#Lucanis x bishop

[basic-x-witch]

The Twin's Gambit

Chapter Two: Sadness Consumes Her

TW/ depression & references to off-page self unaliving attempt 

Day 3 after losing Rook

The voices carried down the corridor, sharp edges of desperation and anger cutting through the muffled quiet of the lighthouse.

“Lucanis, please. I simply must speak to Bishop. The sooner we begin brainstorming solutions, the sooner we can set our minds to rescuing Rook!” Emmrich’s voice was raw and strained, his usual composure unraveling further with each word as he mindlessly figited with the small, black, stone, castle shaped chess piece in his hand. He was always yelling these days. Nyx didn’t think he meant to, but it seemed like he couldn’t help himself anymore.

“Mierda, Emmrich,” Lucanis replied, his tone low and deliberate, a sharp contrast. “She’s possessed by a despair demon, and her twin sister sacrificed herself to an elven god to save her. She needs time. She’s not ready.”

Nyx rolled over in her bed, pulling the blanket tighter around herself. Even the muted light filtering through the enchanted walls felt oppressive. Everyone was so loud. Couldn’t they see she just needed silence? She wished they would all just… leave.

“Every moment we wait for her to grow up and get her emotions in check is another moment we’re wasting—and Nymphadora could be dying!”

The words were like a thunderclap. The lighthouse seemed to hold its breath, the ever-present hum of magic fading into an eerie silence. The stillness pressed against her ears like a physical weight.

“You are not the only one who cares about Rook,” Lucanis hissed, his voice colder now, sharper. “And if you think for one second that you can take your grief out on Bishop, I’ll remind you why they call me the mage killer. You and I know better than anyone that this isn’t something she can just ‘get over.’”

“Enough!” Another voice, Davrin’s, interjected with firm authority. “Both of you need to stop. Fighting isn’t helping anyone. Least of all Rook.”

Nyx stared blankly at the wall, her mind detached from the argument unfolding outside her door. Their voices rose and fell, but the meaning of their words slipped through her fingers, ungraspable. She let her thoughts wander instead.

The paint on the lighthouse walls—could it even be changed? Probably not. What kind of paint would even work on magical walls? Something enchanted, perhaps?

Was time even passing?

It was impossible to tell anymore. Days felt like minutes. Minutes stretched into eternity. She felt weightless and heavy all at once, sinking into her mattress as if the bed might swallow her whole. That didn’t sound so bad. At least it would be quiet.

_____

The door to her room creaked open, the beam of light from the hallway cutting through the dimness and falling squarely across her eyes. Nyx winced but didn’t move, staring at the wall as though the light wasn’t there.

“Bishop? Can I come in?” Lucanis’ voice was soft, a quiet unfamiliarity layered beneath his usual cadence.

She didn’t respond. Words felt like too much effort, he either would come in and leave when she didn’t respond, or he would leave now and save them both the trouble, just like the others had.

 If the lighthouse could be painted, what color would she choose? Maybe green—no, purple. Purple was better. It would feel like night, like home. A blend of the Mourn Watch and the Antiva Crows regalia she came to appreciate.

The Mourn Watch. The Crows.

Her chest tightened. Has anyone told Vorgoth and Myrna? Their biological father, Castello de Riva, did he know? Surely someone had, but the thought stuck in her mind like a barb.

Her face was wet. Tears. She didn’t even realize she’d been crying until she blinked and felt the dampness on her cheeks.

Lucanis stepped inside anyway, carefully navigating the chaos of the room. He dodged the overturned chair, stepped over the scattered books, and paused beside her bed. She barely noticed him, her gaze fixed somewhere past him, unfocused. Was this why Emmrich was angry? Because of the mess she’d made with the books? No… her father would have been disappointed, though. Right. Her father, Vorgoth.

“Bishop, did you hear me?” Lucanis’ voice came closer, hesitant but steady. He hovered beside the bed, unsure of himself. He’d never been in her room before. Maybe he’d come in more often if the walls were purple. “Nyx… are you alright?”

She sat up so suddenly that Lucanis jumped back, narrowly avoiding her head colliding with his face. Nyx swung her legs over the edge of the bed and stood, her movements jerky and rushed. Armor—still on. Good. There was something crusted on her sleeve. Blood? Maybe. It didn’t matter. Her eyes darted around the room, scanning the wreckage of books and furniture.

“Lucanis, where are my shoes?” Her voice cracked, hoarse, and uneven from disuse.

“Your… shoes?” His confusion was evident. “Nyx, what-?”

“My shoes, Lucanis. I need them. I have to go.”

“Go where?” His voice shifted, tightening with an edge as Spite surfaced. “The little bird. Flying away. So very good at losing chess pieces, aren’t we?”

“I have to go home!” she snapped, her voice rising as panic bubbled over. “My dad doesn’t know. Someone has to tell him. I need to go now!”

“Nyx.” Lucanis stepped closer, his voice softening again, grounding her. “We told him. He knows. It’s okay.” he says calmly “Plus I sent word personally to the de Riva house. Viago said he would inform Castello. He would want to know..”

“No, you don’t understand.” She shook her head, frantic. Her eyes darted around the room, searching for something she couldn’t find. “Where are they? Where are my shoes?”

“Nyx.”

His hands found her face. She flinched at the coldness of his touch, startled. Lucanis rarely touched her. Hesitation, or maybe caution, was his nature. But now his hands were firm, steady, holding her still as if she might drift away without them. His eyes locked onto hers, and she couldn’t look away.

“It’s midnight in Nevarra,” he said gently. “I’ll take you tomorrow. I promise I’ll take you to see Vorgoth tomorrow.”

His sincerity cut through the haze, anchoring her. It was always like this with him. Lucanis spoke, and the world steadied. Her world, at least. 

“Tomorrow?” Her voice cracked again, softer now.

“Yes.” He nodded, his hands still holding her face. “I promise. We’ll go tomorrow.”

“We’ll make sure he goes! To the Necropolis!” Spite interjected, Lucanis’ voice taking on that eerie edge before fading again.

“Tomorrow,” he repeated, quieter this time. “I promise.”

Tomorrow. Was time passing?

___

Day 4 after losing Rook

They didn’t go the next day.

It wasn’t Lucanis’ fault. It was hers. Most things these days were her fault.

As the haze began to lift, clarity became its own torment. She was inconsolable. Everything-everything-sent her spiraling. A misplaced word, a familiar scent, the sound of her own footsteps echoing in the hallway. She screamed and cried until her throat was raw, until her body gave out and left her sick and shaking. No one knew what to do. Neither did she.

She tried. She would push herself to leave her room, determined to rejoin the others, to help, only to be undone by the smallest of things. The book Nym had been reading left open on the table, a teacup that had been Rook’s last before everything fell apart. Her own reflection in the mirror. Every reminder cracked her open anew, and the sobs would come until she thought they might drown her.

She hadn’t dared face Emmrich. She couldn’t bear it. He was locked away in his library, anyway, probably pouring over tomes in search of Rook, doing what she should have been doing. Or maybe he was avoiding her. Possibly both. Gods, how could she blame him?

Bellara had finally convinced her to remove her armor. It wasn’t an easy task; she’d resisted, clutching at it like a shield against the world. When the magic-infused robes came off, the truth was revealed-there had been blood on her sleeve. Lucanis’. She hadn’t even noticed. It was from the blow he’d taken during their fight with Ghilan’nain, the wound she should have been paying attention to, could have healed if she could make her magic obey her. He still wore a bandage.

Of course, she hadn’t noticed. She was always blind to everyone else’s pain.

Lucanis, for his part, never said a word about it. He simply remained nearby, his presence steady and unfaltering, even when her grief lashed out like a storm. He didn’t touch her again, but he was always there, lingering and encouraging.

 He came to her that evening, knocking softly before stepping inside her room. She sat in front of the small mirror on her desk, staring at her reflection. Her hair was a mess, tangled and unkempt, a perfect mirror of how she felt. She’d been staring at her brush for…a long time.

“May I?” he asked, standing just behind her. His voice was as careful as ever.

She nodded, too tired to argue, and he moved to sit beside her. He worked gently, untangling the knots with the patience of someone who understood that rushing would do more harm than good. His fingers moved with surprising skill, combing and smoothing her hair as if weaving it back into something manageable—something whole.

“You should braid it,” she murmured after a while, her voice soft. 

He tilted his head. “Braid it?”

She nodded. “Like Rook used to do. She always said it made me look pretty, and less… feral.”

A faint smile ghosted across Lucanis’ face, though his eyes held their usual solemnity. “I think you look just fine as you are,” he said quietly. But still, he began to braid, his movements slow and deliberate.

As he worked, the act became something more. A rhythm, a tether. Something small and mundane, yet grounding. By the time he finished, the tightness in her chest had eased, just a fraction, and she could breathe a little easier.

“Thank you,” she said, her voice barely audible.

Lucanis met her eyes in the mirror. “We’ll get through this, Nyx,” he said, his voice steady with conviction. “Together. We’ll find her.”

And for the first time in days, she didn’t feel entirely alone.

…

It didn’t last.

Emmrich had finally come to her.

Nyx sat in the kitchen, though not at the table-she couldn’t bear that. Too many memories lingered there, ghosts seated in every chair. Instead, she perched at the counter, the one Lucanis and Bellara used for cooking. It was unfamiliar to her, untouched by the past. A sanctuary, however small.

When Emmrich entered, she barely recognized him. For as long as she’d known him, Emmrich had always been the picture of composure: pressed robes, meticulously groomed, his every movement precise. Now, his hair was unkempt, his shirt rumpled and wrinkled. The deep shadows beneath his eyes seemed to carry the weight of an entire lifetime of grief. He still held that little chess piece in his hands, a small achor keeping him from completely loosing himself to grief. A reminder of why he couldn’t afford to give up.

“Bishop,” he said softly, his voice strained but gentle. “You look better, dear.”

Nyx wasn’t sure how to respond to that. He didn’t look better. He looked broken.

He approached her cautiously, as though she might shatter if he moved too quickly. When he reached her, he laid a tentative hand on her shoulder. She flinched but didn’t pull away.

“My dear Nyxahlia,” he began, his words slow, deliberate. “Please… as deeply as my heart is wounded by the current flow of events… having lost the love of my life… knowing that the last true discussion I had with my darling Nymphadora… was an argument over my own selfish insecurities and fears…” His voice cracked, but he pressed on. “I would never presume to understand the depth of what you are suffering through in this moment… having lost your sister. I’ve tried to give you the space and time I thought you needed. But now…” His grip on her shoulder tightened, not unkindly, but enough to convey the urgency behind his words. “Nyxahlia, please. You must know. If she is alive… Would your bond not tell you if she was lost to us?”

Her throat tightened, and for a moment, she couldn’t speak. She stared down at the counter, her fingers tracing aimless patterns on the smooth surface. When she finally managed to find her voice, it was thin, fragile.

“I’m sorry, Emmrich,” she whispered, her words heavy with guilt. “I don’t know.”

The silence that followed was deafening.

“You don’t know?” His voice wasn’t accusing, but the disbelief in it cut her nonetheless.

“No,” she said again, her voice trembling. She dared to look up at him, her eyes meeting his. “I can’t feel her. Not the way I should. It’s… empty.”

Emmrich’s face crumpled, and he took a step back as though her words had struck him physically. “Empty,” he repeated, barely more than a breath.

“I’m sorry,” Nyx said again, and this time her voice broke completely.

For a moment, it seemed as though Emmrich might say something more, but he didn’t. Instead, he turned and left the kitchen, his footsteps heavy and uneven. The weight of his grief hung in the air after he was gone, suffocating in its intensity.

A quiet presence filled the room, and she looked up to find Lucanis standing in the doorway. He didn’t say anything, just watched her with that same steady gaze he always seemed to have now.

“You heard,” she said, her voice hollow.

He nodded, stepping closer. “I heard.”

She shook her head, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. “I don’t know why he thinks I can help. I can’t even hold myself together without her.”

Lucanis pulled a chair closer and sat beside her. “No one’s expecting you to have the answers, Nyx.”

“Emmrich is,” she muttered, running a hand through her tangled hair.

Lucanis reached out hesitantly, his fingers brushing hers. “Let me help,” he said softly.

She didn’t argue, too tired to resist. Lucanis moved behind her, his hands deftly working through the knots in her hair. His touch was gentle, and though he said nothing, his presence was steady and grounding.

“You don’t have to do this alone,” he murmured after a while. “None of us do.”

By the time he finished braiding her hair, the tightness in her chest had eased, just a little. She reached up, touching the braid lightly. It wasn’t much, but it was something.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

Lucanis met her gaze, his dark eyes filled with quiet conviction. “We’ll find her. We’ll start tomorrow.” Nyx nodded, though she wasn’t sure if she believed it anymore.

...

Day 6 after losing Rook

The sky outside the lighthouse was dark like it knew the normal ambiance was not appropriate to his mood. Lucanis stared at the balcony from the courtyard below, his jaw tight, his hands clenched at his sides. The stone railing looked no different than it had yesterday as if it weren’t complicit in what had almost happened.

His jaw clenched, and he turned sharply, walking back inside.

The others were scattered, their silence as heavy as the air outside. Bellara stood by the window in the main hall, her usual energetic demeanor dulled by exhaustion. Emmrich was nowhere to be seen, likely still locked away in his library. Lucanis didn’t even think he knew.

Lucanis walked straight to Bellara, his steps decisive.

“I need your help,” he said without preamble.

Bellara turned, raising an eyebrow. “With what?”

“The balcony,” Lucanis said grimly. “We’re making it impossible to climb over.”

Her expression darkened, but she nodded. “Lead the way.”

Together, they climbed the stairs to Nyx’s room. Lucanis paused briefly in the doorway. Nyx was still asleep, curled tightly beneath her blanket, her braid trailing over her pillow. She looked impossibly small, her face pale and drawn even in sleep.

Bellara’s sharp intake of breath told him she’d noticed too. “Let’s be quiet,” she murmured, stepping past him and onto the balcony.

The stormy wind caught her hair as she surveyed the stone railing. “What exactly are we doing here?”

“Make it higher,” Lucanis said. “or stronger. I don’t care how. Just make sure she can’t…” He trailed off, his throat tightening.

Bellara nodded, her usual demeanor softened. She placed her hands on the stone, her fingers glowing with faint blue light as she began to weave her magic. 

Lucanis watched as she added intricate engravings along the surface-not for beauty, but to reinforce the enchantments she was embedded within.

“That should do it,” Bellara said after a while, stepping back to admire her work. “No one’s getting over that without serious effort.”

“It’s good,” Lucanis agreed, testing the new ward with a firm push. It didn’t budge. “Thank you.”

Bellara brushed her hands off, the faint shimmer of magic fading from her fingertips. “You’re going to have to tell her what we did. She’s not going to like it.”

“I know,” Lucanis said, his voice steady. “I’ll deal with it when the time comes.”

They went back inside, leaving the balcony behind. As they descended the stairs, Lucanis hesitated. “One more thing,” he said.

Bellara turned, her expression questioning.

“She needs to feel safe. Not just trapped,” he said. “Is there a way to make it... softer? Warmer, somehow?”

Bellara’s lips twitched in the ghost of a smile. “You mean less like a prison?”

“Yes.”

She nodded thoughtfully. “I can work something in. Light wards, maybe. Subtle, but calming. They’ll feel like a gentle shield rather than a cage.”

“Do it,” Lucanis said.

Bellara gave him a long look, then reached out and clasped his shoulder briefly. “You’re doing the right thing.”

“I hope so,” he muttered.

Hours later, when Nyx finally woke and stumbled out to the balcony, she saw the carvings elegant and protective. A faint shimmer of magic lingered in the air, soft and warm like a comforting hand on her shoulder.

Lucanis didn’t say a word when she glanced at him. He simply waited, braced for whatever reaction would come.

For a moment, Nyx ran her fingers over the carvings, her expression unreadable. Then, with a small, tired nod, she stepped back inside.

She wasn’t back. Not yet. But it was a start.

Time was passing. 

…

Day ?? after losing Rook

The lighthouse was quiet, save for the distant hum of the fade magic. Night had settled in, casting long shadows across the walls. In the dim glow of the single lantern, Lucanis sat on his cot in the pantry, his boots discarded to one side and his head in his hands.

“Knock, knock,” came a soft voice.

He looked up to see Nyx standing in the doorway, her arms crossed but her posture hesitant. She looked better—less hollow, her braid neater, finally back to caring for herself as she used to.

“Can I come in?” she asked.

Lucanis sat up straighter, gesturing to the small space. “Not much of a grand entrance, but it’s yours.”

Nyx smiled faintly and stepped inside, pulling over an overturned crate to sit on. Her gaze flicked to his cot, then back to him. “Still camping out here, huh?”

“It’s fine,” Lucanis said, shrugging. “I’ve had worse.”

She tilted her head. “I know that’s true. But you don’t have to, you know.”

Lucanis raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

Nyx looked down at her hands, picking at her nails. “You’ve been here the whole time. Watching me, helping me, making sure I didn’t…” Her voice caught, and she took a steadying breath. “Making sure I didn’t break. And you’ve barely even rested because of it.”

“Nyx-”

“Let me finish,” she interrupted gently. “I’m not saying I’m fine now. But I’m not where I was. And I’ve been thinking... we’re safe now. You and me.”

Lucanis’s brow furrowed. “Safe?”

“With each other,” she clarified, looking up at him. “Spite and Despair-they’ve… they’ve made peace, haven’t they? What happened between them, all those centuries ago, that’s their pain. Not ours.”

Lucanis leaned back against the wall, his arms crossed. He’d felt it too. The strange, tentative calm between his demon and hers, the way their presence no longer felt like opposing forces locked in an eternal standoff.

“They’ve let go,” he admitted. “And it’s made it easier. To think. To feel without everything twisting.”

Nyx nodded, her gaze searching his face. “Exactly. So maybe… maybe we can let go too.”

He studied her for a long moment. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying…” She hesitated, then forged ahead. “You don’t belong in this pantry, Lucanis. You belong with me. We’ve been keeping each other at arm’s length because of what’s inside us, but that’s over. You can come to my room. You can stay there with me.”

Lucanis blinked, his lips parting in surprise. “Nyx, are you sure? After everything-”

“I’m sure,” she said firmly. “We’ve already spent so much time fighting this. I don’t want to anymore. And if I wake up in the middle of the night, if you do, I want us to be there for each other. Like we should’ve been from the start. You’ve brushed my teeth for me, for gods’ sake. We are supposed to be together.”

His shoulders relaxed slightly, and a small, rare smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “All right,” he said softly. “If you’re sure.”

“I am,” she replied, standing and offering her hand.

Lucanis took it, letting her pull him to his feet. Together, they gathered his few belongings and made their way to her room. She cleared a space near the wall for his cot, but when they finished, they sat side by side on her bed instead, talking quietly until sleep crept in.

…

The next morning, Nyx woke before dawn, the faint light of the rising sun spilling through the curtains. She glanced at Lucanis, still sound asleep on his cot, his breathing even. Her resolve solidified.

She left the room quietly. The lighthouse felt still, almost reverent in the early light as she made her way to the library.

She found Emmrich slumped over a desk, surrounded by stacks of books and half-burned candles. He startled awake when she cleared her throat.

“Bishop?” he asked, blinking blearily. “What are you-”

“I’m ready,” she said, her voice steady.

Emmrich straightened, his expression caught somewhere between relief and disbelief. “You mean-”

“I mean I’m ready to help,” she interrupted. “If there’s no spell to find Nym, then we’ll make one. Whatever it takes, Emmrich. I’ll do it. We’ll do it.”

His eyes filled with unshed tears, and he nodded, standing and placing a trembling hand on her shoulder. “Thank you, Nyx,” he whispered.

She nodded back, her determination unwavering. “We’re bringing her home.”

—-----------

[pixelizedprince]

Fuck it what of I just edited and posted all the self indulgent Emmrich X Bishop fics (that are also Lucanis X Margaux)

Y'all get to enjoy the fact that I wrote them all before game release and have been sitting here gasping like a fish with every correct guess I had

[basic-x-witch]

The Twin’s Gambit

Chapter One : The Open is Cold

The air in the Fade was thick and oppressive, a swirling haze of shadow and light that distorted all sense of time and place. For years-decades, perhaps - Rook had wandered its surreal expanse, her once-burning resolve eroded to a flicker. Shattered memories of a life left behind haunted her steps: fleeting images of friends and family, Nyxahlia and Emmrich, battles, and purpose that felt more like dreams than reality. Now, at the edge of a cracked obsidian plateau, she fell to her knees, the weight of despair pressing her into the unyielding ground. As she stared down at her shaking hands, a ragged sigh escapes her lips. She understood now, what it was like to live like Nyx did, and they would never be able to share the experience. Rook's hands trembled, reaching for a horizon that offered no answers, only more endless void. They had given everything.. strength, cunning, faith- they had done everything Varric had asked, overcome all their regrets, and yet the Fade refused to yield. She allowed the thought to settle for the first time: perhaps there was no escape. Perhaps, she would never see her family again, and as the thought hit the pit of her stomach she rested her head on her knees. This whole mess had been her fault, she had failed, and now she was here to atone.

Time passed.

She didn’t tire, didn’t hunger. The cruelest trick of the Fade. Her mind was tortured by the constant sounds of her loved ones blaming her for everything that happened, while her body refused to meet its end. She wrestled with the intermittent flashes - visions of what she begged were no more than her mind conjuring up falsehoods - the dead bodies of the people closest to her. Her sister Nyxahlia, cold, lifeless…alone. Lucanis, her dear friend, killed at Ghilan'nain's hand. Emmrich, the love of her life, a man she knew had a mortifying fear of death forced to face it and watch her die. Was she dead? It was hard to tell anymore, Solas could have been lying about that too. However, she knew one thing for certain, something that truly boiled her blood. Finding out the truth about Varric… Solas had tricked her, blinded her from seeing the truth of his death. Had she truly been the only one unaware of the death of a man she admired so much…

Time passed so slowly, if at all.

After a stretch of time that seemed never ending, while she had been pacing in the Fade, the barrage of voices had been finally silenced. It was just her and the faint hum of the void now. Her trembling fingers rake through her hair as she takes in the foreign sense of solitary. She looks out into the gloomy grey haze of the infinite horizon, when suddenly she heard one singular voice calling out to her, the sound was so familiar that it almost hurt to listen to. Against her better judgment, she followed the voice, until it led her to what appeared to be the ruins of the ritual sight where this had all started. The memory of that day came flooding back to her as she saw once again what appeared to be Varric’s lifeless body.

“You can’t be dead, Varric. You’ve helped us so much. Helped me so much…Told me what to do, when I didn’t know. We wouldn’t have gotten this far without you,” her voice was solemn as she spoke, her words laced with regret.

“But you did, Rook. You did all of this without me.” It hurt to hear his voice again, but Rook listened.

“Because…you died..”

“Yeah. Sorry about that, kid.” The two of them stand there together in silence for a moment while Nym collects her thoughts.

“No, I’m sorry Varric.”

“For what?” he replied, sounding almost baffled by her audacity to apologize.

“For not saving you…it’s my fault. I wasn’t good enough… I should hav-”

“Shit. Didn’t you learn anything from this place?” he said as he moved to stand in front of her cutting her off mid sentance. “I made the choice. To talk to him. To try to reach him. Even knowing the risks. Because he was my friend. My decision. My sacrifice. And you don’t get to take that from me. Besides kid, think for a second about how you got here in the first place. Sacrifice, in the name of someone you care about.”

“But–” she tries in vain to interject.

“Every story’s got an ending. This one just came a little earlier than I’d planned.”

“I’m going to miss you, Varric,” she said, struggling through haphazard tears.

“Going to miss you too, kid. But you’ve got your own story to finish.” Varric places a comforting hand on her back and gently pushes her towards the stone staircase leading to where Solas stood during the ritual. “I just know the ending’s going to be killer.”

“What happens now? To you?”

“I’ll disappear, go back to just being a memory.” The two of them begin the slow ascent up the stairs.

“Right…”

“Hey, don’t get all misty-eyed on me, okay? I had a good run. And I don’t regret a second of it.”

“What about Solas?”

“You and your sister talked to Mythal. You saw the memories. Solas wants to be a hero, That’s who he is, deep down. But it’s easier for him to play the villain. Because that means he didn’t fail. All the damage he’s done, the people he’s hurt–it becomes a choice.” Varric suddenly stops, watching as Rook continues to walk up the steps. “Remind him who he really is, or better yet get that sister of yours to do it. She’s always been better with words than you were kid. Hell, he just might listen.” He lets out a deep but soft laugh.

Rook smiles at the mention of her sister. “So how do I get out of here? Or a better question can I get out of here?”

“Of course you can, just listen to your team. Like you always do.”

“Here, Emmrich, she’s here, I know it. We should try the spell here.” A voice broke the stillness, soft but insistent, piercing through the void. It was familiar, achingly so. Nyx. Her sister. Could it truly be Nyx?

“They’re waiting for you,” Varric says with a gruff smile. “Just take it one step at a time.”

“Goodbye, Varric, and thank you. For everything..”

“Mi Vida, are you sure about this?” Another voice followed. Lucanis. “No one’s ever attempted this before.”

“I’ll be fine, Lucanis,” Nyx replied with unwavering determination. “Emmrich is here. We’ll do it together.”

Then came the voice that shattered her numbness entirely. The voice she had longed for through countless silent nights. “Rook!”

Emmrich.

Her head lifted, trembling as if under the weight of an eternity of despair, and for the first time in years, her heart dared to hope.

“Looking forward to seeing how it turns out. I’d say good luck, but…you don’t need it. You already have everything you need.” Varric’s voice was heavy as he slowly faded away from her vision.

A brilliant white light flared before her, searing through the dim haze of the Fade. Emmrich's voice rang out, steady and commanding, his chant resonating like a lifeline through the emptiness.

“Rook! You need to get ready to step through. Bishop can’t hold it for long.”

A hand pierced through the light - then another - gripping the edges of the radiance as if tearing open the fabric of reality itself. Slowly, the light stretched wider, widening into a portal just large enough for a person to pass through. A sharp cry of pain reached her ears. Nyx. She winced, her heart clenching. Was this real? A trick? Another cruel illusion of the Fade, preying on her final scraps of hope?

And then an arm emerged, strong and familiar. She knew that arm, its scars, and sinews etched into her memory. Her breath hitched. She reached for it, her trembling fingers desperate as if it were the last tether keeping her from slipping into oblivion. It wasn’t just any lifeline—it was the lifeline.

“HEAVE!” Taash’s strong voice could be heard booming through the void.

The pull was sudden and all-encompassing. Her body felt like it was being unraveled and pieced back together, each moment an eternity of disorientation. Then, her feet hit something solid. She stumbled, gasping as her knees sank into the soft, damp earth.

Grass.

Her fingers clenched around the blades, vibrant and green, so vivid it almost hurt to see. For the first time in what must have been years, she felt the world beneath her, alive and real.

Emmrich dropped to his knees before her, wrapping her in an embrace so fierce it stole her breath, grounding her in a reality she had long thought lost.

“Emmrich..” her voice barley audible. “Is this…are you..”

“Yes dearest, the nightmare is over. You are home, I’ve got you…” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. Tears welled in her eyes as she leaned back, desperate to truly see him after so long. His hands cradled her face, calloused and warm, steadying her as if afraid she might vanish again.

He looked so familiar—so achingly familiar. There were changes, the increased peppering of gray in his hair, the heavier lines carved into his features, a weariness in his hazel green eyes that hadn’t been there before. But it was still Emmrich. Maybe, just maybe, she hadn’t been gone as long as she feared. Maybe the world she’d left behind would still feel like home.

That fragile hope crumbled the moment her gaze shifted past his shoulder.

Standing just behind him was someone she recognized only because of her distinctive coloring: stark white hair and luminous silver eyes. Her sister.

Nyxalia “Bishop” Ingellvar wasn’t the person she remembered.

Her hair, once flowing down her back, was short and pinned back in tight braids that formed a crown around her head. Gone were her Mourn Watch robes, replaced by dark Antivan Crow armor, its deep purples, and blacks tailored to move with deadly precision. There was no staff in sight, only a spellblade sheathed at her belt, its edge glinting ominously.

Her face… gods, her face. Thin to the point of gauntness, her cheeks hollow and framed by bruised shadows beneath her eyes. A scar she didn’t recognize, long healed but impossible to miss, cut a cruel path from her ear to her chin, narrowly avoiding her throat.

Nyx looked as though a strong wind might knock her over. But the man behind her kept her steady. Lucanis. His hand rested possessively on her hip, just above the spellblade, his posture calm and confident. He anchored her, in a way that spoke volumes of the battles they’d fought together - and the time they’d survived without her.

Oh, gods.

Rook’s heart clenched. She hadn’t just missed time; she had missed years. Entire lives had been lived while she wandered lost in the Fade. Her return wasn’t a reunion—it was an intrusion into a world that had moved on without her.

Time had passed. And it had not been kind.

—---------

[basic-x-witch]

The Twin's Gambit

Chapter Three: Determination Becomes Her

Day ??? after losing Rook

The library was dim, lit only by a single lamp on the desk where Emmrich sat hunched over a sprawling mess of notes, books, and scribbled calculations. His hair, normally neatly combed, was disheveled, and his shirt was wrinkled, his vest having been abandoned. The faint tremor in his hand as he turned a page was hard to miss.

Lucanis leaned in the doorway, his arms crossed as he watched Emmrich pour over his work. He sighed and stepped inside, the sound of his boots against the floor catching Emmrich’s attention.

“If you keep this up, you’ll work yourself into the grave,” Lucanis said flatly.

Emmrich didn’t look up. “Lucanis, unless you have some breakthrough to contribute, I kindly request that you leave me to my research.”

Lucanis didn’t move. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Emmrich finally glanced at him, irritation flashing in his tired eyes. “What do you want?”

“To talk,” Lucanis replied, stepping closer and leaning against the edge of the desk. He looked down at the scattered pages. “You’ve been at this for days without rest. You’ve barely eaten. You’re not going to save her like this.”

Emmrich slammed a book shut, the sound echoing in the quiet room. “Lucanis, please. I have no time for your pointless lectures. I don’t know if you have noticed, but it would seem that my dearest Rook has been trapped! Sealed away into the deepest reaches of the Fade, and I, the supposed expert in the field, can hardly discern a single trace of her. WHAT GOOD AM I TO THIS TEAM IF I CANNOT EVEN SAVE THE WOMAN I LOVE?!”

Lucanis didn’t flinch at the outburst, meeting Emmrich’s fiery gaze with calm resolve. “You’re a hell of a lot of good, Emmrich. But you’re not going to be any good to anyone if you kill yourself trying to save her. Do you think Rook would want this? To come back and find you like this?”

Emmrich’s expression faltered, the anger draining from his face and leaving only exhaustion. He slumped back into his chair, rubbing his temples.

“I can’t lose her, Lucanis,” he whispered.

Lucanis perched on the desk beside him, his voice soft but firm. “I know. And you won’t. But you’re not going to save her by running yourself into the ground. You’re important to this team, Emmrich. You’re important to Nyx. To my girl. She looks up to you, whether you see it or not.”

Emmrich let out a shaky breath, his eyes glistening.

“And you’re important to Rook,” Lucanis continued. “She’d be devastated to come back and find you gone. You think you’re failing her, but if you don’t take care of yourself, that’s the real failure.”

Silence stretched between them for a moment before Emmrich nodded slowly. “You’re right,�� he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I don’t know how to stop, Lucanis. Every moment feels wasted if I’m not trying.”

Lucanis placed a hand on his shoulder. “Start small. Sleep for a few hours. Eat something that isn’t stale bread. Let Bellara or Bishop take over some of this for a bit. We’re a team, Emmrich. You don’t have to do this alone.”

Emmrich closed his eyes, his shoulders sagging as he finally allowed himself to lean back in his chair. As he took a deep breath, he reopened his eyes, his gaze landing on the little black  chess piece. An unwavering piller placed neatly next to the ink pot on his desk. “I’ll try,” he said, and though his voice was weary, there was a hint of sincerity.

Lucanis nodded, standing and pulling him to his feet. “Good. Now come on. There’s soup. You’re eating, even if I have to spoon-feed you myself. Don’t think I won't, I’ve gotten very good at it.”

Emmrich managed a weak laugh, shaking his head. “Nym was right, you truly are insufferable.”

“Part of my charm,” Lucanis said with a smirk, guiding him out of the library and toward the kitchen.

__

In the other room, Bellara hesitantly lifted the scissors.

“Bishop…are you sure?”

Nyx sat on the stool, her white hair falling in loose waves down her back. Her fingers toyed with a stray strand, her silver eyes fixed on the fireplace rather than the mirror in front of her. “I’m sure,” she said softly. “It’s just hair, Bel. I need to stop pretending I didn’t wreck it.”

Bellara frowned, her fingers tightening around the scissors. “It’s not just hair. It’s you. You’ve always had it long-t’s like…” She hesitated, searching for the right words. “It’s like cutting off a part of who you are.”

Nyx laughed, a hollow sound that didn’t reach her eyes. “Exactly.”

Bellara’s chest tightened at the note of pain in her voice. She placed the scissors on the counter and stepped around the stool to kneel in front of her. “Nyx…cutting your hair isn’t going to take away everything that’s happened. It won’t make you feel less...trapped.”

Nyx met her gaze, her lips pressing into a thin line. “I don’t want to feel like her anymore. Like the Bishop who couldn’t save her sister. The Bishop who let despair get the better of her. I want to feel...different. New.”

Bellara studied her for a moment, then sighed, standing and picking up the scissors again. “Alright. But if we’re doing this, we’re doing it right. None of that reckless chopping you tried to do before.”

Nyx smirked faintly, her first genuine expression in days. “No promises.”

Bellara moved behind her, gathering the thick strands of hair in her hands. The weight of it was surprising—like the weight of everything Nyx had been carrying. “How short are we going?”

“Short,” Nyx replied. “But, it needs to be long enough to braid the front.”

Bellara tilted her head, imagining the cut. “Maybe just to the top of your shoulders? That’ll get rid of the worst of it.?”

“Whatever you think works,” Nyx murmured.

The scissors snipped, the sound crisp in the quiet room. Strands of white hair fell to the floor, curling like fallen snow. Nyx flinched slightly at the first cut but didn’t stop her.

They fell into a companionable silence, Bellara focusing on shaping the hair just right. As the last locks fell, she stepped back and inspected her work. “Alright, Bishop. All done.”

Nyx turned to the mirror, her breath catching. For the first time in weeks, she didn’t see the woman who had fallen apart. She saw someone...ready.

Bellara brushed off stray hairs from her shoulders. “It suits you.”

Nyx reached up, touching the uneven ends. “It feels...lighter.”

Bellara smiled, though her eyes were filled with quiet understanding. “Sometimes, that’s all you need to take the first step.”

Nyx met her gaze in the mirror, gratitude shining through. “Thanks, Bel. For everything.”

Bellara squeezed her shoulder. “Anytime, Bishop. You’re not doing this alone. Remember that.”

Nyx nodded, standing and brushing herself off. As she stepped out of the room, Bellara glanced at the pile of white strands on the floor and whispered, “Neither are you.”

___

The room was dim, the faint glow of the never-changing sky spilling through the cracks in the heavy curtains. Lucanis shifted under the blanket, grumbling softly against the back of Nyx’s neck.

“If you had told me your feet were this cold, I would’ve stayed in the pantry,” he whispered, his breath warm against her skin.

“It’s penance for your greatest sin,” Nyx murmured, her lips curling into a faint smile. “Making me switch sides of the bed.”

Lucanis snorted, his fingers trailing lightly along her cheek until they brushed the bandage covering a fresh cut. His voice softened. “You know, Spite says if you’re going to keep tempting death just to feel alive again, you’re going to need to get better with that spellblade.”

“Oh, Spite says that, does he?” Nyx asked, raising an eyebrow though she didn’t turn to face him.

“Of course,” Lucanis replied, his tone teasing. “I would never dare to insult your skill myself.”

Nyx smirked, tilting her head slightly to glance at him. “I guess I’ll need to find a really good teacher then. You happen to know any?”

Lucanis chuckled, his hand slipping to her waist, steady, like it always was now. “I may know someone.”

The humor lingered in the air for a moment before fading, replaced by a quiet stillness. Lucanis’s fingers idly played with the ends of her freshly cut hair, his touch reverent.

“You know,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, “this suits you. The hair, I mean. You look...fierce. Strong.” He hesitated, then added, “Not that you didn’t before.”

Nyx’s heart tightened at the sincerity in his voice, and she reached up to touch her hair self-consciously. “It’s just hair.”

“It’s more than that,” Lucanis said, his thumb brushing against her collarbone. “It’s you.”

Nyx turned slightly, meeting his gaze. His expression was unguarded, and the weight of his words settled between them.

“You’re important to me, Nyx,” he said, his voice sure but quiet. “I don’t just mean just as our leader or my friend. You’ve been important to me since the day we met, even when you were barking orders and driving me mad with your stubbornness.” He swallowed hard, his fingers tightening slightly on her waist. “I...I love you. Not Spite, not because of some shared past, but me. Just me.”

Nyx blinked, the breath catching in her throat. For a moment, she was silent, her silver eyes searching his face. Then, she reached up, her hand resting lightly against his cheek.

“Lucanis,” she whispered, her voice softer than he’d ever heard it. “You’re a fool.”

His heart sank for a fraction of a second before she leaned forward, brushing her lips against his in a kiss that was gentle and hesitant but filled with more certainty than her words ever could convey.

When they pulled apart, her lips curved into a faint smirk. “But you’re my fool. And...I love you too.”

Lucanis let out a breathless laugh, his forehead resting against hers. “Well, that’s a relief. I’d hate to think I was confessing to someone who didn’t feel the same, as we laid in our shared bed.”

Nyx rolled her eyes, her hand still on his cheek. “You’re insufferable.”

“And you wouldn’t have it any other way,” he teased, pulling her closer.

No, she wouldn’t. Time would pass.

____

Week ?? after losing Rook

The library was quiet, save for the soft scratching of quills against parchment and the occasional rustle of pages. Stacks of books, scrolls, and loose papers surrounded Emmrich and Nyx, their small fortress of research spanning both his desk, and the mortuary slab. The air smelled of ink, dust, and candle wax.

Emmrich leaned over a thick tome, his brow furrowed in concentration as his quill raced across a sheet of notes. Beside him, Nyx tapped her fingers against the spine of a book, her silver eyes scanning a particularly dense section of text as she paced around the room.

“So,” Nyx began, breaking the silence, “if we’re going to make a spell that can trace someone in the Fade, it’s going to need to do two things.” She held up two fingers. “First, we need to figure out how to pinpoint Rook’s essence in all that chaos.”

Emmrich nodded without looking up. “Her essence would act as a beacon. Given your bond as twins, you might be the anchor we need.”

Nyx arched a brow. “Anchor, huh? That sounds...safe.”

Emmrich sighed, setting his quill down and rubbing his temples. “It’s not safe, but it’s logical. Your connection to her, your shared essence, might be strong enough to pierce the veil. It’s the best lead we have.”

Nyx tilted her head, her expression softening. “Alright. And the second thing?”

Emmrich’s hand hovered over a pile of diagrams, pulling one free. It was a rough sketch of a swirling portal, annotated with notes in his cramped handwriting. “We need a way to stabilize the opening. Even if we locate her, the Fade’s shifting nature will resist any attempt to bring her back. The spell will need to create a tether strong enough to hold the portal open while we extract her.”

Nyx studied the diagram, her eyes narrowing. “What about the anchor? Couldn’t it also stabilize the portal?”

Emmrich paused, considering her question. “In theory, yes. But using you as both the anchor and the stabilizing force increases the risk exponentially. If anything goes wrong-”

“-I’ll be lost too,” Nyx finished, her voice calm but firm. “I get it, Emmrich. But we don’t have a lot of options here, do we?”

He looked at her, his tired eyes meeting her determined gaze. For a moment, neither spoke. Then Emmrich sighed, leaning back in his chair.

“You’re just as stubborn as she is,” he muttered, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

Nyx smirked. “Runs in the family.”

Their banter was interrupted by Manfred, holding a familiar tray with a teapot and two cups. The skeleton hissed happily to get their attention. He held up the tray. “Tea.”

“Ahh thank you Manfred..” Emmrich said trying to compose himself, as though he was trying to hide his sadness and uneasiness from his skeleton ward. Manfred walked over and set the tray down on one of the tables that wasn’t covered in their discarded attempts at a solution.

“Rook? Where?” The skeleton asked with a sad hiss. Emmrich’s eyes grew gloomy once again at the sound of Manfred’s question. He had been so engulfed by his own grief he hadn’t even considered that his ward even knew what had transpired. But of course, he would, he was a spirit of curiosity after all.

“We seem to have misplaced her, Manfred. Do not worry though. We're retracing our steps to find her now.” Nyx stepped in to reassure her skeletal friend, and to spare Emmrich, who seemed lost for words. .

“Find. Rook” Manfred hissed, as he walked closer to the pair of necromancers. “Help?” 

She reached for another book, flipping it open to a section on Fade interactions. “What about containment runes? If we inscribe them around the portal site, could they help stabilize the spell? What do you think, Manfred?”

“B-Bishop. Good.” He cheered with a happy hiss.

Emmrich straightened, interest sparking in his eyes. “That might actually work. The runes could act as a buffer, reducing the strain on the anchor.” He pulled another sheet of parchment toward him, sketching a circular array of symbols.

Nyx watched him for a moment before asking, “What about the emotional aspect? You said the Fade reacts to thoughts and feelings. What if...I don’t know, what if my emotions overwhelm the spell?”

Emmrich’s quill paused mid-stroke. He glanced up at her, his expression thoughtful. “That’s a valid concern. Your emotions could amplify the spell—or disrupt it entirely. You’d need to keep yourself grounded.”

Nyx snorted, leaning back in her chair. “Grounded. Right. Because I’ve been the picture of emotional stability lately.”

Emmrich’s smile was faint but genuine. “You’re stronger than you think, Nyx. You’ve proven that already.”

She rolled her eyes but didn’t argue. Instead, she focused on the book in front of her, scanning its pages for anything that might be useful.

Hours passed, the two of them working in tandem with the occasional help and moral support from Manfred. Emmrich’s logical mind complemented Nyx’s practicality, their ideas blending into a plan that, while imperfect, was beginning to take shape.

Finally, as the first rays of dawn crept through the library windows, Nyx set down her quill and stretched.

“I think we’re getting somewhere,” she said, glancing at Emmrich.

He looked exhausted, his hair disheveled and his eyes bloodshot, but there was a flicker of hope in his expression. “We are. It’s not perfect, but it’s a start.”

____

Week ??? after losing Rook

The library was dimly lit, the candlelight casting flickering shadows across the walls. Emmrich stood at the head of the table, a heavy book open in front of him. The pages detailed intricate runes and formulas, sketched in ink so dark it seemed to gleam. Nyx sat across from him, her arms crossed and her jaw set, her silver eyes locked on the text.

Lucanis leaned against the doorframe, his arms folded, watching them with a wary gaze.

“This is madness,” Lucanis said, breaking the heavy silence.

Emmrich didn’t look up from the book. “Madness would be doing nothing. This is our best chance.”

“With blood magic?” Lucanis’s voice was sharp, and Spite flickered in his tone. “Have you completely lost your mind, Emmrich? Do you know what happens when you draw from blood willingly given? The Fade answers louder and crueler.”

Nyx exhaled slowly, glancing between the two men. “It’s not like I’m suggesting we sacrifice someone. It’s my blood. My bond with Rook is the strongest connection we have. Plus, I’m already possessed by a demon. If it means we find her faster, why not use it?”

Lucanis pushed off the doorframe, striding into the room. “Why not? How about because it’s a slippery slope, Nyxahlia? Do you think it’ll stop at a drop of blood? Blood magic doesn’t work like that. Once it takes, it keeps taking.”

Emmrich finally looked up, his expression calm but resolute. “It wouldn’t require much. A controlled amount, just enough to strengthen the tether between Rook and Bishop. With the proper protections in place-”

“Protections,” Lucanis cut him off, his voice icy. “You’re gambling with her soul, Emmrich. Protections are worth nothing when the Fade decides it wants more. Spite and I both know that. Despair knows that. You two are the only ones who don’t.”

Nyx stood, her chair scraping against the stone floor. “I’m not a child, Lucanis. I know the risks.”

“No,” Lucanis said firmly, turning to face her. “You think you know the risks because you were infested with a whisper of a demon before you were old enough to know. I’ve lived through them. I’ve seen blood magic unravel people who thought they could control it. Even the strongest minds can break.”

Nyx stepped closer, her gaze hard. “I’m willing to take that chance if it means saving my sister.”

“And I’m not willing to lose you to the same thing that took her and that took Illario,” Lucanis snapped, his voice lowering as he crossed the room to grasp her face. “I can’t. I won’t.”

The weight of his words hung between them, silencing the room. Nyx faltered, her resolve wavering under the raw emotion in his eyes.

Emmrich cleared his throat, his voice soft but insistent. “Lucanis, I understand your concerns, but we’re running out of options. If this works-”

“If it works,” Lucanis shot back. He turned to Emmrich, his expression fierce. “We’ve been over this. The Fade thrives on desperation, on pain. Blood magic invites chaos, no matter how careful you are. And you’re asking her to take that risk?”

Nyx’s voice softened, though her frustration remained. “Lucanis, she’s my sister. I have to do everything I can to bring her back.”

Lucanis shook his head, stepping closer to her. “I get that. Maker knows I do. But there has to be another way. Do you think Nym would want this? Would she want you to risk yourself like this, after everything she did to save you? And you, Emmrich, you call me your friend but you want to risk putting me through what you're suffering right now?”

Nyx hesitated, his words cutting through her determination.

Emmrich sighed pushing down his frustration, closing the book with a thud. “Perhaps we should revisit other avenues. There may be something we overlooked.”

Lucanis nodded sharply, his voice steady. “There is another way. There always is. We’re not turning to blood magic.”

Nyx glanced at the closed book, then back at Lucanis. His eyes softened, and he reached out, his hand brushing against hers.

“You’re not alone in this, Bishop,” he said quietly. “We’ll find her together. Without losing anyone else.”

For a moment, the room was silent again, the tension slowly easing. Nyx exhaled, her shoulders relaxing as she gave a small nod.

“Alright,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “No blood magic.”

Lucanis gave her hand a reassuring squeeze before letting go. Emmrich nodded, though his expression remained tense.

“Let’s keep working,” Emmrich said, reopening a different book. “We’ll find another way.”

Nyx sat back down, the fire in her eyes dimmed but was not extinguished. Lucanis returned to his place by the door, watching her with quiet relief. The road ahead was uncertain, but for now, they had avoided a step too far.

—---------

[basic-x-witch]

Just a quick announcement regarding me and @pocketcrows fic: The Twins Gambit.

I will be releasing chapter three on Friday as per usual, but I wanted to let the cat out of the bag a bit early. I will also be posting a standalone fic in honor of it being Valentine’s Day!

We have been toying with the idea of making a Modern AU version of Nym and Nyx for a while and the fic I’ll be posting will be taking place in that AU.

That’s all I’ll say about it for now. 🤭🤫

[basic-x-witch]

The Twin's Gambit

Chapter Four: Can We Return to Normalcy?

The fire crackled in the hearth, filling the silence that hung awkwardly over the room. Almost everyone was here, each doing their best to seem casual while casting glances toward Rook, now that they had finally gotten her back. Davrin and Assan stood near the fireplace, standing quietly, though their attention flicked toward her often. Bellara’s chattering filled the room, her voice animated, though there was a strained undertone to her words.

Emmrich sat in his chair, hands folded in his lap, his piercing gaze fixed on Nym like he was afraid she might disappear again if he looked away.

And across from her, Nyx. Her twin. Familiar and yet not. The white-haired mage sat with her hands resting on her lap, the fingers of one hand tapping against the bandaged, charred skin of the other, wounds that told the story of how she had torn the veil asunder to save her. Those fingers trembled slightly with each tap.

Nyx's silver eyes flickered between Nym’s face and the kitchen where Lucanis moved with practiced ease. He was cooking, stirring something on the stove, but every so often, he passed behind Nyx’s chair. Each time, he reached out to her, trailing his fingers across her shoulder or tucking her hair behind her ear. The ease between them was startling, their walls lowered in a way Nym had never seen before.

It was comforting but strange, and Nym’s curiosity itched. What had happened during her absence to bring them this close?

Lucanis went to enter the pantry again, and before he could, Nym stood abruptly. She needed an excuse to get everyone to stop staring at her, and this seemed as good as any.

“I’ll get it,” she said quickly.

Lucanis paused, raising an eyebrow at her, then nodded and stepped aside. She walked to the pantry, aware of everyone’s eyes on her as she moved. She grabbed what Lucanis had been going for and turned back to see him leaning casually against the door frame, watching her.

“You don’t have to, you know,” Lucanis said as she handed him the jar.

“Don’t have to what?”

“Feel like you have to be the one holding everything together now. Take a breath, Rook. We’ve got this.”

She frowned, glancing at the others. “You’ve all been holding down the battle without me. I should be doing more.”

Lucanis smirked, “You think we haven’t been leaning on each other? Everyone’s pulling their weight. The Veil Jumpers are keeping the magic stable, the Wardens are holding the lines, the Mourn Watch is managing the demon, and the Crows…” He glanced at Nyx with a hint of amusement. “Well, the Crows are doing what they do best.”

Nym let out a small laugh. “Assassinating the right people at the right time?”

“Something like that,” Lucanis replied.

She tilted her head, studying him. “You seem…settled. Happier, maybe.”

He shrugged, a rare softness in his expression. “We’ve all had to find our place in this. Nyx and I…we’ve figured it out.”

Nym glanced back at her sister, who was still sitting but now watching the two of them with quiet interest. “She’s different. You’re different.”

Lucanis’s voice lowered a note of humor in it. “She made me move out of the pantry.”

Nym blinked, surprised. “Really?”

“She insisted,” he said with mock gravity. “Apparently, I’m better off sharing her room than sleeping next to the dry goods, even if there are no good choke points. I think she likes having me around.”

“Only think?” Bishop called from her seat, clearly having overheard.

“I’m not one to make assumptions, my dear.” Lucanis quipped back, grinning.

Nym smiled faintly, feeling a flicker of warmth she hadn’t expected. For all the chaos, for all the things that had changed, something was grounding about the relationships that had grown stronger in her absence.

“Don’t let him fool you,” Nyx added, standing now and walking toward them. “He’s an excellent pillow, and is surprisingly tolerating of my cold toes.”

The room rippled with quiet laughter, and for a moment, the tension eased.

As Nyx stood beside her, she caught Nym’s eye, her expression softening. “We’ll find our way forward. Together.”

Nym nodded, glancing at Emmrich, who gave her a small, reassuring smile. For the first time since her return, the weight on her chest didn’t feel so unbearable. The world hadn’t fallen. It wasn’t too late. They could still do this. 

____

“Nyx… what happened to your face?”

Rook’s voice stopped Bishop in her tracks as she made her way towards the door. The others had drifted away, leaving the two of them in a rare moment of privacy. Rook’s hand lifted instinctively, as if to touch the scar, but faltered when Bishop’s face crumpled with devastation. Bishop raised her own hand, covering the scar as if to shield it from view.

At the sight of Rook’s expression, torn between shock and sorrow, Bishop managed a fragile, half-hearted smile.

“While Spite and I were looking for you in the Fade, trying to find a way in… we were attacked by demons.” Bishop’s voice was low, her words heavy. “I…I was already using a spellblade, and I wasn’t ready—wasn’t trained enough to handle serious fights with it yet. But it made me feel… powerful. Alive. So, I thought…” She trailed off, her voice trembling.

“Spite was holding off most of them, but a Rage demon flanked us. I didn’t see it coming. It split my face wide open—nearly cut my throat. Spite wanted to pull me back, but I refused. And you know how time works in the Fade. By the time we got out, it had already healed… like this.” She gestured faintly at her scarred face, her tone brittle. “So, this is me now.”

Her words hung in the air, raw and vulnerable.

“You’re still beautiful, love. It doesn’t diminish you,” Lucanis said gently, his voice cutting through the silence as he appeared in the doorway. He had doubled back, drawn by the tremor in Bishop’s voice.

“He’s right,” Rook added, her voice softer now, though a tempest churned beneath her calm exterior. Anger and sadness warred within her. For nearly 28 years, she had shielded her sister from harm, taking every new scar meant for her. And now, this.

“You have to say that,” Bishop said with a quivering smile. “You both love me.”

Before either could respond, Bishop turned and left with Lucanis on her heels, leaving Rook to wrestle with her emotions alone.

____

After the relatively awkward meal shared between the remaining members of the team, everyone parted ways and went to their respective corners of the lighthouse. Rook decided to wander around the courtyard of the lighthouse to clear her head. She had questions and there were only two people she could think of who would not only answer her but wouldn’t sugarcoat it.

Davrin and Taash.

And frankly, she didn’t feel like walking all the way over to Taash’s room right now. 

Nym found Davrin in his room, staring into the fire again. He turned as she approached, his sharp eyes softening at her hesitant expression. She wasted no time.

“Give it to me straight, no one else will,” she said, crossing her arms as though bracing herself. “How long was I gone?”

Davrin’s brows furrowed slightly. “About a month.”

“Only a month?” Nym’s voice rose in surprise as though she didn’t believe him, her eyes widening as her thoughts raced. “I thought…from the way Nyx has changed…I thought it had been years.”

Davrin sighed, leaning back in his chair “No. She just…went through a lot, very quickly. A lot of change. And…it felt longer for her. She and Spite spent some time in the Fade, looking for you. Time doesn’t pass the same way there.”

Nym’s shoulders sagged, relief and guilt warring within her. “Tell me about it.” she laughed dryly. “A month. Just a month. It doesn’t make sense. She’s so…different.”

“She had to be.” Davrin’s voice was quiet but firm. “Bishop carried the weight of losing you, Rook. And she didn’t handle it well at first. None of us did, but she…” He paused, searching for the right words. “She lost herself for a while. But she clawed her way back. Literally, in some cases.”

Nym felt the air leave her lungs, thinking of her sister’s bandaged hands. “She tore through the Veil for me, didn’t she?”

Davrin nodded. “She did. And paid the price for it. Lucanis and Emmrich kept her grounded as much as they could, but…she’s stubborn. She wouldn’t let anyone stop her, even when it was killing her.”

Nym swallowed hard, her gaze dropping to the ground. “That idiot! I didn’t ask for this. I didn’t ask for her to risk everything for me.” Nym says as she held her head in her hands.

“She knows that.” Davrin stepped closer, his voice softening. “But you’re her sister, Rook. She wasn’t going to stop. Not until she had you back.”

Nym’s heart ached, a heavy blend of gratitude and guilt. She looked up at Davrin, her voice barely a whisper. “And what about the others? What happened while I was gone?”

Davrin gave her a faint smile, though his eyes remained serious. “A lot. Everyone has been doing their best to keep the world together. A lot of the elluvians are dark. Minrathos would’ve already been lost if it wasn’t for Solas and the Shadow Dragons. We haven’t found any evidence of Harding, or Neve.”

“And Lucanis?” Nym asked, the question coming unbidden.

Davrin raised an eyebrow at her. “Lucanis never left her side. He carried Bishop through some dark places, literally and figuratively. And she did the same for him.” He paused, his tone softening. “They’re different now, too. Stronger. Closer. They had to be, to survive what they’ve been through.”

Nym nodded slowly, digesting his words. “I should talk to her. To both of them.”

“You should,” Davrin agreed. “But give yourself time, too. It’s been a lot for all of us. You’re not responsible for fixing everything.”

She laughed bitterly. “Aren’t I? They wouldn’t have gone through any of this if it weren’t for me.”

“Stop,” Davrin said firmly, cutting her off. “You didn’t choose this, Rook. And neither did they. But they made it through. And they’re here for you now. Let them be.”

Nym took a shaky breath, nodding. “You’re right. I just…I need to figure out how to start.”

Davrin placed a hand on her shoulder, steadying her. “One step at a time. And remember, you’re not alone anymore.”

She offered him a small, grateful smile. “Thanks, Davrin. For everything.”

“Anytime,” he said with a faint grin. “Now, go find that old necromancer of yours. He’s been waiting for you longer than you know.”

Nym let out a small laugh at Davin’s quip. She then turned and headed back into the lighthouse, her heart heavier with understanding but lighter with hope. Time. She still had time.

[basic-x-witch]

The Twin’s Gambit

Chapter Five: The Crow and His Chess Piece

Warning: this chapter contains smut.

Lucanis entered their room quietly after cleaning up from dinner, the soft creak of the door barely audible as Nyx adjusted the bandage on her hand. She tugged the last strip into place and tested her mobility, her fingers curling and extending slowly. It was already improving, but the sharp pull of pain reminded her just how much her actions had cost.

“I thought I was going to have to watch you fall into the Fade.” Lucanis’s voice was low, roughened by the strain of his emotions. He crossed the distance between the door and her chair in a few swift steps and knelt before her, his gaze locked onto hers, eyes soft.

“I was a little worried about it myself, to be honest.” Nyx tried for levity, but her voice wavered. “It made me pay the price, though.”

Lucanis reached out and gently took her injured arm, his hands steady as he lifted it to plant a soft kiss just above the bandage where her skin was still unmarred.

“At least it’s your weaker hand,” he murmured, the weight of his sigh betraying the tension he carried.

Nyx raised her uninjured hand and cradled his face, her thumb brushing lightly along his cheekbone. “I thought I was going to lose you,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

“You’re not that lucky, love.” She tried to smile, but it faltered under the intensity of his gaze.

Lucanis growled softly, a sound that sent a shiver through her, and she couldn’t tell if it was his voice or Spite’s. It didn’t matter. The sound held a possessive edge, one that matched the fire in his eyes.

“You belong to me,” he said, his tone low and commanding. “Your spirit and mine belonged to each other long before we entered this world, and so you will belong to me long after we both leave it.”

Nyx felt her breath hitch. The words weren’t just a declaration. They were a vow.

“Lucanis,” she began, her voice trembling with an unspoken emotion, “I-”

He pressed his forehead to hers, cutting off her words. He softly told her, “You don’t have to say it. I always know.” Lucanis pulled back just enough to hold her gaze, his eyes flickering with something deeper, devotion and determination mingled into an intensity that stole Nyx’s breath. Then, without warning, he rose, sweeping books and papers and bandages off the desk in one fluid motion. The clatter startled her, but before she could ask what he was doing, he turned to her with purpose etched into every line of his face.

“What-” she began, but the words faltered as he bent down and scooped her up from the chair.

“Sit here,” he instructed, his voice gentle yet firm as he placed her on the edge of the now-cleared desk, placing them at eye level with each other.

The cool surface pressed against the back of her legs, grounding her for a moment as he stepped between her knees, his hands resting on either side of her. His closeness was comforting, a shield against the world that had demanded so much from both of them.

“Lucanis, what are you doing?” Nyx’s voice was softer now, her tone carrying more curiosity than protest.

“Making sure you understand something,” he said, his hands coming up to cradle her face, his thumbs brushing gently against her cheekbones. “I can’t lose you, Nyxahlia. Not to the Fade, not to yourself, not to anything. Do you hear me?”

She nodded, her heart aching at the vulnerability in his voice. “I hear you.”

“Good,” he said, his voice dipping lower, the edges of Spite’s influence threading through it. “Because you’re mine, and I protect what’s mine.”

A flicker of a smile ghosted across her lips. “You’re awfully possessive, you know that?”

Lucanis tilted his head, his smirk deepening. “Yes, I do recall being told that before.” He leaned in, pressing a kiss to the tip of her nose. Then, as if tracing a map, his lips followed the line of her scar, moving slowly down her cheek, across her jaw, and along her neck. Each touch was unhurried, reverent.

“Nyx…I want to…” Lucanis took a deep breath, steadying himself as he pulled back just enough to meet her gaze. His hands trembled slightly where they rested on her face, and his eyes held an emotion she hadn’t often seen, vulnerability, mixed with something unspoken but deeply profound.

“Nyx,” he began again, his voice softer now, “I want to be with to you. Completely. But…” He hesitated, searching her face as if looking for permission, for understanding. “I’ve never done this before. Not…this.”

She blinked, momentarily caught off guard. “You’ve…never?”

Lucanis shook his head, a small, wry smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “No. I’ve had chances, yes. But I never wanted to…not until now. Not until it was someone I loved.”

Her breath hitched, her heart clenching at the weight of his confession. He said it so plainly, yet with a tenderness that left her reeling. She cupped his face again, her fingers threading into his hair as she held his gaze.

“Oh, Lucanis…” Nyx’s voice was barely above a whisper, thick with emotion. “You don’t have to explain. You don’t have to prove anything to me.”

“I want to,” he said firmly, his hands sliding down to rest on her waist. “You deserve more than I can put into words. And if there’s one thing I’ve learned from Spite…” He chuckled softly, the sound laced with affection. “It’s to seize what matters most. And you are what matters most.”

Nyx felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes, and she leaned forward, resting her forehead against his. “I love you, Lucanis. I love you and Spite, both of you, completely.”

At her words, a flicker of warmth bloomed in her mind, the unmistakable presence of Spite. “We love you too, Nyxahlia. And tonight, I’ll leave this moment to him…but don’t think I won’t remind you of it later.”

Her lips curved into a soft smile, and she could feel Lucanis relax, sensing her understanding. “You’re a little dramatic,” she murmured, her voice teasing but full of affection.

“It’s part of the charm,” Lucanis replied, his grin widening before it softened again. “But I need you to know…if we do this...it’s forever for me. I want all of you. For as long as you’ll have me.”

Nyx’s breath hitched again, and she pulled him closer, her lips brushing against his in a kiss that spoke every word she couldn’t yet say. When they broke apart, her voice was steady, resolute. “Then you’ll have me. Always.”

Lucanis exhaled shakily, the weight of the moment settling over them like a protective cocoon. He pressed another kiss to her forehead. Nyx hopped off the desk, leading Lucanis to the bed. “Simple is better, until everyone is sure of what their doing. But, I promise you that eventually we will make memories on every surface in this Lighthouse,” she told him.

He chuckled, “Is that a threat or a promise?” She grinned, open and honest.

“Depends,” she paused, her flirty smile fading, and her face turning serious, “Lucanis…I’ve…well I’ve never been with a man. I’ve only been with women-one woman.”

He smiled at her, softly. “We can figure it out together then.”

Nyx nodded, a mix of nervousness and anticipation fluttering in her chest. Lucanis's hands were gentle as he guided her to sit on the edge of the bed, his fingers trailing along her arms with a feather-light touch. He knelt before her, much as he had earlier, but this time, his eyes held a different kind of intensity.

"We'll go slow," he murmured, his voice low and reassuring, to himself and her. "And if at any point you want to stop, just say the word."

She reached out, running her fingers through his hair. "The same goes for you," she said softly.

Lucanis smiled, leaning into her touch. "Of course."

He started with her boots, unlacing them carefully and setting them aside. His hands moved to her ankles, thumbs tracing small circles on her skin. Nyx shivered atthe sensation, her breath catching as Lucanis slowly worked his way up her legs. His touch was reverent, exploring every inch of her with a tenderness that made her heart ache.

When he reached her thighs, he paused, looking up at her with a question in his eyes. Nyx nodded, lifting her hips slightly to allow him to remove her trousers. As the fabric slid away, she felt a moment of vulnerability, but the adoration in Lucanis's gaze chased away any lingering doubts. He gently traced the perfectly straigh scar that circled her knee, it’s twin reflected on her other leg.

“This is from…?” he asked quietly.

“Yes…they’re…all over,” she told him softly.

"You're beautiful," he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to her knee, then rising to pull her shirt over her head. He repeated his process, kissing along the scars the ran in a Y across her entire torso.

Nyx smiled, her cheeks flushing. "Your turn," she said, tugging gently at his shirt.

Lucanis stood, allowing her to undress him with the same care he had shown her. As each piece of clothing fell away,Nyx's fingers traced the contours of his body, exploring the lean muscles and scattered scars that told the story of his life. She paused at a particularly jagged scar across his ribs, her touch feather-light.

"Mage killing," Lucanis explained softly. "From before I met you."

Nyx leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss to the scar. "I'm glad you survived," she murmured against his skin.

Lucanis cupped her face, tilting it up to meet his gaze. "So am I," he said, his voice thick with emotion.

He leaned down, capturing her lips in a kiss that started soft but quickly deepened, months of pent-up longing finally finding release. Nyx's hands trailed down his chest, until she lightly pushed him onto his back on the bed.

Nyx straddled Lucanis, her hands splayed across his chest as she gazed down at him. The trust in his eyes made her heart swell with affection. She leaned down, pressing soft kisses along his jaw and neck.

"Still okay?" she whispered against his skin.

Lucanis nodded, his hands coming to rest on her hips. "More than okay," he breathed.

Nyx continued her exploration, mapping out the planes of his body with her lips and fingertips. She reveled in the small gasps and shivers she elicited, each one a victory. When she reached the waistband of his last layer, she paused, looking up at him for permission.

"Please," Lucanis said, his voice rough with desire.

With gentle hands, Nyx removed them, tossing them away with a flourish that earned her a small laugh. She took a moment to admire him, her eyes roaming over his form with appreciation. Lucanis reached for her, pulling her down for a deep, passionate kiss.

"You're still wearing too much," he murmured against her lips, his fingers playing with the edge of her undergarments.

Nyx smiled, sitting up to remove them herself. As the last piece of fabric fell away, Lucanis's breath caught in his throat. "You're breathtaking," Lucanis whispered, his eyes roaming over Nyx's body with reverence.

Nyx felt a blush creep across her cheeks at his words. She leaned down, capturing his lips in a tender kiss. Lucanis's hands explored her body, tracing the curves and planes with gentle curiosity. When his fingers brushed against a sensitive spot, Nyx arched into his touch, a quiet moan escaping her lips.

"Nyx, show me where?" Lucanis murmured, his voice low and husky.

Nyx nodded, guiding his hand to where she needed it most. As Lucanis touched her, his movements growing more confident with each passing moment, Nyx felt herself melting into his touch, her body responding with an intensity that took her breath away. Lucanis watched her reactions closely, his eyes dark with desire and concentration as he learned what brought her pleasure. She grabbed his wrist, and moved his hand slightly.

"Like this?" he whispered, adjusting his movements.

"Yes," Nyx gasped, her hips rocking against his hand. "Just like that. You’re doing perfectly."

Encouraged by her response, Lucanis grew bolder. He leaned up, lightly biting at her neck as his fingers continued their work. Nyx arched into him, one hand tangling in his hair while the other gripped his shoulder.

He didn’t stop, nipping and licking his way across her shoulders, down her chest, anywhere he could reach, with a fervent mix of determination and passion.

Nyx’s good hand remained in his hair, steadfast. She tugged lightly whenever the sharp edge of his teeth threatened to cross from pleasure into pain, and each pull was met with a low hun of acknowledgment from him.

As the tension built within her, Nyx found herself craving more. She reached between them, wrapping her hand around Lucanis's length. He groaned against her skin, his hips bucking involuntarily.

"Nyxahlia I need you. But I don’t know what to…" Lucanis’ voice was shaky, unsure.

Nyx nodded, pushing him back down to his back and positioning herself above him. She paused, meeting his eyes. "I can lead this dance,” she joked, before turning serious “Are you sure?"

Lucanis reached up cup her face, his gaze filled with love and certainty. "I've never been more sure of anything."

Slowly, Nyx lowered herself onto him, gasping at the sensation. Lucanis's hands gripped her hips, steadying her as she adjusted to the feeling of fullness. When she was fully seated, they both stilled, overwhelmed by the intensity of their connection.

"Are you okay?" Lucanis asked, his thumb stroking her cheek gently.

Nyx nodded, leaning down to kiss him softly. "More than okay," she whispered against his lips.

She began to move, setting a slow, gentle rhythm. Lucanis matched her pace, his hips rising to meet hers with each downward motion. They moved together, finding a harmony that felt as natural as breathing.

Nyx braced her hands on Lucanis's chest, her fingers splaying across his skin as she rode him. She watched his face, memorizing every flicker of pleasure that crossed his features. His eyes were half-lidded, dark with desire, but they never left hers.

"You're incredible," Lucanis murmured, his voice rough with emotion. His hands roamed her body, tracing the curves of her waist, the swell of her breasts, the line of her throat. Every touch was reverent, as if he was committing her to memory through his fingertips.

Nyx leaned down, capturing his lips in a deep kiss. Her tongue danced with his as she quickened her pace, feeling the tension building within her. Lucanis groaned into her mouth, his hands gripping her hips tighter as he matched her rhythm.

"Nyx," he gasped, breaking the kiss. "I think I'm close."

She nodded, her own breath coming in short pants. "Me too. Together?"

Lucanis nodded, his eyes locked on hers. One of his hands slipped between them, his fingers finding that sensitive spot again. Nyx hissed at the added stimulation, her movements becoming more erratic.

"Show me how it’s done," Lucanis whispered, his voice strained. "I've got you."

Those words, coupled with the intensity of his gaze and the sensations coursing through her body, pushed Nyx over the edge. She cried out his name as waves of pleasure washed over her, her body trembling with the intensity of her release. Lucanis followed moments later, his fingers digging into her hips as he groaned her name, his own climax overtaking him.

For a long moment, they remained still, breathing heavily as they came down from their shared high. Nyx collapsed onto Lucanis's chest, her heart pounding against his. His arms wrapped around her, holding her close as if she might disappear.

"That was..." Lucanis began, his voice filled with awe.

"Yeah," Nyx agreed, pressing a soft kiss to his collarbone. "It was.”

They lay there for a while, basking in the afterglow, their bodies intertwined. Lucanis's fingers traced lazy patterns on Nyx's back, following the lines of her spine with a tenderness that made her heart ache.

"Feeling okay? Brain, body, all of it?" Nyx asked softly, lifting her head to meet his gaze.

Lucanis smiled, his eyes filled with warmth. "More than okay. I'm... I don't think I have the words to describe how I feel right now."

Nyx chuckled softly, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. "I know what you mean."

She shifted, moving to lie beside him, her head resting on his shoulder. Lucanis turned to face her, his hand coming up to cup her cheek.

"Thank you," he murmured, his thumb stroking her skin gently.

Nyx raised an eyebrow, a small smile playing on her lips. "For what?"

"For trusting me," Lucanis said softly. "For being patient. For... everything."

She leaned in, pressing her forehead against his. "You don't need to thank me for that. I love you, Lucanis. All of you."

He pulled her closer, burying his face in her hair. "I love you too, Nyxahlia. More than I ever thought possible."

They lay in comfortable silence for a while, their breathing synchronizing as they held each other. Nyx felt a sense of peace wash over her, a feeling of rightness that she hadn't experienced in a long time.

"You know," Lucanis murmured after a while, his voice tinged with amusement, "Spite's being uncharacteristically quiet. Especially for how long he’s been campaigning for this."

Nyx chuckled softly, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on Lucanis's chest. "Maybe he's giving us a moment of privacy."

As if on cue, a familiar warmth bloomed in her mind, one reason she was so grateful to be a Watcher. Spite's presence was gentle, almost hesitant. "I didn't want to intrude," his voice echoed in her thoughts. "This moment was for you and Lucanis."

Lucanis laughed, the sound rumbling through his chest. "Will wonders never cease?"

"I heard that," Spite grumbled good-naturedly. "Don't get used to it. I'll be back to my charming self soon enough. And next time we’ll put Nyx on her back."

Nyx huffed a laugh. “We’ll see, Spite.”

They laid silently for a moment, enjoying the closeness they could have now.

“Mi vida?” Lucanis voice was low.

“Hm?” Nyx’s fingers absently traced over his skin.

“You know how they say practice makes perfect? We have all night, and I promise four cups of coffee with you name on them tomorrow.” Nyx laughed, a clear, happy sound.

_________

The next morning, Nyx stirred first, her body aching in unfamiliar yet pleasant ways. She blinked groggily, quietly groaning as she flexed her leg.

Lucanis was sprawled beside her, one arm draped protectively over her waist, his face buried in the crook of her neck. His breathing was steady, warm puffs of air ghosting across her skin, just as it had the night before. For a moment, she simply lay there, letting the quiet peace of the morning wash over her, her fingers absently tracing shapes where they could reach Lucanis’ skin.

His hair was an unruly mess, strands sticking out in every direction from where her fingers had tugged and twisted the night before. A faint smile curved her lips as she reached up to smooth it down, her fingers brushing gently through the dark locks.

“Mmm,” Lucanis murmured, his grip tightening around her as he began to stir. “Don’t stop.” His voice was rough with sleep, but the teasing edge was unmistakable.

“You’re awake,” Nyx said softly, her tone caught somewhere between amusement and exasperation.

“Yes, ma’am. Barely though,” he joked, cracking one eye open to look at her. His gaze softened immediately, a lazy grin spreading across his face. “Morning, mi vida.”

“Morning,” she replied, her voice quieter than usual.

Lucanis shifted, propping himself up on one elbow to get a better look at her. His hand found hers, his fingers tracing the edges of the bandage still wrapped around her injured one. “How’s this feeling?” he asked, his voice serious now.

“Not wonderful,” she admitted. “I think I may have overused it yesterday, but it's manageable.”

“That’s no good,” he said, leaning down to press a soft kiss to her wrist, just above the bandage.

Nyx felt heat rise to her cheeks and tried to deflect. “For all you’re complaining about my feet you’re a terrible bed partner too, you know. You steal all the blankets.”

Lucanis laughed, a rich sound that filled the small room. “And yet, here you are, princesa.”

“Here I am,” she muttered, though her smile betrayed her.

He shifted closer, his forehead coming to rest against hers. “I meant it, you know,” he said, his voice quieter now, the teasing edge gone. “Last night, this morning-you’re mine, Nyxahlia. And I’m yours. No matter what happens.”

Nyx’s chest tightened, her usual walls crumbling in the face of his sincerity. She reached up, cupping his face in her good hand. “I know,” she said, her voice soft but steady. “Always.”

Lucanis smiled, pressing one last kiss to her lips before settling back against her. “Good,” he murmured, pulling her closer. “Now, let me hold you a little longer before we have to face the world again.”

As they lay entwined in the warmth of their cocoon, Nyx’s fingers absently traced her patterns along Lucanis’s chest. A comfortable silence settled over them until Lucanis’s soft chuckle broke through.

“What?” Nyx asked, narrowing her eyes at the mischievous glint in his.

He grinned, far too pleased with himself. “Oh, nothing. Just imagining the absolute field day the others are going to have when they see us.”

Nyx raised an eyebrow, confused for a moment before the realization hit her. Her hand shot up to her neck, brushing over the skin there, on her chest, her stomach and hips, even the bottom of her jaw and her wrist. Purple and red marks littered her skin. Everywhere.

She learned back to get a better look at him in the light. At least she was polite about it. All of his marks would be concealed. She hadn’t intended that. Second nature.

“Oh no,” she groaned, sitting up slightly and glaring at him. “Tell me it’s not as bad as it looks to me. How did you even do that?” she bemoaned, pointing to a particularly odd spot in the crook of her elbow.

Lucanis didn’t even try to hide his laughter. “Let’s just say Bellara might faint from secondhand embarrassment, Taash won’t stop smirking for a week, and your sister… well, she might actually throw something at me. If only they knew it’s you who did the…what did you call it…ravishing? Bossing?”

“Directing. Coordinating?”Nyx suggested before she buried her face in her hands. “For fucks sake, I’m going to need full body armor and some high-level illusion magic.”

Lucanis reached up, tugging her hands gently away from her face. “Don’t you dare. You look incredible, marks and all. They’re proof I’m yours.”

“That’s not helping, they won’t even know about yours.” she muttered, though a faint blush crept up her neck.

“Don’t worry, mi amor. If anyone gives you too much grief, Spite will make sure they regret it.” He gave her a wolfish grin, the playful edge in his voice making her groan again.

“Oh, they’re going to love this,” she said, flopping back against the pillows dramatically.

Lucanis leaned over her, his expression softening. “Let them have their fun,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the corner of her lips. “They only tease because they care, they’re happy to see you living. And, if we’re being honest, they’ve probably been waiting for this to happen longer than we have.”

Nyx huffed, but the small smile tugging at her lips betrayed her. “Fine. But you’re the one explaining if you keep subtly repeating yourself and I…I don’t choke to death on an egg.”

“Deal,” Lucanis said, laughing as he pulled her close again.

Nyx sighed, resting her head against his chest. “This is going to be the longest day of my life.”

“Maybe,” Lucanis said, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “But at least we’re facing it together.”

[basic-x-witch]

Introducing the Ingellvar twins; Rook & Bishop

Me and my girlfriend created an AU featuring both of our Mourn Watcher “Rooks” and I plan to create and post some of my art and maybe post some short stories based in our AU.

Nymphadora is the oldest twin and is romantically involved with Emmrich.

Nyxahlia is the younger twin and is romancing Lucanis.

Please feel free to ask me any questions about our AU or our characters I’d love to answer them!

[basic-x-witch]

The Twin's Gambit Playlist

I'll just leave this here.

Songs aren't in any particular order, we just added songs that fit the overall vibes of both Nym and Nyx and the AU as a whole. This is what me and @pocketcrows listen to when we are writing, so we would love to share it.

[basic-x-witch]

Table of Contents for The Twins Gambit AU Story

I will be linking the corresponding chapters as they are released every Friday . Both me and @pocketcrows really hope you all enjoy this AU we have created together. We have really fallen in love with these characters, and we hope you learn to love them just as much as we have.

Chapter 1: The Open is Cold

Chapter 2: Sadness Consumes Her

Chapter 3: Determination Becomes Her

Chapter 4: Can We Return to Normalcy?

Chapter 5: The Crow and His Chess Piece

Chapter 6: La Petite Mort

Chapter 7: Local Elf Bullied While Minding Her Own Business 

Chapter 8: The Aftermath of Madness

Chapter 9: The Truth Comes Out

Chapter 10: A Symphony Born of Struggle

Chapter 11: Was I Ever Enough?

Chapter 12: The Keeper of Her Soul

Chapter 13: The Crow Can Smell Blood

Chapter 14: The Sister Swap

Chapter 15: Painful Monotony and Carnal Pleasures

Chapter 16: The Last Gambit

Chapter 17: An Unlikely Proposition Mid Battle 

Chapter 18: The Blighted Winter From Tevinter

Chapter 19: The Game Plan and Final Goodbyes

Chapter 20: It Takes Blood and Tears To Kill a God

Chapter 21: The Fall of Fen’harel 

Chapter 22: It’s Not Your Time Nymphadora

Chapter 23: War is Over, What Now?