#OR! spite makes it for lucanis in the morning before he wakes up

[oni-odyssey]

Lucanis Latte Art ☕

[bg3daydream]

Breakfast (Lucanis x Rook fanfiction)

Lucanis x Female Rook one-shot.

Summary: Lucanis makes breakfast for Rook after they spend the nigth together once she's back from the Fade-prison, relieved to have her back but still worried about her. Short (2285 words) and sweet.

Lucanis woke up feeling rested for the first time in…he didn’t even know how long. That he'd been sleeping in Rook’s arms sure was the reason for it.

They were scrunched together on the couch in Rook’s room, with barely room to move, but for Lucanis it was perfect, with his head pillowed on Rook’s chest and her arms around him. Even Spite seemed to have calmed down, he hadn’t annoyed him once. His only regret was not having slept like that before that night, the distance he’d made himself keep for reasons that seemed important once but not anymore.

He was all too aware of how close he’d been to losing Rook. Since she’d been trapped in the Fade, Lucanis had been consumed not only by fear but also by guilt and regret. He’d let it happen, he hadn’t been quick enough, smart enough, and Rook had been taken from him. She had needed him and he had failed again.

He’d been searching non-stop for a way to get her back, even Spite had been agitated, driving him crazy, and he knew he had to be grateful for the team that they’d found a way to get Rook back.

After that, he’d known there was no way he’d let his fears and insecurities keep him from being truly Rook’s any longer. He’d kill the gods, the blight itself, anything that threatened Rook’s again, no matter what, he wouldn't fail her again, and he wouldn’t deny himself the comfort of her arms any longer.

Mindful not to wake her, Lucanis pulled back from Rook’s chest. She was still fast asleep, and Lucanis wondered if she’d slept at all those weeks she’d been trapped in the Fade, if she’d even needed it. 

She didn’t seem more tired than usual, neither did she seem hurt, but Rook hadn’t really elaborated on what had happened to her, and Lucanis hadn’t pushed her to tell him. She seemed more worried about what’d been happening while she was gone and how to fix it, and Lucanis knew it was important, but he wished Rook looked out for herself more. If she didn’t, then he’d be the one to watch over her and care for her.

Lucanis brushed his knuckles ever so softly over Rook’s cheek. He didn’t feel there was much he could offer her, besides his knives and his skills as an assassin, in which he felt he’d been failing abysmally.

It seemed Rook was going to sleep longer, and so, Lucanis decided to get up and get her breakfast. Feeding her was, at least, one thing he could do for Rook without failing her.

He carefully covered Rook with a blanket, pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, and got dressed quickly.

Walking out of the room and down the stairs, Lucanis found Emmrich already awake, sitting down on the armchair next to the coffee table, doing research, with a cup of steaming tea in front of him, while Manfred hovered near. Emmrich looked up from his papers to give Lucanis a tired smile.

“Good morning. How is she?” He asked as he glanced upstairs.

Lucanis sighed and shrugged. “I don’t know. Not bad I think, but she hasn’t told me much of what happened to her. She wants to focus on what we have to do now.”

“Understandable so,” Emmrich conceded. “I know everything we lost, everyone…and everything we have to fight now. But we got Rook back, enjoy that.”

“I plan to. Thank you, Emmrich.” Lucanis was aware of how, without the Fade expertise of Emmrich, he probably couldn’t have gotten Rock back to him.

Emmrich nodded graciously and went back to his papers.

“Manfred,” Lucanis addressed the skeleton, who hissed a yes. “If you see Rook getting up, you come running to find me before she can”

“Yes!”

Once in the kitchen, Lucanis tried to decide on what to do for breakfast. He didn’t want it to be something overly complicated or that would take too long, afraid that Rook might wake up before he was finished and find herself alone.

Finally, he settled for orlesian pancakes. 

The kitchen felt cold and abandoned. Lucanis had been in no mood for cooking during the last couple of weeks, his mind was desperately looking for ways to bring Rook back, when he was not mourning their potential loss and blaming himself, and having to deal with Spite’s own commentary and franticness.

Trying to ignore the nagging thoughts of their missing friends, everything that had gone wrong and could get worse soon, and the still lingering fear of losing Rook, Lucanis focused on making breakfast and on the thought of a sleeping Rook, back to him.

He cooked swiftly, and once everything was ready, he placed several servings on a trail and walked out of the kitchen and back to the main building.

Emmrich was still in the armchair, studying the papers, while Manfred stood as a lookout on the staircase, watching the door of Rook’s room. When he saw Lucanis, he hissed and did a thumb-up, and Lucanis couldn’t help his smile.

“Thank you, Manfred,” Lucanis said while placing a cup of coffee and a plate of pancakes on the table in front of Emmrich.

“Oh, thank you Lucanis,” Emmrich smiled at him over his papers. “This was most kind.”

Lucanis shrugged and made his way back to Rook’s room. She was still asleep. Lucanis placed the tray with the pancakes and coffee on the table and  knelt down next to the couch, looking at Rook. He reached to trail his fingers down her cheek, ever so softly.

“Doesn’t. Wake,” Spite said, unhelpful.

“She needs rest,” Lucanis muttered, trying not to let Spite’s agitation get to him.

“She. Is not. Waking up,” Spite insisted.

Lucanis never thought the demon could care for anyone, but there they were. Still, he didn’t need Spite putting more fears inside his mind and going frantic again, it wouldn’t help anyone.

“Rook’s tired, she’ll wake up when she’s rested enough,” he tried again, although Lucanis wasn’t very sure if he was convincing himself or the demon. “Go play with Manfred.”

“Pff.” Spite brisked. “He. Thinks. He Is. A mage. Now,” the demon pretty much ranted. “He. Thinks. He. Is. Better.”

“I doubt it,” Lucanis answered, but truly, what did he know…he just hoped Manfred didn’t decide to try and teach Spite magic now. “Go with Manfred or shut it and let Rook sleep.”

Spite didn’t say anything else, but Lucanis could feel his unhappiness.

He watched Rook’s face, caressing her cheek ever so gently again, trying not to entertain Spite’s thoughts of her not waking. There was no reason for that, she was just tired, even if she was in the Fade in her sleep, she was not trapped there any longer, it was just normal dreaming…right?

Lucanis’ heart had begun beating faster, Spite’s unease was growing too, and so he tried to stop that train of thought. Rook was back, she was alright, she was just resting…but if she didn’t wake up by herself soon, he’d wake her. 

Moving even closer, Lucanis leaned over Rook, still kneeling on the floor, until he could rest his head over her chest. He closed his eyes, listening to her heartbeat, feeling her chest rising and falling as she breathed, and he tried not to let worry and overthinking take hold of his mind.

Eventually, Lucanis felt the change in her breathing as she began to wake up, and relief washed over him. He pushed back to look at her as Rook’s eyes opened, and she gave him a drowsy smile that made something in his stomach flutter and twirl. She was there, she was awake, she was fine…and she was smiling at him, her sleep-lidded eyes looking at him so lovingly that it was hard to believe she was looking at him.

“Hey….” Rook reached to cup his face and Lucanis leaned into her touch. Her smile turned into a frown when she noticed he was on the floor. “Did I kick you off the couch? Shit, I’m sorry.”

“No, you didn’t,” Lucanis rushed to explain. “I was up already. I made you breakfast.”

There it was again, that soft smile and that love in her eyes, making Lucanis’ heart skip a beat. “Of course you did.” 

Rook’s voice was quiet, content, while her hand cupping his face caressed his cheek, and Lucanis turned his head to kiss her palm. Rook’s smile grew wider at that and she leaned to press a soft kiss to his lips. It was gentle, chaste, yet it made Lucanis feel like he might melt. 

Rook pulled back, reaching to take her shirt that somehow had ended up hanging from the back of the couch, and she put it on. Then, she reached as if to take her cup of coffee, but Lucanis was already handing it to her.

“Thanks,” she smiled again and reached to take his hand. “Come here.”

Lookanis got up from the floor and sat down on the couch next to Rook. Ignoring his own cup of coffee, he looked at her as she contently sipped hers while she looked at the fishes swimming in that odd aquarium. Lucanis had felt uneasy about that part of Rook’s room before, it reminded him of the Ossuary, but it didn’t anymore, not with Rook there next to him.

Rook caught him staring at her and gave him a small smile, leaning to kiss the side of his head. “I’m fine,” she reassured him. 

Lucanis wasn’t sure if it was true, but he didn’t want to push her. She’d be fine, though, he’d make sure of it.

Rook leaned to place the cup back on the tray and cut a piece of the pancakes, bringing it to her mouth. She closed her eyes with a delighted hum and Lucanis felt something in his belly stir at it.

“This is so good,” she said as she took another bite.

“I’m glad.” Lucanis was pretty confident in his cooking skills, more than in his assassin skills right now, but it was nice to have confirmation that Rook was enjoying her breakfast.

Rook looked at him over her shoulder. “Did you have something besides coffee?” she didn’t let him answer. “Of course you didn’t.”

She cut the rest of the pancakes in small, bite-size pieces, and leaned back on the sofa again, taking plate and fork with her. “Here.” She reached the fork with one of the pancake pieces towards Lucanis.

“It’s your breakfast.”

“It’s enough for us both and more…come on,” Rook insisted and Lucanis gave in, taking the bite that she was offering.

Lucanis wondered if it should have felt ridiculous, letting someone feed him pancakes, but it didn’t, he just felt content, loved even. He wondered when was the last time he’d felt like that, or if he’d even felt like that at all before.

He let Rook feed him another couple of bites before nudging her and reminding her to eat herself, and so she dug into the pancakes with appetite. “Seriously, Lucanis, these are so good,” she said between bites and he couldn’t stop how pleased it made him feel.

Still, he couldn’t help but wonder if she’d been hungry, maybe even starving. How hadn’t he thought of feeding her sooner, he shouldn’t have fallen asleep last night without making sure she was fed, no matter how warm and comfortable her arms had felt.

“Did you eat anything while you were…away?” Lucanis found himself asking.

He wasn’t sure how the Fade worked, how she could have survived those weeks without eating anything, if maybe she didn’t need it while in the Fade…

Rook shook her head and leaned over to place the plate of pancakes, with barely anything left, on the table, taking the cup of coffee instead and leaning back on the couch again with a sigh.

“I know it was weeks for you here but…for me…I don’t know,” she trailed off. “I don’t know how it works, but it felt…I don’t even know…eternal but static at the same time…” Rook shuddered and Lucanis leaned to place an arm around her, regretting to have asked. “I don’t want to think about it now.”

“Of course,” he whispered, pulling her close.

His wings popped out without him meaning to, wrapping around them. Lucanis’d be embarrassed about his lack of control of the wings sometimes, if it weren’t because Rook seemed to like them. He had to wonder if Taash was right when they told him he should get out the wings when he was with Rook, that she’d like it.

“Good morning, Spite,” Rook said, smiling.

“Rook,” the demon greeted, but Lucanis was thankful he didn’t try to control him, seeming content just being acknowledged.

Rook took another sip of the coffee and then offered the cup to Lucanis. He was about to refuse, that was her coffee, he had a cup for himself, but she was looking at him with that soft smile, those caring, loving eyes, in a way that made him feel as if his heart was growing in size, and he couldn’t refuse her, taking a sip of the coffee before giving her the cup back.

Rook leaned against him with a content sigh and Lucanis kissed the side of her head. 

There were gods to kill, people to help, a world to save, friends to avenge, they had to get at it soon but perhaps, perhaps it all could wait just a bit longer.

Perhaps they could stay like that, Lucanis’ arm and wings enveloping Rook, basking in each other, for a little bit, if only until they finished their coffee.

*

NA:

Both me and my Rook have fallen in love with this gentle, caring assassin and we want to hold him and protect him, but sometimes Rook needs to be taken care of too.

I think I want to write more for them.

If you liked the fic, please let me know in a comment, and as always, reblogs are more than welcome.

Excuse my English, it’s not my first language.

[selunesdreams]

Chapter 17: No One From House Dellamorte Kneels

“The Crows abandoned me.” She said, shoving him off. “I just had the sense to go where I was welcome.” Viago shot to his feet, gesturing around the room. “Is this where you’re welcome, Fiammetta? Jeopardizing your life in a conflict you should have no part in? Parading yourself around a leader while-” HOW DARE- “Viago!” Lucanis snapped before Spite could break through. “This is not the time or place.” “He’s right.” Teia said, pulling Viago by the arm towards the courtyard. “Clearly the de Rivas have some things to work out, but right now, saving Caterina and stopping Illario is priority.” Viago worked his jaw as his eyes flitted between Lucanis and Rook.  HE DOES NOT LIKE YOU NEAR ROOK. DOES NOT LIKE US. “The meeting begins at dusk. In the Opera House. We’ll hold Illario’s plans off as long as we can until you arrive.” He tore his gaze away from Rook and stormed out of the kitchen, Teia casting an apologetic glance over her shoulder as she hurried after him. As the doors swung shut behind them, Lucanis grasped Rook’s wrist and drew her towards him. “He’s worried about you. Don’t take his words to heart.” “Too little, too late.” She said, wrenching her arm away. “Just get me out of here so I can kill someone who deserves it.” YES. GIVE ROOK - GIVE US - SOMETHING TO KILL. Lucanis pursed his lips, exhaling through his nose as he glanced in the direction of the courtyard.  “I’ll talk to Davrin. The others have too much going on right now. You should take some time for yourself. I’ll come get you when we’re ready.”  Out of respect, Lucanis pretended not to notice the tears pooling in Rook’s waterline. He walked to the courtyard, giving her a moment of privacy, despite how badly he wanted to pull her into his arms and comfort her. He was going to throttle her cousin later.

Pairing: Lucanis x Fem Rook/OFC x Spite???

Summary: Viago tours the Lighthouse, Davrin learns about Crow customs, neither Dellamorte ends the evening how they imagined, and Lucanis practices his brooding.

Word count: 5k

Things of note/warnings: 18+ fic, MDNI! This chapter contains content from Lucanis' veilguard quest, A Murder of Crows. Warnings for: violence, blood, Viago yelling. Please read on AO3 if you need to track warnings, they will be inevitably detailed better there (or just want to be real sweet and give me hits/kudos/comments).

Read on AO3

─── ⊹⊱♤⊰⊹ ───

“So my cousin makes you sleep in a closet?”

“I chose the pantry.”

Viago sat at the kitchen table in the Lighthouse, watching Lucanis pour himself his fourth cup of coffee that morning. He and Teia had wandered through the eluvian with news of Illario, and after last night, Lucanis had suggested Teia be the one to wake Rook up.

“Hm.” Viago drummed his fingers on the table thoughtfully. “I suppose it has good choke points.” 

As he leaned against the mantle, Lucanis glimpsed his reflection in a pot hanging by the stove. Deep circles were carved under his eyes, evidence of his paranoia of Spite sleepwalking them into Rook’s chambers again last night. 

A few more beats of uncomfortable silence passed before Viago spoke again.

“You know, Teia and I broke up over that shit Rook pulled last week.”

“Just over Rook?” Lucanis raised his eyebrows skeptically, his voice echoing inside his mug. 

“I need to work on my tone, apparently.”

Lucanis swallowed and nodded, suppressing a grin. “How long this time?”

“Ten minutes.”

“A record,” Rook sneered, following Teia into the kitchen. She perched atop the table, her legs dangling over the side. “You have news for me?”

“Illario is making his move.” Viago said, sliding an envelope across the table to her. “An invitation. To celebrate our new First Talon and discuss the situation in Treviso. It came across my desk this morning. He’s hosting nearly every Crow House at Caterina’s villa.” 

“Cousin, you look so melancholy. I thought you loved parties.” Rook ignored Viago’s scowl as she drank from his untouched cup of coffee and turned to Lucanis. “Are we crashing?”

“This is our best shot at getting Caterina out. Then, we stop Illario.”

“All the Crows in one place.” Rook said. “I’m sure an abomination and the embarrassment of the de Riva household will be more than welcome.”

“Your poor decisions would have been easily forgiven had you not deserted Treviso entirely.” Viago interjected. 

Rook froze, slowly turning to face him. 

“Excuse me?” Her voice pitched higher as she slapped the invite down onto the table in front of him. “I’m fulfilling a contract fighting elven gods . I chased a dragon out of our city. Give me a fucking break.” 

Viago stared, unflinching. “You abandoned your family to take a contract I didn’t approve.”

“Vi…” Teia warned.

“I abandoned no one!” Rook snarled.

Lucanis shifted, feeling Spite bristle in reaction to her anger.

“Where were the Crows when my father lost his mind? When he drowned me every day as some part of his sick training regiment? When he beat you senseless for trying to protect me? When I was starving, because he poisoned what little meals we coud afford to build my immunity, until I was petrified at the thought of eating breakfast? ”

Viago remained silent, his fury simmering beneath the surface. Teia bit her lip and Lucanis set his coffee on top of the mantle, both moving closer in case they needed to arbitrate. 

“And then, when I made a well-intentioned mistake, my own cousin makes a mockery of me by having me serve as the First Talon’s glorified maid, all because he decided I needed to be made an example of!”

As Rook held Viago’s glare, Lucanis reached for her shoulder, pulling her several steps back. 

“The Crows abandoned me.” She said, shoving him off. “I just had the sense to go where I was welcome.”

Viago shot to his feet, gesturing around the room. “Is this where you’re welcome, Fiammetta? Jeopardizing your life in a conflict you should have no part in? Parading yourself around a leader while-”

HOW DARE-

“Viago!” Lucanis snapped before Spite could break through. “This is not the time or place.”

“He’s right.” Teia said, pulling Viago by the arm towards the courtyard. “Clearly the de Rivas have some things to work out, but right now, saving Caterina and stopping Illario is priority.”

Viago worked his jaw as his eyes flitted between Lucanis and Rook. 

HE DOES NOT LIKE YOU NEAR ROOK. DOES NOT LIKE US.

“The meeting begins at dusk. In the Opera House. We’ll hold Illario’s plans off as long as we can until you arrive.”

Viago tore his gaze away and stormed out of the kitchen, Teia casting an apologetic glance over her shoulder as she hurried after him. As the doors swung shut behind them, Lucanis grasped Rook’s wrist and drew her towards him.

“He’s worried about you. Don’t take his words to heart.”

“Too little, too late.” She said, wrenching her arm away. “Just get me out of here so I can kill someone who deserves it.”

YES. GIVE ROOK - GIVE US - SOMETHING TO KILL.

Lucanis pursed his lips, exhaling through his nose as he glanced in the direction of the courtyard. 

“I’ll talk to Davrin. The others have too much going on right now. You should take some time for yourself. I’ll come get you when we’re ready.” 

Out of respect, Lucanis pretended not to notice the tears pooling in Rook’s waterline. He walked to the courtyard, giving her a moment of privacy, despite how badly he wanted to pull her into his arms and comfort her himself.

He was going to throttle her cousin later.

─── ⊹⊱♤⊰⊹ ───

“So, where are we headed?” Davrin asked as Rook pulled her blade from the heart of a Venatori mage.

“The Opera House. It’s…” Lucanis stopped in his tracks and scanned the rooftops on the horizon. “You know it’s across the grounds. In the guesthouse.”  

“Opera House?” Davrin echoed. 

“Caterina hosts galas there, Crow business. Those kinds of things.” Lucanis leapt down onto a balcony, motioning for them to follow. 

“No Opera?” 

“Rarely.” Rook interjected. “It’s a bit of an inside joke.”

“How?” 

“It’s ah….where we make people sing. If you catch my drift.” 

“Uh…” Davrin offered her a hand as she hopped across a gap between roofs.

“They interrogate people. Torture them.” Rook ignored his hand, landing safely on the rooftop beside him. Chivalry wasn’t dead amongst Crows, but underestimating a lady certainly was. Out of her periphery, she caught Lucanis observing with amusement as the warden awkwardly wiped his palm on his armor and muttered something to himself. 

“There.” Lucanis pointed out a tower with a stained glass window. “That will get us where we need to be.” 

“Estate’s pretty big already. Does it really need a second house?” Davrin asked. 

“It’s for guests.” Lucanis replied, as if the answer should be obvious. “You don’t think we’d just let them stay in our rooms? Risk them cutting our throats?”

“I had my own room in the main house.” Rook bragged, catching up to Lucanis on the next rooftop as they neared the villa. 

Lucanis smirked. “You were…special.”

Rook’s mood had lightened after a few hours of uninterrupted rest, but she was certain the second she was in the same room as her cousin and Illario, her fury would return. For the time being, she chose not to be bothered by Viago’s earlier comments. 

With a polite touch to the small of Rook’s back, Lucanis ushered her ahead onto a fallen beam between platforms. 

“After you.”

She nodded graciously, holding her arms out and stepping carefully across. 

“I get it. He can be a gentleman because he knows all your bird customs.” Davrin grumbled, balancing precariously on the walkway behind them. “Remind me why we couldn’t just go through the front door?”

“Rook already tried that. It didn’t end well for her.” Lucanis said, earning himself a jab to the ribs as she passed him. “Besides, there’s no way my cousin would let me in-”

“-HE FEARS US. GOOD. HE SHOULD.”

Rook slipped inside a broken window, descending over stacked crates and barrels to the landing below. As they arrived at a gate, Lucanis pried some freshly placed boards off the secret passage to the villa.

“I had to come back and conceal the escape route again after you tried to die here.” He said as Rook shot him a questioning look. “I thought I was the only one who knew about it. I found it playing as a boy.” 

“I found it when I left the villa. Illario doesn’t know it’s here.” She said, effortlessly slipping through the narrow passage. Lucanis followed her, Davrin grunting as he squeezed himself inside.

They crept through the cavernous tunnels until they reached the underbelly of the house in silence. Rook pressed an ear to a pair of wooden doors, listening carefully to a conversation on the other side. 

“They mentioned an old woman.” She relayed, closing her eyes to better make out their voices. 

Lucanis scowled. “Caterina.”

“Must be a difficult prisoner,” Davrin mused. 

“She’s difficult in any scenario.” Rook mumbled, earning herself a glare from Lucanis. He cracked open the door before motioning them on. In a blur of violet, he advanced ahead, running his blade through two Venatori standing guard in the hall.

“Ugh. Illario let them in here?” He wrinkled his nose, wiping his sword on their clothes as they choked on their own blood, “I’m going to have to have the entire place cleaned.”

His footsteps were silent against the intricate marble flooring as Lucanis led them through the villa. White sheets covered the furniture and sculptures, just as they had over a year ago, albeit dustier. 

“This is your home?” Davrin asked, looking around from floor to ceiling. “No wonder your cousin wanted to inherit.” 

“I lived here until I was 18. Caterina made us get our own homes after that. But she still kept rooms for us. Ilario abused that privilege. Insufferably.” 

Spite inhaled deeply. “Home? Smells like dust and linseed oil.” 

“Don’t say that when Catrina is in earshot.” Lucanis chastised him.

“So, Rook, what was so bad about that cushy assistant job?” Davrin asked. 

“Illario.” 

“TRAITOR.”

Lucanis motioned them towards the den. “Caterina’s room is up here.”

Slowly and soundlessly, the three ascended the stairs. At the top, Rook pressed her back to the wall, peeking around the edge. Two Venatori were stationed outside Caterina’s door, bored and yawning. With an outstretched hand, she delivered a swift electrocution to one, stunning the guard beside them in time for Lucanis to cut their throat, discarding the body into the corner. Davrin nodded, his mouth forming a line as he watched them work. 

“The door is barred from the inside.” Rook said, tugging on the handles. 

“I’ll go first.” Lucanis said, pulling her aside. “If my grandmother is in there, better she strikes me with that cane than you. I’m at least used to it.”

He leaned back and delivered a swift kick to the doors. They swung open, revealing Caterina’s room precisely as Rook remembered it, save for the mess of broken furniture that had been served as a barricade. As Lucanis stepped inside, his hopeful expression dimmed, finding it empty, but out of the corner of her eye, Rook caught a flash of amethyst just above his head. Before she could open her mouth to warn him, he caught the First Talon’s cane before it made contact with the crown of his head. Lowering her weapon, his face fell, as if he’d seen a ghost. 

“Caterina?” He breathed.

“Lucanis! My poor boy.” She lamented, kissing both of his cheeks affectionately. In shock, he returned the gesture vacantly, going through the motions before shoving a hand in his pocket. 

“I believe you dropped this,” He said, handing Caterina the opal ring she had slipped under the door to signal Rook of her presence. The two exchanged a somber look before she slid it onto her middle finger, kissing Lucanis’ cheek again before her eyes fell upon Rook. 

“Fiammetta. You kept your word and returned my grandson to me.”

“You can thank me later. Right now, we should get you to safety before we stop Illario.”

“Do not speak about me as if I cannot fend for myself! Have I not survived these Venatori on my own?” Caterina snapped. “There’s no time for heroic nonsense. I will come with you.”

“Illario is reckless, Caterina. Don’t make Lucanis lose you all over again.” Rook pleaded. 

The old woman squinted, assessing both Lucanis and Rook before giving a resigned grunt.

“Go.” she grumbled, appraising Davrin as she pushed past him out the door. “I’ll meet you in the Opera House.” 

Lucanis flashed Rook a faint smile.

“Welcome back to House Dellamorte, De Riva.”

She took his hand in hers, running a thumb across his knuckles. “It’s good to be back.”

He clasped his free hand over hers affectionately, searching her face intently.

“When this is over I-”

From the hall, Assan rushed in, inspecting every corner of the room. Lucanis’ smile faltered as Davrin entered behind the griffin, clearing his throat.

“I thought we were in a hurry.”

“We are,” Rook said, dropping Lucanis’ hand. “Come on, we can scale the window to the gardens.”

Rook bristled as they stepped inside the Opera House. It was ominous, as it had been the night she’d been misled to kill an innocent man. Since then, she had been to Crow gatherings in the space, but never under such grim circumstances or with the knowledge she now possessed about Illario’s motives.

Chatter and whispers traveled through the stairwells from above. Nearly every Crow in Treviso must be present tonight. If things didn’t go their way, it was certain death for her and Lucanis.

“Caterina’s death was a tragedy.” Illario’s voice echoed through the building as Rook and Lucanis dispatched two Venatori in the Opera’s anteroom. “But to get Lucanis back from the dead, only to lose him to a demon? For me? That is a deep personal loss.”

At her side, peering through a crack in the door, a low rumble escaped from Lucanis’ throat as he gritted his teeth. 

“Keep your head…” Davrin urged. 

“And so I take the mantle of First Talon with a heavy heart.” Illario continued, “But the Crows will rise from the ashes-”

Lucanis rose to his feet. “I’ve had enough of this.”

“Do you even have a plan?” Rook hissed.

“Knives are involved.” He replied as she followed him. 

“-with our new Venatori allies, we could claim Antiva-”

“Over my dead body!”

Illario turned, his eyes narrowing the sight of his cousin kicking open the main doors. Behind him, Viago and Teia exchanged a glance as two other Talons unsheathed their blades. 

Cutting his fingertips on the Crow brooch upon his breast pocket, Illario drew a red haze of power between his palms, making Rook’s stomach roil with dread. 

“That could be arranged.”

Several Venatori stepped from the shadows, and the remaining Talons drew their swords. Rook quickly worked to assess who would side with them as she cut through a Venatori on her right. Teia and Viago were a given, and Bolivar, Sixth Talon, usually sided with the Dellamortes, but tonight, it was impossible to tell: Which Dellamorte did he consider the true heir? Could any of the Crows in this room trust a Dellamorte after this?

“Yield!” Illario commanded, summoning his reserves of blood magic. 

“You can’t…overpower…us both!” Lucanis gritted out, Spite’s wings unfurling behind him. The crowd gasped collectively, and Illario’s smug expression wavered.

“Now you fall.” Spite and Lucanis snarled in unison. 

“You should have stayed dead, cousin! All of this is on your head!” Illario roared as he unsheathed his blades, one clashing with Lucanis in an instant. 

“You started this, cousin.” Lucanis said with a cloying sweetness. “I’m ending it.”

A Venatori blade nearly hooked Lucanis from behind, and he turned to engage them. Rook pointed Davrin towards the rest of the incoming Venatori as she stepped between the Dellamorte cousins, not allowing Illario to get the upper hand. His face slackened as she swiped at his middle with the sword he’d gifted her so many years ago. 

“Keeping your grandmother locked in her room?” Rook demanded, dodging his half-hearted attempt at cutting her. “What is wrong with you?”

“It was for her own good.” He seized her by the wrist as her free hand attempted to drive a dagger into his ribs. “I would have never harmed her.”

“Damn it, Fiammetta!” Viago barked from across the room. “Do not let him get the upper hand!”

Rook ignored her cousin, freeing herself from Illario’s grasp with a flick of her wrist, just as her father had taught her. 

“Was poisoning me for my own good? Did you know I would have died without Viago’s intervention?”

“I never wanted to hurt you-”

“Or how about your alliance with Elgar’nan?” As she threw her blade at his face, Illario dodged, turning to watch it lodge itself in the wallpaper and rip a line through the ivory embellishments. “You know he wants me dead, right?” 

“Fi-”

She silenced him with a slap to the face. Illario’s hand came to his cheek, pressed against the red flushed skin there as he returned his gaze to her slowly, a lethal look in his eyes.

“You were one of my oldest friends.” She snarled, “I trusted you above so many others. And you lied to me. Betrayed me. And Lucanis! Your own blood . Your ambitions really know no bounds.”

Illario threw her against the wall, knocking the wind from her.

“What I did, I did for the Crows!” 

He pinned one hand above her head, the dagger in his other hand hovering over her neck. 

“You did it for yourself!” Rook shrieked. 

Just above Illario’s shoulder, she watched as Lucanis dispatched three Venatori, desperately trying to reach her. Illario followed her gaze and, with a cry of frustration, thrust Rook ahead of him, blade pressed to her throat. 

“Stop!” He shouted, wrapping an arm across her torso and walking her to the center of the room, as if she were a human shield.

Lucanis threw aside the final mage he’d been fighting just as Viago leapt from the Opera stage. The two met them under the grand chandelier, weapons drawn, while Davrin checked over his shoulder as he and Assan continued pushing back the remaining Venatori.

“You don’t want to make an enemy of me, Illario.” Viago advised, circling them. “Let my cousin go. Don’t do something you can’t take back.” 

“You decide what happens next!” Illario warned, his blade digging further into Rook’s skin. 

“You think you’re in too deep, Illario,” Rook murmured as she felt a single bead of blood run down her neck. “But you can still fix this.”

“Stop talking, Fiammetta.” He hissed, but his hold relaxed, giving her room to breathe. 

“What’s your endgame here?” Rook asked him, “Because Lucanis doesn’t want to kill you, but Spite will. This little standoff only lasts as long as I’m alive. Harm me, and it’s all over for you.”

“Maybe that’s your problem, Fi. You’re on a first name basis with my cousin’s demon.”

“I tried playing nice.” Rook said, slipping one hand through the crook of his elbow and wrapping her fingers around his knife. An electric current danced up to the hilt, causing Illario to flinch, and his grip on her to falter. Blood stained her palm as he recoiled, inadvertently slicing open the skin where she held his blade. Illario shoved her forward to break the static that surrounded them, and Rook tumbled to the floor, leaving a trail of crimson handprints as she scrambled backwards. Viago bent and pulled her up, fingertips digging into her shoulders as he restrained her, keeping her from intervening.

Lucanis approached his cousin, pointing the tip of his sword at his heart.

“I’ll kill you for that.” He growled.

Illario scowled, clutching his chest as he fought to steady his pulse, falling to his knees. 

“So I’ve heard.” He said through clenched teeth, “What are you waiting for, cousin? Finish what you start.” 

Spite’s wings disappeared behind Lucanis as he sheathed his weapon with a look of contempt. He gestured to the Crows leaning over the balcony with bated breath, the Talons standing with disappointed expressions behind him. 

“I already did. What am I ever going to do that is worse than this? On your knees? In front of every house?”

Illario stared at the crowd, jeering and booing from above. Hope and malice faded from his features, replaced by the sting of humiliation. 

“Get up, Illario.” Caterina commanded, her cane falling on the floor with a resounding knock between each step as she entered the room.

“Caterina!” Teia cried, “Thank the Maker!”

Viago released his hold on Rook, yanking Illario to his feet as the First Talon stood over her grandson, disgusted. Both hands poised atop her cane, the bejeweled eyes of the carved Crow head beneath her fingertips stared directly at Lucanis. 

“No one from House Dellamorte kneels.”

Rook felt a pang of empathy for her old friend. He looked like a boy again, scolded for playing in the gardens too roughly. Proven inferior to his cousin, once again. 

“He’s your family.” Rook moved to Lucanis’ side, resting a hand on his arm. “You said he was all you had, besides Caterina…”

“That was before you.”

Lucanis drug a hand over his face and sighed.

“But you’re right. He’s family.”

Illario scoffed.

“You think you can show me mercy? That’s not up to you, is it? Caterina is still First Talon.”

“Enough, Illario! Lucanis is the new First Talon.” Caterina announced over a roar of cheering from above. “His decision stands.”

Both Dellamorte cousins’ faces fell in unison. Whether or not Caterina intended for it to be, Illario’s loss was a punishment for each of them. What one desired most in the world, the other desperately had tried to run from. 

Lucanis schooled his expression into something focused, commandeering, void of the remorse and aching etched there moments ago.  

“Viago. Keep him out of trouble.” He directed.

“I’m no miracle worker,” The Fifth Talon said, tugging Illario aside, “but I’ll see what I can do.”

Illario leaned towards his cousin as he was escorted from the premises.

“Lucanis…” he taunted, holding out each syllable.

“Don’t.” Lucanis voice was hard and clipped. “Not now.” 

Caterina walked slowly to a nearby table, picking up a goblet of wine and passing it to her grandson. Reluctantly, he stared at it in his hand, panic flickering across his face as he lifted his head to meet Rook’s stare. Before she could react, a glass of wine was shoved into her own hands, and Teia began making a toast. Rook’s ears rang as she watched Lucanis swirl his drink, lost in his thoughts.

“To Lucanis!” Davrin called out with a proud smile. Well-intentioned as their friend was, something about the way everyone raised their glasses, the way Lucanis brought his wine to his lips like a death sentence, made her want to choke. She mimicked a drink, and discarded her goblet, watching from the perimeter of the room as Lucanis was congratulated by each Talon, save Viago, who was likely giving Illario a beating somewhere between here and the casino. 

Davrin joined her on the wall, wine in hand and Assan at his heels. 

“I thought you’d be happier for him.” He nudged her with his shoulder. “Does this make you Queen of the Crows or something?”

“This isn’t what he wants.” Rook whispered, voice catching in her throat as she watched Lucanis smile and nod in a sea of congratulations.

All those years of Crow training, just to feign happiness.

“In that case, try not to be offended if I don’t stick around to celebrate. Those Venatori landed a few good blows on me and I’m ready for a hot salt bath.”

Rook nodded and gave an appreciative, thin-lipped smile as her friend disappeared. In silence, she observed the party from afar until she was interrupted by a scraping sound against the marble floor beside her. 

“Dellamortes, get all the praise.” Caterina muttered, tapping Rook’s shin with her cane. “Come. Walk with me.”

Suggestions were never optional with Caterina, and knowing better than to decline, Rook uneasily followed her out the patio doors to the gardens. 

They strolled past the rose bushes and sat on a stone bench under a willow that was not native to this area of Treviso, but that Caterina had insisted to have imported decades ago. Rook had to admit it was thriving here. 

“Do you recognize this opal?” Caterina asked, slipping off her ring. Rook took it gingerly between her thumb and forefinger, letting its iridescence catch in the moonlight.

“It’s the same gem Lucanis stole and gifted to me when we were children.” She smiled softly, her breath rising in the fog as she spoke. “I still remember the look on my father’s face when you came to our door.”

Rook passed the ring back to Caterina, and she held up her hand to decline, shaking her head.

“Keep it. I’ve outgrown it.” She said firmly. “Consider it a token of my appreciation for saving my grandson, and myself.”

“Caterina! I can’t possibly accept this.”

“You would insult your First Talon by declining a gesture of her gratitude?”

“To be fair, you just gave that title to Lucanis.” Rook knew she was in dangerous territory, but felt bold enough to test the waters. Riling Caterina was a risk, but one with an amusing payoff.

“Precisely. I gave him a title. He knows I won’t retire until long after he buries me.” 

Rook carefully slipped the opal over the ring finger on her right hand. So strange how it found its way back to her, given the circumstances.

“Maybe I was too soft on Illario. I stoked the fires of his resentment by favoring Lucanis to take my place. But I knew Illario would never be cut out for Talon. He was prone to fits when he didn’t get his way and spent too much time fretting about what was fair or unfair. In the Crows, there is no such thing as fair.”

Caterina lifted her head towards the stars and frowned, as if they shared her disapproval.

“From a young age, Lucanis always saw the world for what it was. He would cry for dead birds in the garden, and then wipe his tears and bury them under this willow tree, because he knew it needed to be done. He has an impeccable talent for leaving no job unfinished, even when no one is watching. His internal compass is strong, where Illario’s is easily led astray.”

Rook remained silent. It was rare that Caterina was talkative, and rarer that she showed even a glimmer of regret.

“I was hard on Lucanis, focused my lessons on him because I needed him to have what it took to survive. Being First Talon doesn’t just make you a target, it makes the people you love targets. Lucanis showed exceptional talent and caught the attention of the other Crows even as a boy. Whether or not he wanted my title, I needed to ensure he’d survive long enough to turn it down.”

Uncertain Caterina would let her live to regret it, Rook spoke anyway. 

“You hardly gave Lucanis an opportunity to say no, announcing his change in rank before every Crow in Treviso.”

Surprisingly, Caterina’s cane remained firmly planted on the garden cobblestones.

“Sometimes we are burdened with things not because we desire them, but because we are the best person for the job. Lucanis will make a good First Talon precisely because he does not want it.”

“You knew?”

“I knew. Illario was talented in charming people, but being skilled in manipulating others put him at risk of being manipulated himself. My grandson could change his colors to suit whatever person or situation he needed them to, because his own identity was so unstable. Lucanis is who he is. He’s a lethal assassin, and an excellent Crow, but he cannot resist doing what he believes is right.” 

Rook blinked, certain she’d been poisoned when Illario’s blade nicked her throat, and that she was hallucinating this entire exchange. 

“I will not insult you by telling you your parents would be proud of you, Fiammetta. I think you already know that. And we both know it’s not their approval you desire.” Caterina continued, “You are like Lucanis in many ways. You did what you felt was right, and when you made a bad call, you accepted your punishment with your head held high. You never complained. You paid your debts, and you moved on. You accepted the role of leader against gods, because it needed to be done. Your cousin believed you were neglecting your responsibilities, abandoning your family, but wherever your battles lead you, you will always embody the spirit of a Crow.”

She rose to her feet and nodded towards the manor. 

“Come. My grandson is spying. I think he’s worried I’ve brought you out here to kill you.” 

Rook glanced towards the Opera House, where Lucanis was brooding against a foggy window pane, hands buried into his pockets.

“The guest room is as you left it. Several of the gowns in the closet belonged to my daughter-in-law. She was about your size. We might be assassins, but there’s no reason to be covered in blood at a party.” She said with a wink. “Rest assured, she fitted all her clothing to be suitable for an ambush. You’ll be at no disadvantage.”

─── ⊹⊱♤⊰⊹ ───

Rook assessed the opera house floor as she descended the staircase, dressed in a sleeveless black gown that took her nearly half an hour to lace herself into. Caterina wasn’t joking - the dress fit her like a second skin, and she could kill someone in this ensemble just as easily as she could in her leathers. The trouble would lie in getting it off. Wearing heels, against her better judgement, Rook decided to allow herself the enjoyment of one last Dellamorte soiree.

A dense crowd surrounded Caterina, Teia close to her side. Even though former First Talon had opted for the party to continue despite the disgrace her grandson had made of himself, everyone present was on edge. Repairing the distrust between Houses would take time, but at least the First, Fifth and Seventh Talons still had faith in one another. And, at the end of the day, Crows never really trusted one another.

“There you are.” 

At the sound of a familiar voice, Rook’s footstep faltered on the final stair, and she caught herself on the guardrail as a hand slipped around her waist.

“I’ve been looking for you.” 

[thewardenisonthecase]

Early Morning

Lucanis Dellamorte x Grey Warden!Rook

Part two of Rest Easy

Read on AO3

Summary: The one in which everyone knows.

A/N: Small bonus chapter.

Bellara had woken up quite early, even if she had gone to sleep late, staying awake most of the night reading her serials. 

The downside of that was that her mind was quite foggy in the morning, and considering she had a full day ahead of her, she needed to clear her head. 

And what better way, she thought, than a nice cup of coffee. 

Slowly, she made her way to the kitchen. Lucanis never slept, which meant he would probably have some spare coffee to give her. Or maybe even brew a new one for her, as he often did. 

However, when Bellara entered the kitchen, she was surprised to see Lucanis wasn’t there. She called out his name but received no reply. 

Had by some miracle Lucanis slept through the night? Or worse, had Spite escaped with him? What if he was lost somewhere? 

Thoughts like these began to infiltrate Bellara’s mind when she heard snoring coming from the pantry. Instinctively, she decided to go check in there. Although it probably meant that Lucanis was asleep, she just wanted to make sure her friend was doing alright (and to reassure her anxious mind). 

She quietly opened a bit of the door, enough to take a peak, and as soon as she did, she had to stop herself from gasping. 

Lucanis was asleep…and on top of him was Rook. They were holding each other quite strongly, like one would grab a pillow when dreaming, not wanting to let go. 

Bellara couldn’t help but think this was just like her romance novels. For some time, she had noticed how Lucanis and Rook had been spending more and more time together. The stolen glances, the sighs. One night, when Rook was more intoxicated than usual, she had even confessed to Bellara about having a crush on him, but thinking it wouldn’t lead anywhere. She felt the same as she did when she read those romance novels in which the couple took too long to get together, internally screaming ‘just kiss him’ whenever she saw the two of them around the Lighthouse making eyes at each other. 

Now, Bellara felt like she was reading the conclusion to the story, when  the protagonists finally admitted their love and spent the night together. 

‘Wait, no, don’t think about that about your friends, Bellara.’ She thought. ‘I should go before one of them wakes up.’ 

She carefully took a step back, closing the door with the utmost caution. She sighed in relief, until she heard a voice behind her. 

“Don’t think about what?” Harding had asked. 

“Oh, Lace! I-I didn’t see you there.” Bellara said nervously, realizing she had spoken out loud.  “What are you doing here, it’s so early.” 

Harding raised a brow. “This is the time I usually wake up to drink coffee.” She pointed towards the door. “Is Lucanis inside, I need-”

“No!” Bellara shouted, barring the door. “I mean, uh, he can’t do coffee right now.” 

At that moment, Neve walked into the kitchen, having heard what Bellara said. 

“Why? Is he sick?” She crossed her arms. “And why are you standing like that over the door?” 

Bellara began to sweat in panic. “No, he’s just…he well, uhm, he asked me, to-to not let anyone in. He didn’t want to be bothered this early.” 

“Truly?” Neve said, a brow raised in disbelief. “I remember Lucanis usually being very awake at this hour.” 

“Well, he-he told me he wanted to sleep in today.” 

Harding’s eyes widened. “This truly is the weirdest time to be alive.” 

Neve gave Bellara a sympathetic look. “Look, Bel, you’re a great friend, so I say this with no malice. You’re a terrible liar.” 

Bellara sighed. 

“Why are we hanging out in the kitchen?” Taash said, as they too entered. 

“We, uh,-” 

“Bellara, dear, is everything alright there? You seem quite distressed.” Emmrich asked her, having followed behind Taash. 

“Professor! Everything’s good, I just-”

“Has anyone seen Rook?” Finally, Davrin walked in and Bellara lost it. 

“THEY’RE IN THE PANTRY!” Bellara shouted. “Lucanis and Rook are sleeping in the pantry!” 

Silence befell the kitchen as everyone stared at Bellara. 

“What?!” Davrin asked in disbelief.

“Oh my…” Emmrich covered his mouth with his hand. 

“So that’s why you were acting weird.” Neve said

“When you say sleeping…”  Taash began “do you mean-”

“Like Rook on top of Lucanis. The two holding each other like teddy bears.” Bellara said hurriedly. 

“They were definitely doing it.” 

“Taash!” Harding reprimanded. “Not everything is sex.”

“But it sounds like it!” They defended themselves. “I mean-”

Before they could continue, the door to the pantry swung open, and an angry Rook looked at all of them.

“Can you all keep it quiet?! Some of us are trying to sleep.” 

The door to the pantry closed with a bang, and the sound of a key being turned was heard as all hell broke loose in the kitchen. 

Rook sighed, turning to Lucanis, who had a tired smile on his lips. “I think they all know about us now.” 

“It was bound to happen.” 

She flicked her wrist, casting a silencing spell on the door, to cut off the noise of the banging and shouting from the other side. She walked towards him, sitting on the bed. “You do know that means they’ll talk, right?” 

He shrugged. “Let them. As long as I have you with me, I do not mind.” 

Rook smirked. “Charmer.” She gave him a small and quick peck on his cheek before saying. “Now lay down again. I have a week’s worth of sleep to make up.”

He chuckled, resuming the position they were in. “As you wish.”

[kikuwaters]

Morning and night aren’t really a thing at the lighthouse. The Fade exists both nowhere and everywhere at once, which makes it all the worse when Lucanis can’t tell if it’s dawn or dusk. Not that it mattered. Not when he wakes with a terrible ache in ways that weren't entirely physical. He doesn’t need to guess; Spite was out again.  

A faint sound pulls his attention, and he turns his head toward it. He freezes, holding his breath when his eyes fall on DK. Of course... he begins to think, disgust twisting his lip at the sight of the necromancer by his coffee pot. He begins to dismiss him, to look away, but something gives him pause. His brows furrow as he truly looks at DK for the first time that morning.  

DK stands with his back to him, head tilted slightly as though lost in thought. His gaze is fixed on a spot beyond the room itself, looking at nothing at all really. His posture, normally easy and self-assured, is slouched, his shoulders drawn in as though under some immense, invisible weight.

His long white fingers move with surprising care, tenderly placing the Antivan grounds into a cloth for the drip. Lucanis’s eyes trace the dull red tattoos trailing up DK’s arms, crawling all the way up under his neck and onto his chin.

But it’s his face that holds Lucanis in place.  

The sharp, teasing lines of DK’s usual smirk were gone, replaced by something hollow and unguarded. His expression holds no trace of his playful demeanor. His hands work the coffee drip, but his normally bright green eyes stare through it, appearing dulled and unfocused. Dark circles are carved under his eyes, hollowing out his features and making him appear hauntingly like the dead he so often communicates with.

Lucanis swallows hard, any sharp comment dying in his throat. The sight unsettles him in ways he can’t explain, and for a fleeting moment, he considers pretending he hasn’t seen this stripped version of DK at all. But before he can stop himself, the words slip out. 

“...DK?”  

His voice is soft and hesitant, breaking the stillness of the room like a child at his parents door at night. 

DK startles at the sound, his gaze returning back to the room and towards Lucanis. His eyes lock onto him, sharp and startling—and in an instant, the playful mask is back. That hollow expression vanishes, replaced by DK’s familiar, infuriating smile.  

“My apologies, Lucanis!” DK purrs, turning back to the coffee drip with ease. “Usually you’re asleep for a little while longer after Spite leaves.”

Lucanis licks his dry lips, struggling to gather a coherent thought from the many swirling about in his head. “What.. are you doing..” he finally manages, clumsy and unsure

“Oh, just starting your coffee,” DK replies casually, as if this was the most normal thing in the world for them. He turns toward the door, denying Lucanis any chance to comment on that further. “Rest up, now. I'll see you later!” 

DK’s tone is light, almost teasing, but as he reaches the doorway, Lucanis catches it again. The smile drops. The light leaves his face. For a fleeting moment, DK looked exactly as he had before Lucanis spoke. Empty.. Worn down to something raw and unrecognizable.  

Lucanis stares after him, his chest tightening inexplicably. He can’t explain why, but that expression, that absence of the man’s usual laugh, is what makes him, for the first time ever, want to ask DK to stay.  

He simply watches instead as the door clicks shut, the room falling silent once more.

[rin-hanarin]

A quick little thing I wrote based on a prompt from this post.

"A letter from your OC to their love interest", featuring post-Veilguard Renzo de Riva writing to Lucanis after discovering that he can just write whatever he wants on paper, even the things he can't say out loud.

Spoilers for everything.

“Lucanis!

I'm sure you're as surprised to receive a letter from me as Viago would be surprised to learn that I can write at all. Before you panic: I'm fine, it's not a goodbye letter, or a break-up letter, or a last will. I'm alive and as well as I can be without you making me food… which is probably not that great and I'm making you worry even more, but I'm fine.

Anyway, I knew you were gonna be busy as First Talon, and you probably knew that our services would be needed again after The Butcher's death, but this is terrible. It's just contract after contract with more work sprinkled on top, when I'm not busy you inevitably are, and Teia told me you've kept asking about me every time I was away, too. She also advised me to write a letter because apparently I “look like a kicked puppy without Lucanis around, so might as well try some good old correspondence”, which is not true, by the way! The puppy part! But… yeah, I miss you.

I know I'm terrible at letting you know, and, to be honest, sometimes I'm worried that you'll just give up on me with my jokes one of these days, especially when we don't even see each other for weeks. But I miss you. I keep wondering what you're up to. Are you doing well? Are you sleeping well, if at all? How many people did Spite scare the soul out of with his sleepwalking? Is he bothering you much? Does Spite miss me, and how annoying is it to deal with? Have you managed to find any good coffee out there, or any time to enjoy it at all? What contracts do you even accept to be this busy? We're not exactly privy to the “Dellamorte Business” here in House de Riva, or maybe I'm the only one clueless, as usual. I'm sure you don't need to do everything alone, but Viago wouldn't let me join you, either on principle, or… because you asked him not to to keep me safe, and he's all too happy to suddenly be very obedient with the new First Talon? You know I'm more reckless without anyone looking after me, right? Without you stopping me from doing things I might regret?

I'm joking again, by the way, and I'm trying to do better on my own. Just wish I didn't have to go solo again, work or otherwise. Not to be completely soppy, but I think I miss waking up to the smell of your cooking. My hair doesn't smell like coffee anymore and it makes me sad for some reason. I miss you being the first person I see in the morning, now I just have to stare at Viago's sour face as he gives me more work instead of telling me when you're supposed to come back, and I kind of hate it sometimes. Teia takes me out for drinks when I pass through the Diamond, and I think she pities me and I don't get it.

Can you tell this is all very new to me? I don't like this one bit, but I think I also do. I hate thinking about you all the time and waiting for every barely even a kiss when you pass me in some hallway before disappearing again. I hate how excited I am to receive one and how dependent I am on your presence to feel satisfied with anything now. I hate it, I love it. I love you. There, take that. No promises, but if you drop one of your contracts and come home, I might even say that to your face.

This is getting weird and I may or may not be getting misty-eyed writing this, but I'm waiting, Lucanis.

Hopefully still yours,

Renzo de Riva.”

[underatreedrinkingtea]

Something Golden, Something Glistening

Chapter Summary: Lucanis, Rook and Spite spends some time together in the quite, early morning. There is some light flirting and teasing involved. Rook/Lucanis/Spite

Hello again! I enjoyed writing these idiots so much and think I will add more chapters to this. Might just be small snippets in their down time when they are not running around saving the world. Im not quite confident enough writing fight scenes and following the main story and what not. We shall see what direction this takes! Again, english is not my first language so if you see any mistakes I will do my best to correct them. Enjoy! Added a picture of my Rook if you wanted to know how I visualise her.

Chapter 2

The first thing he notices when he wakes up is that he feels...well rested. His mind is clear, sharp. Then suddenly sits up and panics, how long has he been asleep? Did Spite try anything while he was out? Did he hurt anybody?

“Mmh. Why would I? I can behave!” Spite appears before him and smirks. Lucanis regards him for a second, he sounds sincere, at least as sincere a demon can be. But Lucanis does not trust him, he knows Spite. And Spite has never given him a break before so why is this time any different. He always makes Lucanis' life more difficult in some way when he falls asleep.

“Spite, you always misbehave. Tell me what you did. How long were you up causing trouble last night?” Lucanis asks. The demon gives him a long look, and seems to think before he answers.

“Sleep well?” He asks with a small knowing smile. Like he is in on some kind of joke. Lucanis shakes his head and begins to demand an answer from Spite when he hears the kitchens open. Somebody is here for breakfast then. He needs coffee before he can handle Spite in a productive way anyhow. Lucanis begins to move towards the door when Spite suddenly inhales and exclaims;

“Smells like vanilla, old books and candles. Rook!” He sounds way too excited and Lucanis doesn’t like it one bit. ‘Mierda.’ He still wants that coffee. 

When he enters the kitchen and makes his way to the small kitchenette with the coffee pot and cups Rook is already there, making herself something to drink. When she hears him entering she turns around to greet him with a big smile. There’s several books on the table along with some paper and ink, no doubt belonging to Rook.

“Good morning, Lucanis! I see you slept in today, good for you.” She says in a cheerful manner. His eyes widened, oh did he really sleep that long? ‘Damn’ Rook sees his panicked expression and gives a breathy chuckle, shaking her head. 

“I’m only joking Lucanis. Don’t worry, it's still very early. We are the only ones awake actually. You are way too easy of a target not to.” Rook is smiling even bigger now, cloudy eyes radiant. And he is a fool

“Hah! Rook is fun! Lucanis. Believes. Anything. Rook tells him!” Spite is having way too much fun and he is sick of it. He does not feel well rested anymore. ‘Damned demon.’ Lucanis looks his way and gives him a hard stare and thinks ‘Spite, enough. Let me have some peace and quiet.’

‘Will you. Beg?’ Spite now wears a wicked grin on his face. If it was possible to somehow punch a demon, he would find a way. Spite’s grin grows and begins to make gestures as if he got hit.

“Spite please. It’s not nice to tease before a man has had at least 2 cups of coffee!” Rook looks between the two now, and compared to Spite, a soft welcome expression on her face. “And one needs a full stomach to handle..your bite.” She teases back with a sparkle in her eyes.

Spite drops his smirk and looks to Rook. One could say he almost looked like a disciplined pet. Shocked, Spite is shocked and doesn’t know what to answer. 

“But!” He looks to Lucanis and then back at Rook “You just did! Ugh, you tease him!” Spite lets out a frustrated huff. She gives him a pointed look and after a moment he is gone. Lucanis feels a tight knot in his stomach, hot and flustered. No doubt this is Spite, and tries to shake it off. This just leaves the two of them.‘Right, Rook can hear and see him." Lucanis thinks and clears his throat.

“I’m sorry about him. He is…extra annoying this morning.” Lucanis scratches his neck and looks down. 

“Oh no, that’s fine. I shouldn’t have encouraged him by teasing you…I.”

“I’m s-“ she starts off. 

“No it’s-“ he exclaims at the same time.

Rook lets out a quick laugh and clears her throat. “How about that breakfast now hmm?” She leans closer, smiling up at him. 

“Yes, let me get it started.” Lucanis turns quickly and begins to prepare for the meal. He needs something to do with his hands and get out of this awkward situation as soon as possible. Lucanis makes his way to the pantry to get eggs, bacon, bread and fresh fruit. He spares a quick look in Rook’s direction and her expression is..unsure and one of disappointment. She’s fidgeting with her books, looking for something to occupy herself with

‘Let her help! Don’t ignore her! Rook wants to talk. With us!’ Spite bursts out in his head, scolding him. Lucanis hates to admit it but Spite is right, and he wants to spend time with Rook as well, she is a breath of fresh air. He has never really gotten close with many people before. But with her, with this team…it feels like it could grow to be one of the good things in his life. He should cherish this, see where it goes. The complicated feelings he has for Illario and Caterina, the love he has for them is unshakable and mighty. But being shackled and caged for a year by Zara has left both Spite and himself split open, full of torment, with jagged edges ready to maim. Now more than ever before. He pushes those thoughts away for now.

“Can I trust you with cutting the fruit Rook?” Lucanis offers in a soft tone. He feels Spite’s approval.

Rook shuts her book at the sound of his voice, meeting his eyes she gasps;

 “The famous assassin is giving me a knife?! Is it because it’s the dullest blade that you’re trusting me with it?” She blurts out in jest. It seems Rook is quick on her feet with her playful jabs. And Lucanis finds himself enjoying this side of her, basking in her attention. Surrendering into this feeling. 

‘Go on..’ he hears Spite softly muttering, hopeful. Lucanis flexed his hands and went to pinch the bridge of his nose. With a quick breathy laugh he said to her;

“Yes, I fear the fruit has a gruesome fate waiting for them. But don’t worry, I’m extremely skilled in cleaning up a crime scene. The others will not know a thing.” The amusement clear in his tone. ‘You do know how to be fun.’ Lucanis ignores him, full focus on Rook now. She looks away from his gaze and shifts down at the floor, pulling at her fingers. He makes out rosy cheeks growing ever so slightly redder. He catches himself thinking he likes that colour on them. ‘Taste like joy, lightning in the stomach, honey and passion. Delicious. Pretty Rook.’ Spite voices in his head. Now Lucanis' cheeks start to feel warm. He wants to ignore him and the tingling butterflies within him. But he agrees with Spite because she is radiant, like an angel. He snaps back to reality by the sound of her laugh.

“Well I’m in the mood to murder some oranges this lovely morning, are there any left since you and Bellara went to the market? How about some cheese too?” 

“Cheese and oranges? You mean to have that for…breakfast?” Lucanis asks bewildered. Bellara warned him about Harding’s eating habits, but nothing about Rooks. 

“When I woke up today it just felt like an oranges and cheese kind of day you know?” She answers like she didn't just tell him the most ridiculous breakfast combination ever. Now Spite decides to chime in cheerfully. ‘I agree with Rook. Feels like cheese and oranges. Today!’ ‘Of course you do, you exist to torment me.’ He feels Spite’s amusement before he gets a reply;

‘Now there is one more!’ 

They work in comfortable silence for a while before Rook drops what she's doing and cries out;

“Oh, I forgot about my tea! I need to try that new one Harding grew in her garden for me.” Chair screeches against the stone floor followed by hurried steps towards the kitchenette. The knife in Lucanis hand stills and he feels like choking on his tongue. The tea is for her. Spite brings him back to the present by adding ‘She wants honey! In her tea.’ 

[girlwithadragonheart]

Chapter 3 - Kalais "Rook" Mercar

This story contains major spoilers for Dragon Age the Veilguard. Read at your own discretion!!

Rook x Lucanis

Summary: The First Warden completely disrespects Rook and an old friend stands up for her. Rook has a nightmare about her past, and Spite of all people comforts her when she wakes in a panic. It's awkward the next morning when the two wake up on top of each other.

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: Spoilers, cursing, mentions of death, mentions of sickness, implied torture, slavery

A/N: For the heaviness of this one I tried to counterbalance it with some light

Chapter 2 DATV Masterlist Chapter 4

The Shadow Dragons reached out to me and said they were having an issue with Blight and Darkspawn along with the Venatori. Neve and I decided to help, and Lucanis was always down to kill cultist bastards. We cleared the secret passage between the shop and the base, coming upon the shocking revelation that the Venatori and the darkspawn were working together somewhat. Or at the very least, not trying to kill each other.

This was problematic at best, and a catastrophe at worst. If the Gods control the Blight, then they control the Darkspawn, and if the Darkspawn don’t attack the Venatori, then the Venatori follow the gods, and it’s all this big confusing loop of a hierarchy that just means we have more bad guys to kill.

When that was finished, Tarquin thanked us and said he was glad I was back. I didn’t realize I had been so sorely missed.

Our next step was to meet with the First Warden at the Cobbled Swan. The Grey Wardens were the most effective tool against the Blight, so we would be needing their help before this was all said and done.

When we entered and I approached, a dark skinned, bald headed man put his hands on his hips. “I am Jowin Glastrum, First Warden and Supreme Commander of Weisshaupt. I received word of your team’s request for Grey Warden assistance after an incursion of the blight at D’Meta’s Crossing. You’re a Shadow Dragon, I hear. A criminal organization of Tevinter insurgents. I was not surprised to learn that you are wanted for numerous offenses, including theft, murder, and wanton destruction of property.”

“Did you also hear that the Shadow Dragons saved me from slavery?” I crossed my arms, tilting my head. “Or that I got those offenses by wrecking a slavery ring? Theft? You mean rescuing enslaved people. Murder? You mean the Venatory cultists who enslaved those people,” I glared.

“And destruction of property?” He questioned.

“Just felt like it,” I shrugged.

“Fine. All I want to know is how a Minrathous crook unleashed the blight.” His words? Condescending. His tone? Even more so.

I took a deep breath. “We’ve been tracking a mage named Solas. He’s actually several thousand years old. In elven mythology, he’s known as Fen’Harel, the Dread Wolf, god of lies.”

“That is a number of titles.”

“Well, Fen’harel is elven for Dread Wolf, so that only counts as one. But yeah, you’re not wrong,” I explained. “Anyway, he wanted to tear down the Veil and restore the ancient elven empire. We stopped his ritual.”

“I did not come here to listen to fairy tales. I am here because of the Blight,” he said adamantly.

“Right, but it all ties together! See, when we disrupted the ritual, Solas got trapped in the Fade. But two of the elven gods got out. Elgar’nan and Ghilan’nain, we think. And they’re blighted,” I told him.

“Why would elven gods be blighted?” He said skeptically.

“The ancient elven gods used the blight. That’s why Solas imprisoned them. The point is that the gods are making the blight worse. D’Meta’s Crossing was just the start. That’s why we need the Grey Wardens,” I explained.

He tilted his head down to me condescendingly as he spoke with a hand on his hip. “I suspected more politicking from the remnants of the Inquisition. I see now that I was wrong.”

“I’m really glad to hear that.”

“It is clear that whatever you did to unleash the blight has corrupted your already weak mind.”

“Okay, wait…”

“You will be taken to Weisshaupt and placed under heavy guard until the danger you caused by unleashing the blight passes.”

My chest seized. “No, please, you can’t do that.” I felt Lucanis shift a step closer to me.

“I assure you, I can,” he said simply.

“I don’t know how much time we have! The gods are doing something with the blight—we need to stop them!” I pleaded.

“Let me tell you something about the blight. It is evil, it is implacable, and above all, it is predictable. The blight has not changed in over a thousand years. The Grey Wardens will defeat it, as they always do. And we will do so without you causing confusion with your deranged conspiracy theories. I suggest you come along quickly.”

I saw the hardness of his eyes, and I knew he would not be assuaged. I took an instinctive step back, bumping Lucanis’s shoulder.

“Adamant Fortress. 9:41 Dragon.” My head whipped around, seeing a familiar face to accompany the friendly voice. Well, friendly to me. “The Grey Wardens attempted to raise an army of demons. Hardly the models of good judgment yourselves, are you?”

“Dorian,” I smiled at him. “It’s good to see you.”

He bowed to me. “And you as well, Kalais. You’re looking well.”

The First Warden cleared his throat. “Everyone knows Warden-Commander Clarel acted alone at Adamant Fortress.”

“Acted alone, you say? Imagine if everyone were to see the letter I discovered where you authorize her actions. I wonder how that might complicate the narrative.” He popped a hip, resting his fist on it.

“Are you prepared to risk the security of the Grey Wardens for this deluded girl?” He questioned.

“You may be surprised to learn that I care very little about the security of the Grey Wardens,” Dorian argued.

The First Warden was silent for a moment, staring down his nose at the two of us. “Stay away from the blight, and do not pester the Grey Wardens with any more of your nonsense.” With one final, pointed glance at Dorian, he left.

Dorian turned to me with a pout. “He seems upset. Was it something I said?”

I grinned. “Your timing is impeccable.”

“A flawless entrance, I’d say.”

“Thanks for the rescue. I don’t think I could’ve survived a Grey Warden prison,” I told him.

“A mutual friend thought you might require some support.”

“Maevaris Tilani? Of the Shadow Dragons?” I asked.

“The very same,” He smiled.

“I think we made an enemy of the First Warden today. Well, more you than me. He just thinks I’m a dangerous idiot.”

He laughed sharply. “Enemy. I’ve ignored greater men. No Grey Warden worth the name sits in a Minrathous lounge, sipping wine. You need the Wardens? Look for the ones out there fighting the Blight. In the meantime, the Shadow Dragons will keep a close watch on the Venatori. Good luck. I’m sure we’ll see each other again soon.” He stopped to look over his shoulder at me. “Oh, and Kalais. Dangerous you might be, but you’re no idiot. Get out there and show him just how dangerous you can be.”

“You know I will,” I grinned.

“Good,” he said. “Though, do try not to get yourself killed,” he shot back as he left.

“You know Magister Pavus?” Neve asked.

“I do. It’s complicated, and I’d rather not get into it right now. He’s an… old friend, you could say.”

“Old. Lover!” Spite hissed between Lucanis’ teeth.

I blinked before I burst out laughing. “That man is fruitier than a basket of peaches! He is not an old lover.”

Neve snorted, and Lucanis just shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. I didn’t know what kind of argument he was having with Spite in his head.

“Let’s get back to the Lighthouse.”

—-------------------------------------------

I opened the double doors to the Infirmary and Varric looked up at me. “There you are! I haven’t seen much of you lately, and I was getting worried. Everything all right?” He asked. “Wait… that dagger. I’ve seen it before.”

“Solas was using it at the ritual site,” I said. It’s the dagger that stabbed you, of course it looks familiar.

“No, before that. Shit. It can’t be. Look at it, Rook!”

“I’ve been fidgeting with this thing since I picked it up, Varric. I know what it looks like.”

“Remember that story I told you about me and Hawke, Meredith and Orsino? How the trouble started in Kirkwall? On our expedition to the Deep Roads… that’s what we found. That’s what my brother tried to kill us for. An idol made of red lyrium. That sang a song which drove anyone who heard it mad.”

“Are you sure it’s the same thing?” I asked.

“Look at it. It’s changed, but it’s the same size. Same rink at the top. Not to mention: It’s pure lyrium. No one, not even the dwarves in Orzammar, work pure lyrium like that. It’s too dangerous,” he told me.

“If that’s true, if this dagger is the red lyrium idol from your story… how did Solas cleanse it of the blight?” I questioned.

“I have no idea. I can’t believe you found it.”

I heard footsteps behind me, and I turned to see Harding. “Oh! Hey, Rook. I’m… not interrupting anything, am I?”

“No. You look more comfortable with your abilities. How are you?” I asked.

“Things are… weird, but I’m adjusting. I think. That’s not what I came in here for, though.”

“All right, Harding. What’s on your mind?” Varric asked.

“So… the Wardens. I know some. A married couple Varric and I met while we were tracking Solas,” she said.

“I’d almost forgotten about that. I really am getting too old for this shit,” Varric grumbled.

“You think they’ll talk to us? After the First Warden, and everything?” I asked.

“It’s worth a try?” She said. “I can write them and… hope.”

“Okay. Let’s see who’s in our corner,” I said with a smile. Harding nodded and left. I glanced at Varric. “I’ll let you rest.”

“Hey, kid,” he said before I could leave. I turned back to him, raising a brow. “Normally, my advice on befriending abominations would be, “Don’t”. In this case, just keep an eye on him.”

I felt my face flush, and I just bowed my head to him before leaving.

—---------------------------------------

My footsteps were soft as I made my way through the quiet corridors of the safe house, my mind still echoing with Dorian’s parting words. I’d barely seen Lucanis since the encounter with the First Warden, but the comforting smell of brewing coffee led me to the dimly lit kitchen.

Lucanis stood at the counter, carefully pouring hot water over coffee grounds. He looked up as I entered, a hint of surprise in his gaze, which softened almost instantly.

“Couldn’t sleep?” he asked, his voice gentle in the quiet space.

I offered him a tired smile. “It seems sleep and I are sworn enemies these days.”

Lucanis nodded knowingly and held up the mug in his hand. “Coffee?”

“Actually… Can you make me one of those choco-chico things?” 

His expression flickered with amusement. “The cioccolata calda. I should have guessed,” he murmured, turning to reach for a tin of cocoa powder. “I can made that happen.”

“Correct me all you like, I’m not sure it’s ever going to stick,” I laughed. I watched as he rolled his sleeves up, and I caught myself staring at his forearms, trailing over his shoulders and watching his muscled back as he worked.

We fell into a comfortable silence, the sound of the stove’s low flame filling the space between us. I watched his movements, taking in his quiet confidence, the precision of each gesture.

Once he handed me a warm mug, we leaned against the counter together, sipping in companionable silence. Finally, Lucanis turned to me, his eyes searching. “So… Kalais?” He raised a brow. “I had my suspicions, but I’m guessing Rook isn’t your real name.”

I laughed softly, staring down at the rich, dark liquid swirling in my cup. “No, it’s not. Kalais Mercar, that’s who I was—am, I suppose.” I glanced at him with a wry smile. “But Rook’s what Varric called me when we met, and it just stuck.”

The corners of Lucanis’s lips upturned slightly. “Why Rook?”

“I asked him that too, once. He said it was because I never stayed still for long. ‘Like a rook on a chessboard—always moving forward,’ he said. And… well, I liked it,” I explained. “I liked most that it came from him,” I shrugged.

Lucanis’s smile grew. “It suits you. A fitting name for a survivor.” His tone softened as he added, “And a strategist.”

I took another sip, letting the warmth seep through me. It was the first time in ages that I felt a little lighter in someone else’s presence, besides Varric. Lucanis’s gaze shifted, his eyes studying me intently.

“You said something to Neve. About Dorian,” he ventured, curiosity evident in his voice. “That it was… complicated?”

“You mean when Spite accused him of being my old lover?” I grinned, teasingly.

Lucanis pinched the bridge of his nose, “Mierda.”

I laughed, squeezing his shoulder lightly, “I’m messing with you.” He just shook his head. I stared off into the distance as though I was capable of seeing the past. “He bought me,” I said. “Dorian did. Me, and a group of others in our household. We were slaves for another house, but Dorian…” I took a steadying breath, recalling those brutal days. “He picked the most capable of us. Bought us, freed us. That’s how I met him—and how I met the Shadow Dragons. He introduced me to the organization.”

Lucanis listened, his eyes dark with understanding, but he stayed silent as I gathered my thoughts.

“It was the first time anyone had ever given me a choice, given me a chance. I barely knew how to breathe without fearing it would draw the wrong kind of attention, but he didn’t ask for anything. Didn’t want me to be anything other than… free.” I shrugged, trying to dislodge the weight of those memories. “The Shadow Dragons offered me a purpose. A way to help others trapped like I was. So I took it.”

The silence that settled between us now was a heavy one, but it was comfortable. There was no pity in his eyes, only a shared understanding, as if he could see something familiar in my story.

“Dorian was the first person to show me that sometimes, you don’t have to run from everyone who offers you a way out. It made it easier to trust Varric,” I finished, my voice quieter as I swirled my drink. “Dorian set me free, and Varric helped me grow.”

Lucanis’s fingers tapped gently against his mug as he spoke. “You’re more than that past, Rook. It shapes us, sure, but it doesn’t define everything,” he offered a small, sincere smile. “You’re not just fighting your past—you’re fighting for a future. And that… that takes courage.” 

He sipped his coffee with an appreciative hum. A soft laugh escaped me as I shook my head. “Coming from you, that means more than you know.”

Lucanis’s gaze held mine for a moment before he looked down, clearing his throat. “Well, someone has to keep you in line. You know, in case you get too reckless,” he smirked. After a moment of silence he looked up at me again, brown eyes soft. “Thank you for sharing that.”

“Of course, I—” I cut myself off, shaking my head. “If you ever need– If you ever want to talk about what you went through in the Ossuary…” My voice trailed off, leaving the offer unspoken.

Our eyes met, a quiet understanding passing between us, forged by shared struggles and a mutual respect that went beyond words. The world outside might have been crumbling, but here, in this quiet moment over coffee and hot chocolate, we were two souls finding a brief respite, a sense of connection that neither of us had anticipated.

—----------------------------------

The sunlight speckled the ground as it filtered through the leaves, casting its warm gaze upon me. I was no older than five again, running through the halls of the magister’s manor. Notes from the piano drifted to my pointed ears from down the hall, and my little feet led me to see who was playing.

It was the Lady of the house, her fingers moving deftly over the keys with grace and precision. I watched her with wide eyes, pushing the door open more, cringing as it creaked. Her head whipped around, but her gaze softened as she saw me.

She beckoned for me, holding her arms out invitingly. Her voice was the sweetest melody I’d ever heard. “Come, little star. Sit by me while I play.”

Carefully, I climbed up onto the bench, and she pulled me into her lap, placing her hands over mine on the keys. Slowly, she taught me what she was playing.

I looked up at her with a wide smile, and she grinned softly at me. “Never forget your beauty, my love,” she said.

In the same second those bright green eyes were looking at me, they blackened, spiderwebbed black veins running through her cheeks and consuming her. Her cheeks became gaunt and her eyes sunk in, dark circles forming beneath them. I screamed, trying to flee only for my back to hit a wall.

I was a teenager now, bringing notes to the magister. The Lady had passed when I was seven. I was too young to remember her name. 

“Your notes, Magister Imarius,” I set the books down on his desk, the room smelling like ink and parchment. 

He looked up, face always one of disgust when facing his disease-ridden slaves. Never mind that we took care of the house and him. I always believed he blamed me for his wife’s death. He never said it, but he never had to.

I felt the harsh tug on my scalp as he gripped me at the base of my hair, pulling me down to spit in my face. I saw the flash of a dagger in my peripheral vision, and then there was a pair of hands on my face, pulling me away.

I met Cole’s gaze, and he frowned. “This memory cannot have you any longer.”

—-------------------------------------

“Rook!” A hand on my shoulder shook me.

I sat straight up, chest heaving. Cold sweat dripped down my neck. I blinked, looking up into glowing purple eyes. “Spite?”

“You. Were dreaming.” Lucanis’s hand came up, a cold finger brushing my cheeks. I rubbed the other, feeling the wetness of my tears. “Why do you cry?” He questioned.

“Just a nightmare. I’m okay,” I smiled at him. “I guess Lucanis fell asleep? What were you doing?” I asked.

“Find. You.” He pointed at me. “Want. To talk.”

I took a shaky breath, the remnants of the dream still lingering like shadows at the edges of my mind. Spite’s eyes, cold and assessing as always, flickered with a strange intensity. He tilted his head, watching me with a kind of curiosity that felt almost… protective.

“Thank you, Spite,” I managed, my voice barely a whisper. The sensation of Imarius’s grip, the bite of his loathing, lingered, but I pushed it down, trying to focus on the present, on the here and now.

Spite’s gaze didn’t waver. “Dreams. Hurt you,” he stated bluntly, not with mockery but with a rare sincerity. “They pull you back.”

I exhaled, glancing away as my fingers twisted in my lap. “Yeah… sometimes they do,” she admitted. “It’s just… echoes of the past. They don’t mean anything. I’ve moved on.” Or I’m trying to at least.

Spite’s eyes narrowed, and he studied me as if he could see through the thin shield I was holding up. “No. You. Break free. But they cling. Rotten shadows.” He pointed a finger at my heart. “Memory can trap. Better to cut it out.”

My lip twitched, almost smiling at his bluntness. “And if I did, what would be left? Those memories… they’re part of me, whether I want them to be or not.”

Spite’s frown deepened, a faint flicker of frustration darkening his face. “No!” He hissed. “You are more than them,” he insisted. “Lucanis… he knows too.” He gestured vaguely, as if struggling with the limitations of this form. “If he won’t. Remind you. I will.”

His words hung in the air between us, and I felt something shift. There was a sense of grounding in his presence. His raw honesty cutting through the fog the nightmare had left behind. I gave him a small, weary nod. “I appreciate that, Lethallin.” I allowed myself a moment to steady myself. “Sometimes… sometimes you’re right. Don’t tell Lucanis I said that.”

His grin nearly split Lucanis’s face in half. “Yes. Good. Now, rest. No more dreams. I’ll be here.”

I managed a grateful smile, letting myself lean back against the cushioned chair in the dining room, reassured by the presence of this strange, fierce ally who’d appeared to guard me against the shadows of my own past.

—-----------------------------------------

I blinked awake slowly, my mind groggy, caught somewhere between lingering dreams and reality. As I shifted, something solid and warm pressed against my shoulder, and I froze. I could feel Lucanis’s steady, rhythmic breathing, his face so close I could see his dark lashes resting against his cheeks.

Oh no.

I was leaning against him, slumped in the worn sofa that sat in the corner of the dining hall. I felt heat rise in my cheeks, but when I shifted again, his eyes fluttered open, hazy and confused.

“Mierda,” he muttered, sitting up too quickly, their shoulders bumping in the process. He blinked, looking as flustered as I felt.

I opened my mouth, unsure of what to say. “Um… good morning?” I eventually managed, my voice barely over a whisper.

Lucanis’s gaze darted away, his hand rubbing the back of his neck as he mumbled. “Morning. I don’t– How did I get here?” He asked.

“Oh, I had a nightmare, and Spite found me and he wanted to, um… stay?” I twisted my fingers in my lap. “Didn’t mean to… you know…” I trailed off, glancing at him sidelong.

He sat there, cheeks tinged faintly pink, looking at the floor with the same embarrassment I was feeling. He nodded, shifting slightly so there was more space between us, his fingers tapping against his knee. “Of course. Couldn’t just leave you there after…” He trailed off, his hand making a vague gesture that could have meant anything but somehow explained everything.

We sat in silence, both of us searching for words we didn’t have. Finally, I laughed, a sound that came out more nervous than I intended. “Well, good to know you’re a decent pillow.”

He gave me a sidelong glance, a small smirk breaking through his embarrassment. “I’ll keep that in mind if you ever fall asleep in strange places again.” His eyes softened as he added, “Just don’t get used to it.”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t keep from grinning. “Oh, please, I’d hate to make it a habit.” I stood, brushing myself off, then hesitated. “But… Thanks, Lucanis. And Spite. Really.”

He looked at me, the last traces of awkwardness replaced by something that could be mistaken for warmth. “Anytime, Rook.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N: I hope you enjoyed! I know it's not as long, but I was itching to develop Kalais

Let me know if you want to be on the tag list!<3

[shouldaspunastory]

For @kiastirling and @dadrunkwriting

Emmrich Volkarin x Tobias Rook (SFW, pre-relationship, perceived one-sided pining) 491 words

-------------------------------------------------

It's quiet in the Lighthouse as Rook pads out into the shared living space on bare and silent feet, anxious dreams stirring them from sleep and spurring them to seek out some of their resident necromancer's homemade tea mixes to calm them. It began as a somewhat spiteful gesture to partake in. They and Solas sharing an accidental connection to one another, it had been amusing forcing Solas to experience things they were doing the ancient elf would have hated. But it's become something else now. A kind of ritual, grounding and soothing in a way Rook's not often known before.

Emmrich prepares the teas with care, the same attention to detail and thoughtfulness he brings to all things. There are teas tailored to each of his companion's various tastes, and several to specific needs or circumstances. A citrus blend for Lucanis, a floral one for Neve, An Elfroot and Lotus for healing from various cuts and poisons, an Elderflower and Crystal Grace for headache and inflammation... Were he not so entirely fascinated and committed to the dead, Emmrich might have made a more than decent run with an apothecary.

It's always better when they can share a kettle, of course, talking about his latest theories or their shared companions' latest antics. Rook can't seem to help but gravitate towards him, and, they realize, as they catch sight of a slumped form snoring softly on a nearby couch, book loosely clasped in one hand that dangles off the sofa, tonight seems to be no different.

Rook smiles fondly, changing course, crossing the room and gently taking the book before it falls from Emmrich's hand, marking the place and setting it down on the table beside them, before turning back to watch him for a moment. He looks so serene in sleep. Not that the necromancer cannot be in waking hours, but Rook isn't bold enough to make such a study of him then, too scared he'll notice, and they'll have made things awkward, or even untenable between them. They’re loathe to wake him, but surely if he sleeps out here all night his body will voice its complaints about it tomorrow. With utmost care the elf decides their course of action, grabbing and draping a blanket from the back of the sofa over him, before swiftly sliding their arms beneath the older man and lifting him up into their arms.

“Good morning,” Emmrich greets Rook cheerfully the following morning. “Ah, Manfred,” the necromancer smiles, beckoning for his skeletal assistant. “You know how much I appreciate you. Time got away from me last night, I’m afraid, but next time you may wake me. You needn’t trouble yourself carrying me to bed. I can’t imagine what a labor that must have been for you. ” Manfred looks puzzled, as much as one without muscles or skin is capable of doing so, at least, while Tobias smiles softly from behind their cup of tea.

[ode-to-fury]

In The Wake Of Saving The World

Ch.1: Saying Goodbye

Parings: Rook/Lucanis (established), Illario/Davrin (just you fucking wait) Neve/Rana (implied)

Summary: Davrin had made her a promise. Survive the gods, save the world, then go South to see the Dales together. He'd lived for it. Now they were free to go, but things always tended to get complicated when Rook was involved.

Lucanis woke up because of someone knocking at the door.

He came awake slowly, groggy, groaning. Uncharacteristic of him, really, but Maker’s blood, he had never been so tired in his life.

Rook was curled into his chest, a hand resting over his heart, the other curled up under her chin. She smelled of honey and lightning and the scented oils that Dorian kept in the washroom off this bedchamber, and Lucanis wished he could stay in this soft moment with her for the rest of eternity.

There was another knock at the door, and it smashed straight through his serenity.

It was a testament to how tired both of them were that Rook did not even stir. She kept breathing the slow, even breaths of sleep, usually the lightest sleeper in Thedas.

He was glad she had at least slept through the night. After the last fight at the Archon’s palace, she’d barely made it a few hours before the nightmares had started. Neither of them had gotten much sleep after that.

Smells like leather and spice, Spite said as he gently rose from the bed, careful not to wake Rook as he did so. Smells like hurts and regret.

Illario, then. It was useful, sometimes, to have Spite with him.

He quickly threw on a pair of trousers, deciding the ones he had discarded on the floor the night before would be too wrinkled for his cousin’s tastes. The last thing he wanted was Illario making fun of him for how he dressed.

He grinned, though, because the trousers were on the floor in the first place because of Rook. Because he had found someone who hated large parties as much as he did. Who would slip away and sip wine in the bath with him instead.

“Cousin,” Illario greeted him with a suave grin as he opened the door, and it was too early in the morning for him to be pretending like everything was alright. It was too early in the morning for him to be pretending he thought Lucanis would be glad to see him at all.

“Good to see you.”

“Keep your voice down,” Lucanis hissed at him. If he woke Rook, Lucanis would punch him. And it was too early in the morning for that, too.

Illario wiggled perfectly plucked eyebrows at him, his grin turning suggestive.

“Have a good night?” He asked, and at least he did lower his voice. Lucanis was in no mood to discuss any part of last night with his cousin.

He stared at Illario, who finally dropped the grin.

“Fine,” the other man said, still quietly, and any pretense was gone from his face. “I have a favour to ask your Rook.”

Lucanis scoffed at him.

“What makes you think I would let you anywhere near her?” He asked, offended even at the suggestion. He didn’t know who would come out worse after that meeting. “Besides, she’s still asleep, come back later.”

He made to close the door in Illario’s face, but his cousin stuck an embroidered boot out, and stopped him.

“Lucanis,” he said through the crack that was still open. “I know you’re leaving soon. Please.”

Lucanis stared at him for a long moment. He couldn’t remember his cousin ever using the word ‘please’ before.

He sighed, then, and nodded.

“Wait here."

“ Thank you,” Illario grinned again, right before Lucanis closed the door.

“Still want to rip him,” Spite said as Lucanis walked back to the bed. It was a massive four-poster, complete with curtains that Rook had told him she’d never used once while she was living here.

I’d pretend like I was some sort of princess from a story.

He smiled, watching her. The braid he had done for her before they went to sleep was sloppy and mostly falling out, and her bottom lip pouted out slightly as she slept.

He didn’t want to wake her. What he wanted most in the world was to curl up around her and keep her safe and warm forever.

“I know you still want to hurt him,” Lucanis said. “But he’s family. He is just an idiot, too.”

Spite huffed with something akin to annoyance.

He carefully crawled back toward her, then softly kissed her cheek, moving strands of hair the same colour as honey away from her face as he did so.

“Rook?” He said gently, prompting her to stir. “Amore? Wake up, vita mia.”

There were few things more wonderful than the small sound of protest she made as she tried to bury her face back in the pillow.

He kissed her cheek again, and she finally seemed to truly wake up.

“Mmmhhh?” She hummed, her eyes still closed as she stretched her arms up above her head. He heard her spine and shoulders popping as she did, winced slightly at the sounds. Regretted Illario’s presence even more when her movements moved the blankets down slightly…

He leaned down again and kissed her, feeling her smile into it as he did.

When he pulled back, her eyes were open. Grey today, reflecting the clouds gathered over Minrathous outside, with dark circles beneath them. The dimples in her cheeks were clearly visible as she smiled adoringly up at him.

For a moment, he forgot everything in the world that was not this.

The moment never lasted, however.

“Illario is here,” he made himself say, and her smile vanished like mist in the sun.

“What?” She frowned. “Why?”

“He says he would like to speak with you,” Lucanis shrugged.

“Well, tell him to bugger off until later,” she grouched, turning to go back to sleep.

He stopped her with a kiss.

“He says it’s urgent,” he said.

She huffed in annoyance, but then rolled her eyes at him.

“Fine,” she said after a moment. “Let me just… clean up and get dressed. Unless he would like to see me naked.”

“I’m not giving him that option,” he said seriously, and it earned him a grin.

He kissed her one last time, then rolled onto his side so she could get up.

Mierda, he thought as he watched her stretch on the edge of the bed. He could see the muscles in her back bunch together, the curves of her hips as she moved…

“ Tell her, Lucanis,” Spite said. “What Emmrich said.”

“Spite says you look pretty today,” he said as she walked toward the washroom. He traced the lines of her body with his eyes. Even the way she moved…

She lifted an eyebrow.

“Did you tell him he should say that?”

“No, Emmrich did,” he shrugged. “I am just surprised he listened.”

“Well, thank you, Spite,” she said into the air. It made his chest ache, and Spite basically preened.

“You could… join me in the bath, you know?” She asked him, pausing at the door holding a bundle of clothes.

“I should keep an eye on Illario,” he said, before thinking about it. She pouted at him.

“Don’t make that face,” he told her. He’d gotten slightly, ever so slightly, better at saying no to her pouts, but it cost him dearly, each time.

“You know I would rather be with you.”

“Do I?” She asked, her eyes twinkling.

“You do.”

The corner of her mouth lifted in a sincere smile, and she blew him a kiss before going to bathe.

He sighed, then got up to find a shirt, and make sure Illario did not get himself into too much trouble while they waited for her to finish.

***

“You want,” Rook said, staring flatly at Illario, “To come with us. To Orlais.”

She could tell his smile was paper thin, and there was an edge of desperation to the way Signore Dellamorte the Lesser had asked her to accompany them.

“Why?”

She felt… better today. The injuries from those final confrontations with Elgar’nan and then Solas had been tended to, so now they were dull aches instead of throbbing wounds. She’d slept better last night, too. Hadn’t woken up screaming from a nightmare about Lace or Varric or the Fade prison. She was still so tired that standing up for this long was draining her, but it was better. She was better. And it was only the second day.

There was no doubt in her mind the nightmares would come back, but she would take small moments of relief where she could find them.

“Can a man not simply want to spend time with his cousin?” He asked smoothly, spreading his hands in front of him, the picture of innocence. “A cousin recently returned as if from the dead, I remind you.”

Rook almost shot a bolt of lightning at him. She could feel it crackling at the edge of her fingers, but if she shot a hole in Dorian’s hallway wall, she’d never hear the end of it, and missing their midday boat was not worth it.

She lifted an eyebrow at him.

“Really?” She asked, making a show of inspecting her nails. She could play games, too, if she wanted to.

“I think it’s because you’re afraid.”

Illario blinked.

Got you.

Evidently Caterina had said something to him. Or one of the other Talons. Or all of them. It was difficult to think of anyone in Thedas who had a bigger target on their back just then than Illario Dellamorte. And of course he had come crawling to the one person that would never turn him aside.

Or at least the person who could convince that one person to not turn him aside, just as she had the last time.

“You can rot,” she said flatly, and the widening of his eyes told her she was more right than she’d thought. He was afraid.

“Unless you stop lying.”

Illario’s jaw clenched. He was wearing a magnificently embroidered light blue shirt, with the top three buttons undone to show just the right amount of chest to be alluring but not cheap.

“What makes you think I would lie to you, Rook?” He asked, his voice not betraying any turmoil. “I hurt my cousin, I am aware. Perhaps I simply want to make it up to him.”

There was truth to that, she knew. But only some. She’d spent enough time around Leliana and the nobles in Orlais to know a half-truth when she heard one.

She folded her arms across her chest and leaned back against the wall, just looking at him.

That one she had learned from Emmrich.

A few moments passed, and when she simply kept looking at him, Illario began to fidget.

He frowned at her.

“What do you want me to say?”

“I want you to tell me why you want to come,” she said.

“Why does it matter ?”

She shrugged, perhaps slightly enjoying his discomfort.

“Humour me.”

He growled with frustration.

“Caterina refuses to let me stay in the house, alright?” He finally bit out. “She wants nothing to do with me, and without her protection, I am a sitting duck for the other Talons. The only way I can see of staying alive long enough to think of a new plan is if I come with the two of you."

She smiled sweetly at him. Him losing his composure was a lot more enjoyable to watch than it should be. Especially after he had woken her up. For this.

“See?” She said, even more sweetly. “That wasn’t so difficult.”

He scowled at her.

“So?” He asked. “Can I come with you?”

“Ask Lucanis,” she said, pushing away from the wall.

“What?” Illario caught her arm in a bruising grip. “Lucanis- “

“Is the one who got hurt because of you,” she cut him off, “And the only one who gives a shit whether you live or die.”

“Lucanis doesn’t want to talk to me.”

She looked at him, exasperated.

“Maker’s balls but there are no two bigger idiots in Thedas,” she said lifting her eyes to the ceiling.

“Lucanis decides whether you come,” she said, putting a note of finality in her voice. “I don’t care.”

She caught his wrist and channeled fire, burning him just enough that he let go of her arm with a hissed curse in Antivan, then she walked back into her room to pack, slamming the door behind her.

“Illario wants to talk to you,” she told Lucanis, who had been standing close by the door, listening in on their conversation.

“Before we leave.”

She felt a rush of affection for him when he didn’t act like he hadn’t been eavesdropping.

“Do you think it’s true?” He asked her, frowning at the door. No doubt Illario was standing on the other side, listening in just as he had been.

She rubbed the skin on her arm where he had grabbed her, hoping there wouldn’t be bruises, and wishing she’d given him a worse burn.

“That Caterina kicked him out of the house?” She opened her rucksack and started shoving shirts and pants in. When she looked up, Lucanis was shaking his head at her, a smirk on his face.

“Yes,” he said. “If you fold the clothes, you can fit more of them, cara mia.”

“I think,” she shoved another pair of trousers in, looking him in the eye as she did, “He was too reluctant to tell me for it to not be true. Also, why would Caterina want to keep him safe? She’s barely spoken to you after… everything. And you’re still her favourite.”

Lucanis’s shoulders tensed, and she regretted mentioning the rift between him and his grandmother, but it was true.

He sighed in frustration, a hand going up to tug at his beard as he thought.

“Spite says he thinks we should leave him,” he said after a moment.

She stopped trying to fit a rolled up pair of socks into her bag, and walked over to him instead.

“And you?” She asked, her arms closing around his neck. He pulled her closer, buried his face in her neck.

She’d never… she was still amazed at how safe she felt with him. It was stupid, and utterly nonsensical, but some animal instinct for danger that had been alert since she was a child simply… relaxed, when he held her, when she smelled his scent of coffee and leather and just a hint of spice from his cologne.

“I don’t know,” he said quietly. “Would you hate me, if I told him he could come?”

“Lucanis,” she said gently, “I could never hate you.”

He lifted his head, smiling softly.

“Never?”

“Never.”

“What if I ate your last piece of chocolate?”

She opened her mouth.

“Without asking.”

“I would fry your eyebrows off,” she said flatly, then, more softly, “And still love you.”

“Even with my eyebrows gone?”

She laughed.

“You’re trying to avoid making a decision,” she said.

“I know.”

He frowned at her.

“That was a lot easier to do before I met you.”

She kissed him on the nose.

“Happy to help, now, what do you think?”

“I don’t… want to talk to him,” Lucanis said, his head dropping onto her shoulder again. “I don’t want to forgive him, or be near him.”

He sighed.

“But I don’t want him to die.”

She smiled sadly. That was the problem, wasn’t it?

“He could stay here,” she said, rubbing a hand up and down his back. She knew it soothed him.

“Dorian could look after him. Or Neve. Or he could only go with us as far as Treviso, and then go to Rivain.”

“The Crows would find him,” he said. “Even in the Archon’s palace.”

He sighed again.

“The only way I can make sure he stays alive is if he comes with us.”

“Right,” she said. “Then that’s decided. You should go tell him. And you haven’t packed yet.”

“I’m an efficient packer,” he said, lifting his head so he could grin at her, his eyes twinkling. “Don’t worry.”

He kissed her softly.

“And he probably heard through the door. I’ll make sure he’s packed… after.”

“After?” She asked, grinning.

“After,” he said, kissing her again.

She really hoped Illario had stopped listening at the door.

***

Illario turned away from the door in disgust after another moment.

They’d known he would be listening, and part of him was sure Lucanis was doing it on purpose.

Another part knew that he was inconsequential to the two of them. Sure, Lucanis would probably be distraught if he were to die, or vanish, but if he still had his precious Rook?

He shook his head, trying to rid himself of thoughts like that. It had been those thoughts that had gotten him into this mess in the first place. Well, those thoughts and the fact that most of the Venatori were incompetent at best.

He grimaced, walking back through the mansion to the street. It was fitting, really, that his cousin was handed a grand room in the newly crowned Archon’s private home, while Illario had to make do with a room above one of the few taverns that had not been destroyed by the gods or the blight.

It was raining. It was always raining in this shithole. Why anyone would possibly want to live here was beyond him. His blue shirt was getting soaked through, and there wasn’t even anyone here to admire it.

He pushed away the uncomfortable thought that there never really had been. That the only person who had ever truly been there was Lucanis.

The only way I can make sure he stays alive is if he comes with us.

He hated that his cousin still thought he was incompetent. Hated that he had proved him right, not once, but twice. Hated the way Rook looked at him like he was a piece of shit on the bottom of her shoe, when Lucanis received looks like he had hung the stars and the moon, as if his cousin had never done anything wrong in his life. Had never treated Illario exactly the same way Caterina had treated him. Hated that he had had to ask them to go with them. To Orlais of all places. Mierda, he really was desperate.

Most of all, though, Illario hated himself as he trudged up the stairs to his rented room and packed up what he had brought with him to fight. Armour, daggers, sword, and one extra change of clothes. The rest he would have to get from Treviso before they left, and if he was going to Orlais, he would have to look respectable.

He looked in the mirror before he left the room, more out of habit than anything else, and realised there was nothing there he wanted to see.

Nothing there anyone wanted to see.

***

The plan was to take a boat from Treviso to Denerim, and then find a way to Orlais from there. It sounded easy enough, except for the fact that it meant having to say goodbye.

Not to everyone, of course. She could put off that goodbye for a few months yet, but enough that it was painful.

Because deep down, she knew, she wasn’t coming back to Minrathous, not really.

You’re not coming back, are you?

I… haven’t really thought about it.

But she had. She’d never been able to make a choice for herself. Since that day at eight years old when the templars had shown up at their door, everyone had decided for her. Even when she had come to Minrathous the first time, all those years ago, her choice had been here or the Circle.

For the first time in her life… Rook was free to choose her own path forward.

And as she looked over at Lucanis, depositing both their bags in front of the eluvian while they waited for the others, she knew what she was going to choose.

You don’t… have to come, you know. I’d understand if you want to stay in Treviso with Caterina.

I know you would. But I want to stay with you. Then we can come back to Treviso together.

Dorian stood off to the side with the Inquisitor and Commander Cullen, watching the waves hit the rocks below them. She should probably stop referring to him as ‘Commander’ now.

The hole in the wall of the safehouse hadn’t been fixed yet, but it would be. Neve would make sure of it.

“Your companions are joining us, yes?” Morrigan asked. “The vessel will not wait for us past noon.”

“As far as I’m aware,” Rook grinned at Morrigan. “It will take us ten seconds to cross from here to Treviso.”

Morrigan huffed, but folded her arms as they waited for the others. It had been her idea, the boat. With the Vi’Revas unable to connect to most of the eluvians in the South, this was the quickest way to get to Denerim.

“The vessel isn’t going to leave any earlier, either,” she said, imitating Morrigan’s cadence as she did, and the older woman stopped tapping her foot just long enough to shoot Rook a withering glance.

The first of her companions to arrive was Davrin, and Rook, despite her earlier confident words to Morrigan, breathed a small sigh of relief when he did. Assan chirped happily, and ran over to greet her and then Lucanis as Davrin deposited his bag next to theirs.

“You came,” she said, grinning at him when he came to stand with them.

“‘Course,” he grinned back. “We made a promise, remember?”

“I do.”

We’ll go together then, like a little holiday after saving the world. Find your family, see the Dales, see some wyverns…

Is that a promise, Grey Warden?

As much of one as I can make.

The others trickled in soon after. Taash, pack slung over one shoulder. Emmrich and Manfred, both carrying their own pack and staff. Neve, Elek, Rana and Bellara, none of whom were joining them, but who had come to say goodbye.

And lastly, Illario, dressed in a new shirt and waistcoat, blood red and black this time.

“What is he doing here?” Davrin asked, reaching for his sword. Assan had already crouched into his ready position, waiting to pounce. Even Emmrich was standing more at attention.

“Coming with you,” Illario said, flashing Davrin a grin. “I would not want you deprived of my excellent company.”

“Deprived of your- Rook, what is he doing here?”

“He is coming with us,” Lucanis said. “My cousin has managed to anger every single Crow in Thedas, and we thought it perhaps better if he left Antiva for a while.”

Davrin, reluctantly, let go of the pommel of his sword.

“Fine,” he said, scowling at Illario. “Just remember what happened last time we fought.”

“As far as I remember,” Illario’s grin only widened, “You dropped your sword on the floor at my feet.”

“Fuck you- “

“Girls!” Rook rolled her eyes and stepped between the two of them, holding up her hands. “Both of you are pretty. Can we please avoid fighting for the entirety of this trip?”

The two of them glared at each other from opposite sides of her, then nodded. Once.

The tension in the room lessened slightly, which she was glad of. Her head was starting to pound again, and if they didn’t get somewhere where she could sit down soon, she’d start getting dizzy. The last thing she wanted was to deal with the two of them squabbling.

Illario stalked off toward the eluvian, stopping to say something to Lucanis before vanishing through it.

She raised an inquisitive eyebrow at him, and he rolled his eyes in the mirror’s direction.

“He needs to get the rest of his clothes from the villa,” Lucanis said, sighing. “He’ll meet us at the docks.”

She couldn’t help but grin.

“Of course he does.”

Lucanis grinned back, and she realised it was time. Everyone was here, and there was no reason to delay any longer.

No reason… except…

She looked over at Neve and Bellara, who were already hugging Emmrich goodbye.

“Don’t look so sad, Rook,” Neve walked over when she noticed her glance. “It’s not like we won’t ever see each other again.”

She gave Neve a look, and the other mage smiled. It was a sad smile. Both of them knew there was no guarantee. Both of them had lost enough that goodbyes like this would always be hard.

Before she could stop herself, she’d pulled Neve into a hug. There was a surprised pause, and then Neve’s arms closed around her as well.

“Thanks, Rook,” she said softly, so only the two of them would hear. “For coming through for us.”

“I didn’t do anything,” Rook whispered back. She was too tired for this. Too drained and too hurt. Tears pricked at her eyes.

“You stuck,” Neve said, pulling back with a grin. “Not a lot of people do.”

“Docktown owes you one for getting those demons out, at least,” Elek said from behind Neve. “You ever need that villa in Treviso, you know who to ask.”

“I do,” she grinned at him. “Thanks, Elek.”

“And thanks, Rook,” Rana said. “For the hope.”

“There’s a lot we can do with that,” Neve said. “And a new Archon.”

“He’s very much in over his head,” Rook said, winking at her as she did. Neve’s brown eyes twinkled back.

“I’ll remember,” she said. And Rook knew that to mean she’d keep an eye, however distant.

“Goodbye, Neve,” she made herself say. “I’m glad you said you’d help Varric.”

“Me too, Rook. Me too.”

She turned towards Bellara, but before she was even properly facing her, the elf had already thrown her arms around Rook. It was all she could do to hug her back.

“I’m going to miss you,” Bellara said, tears in her voice.

“No,” Rook said, grinning. “You won’t. You’ll be too busy with the Nadas Dirthalen, and the elves, and the Crossroads and the artifacts and your book- “

Bellara pulled back slightly, and there were still black veins beneath her eyes. That was another thing Rook still had to fix, no matter what.

“I won’t,” Bellara said.

“I’ll miss you too, Bel,” she said. “Promise you’ll describe me as ‘beautiful’ in your book?”

Bellara sniffled, but managed a grin.

“I promise.”

She pulled away, knowing this goodbye would be the most difficult. Knowing she’d been putting it off since this morning.

She turned to Dorian Pavus, the new Archon of Tevinter, and saw he was crying.

***

Lucanis stood with Neve, Bellara and Emmrich as Rook said goodbye to Dorian, to the side of the room.

It would be hard, for both of them. But perhaps good, too.

“Oh,” Neve said from next to him. “I hate goodbyes.”

He smirked at her, and she scowled back.

“Don’t you dare look at me like that,” she said. “I know you’re just as bad.”

He was. He was trying not to show it, but this was difficult.

“We’ll see each other again,” he said soothingly.

“Maybe,” Neve sighed. “But we both know we love our jobs too much, Lucanis. All three of us."

That was true as well.

“It certainly won’t be the same again,” Emmrich said. “All of us living together, growing together…”

“I am just happy to get out of the damned Lighthouse,” he said. “Mierda, but the Fade was not my favourite.”

“Really?” Neve asked. “I quite liked it.”

They watched as Dorian drew Rook into a hug, resting his chin on her head.

“You’ll look after her, won’t you?” Neve asked him.

He scoffed.

“You should be telling her to look after me ,” he said.

“She’ll do that anyway,” Neve waved a hand. “You’re the one I’m nervous about.”

He smiled.

“I’ll look after her,” he said. “I’m not giving this up. Not for anything.”

“Good.”

Lucanis saw her eyes wander toward the tall templar, waiting with Elek at the side of the room. He didn’t say anything, but in his most romantic heart of hearts, he wished them all the happiness in the world.

***

“It’s funny, you know,” Dorian said as she walked up to him, wiping at his tear-streaked face. “I’ve said so many goodbyes in my life, but none of them have ever hurt quite like this one.”

“Don’t- “ she stopped, her voice thick. “You can’t get sentimental on me. Not now.”

“There has to be a first for everything, I suppose.”

He grinned at her, though it looked more like a grimace. She supposed the fact that both of them were exhausted did not help matters much.

“It’s been so many years,” he said, “Dreaming of everything getting better. Dreaming of making it right. And now… I finally can. It’s just that- well. Now that I’m here I- I feel like I’m in slightly over my head, and the one person who was there with me through all of it is leaving.”

She smiled. He was wrong, but he’d have to figure that out for himself, unfortunately.

“Small steps, Dorian,” she said softly.

He drew her into a hug, and she had to screw her eyes shut tightly when he rested his chin on top of her head.

“You’ll visit, won’t you?” He asked her. “Come for dinner? I’m sure the palace can do better than one Crow can manage…”

“Hmmm… dinner at the Archon’s palace? I’ll be there.”

“Good,” he said. “That makes this slightly better.”

There were many things to say. Thank you. I’ll miss you. Please, don’t get yourself killed without me there. You were the only family I had for eight years.

She didn’t say any of those things, however, and neither did he. They knew. You don’t spend eight years working and living together without knowing.

She pulled away after a moment, and he cupped her face in his hand.

“Let me know,” he said, trying for casual and failing miserably. “When you find your family.”

She nodded, and he stepped away. She was thankful he had done it first.

She turned toward the eluvian, toward Lucanis, Davrin, Taash and Emmrich, toward Treviso and the harbour, toward the start of the rest of her life.

Here is the link to my ao3 where I'll probably be posting the rest of the chapters if you want to read because this bad boy is going to be long, I'm guessing

[heylittleriotact]

@chaezaru is my favourite enabler and asked what Amina’s bond is like with her other companions.

Contains spoilers through the end of act 2 so putting it under the cut:

Harding: Grief isn’t an emotion exclusive to people dying - Lace is running the gamut, grieving the person she was before her new powers, grieving the injustices her people were subjected to, and grieving the person that she thought Solas was. That’s enough to really mess someone up if they don’t have a solid support system, so Amina takes extra care to make sure Lace is included and looked after. She spends a lot of time in the greenhouse, asking her to teach her how to grow things. It turns out this is good for both of them: Amina isn’t accustomed to the practice of cultivating new life and finds it very rewarding, and Harding gets to feel like she has some control over *something* in the damn world for a few minutes.

Bellara: She carries a lot of guilt that manifests in self-doubt and over-caution. She’s afraid to fail because she’s haunted by the consequences of past failures. Amina relates to this more than she’d care to admit, and doesn’t really feel equipped to help Bellara with her feelings when she’s still struggling with her own guilt. She knows she should encourage her to grow past it, but wouldn’t that make her a hypocrite if she’s still caught up on her own regrets? She does enjoy spending time with her though - the two of them start writing a smutty romance together, trading a thick leather bound notebook back and forth every few days. Anyone who inquires about this activity is met with feigned obliviousness.

Neve: It’s a professional relationship through and through. Amina is still very much figuring out that outside of Nevarra, being mortalitasi is either a conversation starter or a conversation ender: there’s no in between. More often than not when she alludes to her work when talking to Neve because it’s really all she knows outside of her own name, it’s a conversation ender. Amina is low key jealous that the wisps of the lighthouse prefer to converge in Neve’s office. That doesn’t stop her from finding ridiculous excuses to visit the mage just to spend time with the wisps.

Davrin: Sometimes Amina wonders if Reda and Gortan experienced similar frustrations with her as Davrin seems to experience either Assan. Granted, she was a person and not a griffin, and Reda and Gortan specifically volunteered to raise her when she was found in the Necropolis as an infant. But still. Raising a child that isn’t your blood is different than raising one that is - no denying that. She likes spending time with the warden and Assan, and while she thinks Davrin is indeed a knight in shining armor straight out of a fairytale, she’s rather disillusioned with the fact that he seems committed to the idea that his existence is meaningless if it doesn’t end in a heroic death.

Lucanis: Amina catches Lucanis off guard by how completely unbothered she appears to be about Spite. She was more taken aback by how much he spends on coffee in a month than the fact that he’s inhabited by a spirit. She sees how other people treat him and act around him because of it and feels bad for both Lucanis and Spite: none of this was either of their faults. So she just treats Lucanis like she would anyone else, and any appearance by Spite is met with patience and kindness that surprises the spirit too. Most mornings at the Lighthouse start with Amina and Lucanis sitting at the dining table in complete silence as they drink their coffee. Lucanis tried to strike up a morning conversation once, but was met with a series of one word answers and distant “mhmmm’s” until he realized that Amina was either unwilling or incapable of conversing before she found the bottom of that first cup after waking.

Taash: Amina doesn’t seem to unnerve Taash quite as much as Emmrich does, but she doesn’t understand why. Sure she’s not a mage and she doesn’t do *exactly* the same work that Emmrich does, but she converses with spirits, bathes, embalms, and dresses the deceased, repairs undead, and leads funeral services just like anyone else in Watch is expected to do. If anything Amina thinks Taash should be MORE creeped out by Amina because of how casually and optimistically she talks about her own eventual death. Maybe it’s Emmrich’s moustache? Either way, she tries to find common ground with them that is unrelated to anything death-ish. They work out a lot. Amina is determined to out-plank Taash one of these days. Amina really dislikes Taash’s Mom. Having been envious of other children that grew up knowing their parents, Shathann’s relationship with Taash diminishes Amina’s idealized view of what parents should be like - what hers would be like if she had them. She struggles to understand why a parent who has put so much effort and sacrifice into raising their child would treat them with such coldness when they’re clearly trying to live up to unattainable expectations.

Emmrich: Amina is so incredibly smitten with him. He makes her feel seen and valued in a way that no one aside from her adoptive family has, and she considers herself incredibly lucky to have found him. She’s never had more engaging and fascinating discussions with another person, and though they have very, very different perspectives surrounding death and mortality, the contrast compliments their relationship. Amina is comforted by the idea of mortality and the natural cycle of life and death: the order and guarantee of an End, but having Emmrich in her life gives her pause and reason to take better care of herself and approach battles more cautiously instead of throwing herself into them like the armour-clad Reaper that she is. She’s very understanding of Emmrich’s thanatophobia, however: it’s an incredibly common affliction, and the fact that he’s a scholarly necromancer who happens to be terrified of his own mortality doesn’t diminish his accomplishments or make him a fraud, and it doesn’t change the fact that he is an amazingly kind, compassionate person to everyone he comes into contact with - alive or dead. Sometimes he has nightmares about dying. She makes him chamomile and lavender tea and writes gentle love notes on his back with her fingertip till he falls back asleep.

Bonus - Solas: From their first meeting in her dreams, she felt there was something different about him, but dreams can be misleading and mercurial, so she didn’t put much stock into it at first. Once it was revealed that Solas was a spirit that manifested physically, Amina’s entire perception around their interactions changed: what was Solas if not another lost spirit in need of assistance? Sure, she’d never encountered a spirit of his magnitude, age, and power before, but… the fundamental approach to handling him couldn’t possibly be that different, right?

[thessalian]

Thess vs A Necromance

Still on my Meep!Rook playthrough. Should probably catch up on the dialogue liveblog thing, because I haven't really been, mostly because I've been doing at least one quest in the morning before work. Mainly because there's nothing like slaying a Fangscorcher to get the adrenaline going and it's better than a cup of coffee for a wake-up. But I did want to say a thing about the Emmrich romance "out of character", so to speak.

So, yeah, the necromance. I won't say it's better than Lucanis', because it really depends on what you go for, and it's kind of nice that one isn't obliged to have intimate physical contact (and yes, kissing counts) in order to form a shorthand for "we're in love". But Emmrich ... okay, the flowery words and the romantic gestures are a thing, but that's not the only thing that impresses me about the Emmrich romance.

What impresses me is that he actually states that Rook's under incredible pressure right now and needs a break sometimes. I don't know if the others do that, but on that "date night" you get at the Necropolis after locking in the necromance, he's very specifically like, "for pity's sake, you need a break sometimes because it's taking a higher toll on your body than you realise!"

I figure the reason Lucanis doesn't say anything like that is because of how he is ... if that makes sense? Like, he's been using The Job to dissociate from the shit going on with his family wherever possible, and so that registers on his radar as a coping mechanism that he's not going to interfere with. Also he probably doesn't want to look like the world's biggest hypocrite. I don't know exactly what the others do, but I suppose I'll find out.

Also ... the man is made of innuendo if you get him in the right mood, apparently. The tone of voice when he talked about how he understands anatomy holy shit. Which makes the conversation I heard between Davrin and Emmrich about Rook and Emmrich "getting tight" and offering him tips on "hand-to-bone combat" even funnier, honestly. Sometimes Davrin is just a massive gremlin and I no longer feel one tiny bit sorry when Lucanis trolls Davrin about "Oh no! Spite's taking over! ...my shoulders are too tight and I need a massage!" Because at the time I was like, "That's maybe a little much to joke about, mi amore" but given the troll that Davrin is? He had it coming.

All that to say ... I've obviously heard the news about Bioware's announcement and its layoffs and moving people over to other bits of EA. I have a lot that I could say about it but I guess I don't really want to add to the various bits of discourse about it. Maybe when I'm less tired ... but probably not. All I can say is that if the Dragon Age franchise is now over ... well. They're ours now, as Sheryl Cree said. We'll always have fanfic.

[zoneofsmites]

The Empress, the Lovers, and Temperance for Felix from the tarot card questions!

(questions from here.)

Thanks for the ask Cross 💙💙

Rook Tarot Card Asks - Felix Mercar

The Empress: What does family mean for Rook?

Family means a lot to Felix. He wouldn't be who he is today if not for his family. Not just in a "they raised me to be like this" - though that is obviously part of it, more in a "I would probably be dead if you hadn't taken me in" way.

Family is a home. Family is people that care for you. Family is helping each other. Family is loving each other even if it's all but easy. Sometimes it's all of that and you don't even like them (like in the case with his sister).

Family is mostly complicated.

The Lovers: Who is your Rook's most significant relationship within the Veilguard? How do they help Rook feel seen and understood?

Sharing the spot for most important relationship to Felix are Lucanis, Davrin, and Taash. For different reasons.

Taash gives him a sense of purpose. Before Felix was close to anything like what he is now, he was Ashkaari. While he doesn't act like their mother (if anything they're more sibling-esque), he does help them with their Qunlat and pronunciation. Taash listens. Taash also gets being Qunari and something else more than anyone else.

Davrin and Felix have, in some ways, similar habits. They're close friends, and Davrin can see it coming when Felix gets to be too restless or in his head. He knows when to drag the boss out to get some air under the guise of 'letting Assan see some real sky'.

Lucanis is probably one of maybe four people that Felix feels comfortable with to speak his feelings to, without making it into a joke or to skirt the line of what he really means or feels. Lucanis listens without showing judgement.

Temperance: What does Rook do to deal with the stress of their situation?

The most non-destructive solution is baking. There is a near constant supply of cookies and cakes, almost magically manifesting every morning. The smell or noise has lured Lucanis (and Spite, just as often) from the pantry in the middle of the night.

The most destructive one is drinking - though he's been trying to cut down on alchohol consumption. There is also the occasional adrenaline-seeking by beating the shit out of someone that deserves it (venatori usually).

Right in the middle is music. It is not destructive but he tends to want to release stress at night when he's restless and can't sleep. He'd wake people up playing the piano in the music room.

[winterfromtevinter]

═══════════════════⊹⊱≼≽⊰⊹═══════════════════

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐔𝐑𝐑𝐒 𝐎𝐅 another uneasy night cling to Neve. Her edges are softened in a way she dislikes, all murk-fuzz and morning drowsiness. Hardly surprising, with the way she had tossed about for hours before giving up entirely on resting.

Hardly a surprise. How many years has it been since she's slept soundly, deeply so? There is always some puzzle to solve, some code to break. A nagging that whispers in her ear, a pain in her hip. There are not enough hours in the day to satisfy all she needs to do. Neve abhors being idle.

The Lighthouse has not helped a bit in this regard. She wonders if the others are burdened with the same unease. One thing to visit the Fade in dreams, another entirely to trust that the bed won't simply vanish under her as she sleeps. Or, to be ever more paranoid, the walls or the floating tower itself. The only spirits that have found them in Solas' sanctum so far are harmless ( if mischievous ) wisps and the Caretaker, but does that point to actual safety? Or is it only a matter of time before something with a hunger for a mortal vessel emerges from the depths?

As if Spite does not already sleep among them. That spirit is far more malignant than the little wisps that nestle in her hair and steal her notes. And she is about to accept coffee from it.

No, not from Spite. Lucanis, who looks to have slept just as poorly as she had. Maybe that's what has her joining the Crow in the dining hall. They're both here, they're both mortal, and they're both up against impossible odds. A little chat won't hurt.

"Coffee sounds wonderful," of course it does. The brew Lucanis has ready smells much better than the usual sludge she boils as hot and fast as she can. Coffee is a means to keep her going, rarely an indulgence. Neve has a hunch that they would disagree on this. "We need someone ⸻ something very dangerous, dead. Powerful old mages who fashion themselves gods. Who better than the famed Mage Killer himself? Though that does make me think...would it be in bad taste to ask if I should accept a drink from the very man I suggested we hire for his skill in killing mages? Or is that caution to be applauded?" Despite her words she does not hesitate to grab herself a cup.

"You know, we are human. Most of us, anyway. There's enough zealots out there with dreams of ascension to some nightmarish other-creature that they skew the numbers a bit. But for every mage who sees blood as power and flesh as currency, there are thousands who wake up every morning in Tevinter and just go about their day, no overtures of godhood to be seen."

She considers the question she's been asked many a time before. There are so many answers she could give to why she does this. Stories of suffering witnessed that she was powerless to stop, voices quelled too early. Lights in the dark that should have seen the light, one day. "I'm aware of the black reputation of my homeland. Even worse, that of Minrathous herself. She is not a kind city, built on the back of slaves we will never know the names of as she is. But she holds legion within her walls, who do not all deserve to be cosigned as lost causes," heavy thoughts, heavy words, heavy dreams. She decides to ease from the topic with a single thought: "My work has found me because I believe in it. Let there be a day that the name of the Imperium does not evoke only its legacy of pain and indulgence."

The first sip proves the earlier thought right; it is an insult to call what she makes even the same beverage. She cradles the warm cup thoughtfully to her chest. She'll have to try and catch Lucanis just after he's brewed this more often. "I haven't had reason to leave Tevinter before. Family didn't have money for it as a kid, and I certainly don't now. Little time to travel between tracking Venatori movement and smuggling routes. Not to mention the smaller jobs I still take on the side," part of her worries about Dock Town in her absence. She just has to trust the eyes and ears she has on the ground. Viper would let her know the minute she was really needed. Being here ensures that she even has a home to go back to at the end of everything. "I am sure your contracts have brought you much further."

The Fade twinkles, starlight and fairy dust, as the sky remains at perpetual dusk. Or dawn, perhaps, depending on one's outlook on the world. His schedule leans toward the nocturnal hours, though the mind yet requires adjustment after a mere year (an eternity) trapped beneath the seas. Smaller wisps flit about, resembling moths, and Neve's voice sparks their attention. SHE SEES. TOO MUCH. And that much Lucanis agrees on as she calls out, cautiously polite. Her voice reminiscent of a blade's edge against whetstone, always sharp and prepared for what's to come.

As her gait nears, glaringly unique, Lucanis mentions the existence of a fresh pot of coffee while meeting her gaze. The word opaque comes unbidden. O-pāk. Cloudy, misty, hard to see through. And yet, for him, the O meant openness. 'Aque' like ache; something tender, penetrating, and Lucanis delves deeper into the glimpse of transparency she allows so graciously. "I do not doubt your presence in Vyrantium would've made my work more laborious during those years. And yet you recommended my services for our current goal." For a fleeting moment, he wants to assuage her concerns; however, the promises of a killer are nothing more than paltry. He's killed her country-men, no matter how deserved their fate, for flesh-pounds of gold. He's killed for far less, admittedly.

THEY ARE. ALL THE. SAME. LIKE ZARA.

Quiet, he thinks, weary. Undeniably, Neve doesn't carry the discernible tinge of blood magic in her veins, nothing that he nor Spite could detect. Still, he's run across, and cut down, far too many mages who thought their goals and methods as reasonable. Righteous, even. She dares hope for better — and he's witnessed the folly of such dreams time immemorial.

"Would it be terrible to say I find it heartening that the tales of mistresses and complicated love to be comforting? It is easy to classify mages from Tevinter as inhuman, but such instances serve as reminder they are anything but." The air between them remains unhurried, still as winter's morning. The sound of coffee filling a mug adds to the silence, and Lucanis turns his back to her, still remaining outside to watch the not-sky. "Have you ventured outside Tevinter much, Neve? I ask simply because my fate as an assassin was set in stone. How you fell into your work interests me... For reasons you might find understandable."

WHY DOES. SHE WANT TO FIX. IT.