place Lucanis addresses Illario. “So. You have something?”

“The Crows I sent after Zara have picked up her trail. They say she’s gone to Vyrantium.”

Rook frowns, deep in thought. Something about that didn’t add up, unless she had access to the eluvian network… “If she was here in Treviso to kill Caterina, she can’t be in Vyrantium already.”

Lucanis nods as Rook speaks, clearly having the same suspicions. “Rook’s right. Zara’s given you a false lead, cousin.”

Illario immediately stiffens and turns defensive, the mask of ease slipping from his face. “You have better information?” Rook doesn’t know him well enough to tell if the change is just at being doubted, being disagreed with, or something deeper. They make a note to ask Lucanis later.

“We’re compromised. There’s no other way Zara could even touch Caterina. You need your eyes here. In Antiva.”

“Zara would never be foolish enough to stay. Not with you out for blood.”

“Of course she would. If the Crows protecting her are here.”

Rook watches the cousins argue stubbornly. Lucanis seems to be worried about the threat to their family, understandably wanting to be cautious with events so fresh. They can’t quite figure out Illario though. They expected a trained assassin to be more suspicious of the danger. Illario disrupts their contemplation by turning and addressing them once more.

“Rook, reason with him, would you? He’s being paranoid.”

“I am not paranoid! She came after me. She came after Caterina. She will come for you too.”

“If it’ll make you feel better, I’ll clean house, all right? Leave this to me.”

Rook doesn’t even have a chance to get a word in before Illario is storming off. They watch him go then throw an incredulous look across the table. Lucanis sighs tiredly in response. “He always caves under pressure.”

Rook couldn’t help but want to reassure him after that tense discussion, having nothing else to offer. Illario gave them no new information they could use to make an actual plan, no closer to Zara than when they stepped into the café. Laying a hand over Lucanis’, resting on the table between them, they give it a solid squeeze. “Zara’s not going to get Illario, and she’s not getting away with anything she’s done. I promise.”

Lucanis seems weary from the turn of their meeting, but grateful for the sentiment. “Don’t promise. But thank you.”

Standing up, Rook moves their hand to rest on his shoulder as they walk past, heading towards the bar. Pausing briefly they catch Lucanis’ eye. “Andoral’s Breath, yes?” They feel Lucanis start to shift under their palm, clearly about to try and get up himself, but a gentle pressure and a sharp look is all it takes for him to relax with a small smile and a reluctant nod. With another gentle squeeze on his shoulder they release him and go to order their drinks. They catch Lucanis watching as they chat with the man preparing them, shooting him a quick smile.

Rook has barely put Lucanis’ coffee down in front of him before it’s in his hands. As Rook takes their seat again, he’s cradling the cup against his chest, taking a deep inhale and releasing it with a pleased sigh. Rook suppresses a chuckle, he hadn’t even seemed that relieved when he breathed in fresh air for the first time when they got out of the Ossuary.

Letting the cioccolata calda warm their hands, they watch Lucanis take a reverent sip of his coffee. Savouring the look on his face, as he savours the drink with his eyes closed in bliss. It was an endearing sight. How can he slice through a swathe of Venatori with such precise, efficient violence, then look so sweet nursing a cup of coffee.

They let him have a few moments to enjoy his drink, and try and wrangle the probably completely besotted look on their face into something more neutral, before interrupting. Warm brown eyes, not dissimilar to the liquid depths of his cup meet theirs as their voice breaks him out of his reverie.

“Bitter and sweet, you called that blend. Like a kiss goodbye. So what would a first kiss be?”

Rook can’t help the dart of their eyes to the soft, inviting sheen of his lips as he sweeps the remnants of coffee off with a quick flick of his tongue.

The immediacy of his answer surprises them. They dare to hope that, just maybe, they hadn’t been the only one beset with thoughts of first kisses in their time together. “Honey and lavender cream. Sweet, intriguing…And you?” His voice is a deep purr, Rook has to force themself to keep listening to the actual words and not just how much they want to hear that voice whispering things against their ear somewhere far more private. ”How would you describe it?”

They take a moment to recollect their thoughts, it had been years since they were close enough to anyone for a first kiss, let alone anything more. But oh how Lucanis made them yearn to taste one in a way that they’d never felt before. “First kisses? It’s been a while. I might need a refresher.”

They took a sip of the hot chocolate, the flavour rich and sweet on their tongue, silky smooth and delicious. Lucanis chuckled and they couldn’t say which warmed their insides more, the drink, or that sound. Either way they savoured both.

“I see. You lead an adventurous life.”

“No more than you I’m guessing? Our work is similar in a way. Jobs with the Shadows aren’t quite as official as your contracts, but do often end up with someone dead.”

Lucanis looks wistfully into his cup. “I’ve always thought that to live truly is to live fully. But even before I was captured, my life was not really my own. So much had been determined for me”

“Being grandson to the First Talon must come with a lot of baggage.”

“And when I proved I could carry it, the expectations only grew.”

Rook could empathise with that. Working with Varric, proving themself capable, and then suddenly being thrust into the lead of this ragtag group was a heavy burden; but the thought of who might be caught underneath it if they gave in and dropped the weight kept them going, no matter how much more got piled on top.

The image of a hip high Lucanis, dagger in a hand far too young, but grimly bearing the weight of the family expectations as they grew, and grew over the years, broke their heart. They ran an appreciative eye over the man before him, the one who could slay the worst people the world had to throw at him without batting an eyelash, and then sit down at a café holding a simple cup of coffee like it was sacred. Who would go grocery shopping for a team of people who were practically strangers, but still buy things with them in mind. This wasn’t the place to try and wax poetic about how much awe Rook held for him, or the time. They managed to restrain their feelings enough to reply simply, but earnestly, holding Lucanis' gaze steadily.

“It can’t have been easy. But it’s forged a man of strength and principle. That’s no bad thing.”

“Not when I hear that from you.” Rook’s not sure if it’s the faintest hint of a blush on Lucanis’ cheeks or just their eyes playing tricks in the warm lamplight. “How’s your cioccolata calda?”

Rook takes a final sip to finish their drink, a content sigh escaping as they lower the cup to the table. They glance up through their lashes coyly as they mimic some of Lucanis’ earlier words. “Just sweet enough to intrigue me.” That’s definitely a flush on his cheeks now, but Rook decides to take pity on him. “Ready to head back to the Lighthouse?”

“Almost.” He takes one last deep inhale as he swirls the remnants of his coffee before tipping his head back to down the last of his drink, giving Rook a perfect view of his whiskered throat working as he swallows.

With both cups empty on the table, the two make their way back across Treviso, enjoying the companionable walk through the bustling streets, rather than the rooftops above. Both basking in the rare moment of peace.

-----

Entering the Cantori Diamond with Rook at his side, Lucanis feels the layers of professionalism and responsibility working their way back onto his shoulders with every step he takes. The tension from their meeting with Illario long forgotten in favour of the pleasant buzz from the time spent with Rook before and after. Even Spite has seemed calmed, barely a whisper in the back of his mind. The only time he made his presence known was when the intel from Illario seemed to be a dead end. Spite’s displeasure made him a bit sharper with his cousin than he might have been otherwise, but Illario storming off in a huff got him more time with Rook, so he can’t even be that annoyed at him. The tension was now worming its way back to the forefront as they entered the upper levels of the casino; being able to take a brief reprieve from the mantle of responsibility was nice, but short lived.

Teia and Viago spotted them coming up the stairs and Lucanis couldn’t hold in the light sigh of resignation at the sharp head tilt Viago gave him, beckoning him over. Back to business then. Nudging Rook he gestured over to the pair with an incline of his head and understanding dawned on their face, following him around the balcony. Viago was already at the table, covered in maps and reports, when Lucanis stepped into their space, so he immediately joined him there.

He kept an eye on Rook in his periphery as Viago went over updates on the Antaam invasion, plans, and intel from scouts. He nodded along, making sounds of agreement appropriately as he saw Rook wander over to Teia. They were talking quietly. Teia nodded along to whatever Rook was saying. A laugh from Teia drew his eyes fully for a moment, just long enough to see her smiling warmly at Rook and giving them a cheeky wink. He thought he saw a darkening of Rook’s cheeks but couldn’t risk giving himself away staring to check. A flare of possessiveness sparks in his chest, possibly kindled by Spite, but honestly he couldn’t say. No. Teia flirts with everyone. They’re just being friendly. His eyes dutifully returned to Viago’s papers, pushing that surge of jealousy to the side, still mostly managing to pay attention to what he was saying about the moving of supplies and possible links to whoever helped the Antaam into the city.

He swears he sees Rook slip something into her hand as their friendly chat continues, but he firmly focuses back on Viago as he winds up his report.

They both stood tall from where they’d hunched over the table. Seeing that they’re done, Teia and Rook wander over, Rook taking their place at Lucanis’ side. A tension he didn’t realise was there between his shoulders, eased slightly at their proximity. He clasped Viago’s forearm firmly. “Once you have something, you know how to get word to us.”

Rook nods in agreement. “Just say the word, and we’ll be here.”

Viago grips his forearm with a brief squeeze and a promise. “Treviso will be free.” They release each other's arms and he offers the pair of Crows a small smile as he turns to go to the eluvian, Rook close behind. He ignores the tightening in his gut that forms at the wink he saw Teia shoot at Rook as they said their goodbyes. The knot loosening every time their arms brush as they walk side by side back to the crossroads.

-----

The next morning, Lucanis steps out of the pantry to prepare his morning coffee. He stops short at the sight of something out of place in his normally immaculately organised cooking space. Next to the kettle, there’s a large jar. Glossy, purple glazed ceramic, embellished with black scorched feathers tumbling across the surface. Behind it sits a matching purple mug. He faintly recognises the style from an artisan in Treviso, and it’s clearly meant for him.

Admiring it for a moment, he traces the feather marks with his fingertips before picking it up. The weight surprises him, it’s full of something. Something rattling faintly as he moves it. Putting it back on the counter he removes the lid carefully. The distinct aroma catches his nose before it’s off far enough for his eyes to even register the coffee beans packed inside, a giddy smile breaking out across his face. He takes a deep inhale as the familiar scent of Andoral’s Breath greets him.

A scrap of paper catches his eye, tucked into the side of the jar. He plucks it out with curious fingers. Unfolding it, he recognises the sloping script as he smooths out the creases. Warmth bubbles up inside his chest as he reads the short note.

-----

Special order for you. Don’t worry, it won’t run out.

That one is worth keeping hold of.

-T

-----

Lucanis is glad no one is awake yet to see him bustling around the kitchen making his coffee, he wouldn’t be able to hold back the wide smile and slight sheen in his eyes if he tried. And if his strangely chipper mood the rest of the day made the others give him wary looks? Well, the delighted, indulgent look he got from Rook when they saw him cradling his new coffee mug, the dining hall infused with the scent of Andoral’s Breath, made it more than worth it.

[raikiriwolfwrites]

Aerewyn (Aeryn) ‘Rook’ Mercar

They/them

Age: 32

Class: Mage (spellblade, favours lightning magic)

Faction: Shadow Dragons

Romance: Lucanis