#lucanis dellamorte fic

[flightlessangelwings]

Sweeter Than Coffee

Lucanis Dellamorte x Rook (Reader) (gender neutral)

Word count-1265

Warnings- s.mut (18+ ONLY!), praise, body worship, oral, romance, soft and sweet, written in second person reader insert style but also written as Rook so you can interpret it however you like (insert, oc, however!), no physical description of Rook/Reader

Notes-I was at work when Lucanis spoke to me with this idea and here we are lol! Short and sweet but I loved this idea so much! Pspsps @ollypopwrites! Enjoy and let me know what you think!

@flightlessangelwings-updates is my update blog so please follow that and turn on post notifs to stay up to date on when I post new things!

~ 

“Meirda, Rook,” Lucanis purred, “You look so beautiful in the moonlight.”

“Lucanis…” you playfully nudged him as you felt your skin tingle. His words always made you feel a flutter in your chest, something you weren’t used to. And to be honest, you were sure if you could ever get used to his sweet praises.

“It’s true, Rook,” he ran his hand along your bare skin, “No other sight compares to you, mi amor.”

He had you stripped bare before him and on your back out on a pile of blankets. Only the moonlight illuminated your bodies as you laid together under the stars. There was a slight nip in the air, but you didn’t feel it at all under Lucanis’ warm gaze. 

“Are you always such a romantic, Lucanis?” you smirked.

Lucanis gazed down at you from where he hovered, his arms on either side of your body to frame you between his hands, “Why don’t you find out?” he replied with a quip of his own.

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, and Lucanis joined in your laughter.

“Your laughter is music to my ears,” his tone dropped as he turned more serious, “And…” Lucanis closed the gap between your faces, taking your lips with his own in a tender, sweet kiss. You moaned into him as you grabbed his arms. “You taste so good,” he murmured against your skin before he kissed you again.

“Mmm,” you hummed into his kiss as his tongue danced with yours.

“Mas dulce que cafe,” Lucanis whispered.

Sweeter than coffee, you echoed in your mind. Any smart reply you had vanished from your thoughts as he kissed you again. This kiss was deeper, more passionate than the last, yet it was still slow. Lucanis took his time with you, tasting every corner of your mouth, savoring you.

When he finally broke away from his kiss, you inhaled deeply to fill your lungs again. Although you felt like you didn’t even need air with Lucanis around; his kisses were all you needed to survive. But, you felt breathless once more as he kissed his way down your neck, licking and nibbling at your skin. You buried a hand in his hair, tugging gently as he sucked at a particularly sensitive spot.

A slight giggle escaped your lips as goosebumps erupted on your skin. You knew he felt it too because you felt a low rumble from deep in his throat. That rumble went right to your core, though, sending warmth throughout your body.

“Lucanis…” you breathed as he shifted himself down.

“I know, mi amor,” he muttered as he kissed his way across your chest.

As he reached your nipple and wrapped his lips around it, you let out a loud moan. Arching your back into him, you tugged at his hair harder, encouraging him. You bit your lip to stifle another cry as Lucanis’ tongue rolled around your nipple before he gently bit it.

“You like that, amor?” he smirked as he glanced up at you with half lidded eyes.

“Tease,” you sighed back with a smile of your own.

“I am enjoying myself,” Lucanis’ eyes lit up as he dipped his head down and licked your other nipple, “Every inch of you is sweeter than the last,” he muttered as he kissed his way down your stomach, “But there is one thing I am craving more.”

“You’re impossible, Lucanis,” you tried to roll your eyes playfully, but his kisses distracted you from your banter.

“Just as impossible as you, mi amor.”

“Luc…” you were cut off by his mouth in between your legs, and you let out a gasp as you felt his tongue on you, “Fuck!”

Lucanis hummed with satisfaction as he devoured you. He gripped your thighs tightly as he licked and sucked between your legs. From the first moment he tasted you, he was addicted. He craved you every moment of every day, and even after having you, Lucanis always needed more. He felt his heart pound in his chest as he covered you with his mouth, greedily taking more of you.

You felt like you could float away if it weren’t for his strong grip holding you in place. Your eyes rolled back into your head as you arched your back. Cries of bliss filled the air as you felt his tongue swirl around you, lapping at every sensitive spot. Your legs trampled on either side of his head as you felt heat build from your core and your skin tingled with pleasure.

As you panted, you heard the sound of obscene splurging from between your legs as Lucanis ravaged you. If you were in a clearer headspace, you would have thought that he got just as much pleasure out of this as you did. And you would have been right. Blinking your eyes open- you didn’t even remember closing them- you caught a glimpse of his head between your thighs, and it made you groan as a fresh wave of pleasure pulsed through your body.

Dropping your head back down, you moaned even louder, “Lucanis… I’m gonna…”

He wanted to tell you to cum in his mouth. He wanted to tell you to let go, that he had you, that he would always have you. He wanted to tell you how good you tasted, and how beautiful you looked when you lost yourself. But he couldn’t tear himself away; he became too lost in you, too consumed with pleasuring you. Instead, Lucanis sucked harder, determined to send you over the edge.

It didn’t take long for Lucanis to get what he wanted, and you came hard with a loud scream. Your entire body shook as tears filled the corners of your eyes from the overwhelming sensations. You cried out his name as you yanked at his hair and surrendered yourself fully to him, trusting him completely.

Lucanis kept going until he was sure he got every drop of your release, only breaking away with reluctance as you came down from your high. He pushed himself up to admire you as he licked his lips, not wanting to waste a single drop of your juices.

“Mierda,” he sighed as he watched you recover.

You opened your eyes and you felt your heart skip a beat from the way he looked at you. No one had ever looked at you with such admiration and awe the way Lucanis did, and you were sure you would never get used to it.

“Come here,” you whispered as you opened your arms for him.

“As you wish,” Lucanis grinned as he lunged forward, covering your body with his as you wrapped your arms around him and pulled him in for a kiss. You both moaned into each other as you tasted yourself on his tongue.

As you locked your lips with his, you tried to roll your bodies over so that you could straddle Lucanis, but he stopped you. Breaking away, you looked at him with questioning eyes, “Lucanis?”

“I am not finished with you yet, mi amor,” he groaned as he leaned forward again to nibble on your earlobe, “I want to spend all night kissing every inch of you,” he kissed the nape of your neck, “I want to taste you over and over again,” Lucanis savored the moan you let out.

He paused, pushing himself up on his elbows to meet your gaze. He waited for you to open your eyes once more, and when you did, he gave you a mischievous smirk as he added, “Until it’s time to stop for coffee.” 

[ode-to-fury]

Other Plans for the Evening

Pairing: Lucanis x Rook

Summary: Scene after the Illario fight, but the way I would have written it. It's not that deep or different, but I think it's better. My Rook but mostly I wasn't specific.

Disclaimer: Whoo first Lucanis fic! I'm still trying to find the DA companions' voices so you might have to bear with me a little bit. This has been in my brain since the MOMENT he said "I have other plans for the evening". I tried to make him that weird mix of awkward and smooth so lmk if I did that or if I need to work on it. Might come back and edit.

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"You came back here just for coffee?"

Rook's voice startled him out of his thoughts.

When he looked up at her, his heart gave a lurch, the same lurch it had given every other time he'd laid eyes on her.

Her hair was damp and sligtly wavy from her bath, still, and she wore leather trousers and a shirt. It was difficult to see in the dim firelight, but he knew the blue of the shirt would be reflected in her eyes, twinkling above the bemused grin she was giving him.

"What, the stuff in that gigantic villa wasn't good enough for you?"

She folded her arms across her chest, eyebrows raised and dimples clearly visible as she grinned down at him. Mercifully, Spite was being quiet for once. He idly wondered if demons ever got tired, or overwhelmed after a long day. Something to ask Emmrich about, perhaps.

"It's better if I make it myself," he said, not quite managing to smile back at her, despite the lightness that smile brought to his chest.

"And besides, I wanted some quiet."

He hated that her smile melted slightly, her shoulders tightening ever so slightly. He doubted anyone else would have noticed, but he did.

"So," she said, "First Talon?"

"First Talon," he said, and if he was honest with himself, it did not fit right in his mouth.

"I still cannot believe Caterina did that."

Lucanis is the new First Talon. His decision stands.

The corner of her mouth lifted slightly, but her fingers tensed where they rested on her arm.

"Does that mean you're leaving?"

Ah.

He almost grinned.

"No," he said simply. "We have a contract. Besides, Caterina might have named me First Talon, but there's no stopping her from giving all the orders."

This time her smile was wider, and she tilted her head to the side so her hair shifted, glinting golden in the firelight. He ached to run his fingers through it.

"You know," she said, her eyes twinkling with laughter again, "You could have said, 'Of course not. I would never leave with you still here.'

Her Antivan accent was good. Too good. It made his chest feel tight whenever she pretended to be him. He grinned back at her despite himself.

"I would never leave with you still here," he said. "You'll have me for as long as I can put off the Crows."

He saw her brow furrow slightly, but she hid it quickly.

Before he could let his nerves interfere, he stood up, setting his half empty cup down on the table as he did.

"I may have had another reason for leaving the party early," he said, letting his voice drop slightly. He saw her eyes narrow, but then she gave him a crooked grin.

"Besides coffee, you mean?"

He walked past her, to the open space between the dining table and the door, and held out his hand to her.

"Dance with me," he said softly.

It was the first time he'd seen her truly taken aback. To his delight, her mouth even dropped slightly open.

"Dance with you?" She asked, as if he'd just asked her to jump into the Fade.

"What?" He asked.

"There's no music. Also, I told you," she said, shoulders tensing again, "I'm a terrible dancer."

She had. Technically she'd told all of them.

You'd have to get me drunk first, I'm afraid, it's mortifying otherwise. I got told I have about four left feet.

"You did," he said, still holding out his hand. "But you also said you loved to dance."

She tilted her head to the side, almost pleading.

"It's only me," he said softly.

"That's what's worrying me," she said, almost too quiet for him to hear, and he remembered that this was as new to her as it was to him.

What would a first kiss taste like?

Like hope.

She held back for a moment longer, then hesitantly, she placed her fingers in his hand.

They were warm, and her callouses scraped against his own as she allowed him to pull her close to him. His heart thumped in his chest, as if it was trying to get to her.

"I don't know how to do this," she said, and he knew she wasn't only talking about the dancing.

"Like this," he said, curling his left hand around her right, and placing the other one on his shoulder.

"Your elbow has to stay up," he said seriously, lifting said elbow so it was almost in line with her shoulder before dropping his hand to her waist. "Caterina would smack me with a cane if I got it wrong."

"If you try and smack me with a cane..." she started, leaving the threat unfinished.

"I couldn't find one," he said. She tried to hide a grin, but her dimples gave her away, and suddenly those hours with Caterina and her cane seemed worth it to him.

"Now," he said, "step back with your right foot."

She did, looking at her feet, and he followed, relishing the warmth of her hand on his shoulder, the way his hand fit perfectly on her waist.

"Back and to the left with the other."

She did so, and he followed.

"Now bring your feet together, and do the same with the other foot."

They went slowly, and he enjoyed watching the crease between her eyebrows as she concentrated.

Gently, he let go of her waist so he could tilt her face up to his own.

"You should look your partner in the eyes," he said, aware that his voice had dropped lower, but not really caring, "Not where you are going to step."

"And if I step wrong?" She asked, her voice slightly breathy. It felt like soft fingers tracing their way down his spine.

"Trust me to guide you," he replied, his hand going back to her waist.

The corner of her mouth curled up ever so slightly.

"Alright," she said. "I trust you."

As they moved slowly through the room, the firelight caught her eyes and hair, gilding her in gold and taking his breath from him. In fact, breathing felt suddenly like a very big effort.

"What is it?" She asked quietly, almost as if she was scared he would run if she spoke too loudly. He wasn't too certain he wouldn't.

"You are so beautiful," he said, before he could think about it too much, though his voice was markedly less smooth than it had been.

Her eyes, her beautiful, sparkling eyes, widened slightly.

"Really?" She asked.

"Would I ever lie to you?"

She smiled. It was small and soft this time.

"No one's ever called me that before," she whispered.

"Good," he managed to whisper back. "I would have to kill them."

And she laughed. By the blood of the Maker, she laughed and every terrible moment up until just then seemed as though it had a purpose.

"There's that smile," he said, when her laughter died down.

"Yours too," she replied, still grinning happily at him.

"Thank you, Rook," he found himself saying.

"You don't need to thank me."

She leaned in slightly, mischief in her eyes.

"For you, it's on the house."

His stomach tightened slightly when she did the accent, but he tried his best to ignore it.

"Did Illario hurt you?" He asked. "I'll skin him if he did."

She touched the scratch on her neck from Illario's, thankfully unpoisoned, blade.

"A scratch," she said dissmissively. "He hurt my pride more than anything else."

They moved for a few seconds in silence while he waited for her to ask the obvious next question.

"Do you regret..."

"Giving him a chance?"

He'd been thinking about it since they had left Villa Dellamorte.

Didn't you tell me he was basically your brother and your closest childhood friend?

"No," he said. "You were right. He's family."

Family. The word tasted sour in his mouth.

"I didn't even suspect him," he said. "When the Venatori caught me on the boat in Tevinter, it never even crossed my mind."

Almost without meaning to, he brought her right hand to his heart, his fingers tightening over hers. She lay her head on his shoulder as he pulled her closer, a solid weight against him. A comfort, for the first time in his life.

"He's better than I thought," he said, absently resting his cheek against her head. Her hair smelled of lightning, and a faint, almost unnoticeable trace of honey. "Maybe there is hope for him yet."

She snorted a soft laugh through her nose, making him grin. It vanished quickly, though.

"But this wasn't a mercy. Being watched by all the Crows, with their knives out? He will never live down being the Traitor Crow, brought down in front of everyone. There is nowhere he can run."

"I was surprised you listened to me," she said. He felt her breath tickle his neck, involuntarily clutched her closer against him.

"So was I," he said. "But... I don't have a lot to lose. What there is... Caterina, this team... you, even my idiot cousin. I'm not giving that up."

She stopped moving, lifting her head up to look at him. She wore the softest smile he'd ever seen on her face.

"What's that look?"

"You have a big heart," she said softly, "For an assassin."

He tried to look away at the tone of her voice, at the emotion in it, but she gently turned his face toward her again.

"That's not a bad thing," she said.

"If it brought me here," he said, taking her hand again and kissing it on a whim, "To this moment with you, then it cannot be a bad thing. I just... I cannot believe he would do all of this, only to be First Talon."

She frowned up at him.

"He said you didn't want to be First Talon."

"I don't. But how am I supposed to trust him with it now? How is anyone? The funny thing is, he might have finally proven he has the abillity for it."

"Right before getting humilliated in front of everyone," she said, grinning slightly.

"Exactly."

He sighed, though it came out as more of a frustrated growl.

"Fucking Illario."

"Hey," she said, gently reaching up and smoothing out the crease between his brows. The gesture made his chest ache.

"We'll work it out," she said softly. "Together. But for now... "

He took her hand again, holding it to his chest so she could feel his heartbeat.

"Just be here with me," she said. "Just for a little while."

"I can do that," he said. "For a little while."

She smiled, and he could see the day was starting to get to her, the tiredness starting to reach her eyes.

"Rook..." he started, not sure what he was going to say, but needing to say something before his chest caved in on itsself. She cut him off before he could.

"Shhhh," she said gently, kissing him for a long moment before laying her head back on his shoulder. He forgot, sometimes, that he could kiss her. Usually, Spite was there to remind him, with enthusiasm. It scared him, how much he ached to feel her lips against his own.

"Don't ruin it."

So he held her close, and kissed her forehead, and later he let her fall asleep on his lap in the chair, savouring the way she held on to his hand even in sleep, and finally letting his fingers run through her hair, softer than silk against his skin.

[saintsbuffy]

You’re an angel, i’m a dog.

Pairing: Lucanis/Rook Lucanis/Rook/Spite

TW: injury detail, sexual references, references to abuse, ptsd and depression.

Word count: around 3000

Chapter: 1/?

1 - MIDNIGHTS

— Rook finds herself unable to sleep, Lucanis is always awake.

It’s midnight in the lighthouse when Rook is wakes. Her deep breaths and rapid heartbeat fill the silent chamber as she places one hand to her damp chest whilst the other clutches a dagger from beneath her pillow.

With a final shaken breath as her body comes to full consciousness she pushes herself up off the sweat soaked sheets and tosses them into a pile in the corner along with her loose bed shirt. Moonlight reflects off the stone walls and it shines through the stone cracks and under the curtain of her balcony window.

You are alive, you are safe, you are not alone.

Rook repeats to herself, a phrase in broken Dalish that has brought her comfort since she was a babe.

Her voice hardly a whisper as the wind begins to howl. A clash of thunder groans against the stone as the wind picks up. Another clash, and this time it’s accompanied by a downpour of rain that blows the balcony doors open in a flash, dark blue drapes flying out towards her as the glass and metal bangs against the wall. Without thinking Rook is across the room in one swift movement pushing her entire strength against the doors and she plants her feet firmly against the cold stone fighting the wind until it the force of her body is enough to hold them closed. She fumbles with the dagger letting her hand fall for just one moment until she can secure it through the two handles.

A faint caress of pain beings to bloom at her side as she pulls back from the door and lets out a string of curse words inspecting the temporary fix. The doors appear to hold - only rattling slightly against the floor to ceiling glass as the storm continues on. The first flash of lighting illuminates her room for one swift moment as Rook closes her eyes and holds her hand out willing the storm to stop. Her naked body illuminated by light, she feels the familiar burning sensation followed by warmth as power hums beneath her skin.

Once, she could bend the elements to her will without so much as a second thought but tonight she is begging them to listen, praying to the gods that the storm spare the building she has come to call home.

It had been three months since she’d left the only place she’d ever known. All it had taken was one mistake, one moment where she had lost control and her entire life had changed in a night. Stormborn her mentor had called her, daughter of the sky. The Grey Wardens had raised Rook, fed her, adored her, given her a roof over her head and sword in her hand. She’d been taught how to hunt, fight, kill.

They had taken her in for no burden but their own, a child less than a few weeks old, alone and half frozen to death found in the rubble of an Elven village. It hadn’t taken long for them to recognise the power she had been born with, not only had they found a child with no family or allegiance to mould into whatever they desired but they had found a weapon.

The Wardens had used her to their advantage, honed her powers when it suited them and cast her out when they could no longer control her. She was so young when they had first taken her out on a mission, keeping her at arms length and under close control as she had given instructions. They had watched in awe as the rain choked their enemies.

Finally the burning in her fingertips dulled as the rain began to calm, the pounding noise of droplets against glass now a steady drum instead of a raging fist. Tonight the elements had given her grace, a compromise of the destruction her nightmares often brought.

There would be no more sleep for Rook tonight.

She dressed quickly in an oversized black shirt, fingers too weak to tie the front. Without an undershirt or armour to keep it in place the lace hangs open just above her breasts. She pulls on some loose trousers a few shades lighter than her shirt and a pair of beaten lace up boots slowly as her head throbs. The cloth bandages wrapped around her ribs have held at least, lifting her shirt slightly to check, she can see in the fading light the wound at her side appears to have just strained against her stitches and not ripped open.

The hallway outside her chambers is empty as to be expected, initially she had chosen the room furthest away from everyone in the hopes of keeping her nightmares - and the damage that usually came with them as far away from her companions as possible. Varric was the only one fully aware of her situation, he knew what she had done and had made a deal with the Wardens, most likely saving her from a life of exile or worse. The last thing she needed was to have another group of people fearing her. Though no matter how much time she had spent trying to get to know her companions - some more than others she had come to realise that everyone had their own reasons for being here and their own secrets to keep.

Using the remainder of her strength she manifests a flickering ball of white energy that floats above her palm to light the way. Rook makes her way down the winding halls and staircases that separate her rooms from the heart of the Lighthouse. With no direction in mind she lets her body choose which turn to take, passing the library and the dining hall, the training room and observatory until she has passed all that is familiar to her.

Theres a slight change in scenery as the walls become older, full of more crumbling brick and walls bare of decoration. If her memory of the tour she was given is correct this must be one of the lower levels where those who live and work in the lighthouse slept, and faint chatter of hushed whispers and snoring flows through the walls, doors lining each side as she continues her exploration trying her best to keep her footsteps light as she turns down each path refusing to admit that despite knowing pretty much all of the upper levels of the Lighthouse by heart now - she might be a little bit lost.

Up and then back down another staircase she moves trying to retrace her steps, legs sore and muscles aching until finally she faced a dead end and a singular door at the centre of it. The door itself is small and unassuming - some sort of storage cupboard if she had to guess, with no desire to investigate further Rook turns to go back as the orb of light in her palm begins to vibrate her power humming in alarm. With a snap of electricity and faint sliver of purple smoke her light is gone leaving her in almost complete darkness.

Rook’s hand drops to the waistband of her trousers expecting to find the familiar metal of her dagger at her side only feel the empty space and memory she had left it behind to secure her windows shut. The only light in the corridor is a faint glow seeping out from underneath the door that stands before her accompanied by the faint sound of metal clinking and something fizzing.

Shit.

With no weapons and magic that refuses to obey her at least she can always count on her firsts and years of gets training for protection, even if her body feels like it could keel over at any second.

She clenches her fists by her sides and takes two strides towards the door before kicking it open letting the wood splinter as it swings hitting the back wall with a crash. Upon first glance she has entered nothing more than a storage closet but as her entrance into the room deepens the glamour begins to fade away revealing that this was or is some sort of living quarter or study.

Her eyes adjust to the low light as her vision darts around to take in any threat that could be waiting for her. Stacks of books line shelves that looked like they might collapse at any moment, candles are piled upon trays covered dripping wax that are awkwardly balanced on top of old food crates, a large table is at the centre of the room with glass vails and bottles of varying sizes and colours scattered across the stained wood.

Her inspection of the room is cut short as the sound of glass breaking followed by a grunt that tears her gaze away from her quick inspection. The glamour is completely gone now and a person draped in shadows is silhouetted at the other end of the room. From the noise they just let out and the lack of urgency in their movement it seems they are more irritated than alarmed by her abrupt entrance. Her light going out must’ve activated some sort of warning barrier.

Back hunched over his desk- half seated half standing against a patchy velvet armchair is Lucanis Dellamorte, the Antivan Crow they had recruited only a weeks after Rook had first been brought here.

“Do you kick down the door of every room you enter?” He grunts not giving Rook a chance to answer or even taking his gaze off the pages covering the table infront of him. “You owe me a new door.” Lucanis’ adds eyes snapping up from his work.

Brows furrowed and black eyes narrow Lucanis glares up as he throws down the remainder of his broken glass jar, it smashes into tiny shards on the table as the rest of the black liquid bubbles and hisses until all that remains is a mark singed into the wooden table. The smell of sulphur thick in the air.

“I-“ Rook starts an apology on the tip of her tongue and yet as usual her stubbornness is pushed to the surface. “How did you do that? My magic, it’s like I hit a wall in the corridor and it just…it just stopped.”

Her tone more an accusation than a question, nobody had ever been able to stop her magic like that before, she could barley manage it herself.

Lucanis heaves a breath of annoyance and pushes his hands off the table to stand, flipping over the book to a close before facing her. She can’t see his face but takes in the old shirt, fitted trousers, tan skin and messy hair tied back from his face. A contrast to his usual attire.

“I was in the middle of something if you couldn’t tell, why are you in my room?” Sleeves rolled up his forearms and fingertips stained with the same black powder from his shirt he gestures from the mess on the table to Rook standing in the open doorway. The frustration is clear on his face now, from his clenched jaw to the sideways look of disgust and those dark rimmed eyes.

“You sleep here.” Rook states looking behind him to a sad looking cot bed pushed up against the wall covered with a thin blanket and one flat looking pillow that she was certain was just a pile of rolled up clothes. Lucanis crossed his arms in response. “Like I mean, this is your bedroom?”

Come to think of it, out of all her companions she had never questioned where Lucanis spends his personal time nor did she care. At social gatherings he was always last to arrive, first to leave, only concerning himself with short pleasantries and small talk. Occasionally discussing books with Emmrich in a corner. She couldn’t count the number times she’d gone for Tea in Neve’s quarters or walked around the grounds with Davrin, everyone had welcomed her to her new home with open arms but she’d never even considered where Lucanis might sleep or do whatever it is that he does when everyone goes their separate ways.

There’s no answer again, he just continues to glare at her looking right through her the way he has since they first met. In all the time they’ve worked together, trained together, searched for information and slain enemies over the past months she’s sure those two sentences are probably the most conversation they’ve since their very first meeting when he essentially called her an insolent child and refused her help. If it hadn’t been for the others she was sure he would have never have agreed to come back with her.

“It’s just-“

Rook pauses choosing her next words carefully, suddenly aware she is in his space, has disturbed whatever he had been working on and practically kicked his door down for no reason.

This Lighthouse was supposed to be her fresh start and so far all she’s managed to do was blow up a few enemy hideouts, not get her new companions killed, yet and piss off the guy that’s possessed by a demon.

“There’s plenty of empty rooms, why do you choose to stay down here? I mean even Emmerich has his own quarters and he’s got like bones and stuff everywhere but in a decorative way and Taash has the most comfortable bed-“ She gestures to cot in the corner trying to keep the judgement in her tone to a minimum, desperate to fill the silence.

“I do not care who’s bed you spend your free time in.” He scoffs running a hand down his face. “That’s not what I meant.” Rook can feel her cheeks heat slightly, thankful for the low lighting. “You are not the only one who wishes to sleep alone, Rook.” His accent sounds thicker when he’s annoyed, the way he says her nickname sounds like poison upon his tongue.

Rook feels her chest tighten, she shouldn’t be here, she should’ve left the moment she realised this was his room. Turning back to inspect the damage of the door she pulls down the sleeves of her shirt suddenly conscious about her lack of dress, her long hair that’s that’s come free from its braid and no doubt the exhaustion and embarrassment that’s clear on her face. “My apologises, i’ll leave.”

“Wait.” Lucanis orders, she can hear him walking towards her but he does not close the distance all the way.

A flick of his wrist, and the same smoke from before blows past her moving her hair over her shoulder as it slams the door shut with force but the lock does not latch.

“You know, your room is almost directly above mine spare the space of a few floors.” Lucanis is almost directly behind her now but leaves enough distance so that she is just beyond arms reach. She can feel his breath on her bare neck as the scent of smoke and coffee grows stronger.

Rooks breathing becomes shallow once again, she’s not afraid of him despite every one of her senses screaming at her telling her to leave, to run. If not fear pushing against her ribs then anticipation? shame? She’s exposed here, her mind is going too fast to understand what her instincts are trying to tell her. He’s powerful, with years of experience on her, it came down to it Rook knows she stands no chance against him especially not after the week she’s had.

They work together, of course he has no reason to want to hurt her. Other than the title of Mage Killer that makes her skin crawl every-time she hears it. The man has had more than one chance to kill her if he wished, just two days ago an accident in battle ended up with her in the infirmary. She was too focused on clearing the bridge so the villages to flee that she hadn’t seen the creature watching from the tree, if the arrow in her side had been poison it could have ended her. Death would be too easy for the assassin. She was just a girl after all, a reckless failure. Nobody would miss her.

“Your little storms are rather impressive no? It shook almost the entire building tonight.” He raises a brow watching her back stiffen but she doesn’t move away from him. “You are very powerful.”

The way he says that last sentence makes her body still, her hand still outstretched to where the door where the handle would’ve been. There’s no fear in his tone when he says it, no disgust or anger, no awe or compliment, just fact. You are very powerful. She was.

“I’m sorry if I woke you, but I really should be going.” Rook snaps back to reality a single glance back at him before moving to make her exit.

Lucanis considers letting her go, but there’s something about this girl that goes against his everything he has even known, he kills her kind of a living and yet. There’s something deep in his bones calling for him to make her stay. She is like him, an outcast amongst her own people, surrounded by friends and yet utterly alone. The hairs on his arms come to a stand as he feels the familiar presence at his side. A cold gust of air fills the room as the candle light flickers. Jaw clenched, nails digging into his palms Lucanis knows there is no fighting this when it comes. It was painful the first time but the ripping sensation in his chest comes easier than breathing now.

“I do not sleep well either, stay.”

When Lucanis speaks, his voice is not his own for his demon self has returned and in truth, Spite never left.

end chapter notes -

Rook is a femme presenting Grey Warden Mage cast out from her people. In this fic I use she/her pronouns but i’m trying to keep them as non descriptive as possible, feel free to imagine Rook as you wish. This is written before game release some things may contain potential spoilers, non canon events, i will try my best not to mischaracterise him.

you can find this story on ao3 linked below or follow me on twitter @/saintscain for updates and more lucanis brainrot posts

[forestsunglasses]

Relationships: Lucanis Dellamorte/Rook, Viago de Riva/Rook, Lucanis Dellamorte/Viago de Riva, Lucanis Dellamorte/Viago de Riva/Rook

Warnings : Rook is dealing with C-PTSD, mental health issues. Implied/referenced self-harm, mentioned medical trauma, intimacy issues. Feel free to check all the additional tags on the ao3 version !

Summary:

Rook, previously named Dawn de Riva, has always kept her composure pristine. Taught to be strong at a young age by her mentor turned colleague, Viago de Riva, she is used to never show her weaknesses. Unfortunately for her, once the gods are deafeated and her contract is fullfilled, she realizes that she is dangerously bordering on the edge of falling apart. As she tiptoes around her blossoming romance with Lucanis Dellamorte, The Demon of Vyrantium, she founds herself bound by years of trauma that are catching up to her. She learns how to be herself again, eventually, and discovers what life truly has to offer beyond the dark and the grim.

Chapter 1 : Another contract

It’s during dinner that she feels the first pang of panic in her chest. They are all assembled in the dining hall of the Lighthouse, sharing a well-deserved moment of peace after weeks and weeks of hard battle and planning. Tomorrow, they will put away their belongings and depart. Neve has planned to help reconstruct Minrathous as soon as possible, and Bellara, as loyal as ever, having found a new love in the arms of the charming mage detective, accompanies her. Davrin is determined to help Assan and the other griffons adapt to Arlathan’s forest. To say goodbye, at least for some time. Emmerich, in hopes of talking with Strife, has agreed beforehand to go with the Warden. Taash said she would ‘hang out’ with Isabela and help in the Hall of Glory for a while. Lucanis needs to prepare his next position as First Talon. Harding…Well, Harding is gone. Dead. Rook knows that very well. There is no reason to believe otherwise, to try to convince herself that she is still alive, because she has seen her die. Rook knows that Solas isn’t there anymore. Sh knows that he can’t pull a Varric move on her again, to try to make her see a flesh and blood Harding when her dwarf friend isn’t even there. After all, he doesn't need to. The gods have been defeated.

The fight is over. They came out victorious, and Solas has gone through the Veil with the Inquisitor. Rook should have been calm. Sad and torn apart by grief, yes, but not on the brink of a panic attack.

The weight of leadership that has strained her shoulders for months is just starting to alleviate. Not that she didn’t like her role as a leader. But during all this time, she had to put a lot aside to make sure their mission succeeded. Her own emotions, her own worries. It had always been kind of like this with the Crows, but not with such high stakes. In any case, the job was done. Contract fulfilled, as she would often say to Viago.

It's no wonder then that she freezes when a plate of bean casserole stew is being placed in front of her. She grips her fork, her knuckles a shade of white death. Looks at her plate. The voices of her companions, engaging in sparse discussion, come to her ears from far, very far away. Glad to be victorious, but tinted with the obvious strain of grief and exhaustion. She barely notices it. Doesn’t listen.

Rook was never really good at regular stuff outside of contracts. Enjoying the moments of peace. She doesn’t know if she’ll ever be able to find herself. To have the strength to get back to herself. Contracts had kept her alive. But after that, she feels different.

It's as she took a way to strong, way to effective kind of drug. Avoiding herself had been made so, so much easier. Now that the fight is over, it's another piece of cake. The moment Solas disappeared through the Veil, an icy fear had started to pervade her. An intuition. The knowledge that, after such a big job, the contracts will not be able to keep her afloat anymore.

She knows then that she has to leave the dining hall. Go to the main building. Take the stairs. Go back to her room. The steps present themselves clearly in her mind, and it’s all she can hang onto to not break down right then and there. She focuses her mind on it. She knows that from the outside, her composure is perfectly smooth. Or as good as can be. She has been trained well.

She stands up and mutters that she has some small business she forgot to attend to, that she’ll be back soon. She doesn’t pay attention to their reaction. Most swallow up the lie like it’s honey. However, Neve looks nonplussed. And a light of alarm immediately goes off in Lucanis’ head. He feels Spite rouse inside him.

When Rook reaches the entrance, she is interrupted by the opening of the door. She almost rushes, nodding in distracted acknowledgment.

“Viago.” she salutes her superior before passing through.

The door shuts close.

“What’s the matter with her?” asks the Fifth Talon.

“I’ll go.” Lucanis says, already standing.

Viago nods. Rook has always been strong. He had taught her how to master one’s composure, how to never let one’s weaknesses show. But that, that’s new. The look on her face that he saw as he was entering the place. Not good. Not one bit.

Soon enough, the door opens again and Teia follows him into the dining hall.

“What’s with Rook ? ” she asks. “She looked…”

“I thought the same," Viago answers.

He doesn’t say the rest out loud, but Teia understands it : this doesn’t look good. As usual, Viago doesn't dwell on things. He clears up his throat.

“For the final arrangements,” he says to the rest of the team. “Neve, we have gathered Crow forces to help with Minrathous.”

~~~

Rook is shaking. She scolds herself for being this way. This isn’t supposed to happen. She’s supposed to deal with stuff in a normal way. Not crumble at the first opportunity, or whatever the hell this is.

She takes gulps of air but that doesn’t seem to help.

She knows, acknowledges her situation from a distance.

“Rook ?”

 Shit.

Lucanis' voice is worried. She hears him approaching carefully, coming to a halt almost behind her. She sees him crouch from the corner of her eye. Her mouth opens, but only a few ragged breaths come out of it.

“Rook, look at me.”

She barely manages to do that. His hand comes to support her chin, lifting it gently towards him. Helping her look at him.

“Breathe. That’s it. In, and out,” he demonstrates.

Tears well up in her eyes. Gods, he can’t see her like this.

“Come back to me, Rook. I know you can do this.”

She follows his movements, the way he shows her how to breathe. When she gets there, she finally manages to speak.

“I’m sorry.”

Lucanis shushes her.

“No apologies, just breathe. I’ve got you.”

She lets herself go slack in his arms. He holds her. His warmth immediately envelopes her, and the cold ice stone under them is left nothing more than a detail. Time passes.

“I’ve never seen you like this, Rook. What is it?”

She doesn’t even know what to say. How to explain it. If there’s even something to explain, at all. Everything is all scrambled up in her brain. When she feels his fingers graze against her scalp, she closes her eyes. Her head is shaved, there’s not a strand of hair on it, but she still feels the pleasurable shivers when he passes his nails along her buzzcut.

“I don’t…I’m not like…”

His fingers pause, then resume their grazing.

“I have these moments, sometimes. I always make sure no one sees.”

Against her, Lucanis doesn’t move, providing a welcoming support for her.

“I never…It never happened like that. I always had things under control, or I dealt with it privately.”

“Until now,” concludes Lucanis. “Something is eating at your mind.”

She turns to dive into his deep, lovely brown eyes.

“What happened with the Antaams before I took this job is still not forgotten. I don’t know where to go from there. I still have to stay low for a while, and that’s okay, but…”

She doesn’t finish her sentence.

“We killed gods, Rook. You made it happen," Lucanis expression is focused on her, full of...what, pride ? "Why would the Crows continue to keep you at an arm’s length ? You’re not fired. If anything, you deserve a raise.”

She laughs at his words.

“You know it’s not like that.”

“It can be.”

He doesn’t say it, but she understands the meaning behind it. He’s First Talon. He won’t let her be cast aside.

“Do you remember what I told you? As long as my duties don’t call to me yet, I’ll be by your side. And even then, I’ll always be by your side.”

Rook smiles.

“I don’t deserve you.”

“I don’t deserve you.”

“Alright, lovers,” suddenly interrupts Viago’s voice.

They turn towards the Fifth Talon, now standing at the entrance of Rook’s room. Lucanis reprimands himself for not closing the door sooner.

We’re not…Rook wants to protest, but she stops herself. She has a very specific point of view concerning these things. Of course, she loves Lucanis. She would die for him. And she knows that Lucanis loves her too. Unfortunately, there’s a limit that she cannot allow herself to cross. The night they shared together, before the final fight with Elgar’nan, could have been a night of…well, something more. But Lucanis had noticed her reluctance, and they had just made out and enjoyed each other’s company, hoping to still be alive at the end of all of this. She still doesn’t know how he feels about it.

“We have a meeting tomorrow with some of the houses. I’ll expect you there,” Viago adds, interrupting her train of thoughts.

Her mind grows calmer again. She processes the information. He doesn’t need to specify the place. The Cantori Diamond.

“And, Rook?” he adds. “You should go see a healer.”

She nods distractedly.

“Thanks, Viago?”

She knows she won’t take his advice. She has bad history with healers in general.

~~~

When she first shaved her head, Rook was fourteen. She never liked her strawberry blond curls. Not that they were ugly, but it didn’t match with her. She always had them at about chin’s length, long enough to cover her cheeks and maybe a part of her neck, but never more than that.

It hadn’t been a long time since she was taken in by the Crows. She still went by the name of Dawn. The training had been hard that day, and that was the first time that she felt that something in her was amiss. Not quite exactly right. That night, when she looked into the small wobbly mirror beside her bed, she couldn’t stand to look at her hair anymore.

The first try had been terrible. She’d ended up with splotches of hair scattered all around her partially shaved skull. When Teia had saw the mess she’d made of her head, she’d let out an exclamation of shock. The young woman had helped the girl get rid of the irregularities and had managed to give her a nice, presentable buzzcut. Upon seeing Dawn like this, Viago had raised a brow but hadn’t done anything besides giving her a small nod of encouragement.

Now, quite advanced into her twenties, Rook has kept up with this haircut. Although some of her battle scars extend to her scalp in quite a visible way, she is happy with it. Content. She may always have been kind of lost, but this, she has always been sure of it.

~~~

It’s a bit hard to wake up the next morning, but at least she has something to do : to assist a meeting. A smooth wave of reassurance washes over her as she gets ready to go to Treviso. Lucanis is behind her when they pass through the Eluvian, and Rook can’t help but flash a smile at him when they arrive in their city.

“Good to be home?” Lucanis says with a glint of adoration in his eyes.

She nods, humming the air. Cobblestone, dewy ivy, wood. Floral scents from the bushes nearby. The smell of the night is still lingering.

“Good to be home,” she confirms.

They get to the Diamond without waiting any further. When they enter the meeting room, a space adjacent to the main hall, everyone seems to be already there. Heir, sat next to an expectant Jacobus, gives a polite nod to Rook. Part of De Riva’s house is there as well, some sat on chairs around the big stone table coming up from the ground, others standing on the sides, leaning on the wall. Teia and Viago are waiting right next to the entrance.

Rook cannot escape the look Viago gives her. It’s a blue, ice, cold color. Even though she knows there’s a question in there, she doesn’t try to decipher it further. She’s not in the same state as she was in the last evening. She’s okay and functional now. Let’s get to it.

“Everyone is there,” Viago says, looking at both Rook and Lucanis this time.

Rook knows that look. It’s an easy one: you’re late. Weirdly enough, for a strictly-trained assassin, she sometimes manages to not arrive in time for things. She holds her smirk in. Teia’s voice comes cutting through, diving straight into the subject.

“Although Treviso has been badly affected by the Antaams and Ghilan’nain archdemon, Minrathous needs some more help rebuilding. As you all know, we have gathered a team for this. House de Riva and part of my house will be sent there.”

“Will there be operations in Treviso?” Jacobus asks.

“Of course,” Viago answers. “But we must be a bit more careful there. What’s left of the Antaam army will not go down smoothly. They’ve got their own network. We’re working on a plan.”

“This meeting is for the distribution of contracts,” Teia adds, retrieving a pile of parchments from under a small desk. “All of the previously appointed Crows from House De Riva, here.” She places a smaller pile of paper on the table. The Crows serve themselves. “House Cantori : Egoram, here is the quarter of the town that you're attached to. Take the trainees with you.”

“Maggie, you’ll go to Dock Town. You’ll find Neve Gallus there. Tina and Gregor, at the frontier.”

"Yrina, you’ll make rounds around the Cobbled Swan in search for any Venatori strays. I’ve heard some of them have found a hiding amongst bards and artists.”

Jacobus scoffs, quickly masking his laugh as a raspy cough.

Teia continues to distribute the papers until there’s none left. Heir and Jacobus are assigned to Treviso, which makes the young boy almost complain. He really wanted to travel to Minrathous.

"Jacobus Egrativi," Heir gently scolds as they stand up.

“That leaves us with the both of you,” Viago says, turning to Rook and Lucanis.

Rook is glad that the panic doesn’t knock at her ribcage when she hears it. No need to worry. You will have a contract. You will get busy.

“Obviously, I guess that you have some updating to do with your family, now, Lucanis. You’re First Talon, after all.”

Rook looks at Lucanis. His silky, raven hair shines under the oil lamps. For a moment she almost forgets herself, lost in the admiration of his smooth locks. She looks away, trying to push down the newly arisen thoughts. He’s beautiful. Hot. Kind. That big pleading look he gives me sometimes? Fuck. She shakes her head.

“Rook ?” Teia says.

Her head almost snaps back up, but she controls the movement just in time. She has been lost in thought regarding Minrathous and Treviso, obviously. Not thinking about Lucanis, at all. She was simply planning their next course of action. Not basking in his scent of coffee, and berries, and…

“We think it better for you to stay here a while,” Teia informs her cautiously.

The rest of the Crows are gone. They’re the only four left. At Teia’s call, Rook arches a brow. She resists the urge to scratch her neck in confusion.

“What do you mean?”

“Here, in Treviso,” Viago specifies while closing the door. “Unless you still have matters to attend to with your team.”

“No, I don’t.”

She’s surprised the topic is even broached.

“Perfect,” he responds.

“What do you need me for, exactly? Am I allowed to retire?” she says with a smirk, knowing full well how Viago will react.

“No, Idiot. It’s a surveillance mission.”

“Okay. What is it?”

There’s a pause, almost imperceptible. But Viago continues:

“You must be prepared. Let me warn you…”

“Viago is worried,” Teia interjects, a smile on her lips. “He didn’t want you to take the job at first.”

Viago gives Teia a bad look.

“Worried? Damn, Viago, that’s not like you,” Rook says, hands on her hips.

“Take this seriously! That’s not me personally worrying over you. It’s way bigger than that. If you don’t do this correctly, the Crows could take a blow to their side.”

Rook isn’t convinced. She catches Lucanis from the corner of her eye: he’s just as confused as her.

“Not to sound arrogant, but we just killed gods,” she says. “I’m sure your new contract will be in reach of my abilities.”

Teia and Viago share a look. Oh-oh. Rook falters.

“Okay, get it out,” Lucanis intervenes. “What is it?”

It almost seems like Viago doesn’t want to open his mouth and say the words. When Teia finally speaks, giving him the chance to stay silent, Rook doesn’t register the words at first. Lucanis places a warm hand on her shoulder.

Levito’s Healing House. Levito’s Healing House. Levito’s…Healing…House. You must investigate around Levito’s Healing House. That’s the name. She hears it, reverberating in her skull, jumping around like a rubberball. Levito’s Healing House. They’re planning something. It’s our chance to root them out of the city for good, but we must have someone investigating around here first.

Rook doesn’t let herself stumble in front of them.

“Why?” she asks, gaze lost in front of her. “Do you need me to infiltrate the place as a spy?”

“No,” Viago reassures her. “Not to that extent. Just observing from afar. Gather information. As I’ve taught you.”

Even though she’s relieved at hearing she won’t have to go back inside this…thing, her throat locks.

“Why me?” she asks.

Her voice is neutral. Not a shake in it.

“Viago thought you’d be the best suited for it, in the end. You have...history, back there.”

Teia looks sorry as she says it. Rook glances furiously at her mentor.

“What? And you don’t even want to tell me yourself? Teia has to be the one saying it? She just said you didn’t want me to take the job!”

“Rook…” pleads Teia. “We’ve tried to find someone, but we know it will be fruitless if it isn’t someone who knows their way of operating.”

Rook takes a deep breath, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“So, observing.”

“Yes.” Viago nods. “Rook, I need you to confirm to me that you will not get into this personally. As I said, if you do something rash, I don’t know if the Crows will be as forgiving as they were with your little run-in with the Antaam.”

She nods.

“I need words.” Viago adds sternly.

Rook raises her head to plunge her eyes in his. Ice, blue, cold. Fresh snow. Cooling.

“Okay.”

“Did I miss something?” Lucanis asks.

“It’s Rook’s story to tell,” answers Viago.

“Do you know what Levito’s Healing House is?” Rook asks him.

“I…vaguely remember. It’s a place of healing.” Viago rolls his eyes. Lucanis feels Spite snicker inside of him. “For matters of the mind, as they say themselves,” he adds.

Rook nods.

“Well, I was in there for a part of my childhood. Don’t remember it a lot, but what I remember is…not good.”

“They don’t do healing, obviously.” Teia says, her mouth a crisp line.

Lucanis doesn’t need to ask further details. He knows, now, he remembers, the whispers about the place. This shady mental institution in Treviso. The kids who manage to escape from there, the things they manage to tell, if they're not rendered mute from traumatism.

“You told me about it, once, after Weisshaupt” he says, thoughtful. “That you grew up in this sort of place.”

Rook nods.

“Not for all my life, but yes.”

He wants to know what happened to her in there, but he knows it's not the right time for this.

“You have all my support, in whatever you do, Rook. Remember that.”

“Thank you,” she manages to smile.

Her hand comes to find his, and squeezes. He can see the way her jaw untightens at the contact. He squeezes back.

When they leave, Teia turns to Viago.

“She took this surprisingly well. I mean, she seemed a bit stunned, but that’s to be expected. What do you think of it?”

“Her reaction?” says Viago. “She’s obviously bluffing. But I’ll take her word on this. I trust her.”

“So you think she will take it upon herself? If she’s bluffing, that means she’s affected.”

“She will. She’s strong like that, Teia.”

A pause.

“I know.”

They look at each other, Teia almost reaching to caress Viago’s wrist. He doesn’t seem disturbed, but she notices how he’s still a little bit paler than usual.

[ollypopwrites]

May Our Demons Dance ; Chapter 5

May Our Demons Dance (28967 words) by ollypopp Chapters: 5/? Fandom: Dragon Age: The Veilguard Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Lucanis Dellamorte/Female Rook Tags: Eventual Smut, Slow Burn, Mostly Canon Compliant, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Fantasizing, Masturbation, Friendship, Found Famliy, Hurt/Comfort, Blood and Gore, no beta we die like - i can't even type it, no neve slander we love neve in this house, Angst Chapter Summary: The look of hurt at the rejection on her face burned into his mind. It was better than her ending up dead, or hollowed out by the fact he was always, always going to be at war with Spite. She was the hope of their team, the warm hearth they all gathered around,  and he was not more than a sentient knife leaving a trail of bodies. His contracts, his family — it would be too cruel to add her to the list of casualties that he could never avoid.  ‘You promised,’ Spite said, ‘we break our chains. We live . ’ Lucanis shut the doors. Spite raged. He ended up with a bloody nose.  Things were back to normal.

New chap! They might come a little slower now, because I did have to put a fire under my ass and start working on original stuff as well. But I am excited about the ideas I have for this story, so thanks for coming along with me.

[ellstersmash]

things i learned today:

solas could've avoided this whole mess and probably had enough free time to take lavellan on a nice little date if he just took up archdemon hunting instead of all the rituals and the other dastardly deeds

lucanis won't romance rook if they go to minrathous but will romance neve because despite saying he's cool, he's not cool

everyone's nice and no one has slaves or anything because *checks forearm* the blight

all your companions get along with you and each other because also the blight

even though he's like, really manipulative and uses people all the time, solas accumulated but then gave up an entire army's worth of spies and agents because he decided he wasn't ready for a management position

red lyrium isn't really around because—and you are not gonna believe this—the blight

solas just lies. all the time, outright, to everyone. so I guess he was actually only super careful to not ever actively lie in Inquisition as like a fun little challenge to himself

tying the veil to his life force (you know, the guy who couldn't even take down an archdemon on his own and actually just got his ass beat so is not in great shape in the best ending) fully repaired the veil! \o/ don't ask how you wouldn't understand it it's not a big—

everyone near minrathous is cured of the blight! but @ everyone else you may be entitled to compensation 🥀

the only ritual solas has ever gotten or will ever get right is cleansing the idol into the ritual dagger. good thing too bc it was way more dangerous than this one. other than that, wrong about everything ever

elven magic is like not that big a deal, dude

the griffons are, unfortunately, long-term fucked

the elves don't see the crossroads differently anymore because uh.. because....... war

spite does not get involved in rookanis sexytimes. so perhaps him spreading his wings was actually just in preparation to leave bc ew they're kissing gross

NO ONE cares about the goddamn spirits

[housederiva]

I’m in tears

Edit: the tears have increased

[ellie-writes-games]

Spite Wants To Set A Flame

Lucanis (and by extension, Spite) have been helping Bellara with her romance novel. Flowery language and smut metaphors lead Spite to some surprising conclusions.

╔══════════════════════════════════════════╗ prev Part 8 of Burn After Reading banter series next ╚══════════════════════════════════════════╝ Enjoying my work? You can leave me a tip on Ko-Fi | Have a request? Part of an on-going series of fan-writings. See the full Masterlist here.

As someone on the autism spectrum, I remember struggling with interpreting metaphor as a young person A LOT. As soon as it was introduced in Veilguard that Bellara was writing some smutty fanfiction, the first thoughts I had were "Oh, the neurospicy gang is gonna struggle." (Mainly Taash and Spite.)

This is fanfiction written by me, @ellie-writes-games. These are NOT actual screenshots from the game. Peace, love, and mad props to the DA writers.

[antivanlights]

After their fight against the gods is done, after the Veil is once again secured, I imagine Rook wanting to do something for Lucanis - something special. Especially since they finally can. After much deliberation (approximately 15 seconds and a side glance at the wyvern-tooth dagger sitting carefully on Lucanis' night stand), Rook has a wyvern-spotting adventure planned. A bag sits ready with camping gear, food rations, a wyvern species encyclopedia, a journal and all the art supplies they could find within a few hours.

Convincing Lucanis takes less than a minute, and the next thing they know, they’re hiking across the Orlesian wilderness.

The first wyvern they spot will be permanently engraved into Rook’s memory – whether that’s from the beast’s presence or from Lucanis’ reaction is up for debate (is it really, though?). Regardless, Rook will inevitably become an expert on that particular species of wyvern.

“Rook!” “Rook.” RookRookRook, look!” “ROOK.” They swear that last one was Spite, but Lucanis calls out them every few minutes during their adventure, each time a wyvern so much as blinks funny. There, Rook is witness to one of the biggest (and longest-lasting) grins Lucanis has ever displayed. Eyes bright, body practically buzzing with excitement as they crouch behind cover. Rook doesn’t know if anything can beat the feeling pounding at their chest.

Rook reaches an important conclusion, they fucking love wyverns.

[ibahibut]

💀: Fewer wounds, more kisses from me.

🐦‍⬛: Contract's accepted, mi amor.

Music inspiration: A Little Death by The Neighbourhood

[wabart]

Flirtation so surprising it turned down his graphics settings

Image 1: A sketch of Lucanis saying to Rook, "I did not know you were such a romantic."

Image 2: Rook says to Lucanis "You bring it out in me."

[thelibrarian1895]

For your consideration

Lucanis proposes to a Mourn Watch Rook, Caterina even gave him the opal ring for the proposal since someone who killed one of the elven gods could be arguably acceptable for her grandson.

Probably

Then it's time to plan the wedding and I would like to offer the idea that Caterina and Teia who, upon learning that Rook has no living parents and was, in fact, found in a crypt in the Necropolis by the undead, might come to the conclusion that since there are no other parental figures involved, they will have full control over the wedding planning as they are grandmother of the groom and groom's basically sister with some input from Rook and Lucanis of course.

Except no

Vorgoth appears in the room that Caterina has dedicated to wedding planning. Vorgoth is there to make sure that the Nevarran and Mourn Watch traditions are also respected. Plus this is their little crypt baby who's all grown up and getting married! Myrna comes in shortly afterwards, it takes her a little longer to travel than it does Vorgoth and now Teia has the bride's basically sister to debate with.

Debates over whether or not skeletons should be ushers or not, picking over every name on the guest list, debates about the size of the guest list, arguing over the location of the wedding (Vorgoth: THE MEMORIAL GARDENS ARE VERY POPULAR FOR SUCH OCCASIONS Myrna: It would be particularly romantic as Emmerich reported Rook would like their remains to be used in the garden after their death Caterina: No, the Dellamortes have been married in the Treviso chantry gardens for generations Teia: will the Chantry be finished cleaning up all the leftover Ventaori things in time? Caterina: I was unaware that we were dealing with any time constraints (Teia changes the subject while they debate whether or not to confess that she suspects Rook might be pregnant and thus they might want to have the wedding quickly since while having a baby first isn't a bad thing, it would make the fitting of wedding outfits difficult (Rook is not pregnant, Rook is throwing up and sickly at the moment because they're trying to develop immunity to common poisons)) catering, discovering that Nevarrans also arrange for the couples' funeral while they're putting together the wedding, determining if one of the couple will be wearing a dress, figuring out who is going to make the outfits for the wedding party (Manfred, who made their own Watcher uniform, is unaware of the careful negotiations and has already measured both Rook and Lucanis and has started to sew a very traditional Watcher wedding outfit that was in style about 2,000 years ago that Manfred thinks it cool/pretty, Manfred started this as soon as Spite told them that Spite, Rook, and Lucanis were officially a thing because I 100% believe that Spite and Manfred gossip with one another and Lucanis figures better Manfred than Spite walking around while Lucanis is asleep and spilling everything to everyone in the Lighthouse, Rook and Lucanis will wear the outfits Manfred makes for the reception), figuring out who is going to be in the wedding party (lots of debating about whether Illario is going to be part of things or not), determining who is going to be walked down the aisle (Rook), determining who is going to walk the person down the aisle (Vorgoth, this is why I say Rook is walked down the aisle), flowers, decorations in general, location for the reception, music, living arrangements in the aftermath of the wedding, conferring about wedding presents so none of them get the couple a duplicate of something, determining who is going to officiate, figuring out who will paint the wedding portraits, whether or not it would be appropriate for any contract to be fulfilled during the wedding (Teia: Unless you refuse to allow guests to bring plus ones, at least one Crow is going to bring a target to the wedding and finish the contract after the vows, it happens every time) what would happen to anyone who might die of "natural causes" during the wedding, wedding favors, Mourn Watch avoiding/ignoring the Crows probing about King Marcus, designing the wedding invitations, scheduling health check ups, seating arrangements, if Antiva or Nevarra have any tradition of dowries or bride prices then Vorgoth and Caterina discuss how that works out, determining where the couple will go for their honeymoon, and of course, determining which side of the family will pay for what and setting a budget, neither side is going to let the other get away with "I pay for it so I decide" though neither side would honestly because while they all have specific visions for their loved one's wedding, they really do want the couple to be happy with how things end up

It's quite possibly the most fun Caterina has had in decades and she and Vorgoth will either best friends or they'll be mortal enemies in the aftermath

When everything is done, Teia and Myrna will absolutely be exchanging letters in the aftermath and meet up once a month for brunch/gossip that they can't tell anyone in their own organizations.

In the meantime, Lucanis and Rook are debating if they'd survive eloping and Rook is getting Viago to coach them through building up an immunity to common poisons as well as poisons commonly used by the Crows which is not the same thing (resulting in Teia's misunderstanding) and how to best put the fear of Rook into the Crow houses most likely to cause problems/target them as spouse of the First Talon

Edit: No matter what the wedding planning group decides, all the wisps from the Lighthouse are going to be there at the wedding if only because I adore the mental image of the wisps floating around the ceremony. I think it would be pretty.

Edit: One of the wedding colors is absolutely purple

[lynnlovesthestars]

Failures- Lucanis Dellamorte

“We have to bring Rook back” Spite is screaming as Lucanis leans for support to the nearest object, person, anything.

“Lucanis, stop ignoring me” Spite growled clawing at Lucanis’ brain more and more, trying to push him to do something, to take over, anything but sit idly waiting, Spite couldn’t wait. “Rook. Back. Now” He repeated and repeated as it was all dawning on Lucanis.

Rook was.. gone.

Rook was gone and he had not told them how he felt. Gone.

His chest heaved, nausea growing in his stomach the more the seconds ticked away, and Spite did not help.

“If you won’t do anything I will” Spite yelled louder hoping that that would shake awake Lucanis, cause Rook was gone and even though he hated to admit it, he needed Rook. “I will take over and I will do it” It was like a slap in his face, the tone that Spite used, as if he physically tried to spit at him, different from his usual creepy and whiny voice.

“Stop it” Lucanis’ barely whispered, cracking for the first time in weeks. There was a time where he promised he would never sound so broken again, yet in that moment he couldn’t hold it back.

“No.” Spite insisted. “I will handle this” 

“You won’t handle shit” Lucanis had to keep his control, be smart, he couldn’t allow Spite to take over and fumble the one thing he couldn’t allow to fuck up. “I will find Rook and bring them back” He swore as he held back the lonely tear at the crease of his eye as he promised himself he would not waste any more time.

He cried later that day, when the coffee high started to fade again, and his body felt heavy. How long had it been since he last sobbed so uncontrollably and his chest ached? Since he allowed himself to feel remorse?

He should have told them what he felt, he should have kissed them when he had the chance, he should have held them when they were there.. yet he failed.

[saintsbuffy]

You’re an angel, i’m a dog.

Pairing: Lucanis/Rook Lucanis/Rook/Spite

TW: injury detail, heavy sexual references, abuse, grief, suicidal idolisation, implied non con, spite being a freak, possession, substances.

Word count: around 5000

Chapter: 2/?

2 - DEVIL LIKE ME

— Rook is injured, Lucanis tries to help.

Lucanis - Bold

Spite - Italics

We've been waiting for this haven't we.

Spites familiar voice echos in Lucanis's head, the feral creatures nails claw his mind as the shadow figure takes form beside him.

Rook tentatively approaches as Lucanis glances around the room before pulling over a large crate for him to sit on and gesturing for Rook to take the armchair opposite him. Even though the crate is slightly too small for him and a few inches shorter than the chair it manages to hold his weight and leaves him eye level with her.

She's watching him and he moves the equipment to one side, careful to pick up any glass shards as he piles tubes and viles into a corner and stacks the books clearing the space between them. His face remains a mask of ease but she can't help but notice the small bead of sweat that forms at his brow. When was the last time he had hosted a girl in his room? He couldn't remember. Come to think of it, when was the last time Lucanis had hosted anyone in his room?

Lucanis shifts in his seat, crossing and uncrossing his arms. He had always been bad at making small talk but now he felt like he'd forgotten how to speak entirely. After a moment the silence is broken by a low humming noise, some variation of a song his grandmother would sing to him many years ago. The noise fades in and out but Rook dosent react, Lucanis is the only one who can hear it.

Quiet.

The girl is studying he realises. Head cocked to one side she watches how he moves and breathes, her guard his up, her discomfort increasing and yet she dosent make a move to leave.

"So..." Rook rests her arms on the oversized chair, one knee crossed other the other, fingers tapping on the edge. "Are you going to tell me how you did that thing out there." She raises her hand and seems to be trying to project her power but all he sees is empty air.

He had felt her magic approaching of course, the thrum of power had given him plenty of warning. The spell she had encountered had taken almost a decade to perfect, he had spent countless hours working on it with his Cousin. The barrier could be locked to one room and only lasted as long as the creator was present. It was supposed to keep out any magic users that didn't possess the Dellamorte bloodline. Clearly it was faulty if Rook had gotten through. He'd have to ask Illario about that when he next saw him.

"I am not entirely sure." Lucanis takes in the way her eyes waver, she doesn't seem annoyed that the spell had managed to stuff her magic but curious, perhaps slightly hopeful? "I do not use many spells, my specialities lie more in weapons and potions. My cousin helped with this one, you might have seen him around.”

She can see that from the display on his desk to the objects that fill his room and line the shelves, a few swords hanging on rusty nails that stick out of the stone.

"Ah, the handsome one." Rook recalls, as he shoots her an unamused look. "So could you, create a spell or a potion to stop it?"

"Why would you want to stop it?" He queries watching the way her hand goes to a chain around her neck, the small opaque crystal attached to it resting just between her breasts, Lucanis moves his eyes away quickly. His gaze goes back to her face then to the wall behind her as he avoids her eye contact.

He had seen the necklace before but had never gotten a good view of it, in fact he could not recall a time he seen her without it. No bigger than a marble, the edges jagged but dull enough to not cut into her skin. Whatever it was it meant something to her. Another piece of the puzzle.

"I mean, to help control it. Like the way your daggers seem to hold power, I can't have another mission go sideways because of me." A half truth.

He does not have to look her in the eyes to know that's not exactly what she meant.

"Perhaps you should ask Emmrich about that kind of stuff, maybe he could make you some sort of object to hone your energy."

In his time here Lucanis had seen the man do incredible things with his gifts, he had even come to him for help occasionally to identify any objects found whilst out on missions.

"I don't think that would work." Her lips pull into a grimace as she continues to fiddle with the silver chain. "And besides i'm not really sure how to feel about the old man, he frightens me a bit." Rook was both equal parts unsettled and intrigued by the man and his skeletal companion.

Lucanis raises an eyebrow but lets her talk.

"Don't tell him I said that though, you two are friends right?"

She recalls the few times she had watched Lucanis enjoying himself over dinner and drinks, in the library studying whatever it was he was searching for. Out of everyone here the two men seemed to click, both quiet and strange in their own way.

"I do not know him that well." Lucanis does not have friends. He is here to complete his contract and keep his home safe, that’s all.

Misunderstanding his blunt reply as sarcasm, Rook laughs. It's muffled by a hand over her mouth.

His chest tightens, wondering what it would sound like to hear a full true laugh from her. He wanted to find out. There was no question that Rook was attractive. Her elven features mixed the human way she spoke and carried herself made most people find her off putting. She tried to make herself invisible, had spent her first weeks at the Lighthouse brushing off everyone's attempts of inclusion but Lucanis had seen the way she made their companions laugh without even trying, the way her smile lit up a room. She didn't even have to try, he couldn't stand it.

Had the room always felt this small? Of course it had he was sleeping in a dammed storage closet for gods sake.

The desire that coiled low in his stomach was not as easy to ignore now as it was when he'd first laid eyes on her. All it takes is one moment of wanting and a mirror image of Lucanis draped in shadows manifests through the table. The creature contorts and twits its body, limbs cracking into place until it's crouched beside Rook. Lucanis closes his eyes reaching deep inside to sever that tie between man and demon but it's already started to knot. The door a-jar.

Lucanis grits his teeth as Spite inspects her, but the more he tries to shut him out the more the demon takes form. His discomfort and Rook's distraction only seems to make Spite more excited as it moves from side to side head twisting like a starved animal about to feast.

I can see why you're so fascinated by her. Such a pretty little thing.

Spites hand is less than an inch away from caressing Rook's cheek, hand going, lower, lower, until it comes to rest just below where Lucanis can't see under the table. Lucanis lets out a disgruntled cough, clearing his throat then scoots his crate back from table.

Spite's eyes snap up at him, and it lets out a laugh the look of hunger fading into a feline grin.

Leave us. Do. Not. Touch her.

You can't make me.

If you're going to stay, be quiet and behave.

Spite lets out a whine and glares back at him but obeys hands up in surrender as those glowing eyes ablaze. Some days Lucanis could push him out if he really tried. It would take all his strength and then some but each day was different. Recently the active days seemed to be outweighing the quiet ones. It had taken him years to train his mind against the demon, to build up walls and keep the doors locked. But no matter how badly Lucanis wanted him gone he would always let Spite back in.

There was no one without the other, they depended on each-other for survival. He had wasted almost his entire life trying to find a cure for this curse placed upon him and had come to accept the grim fact that if he wanted to live, Spite would be along for the ride.

Fine, fine. She's all yours. I won't touch her...unless she asks us to.

Lucanis stands to his full height kicking back the crate, he moves through the shadow demon purposefully causing the the smoke to separate. As Spite's form reconstructs itself it watches him as he places two china cups onto the table, both different sizes and designs. Rook lets out a small yawn as she waits, utterly unaware of the domestic currently playing out between the demon and the man as she watches Lucanis. There's a clattering of boxes being moved and rearranged then he lights a flame under what appears to be some sort of homemade stove. After a few minutes he returns with a steaming pot and the smell of coffee fills the small room.

Rook holds out her cup for him as he pours out the dark brown liquid until it reaches the top then fills his own. Now that he's closer she can see the black power under his nails, a cluster of tiny white scars standing out in contrast against his tan skin. She wants to ask about the experiment he was doing when she had interrupted him earlier or pry more about her magic but it's late and she's exhausted. Shes beginning to ajust to the dim candle light, the subtle warmth the flames gave off as the occasional gust of cold air moved past her and the presence of the man sitting opposite her.

Sure, it was a bit awkward and she wasn't sure if he was utterly repulsed by her or just had invited her out of civility but Rook had been searching for a distraction from her restless sleep and she had found one. They didn't need to speak, to fill the silence, just being in each others presence was enough. Maybe it was the adrenaline wearing off that had made her feelings intangible but could swear she felt a strange sort of comfort when she was with him.

Instead of voicing the million questions she yearned to have answered Rook leans back in her seat against the worn velvet and lets the cup warm her hands as raises the it in a thanks then takes a sip. It's bitter and warm, not hot enough to burn but the taste leaves an unwelcome flavour on her tongue. The disgusted expression on her face forms because she can stop it. Lucanis is waiting for her reaction.

"What? No milk or sugar?" Rook's voice sounds strained as she gulps down the liquid mid sentence forcing herself to take another sip.

She'd had coffee before, at the training camp it was valued as much as gold. But that had been a watered down version, reheated and shared between large groups, whatever Lucanis had was strong and fresh. Perhaps this was another thing she'd have to adjust to.

The corner of Lucanis's mouth raises, those full lips forming an almost smile as he watches her drink before trying his own.

"I like it black." He states before refilling his cup.

Rook hides another nervous laugh and gives him in a look that says of course you do. She would not make a very good spy he thinks.

She coughs as she reaches the bottom of the cup wiping a hand over her mouth before placing it down and pushing it slightly away from her. A fake smile of gratitude plastered across her face.

"Thanks for the coffee, and the company."

Lucanis's doesn’t seem to register the comment, his gaze entirely focused on the spot just behind where she sits, eyes occasionally flicking to check that she hadn't moved then back again to not so empty space. The humming song starts again.

There an obviously tension between Rook and Lucanis but neither of them quite wants the moment to end. Lucanis had never been very good at making friends, hell, he struggled enough as it was to keep loose acquaintances. But since he would be staying here for the foreseeable future he might as well try to be civil with her. He couldn't leave now, not when he was so close to finding a cure, not when he and his cousin had a chance at freedom, not when this girl was before him could be the key to everything. Regardless of his intentions Rook had played a part in his rescue and he would be indebted to her until the contract was completed.

I think she's starting you like you. Thats a first, should we tell her what we really are?

I thought you were staying quiet.

How can I when I can hear all your thoughts. I wonder what she would say if you told her what you want to do to her-

Spite seems to forget what it was saying as the creature stops mid taunt, turning in a circle sniffing the air its hollow eyes turn from Lucanis to Rook and back again.

Oh, this is going to be fun.

Lucanis's temple is throbbing as he rubs the palm of his hand against it trying to mask the feeling with more questions. If he could keep her talking for long enough maybe he could gain back enough control for Spite to leave them.

"When you have these nightmares, what do you see. Tell me about them."

Straight to the point then. Rook thinks, it would be easy for her to lie about it but she has nothing to lose.

"You want me to help you or not?" Lucanis barks out when Rook doesn't immediately answer. He doesn't mean for his tone to come out like that, cruel and disingenuous. Every step he makes towards Rook feels like another two back into the dark.

"Sorry-" She starts only to be cut off by his raised hand.

"Stop apologising." He shuts her down. "Just start from the beginning, anything you can remember might help us to better understand your...situation. When did they start."

She should be sorry, she was a Mage who had killed tens, if not hundreds of innocent people. Even if she had been following orders, even if it had been an accident, she had killed, no man would ever mourn one less Mage in the world.

You have more blood on your hands than she does.

I take no pleasure in killing, unlike you.

It’s impolite to lie Lucanis. I know you get off on it as much as I do. Oh look you've made her cry…

Spites observation panics him for a moment but when he looks at her there's no tears present. The only evidence of sadness is a fait sheen to her pale eyes, that haunted look he had seen before in the mirror on his own face. Greif.

As Rook recalls her nightmares and the memories that interlinked them she wished, not for the first time that they had left her to die in that rubble. How was it fair that the gods got to pick and choose who gets the power of creation, of life and who gets that of death and destruction. How she longed to be able to bring her friends back from the dead, reach down upon the earth and feel the roots grow.

"I think they must have started when I was a child but I could never remember anything, only waking up to find myself screaming. The night after the first time my magic manifested there was a thunderstorm, I started dreaming about this woman, I can't recall her face but it was like she was glowing in green flame."

Lucanis's focus is wavering as he tries to hang onto each of her words, something about green flames, a wolf, the sound of thunder, demons and the veil. His time is running out. The pain was behind his eyes now, vision blurring as he blinked over and over trying to shut it out.

"Lucanis." Rooks voice brings him back for a moment. "Are you alright?"

Smells like blood.

Get out of my head.

Can't you smell it? Let us taste her, just this once.

I said, GET OUT.

But Spite was right. The metallic tang in the air was undeniable, he could smell it. A shudder of dread snapped him back into reality. He was looking at her how, really looking. Had Rook always looked this pale? Her eyes were hollow, sunken in slightly and ringed with grey. Her lips parted as she paused mid sentence.

"You are bleeding." Lucanis's voice startles her as she has a moment of confusion before the realisation sets in.

She shifts the seat back a few inches looking down at herself before placing her hand to where the black shirt was sticking to her side. When she brings it away her palm is covered with a fresh coating of blood. Her mouth forms a silent 'oh' as she places her hand back against the wet shirt and holds it in place.

Before Lucanis can stop her she stands up swaying slightly using her free hand to steady herself against the table as he rushes to her side, the crate he was sat on lets out a screech against the stone as he flys across the room towards her.

Told you I smelled blood.

"LEAVE US." He doesn't mean for those words to be voiced aloud. Lucanis's voice comes out through gritted teeth, if Rook notices him speaking to the air she doesn't react - too focused on trying not to pass out.

It's not the blood that makes Lucanis feel like he's going to throw up but what comes after. This is how Spite feeds, the demon can't touch her in its usual state but pain, death and bloodshed calls to it the way a holy man might call upon the gods. When in battle the bond between Spite and Lucanis is forged from violence, all it takes is for the first kill to commence and then two become one. Most days the demon can do little more than cause him headaches with taunts and mind games but in battle Spite can take over fully possessing him and using Lucanis's body as a vessel for violence.

He wasn't sure if Rook's injuries would be enough to let Spite in all the way there was no rule book for this kind of thing but he didn't dare send her away. Not when she was in so much pain, not when seeing her in pain caused him so much.

With one arm under hers and the one carefully hooked around her waist so not to touch the wound he guides her to the table and holds up her weight against his own until her legs secure against it, the table is low enough that when he pushes her back slightly she's able to sit on it without much strain.

"Keep pressure on the wound." He leaves her for just a moment hurrying across the room and pouring out something that look like water onto his hands then wiping them clean on his sheets.

Lucanis was not healer but had learnt survival young and patched himself up after many a battle. He had been nine the first time he'd had to fix a dislocated bone, thirteen when he learnt how to stitch his own wounds.

Rook winces as she feels the throbbing pain grow, her skin heating as sweat begins to coat her skin. She has no idea how long it’s been bleeding or when the stitches had ripped. It was as if until she saw the blood there had been no pain and now it felt like she had an arrow in her side all over again.

When Lucanis returns he's holding a pile of clean cloth and a bottle of clear liquid. "I'll need to redress the wound and clean it."

Rook continues to look down at her side fingers now slick with her own blood she acknowledges him with a faint noise that he can’t make out.

"I need you to look at me. I don't think Varric will forgive me if I let you bleed out on my table." That earns a pained laugh. "This is going hurt." He adds.

"Okay." She nods again this time meeting his eye as Lucanis hand holds her chin to look at him. Defiance lives in her eyes but she agrees to let him help her, this is a woman who does not want to be pitied or saved. He knows exactly how that feels.

Lucanis lets her go and pushes his sleeves up further until the material can't go any higher up his biceps. With little effort he rips the cloth into strips and places it onto the table beside her along with the bottle. Slowly, cautiously, he stands infront of her assessing the situation. Rook moves her body slightly so that she's turned half to the side giving him better actress to her and her hand beings to pull up the bottom of her shirt.

"Do you want me to stop, it's not too late. I can wake one of the others-"

"No it's fine." Rook cuts him off. "It really doesn't hurt that much." Her face says otherwise.

It would be easier for him to remove her top completely but the thin material leaves little to imagination, it's clear Rook wears nothing underneath. Instead Lucanis pulls a dagger from his belt and cuts away at the ruined fabric leaving only enough to cover her. The bulk of the bandages are almost completely soaked through. As he unbinds them from her ribs and throws them onto a pile on the floor Rook swears when the wound is exposed to the cold air.

We could have her right now, on this table.

"It's not as bad as I thought, but you're to need to sit still for the next part. Drink this." He holds the bottle up to her lips and lifts it so she can drink, one hand underneath to catch anything that spills.

Rook splutters and coughs as it burns the back of her throat but takes a few gulps as Lucanis lets out a loose a breath.

With the old bandages removed and blood wiped clean he can now see only three out of the eight stitches had torn open, and other than the irritated red skin around the wound there’s no sign of infection.

"That was fucking disgusting. Do me a favour and just keep talking. If I don't pass out from this, I might die if you serve me anymore beverages." Rook states, eyes closed as she lets out a low whimper whilst Lucanis begins to wipe away the blood. “And if I die.” As grits her teeth. “I will come back and fucking haunt you.”

Such dirty words for such a pretty mouth.

Don’t look at her.

Imagine the sweet sounds she would make.

"I'm not very good at talking." Lucanis confesses, undeterred by her empty threats.

He doubts very much that she would want to hear about how he'd spent almost his entire childhood being experimented on in a cage by the only maternal figure he'd never known.

"Oh i've noticed." Her eyes are wide and alert now, pupils dilating. "Seriously say anything, sing a song tell me a story, make something up. Tell me about possessed life, I bet he's here isn't he, the demon, is he here? Is he a he?"

Rook might not have been thinking clearly to start but now she’s racking her brain for everything she learnt about this man so far. Not only was she about to let an almost stranger - at best coworker, operate on her in a storage cupboard she was about to let a man possessed by a demon to do it. Other than overhearing Neve refer to the demon as 'Spite' once she had no idea if that was its name or what it even was.

Did demons even have pronouns?

"It's here, it likes the blood." If Lucanis was trying to comfort her he was failing miserably.

From the corner of his eye Lucanis can see spite crouching beneath the table, its slightly see through finger poking at the small pool of blood on the ground. Despite the finger going through the blood and stone floor Spite puts it into its mouth and pretends to lick the finger clean.

Delicious.

"Great, well there's plenty of that here. Sounds like a charming guy." Rook lets her head fall back and stares up at the ceiling as she waits for Lucanis to fishing threading the needle.

Lucanis bites down on his bottom lip as he finishes threading the needle then sterilises the wound with what smells like alcohol. He dabs at the blood with no warning and she clutches back as it stings sending shivers down her spine that make her want to kick him.

"What does it feel like?" She asks the corners of her eyes glistening but again, no tears fall.

"At first I thought my soul had been split in half. But now, it’s more like having two sets of hands instead of one, eyes in the back of my head. The power is…unimaginable."

He pulls her skin together holding the flesh with a forefinger and thumb as the needle pushes through for the first stitch. Over rooks deep breathing he swears the faint sound of thunder booms overhead.

"I have heard sories of demons that can possess men. The Grey Wardens knew a lot about dark magic. How did you come to be this way? I mean what happened to you. You weren't born like this, were you?" Rook seems to be sitting straighter now, the tonic kicking in and numbing some of the pain.

"That-Is none of your concern."

"Does it hurt?" Rook knows she should probably change subjects from the strain in his voice but when she looks up at him the answer is written all over his face.

"Yes and no." The look of agony is gone in seconds and he's back to concentrating on her wound.

His hair despite being tied back falls over his shoulder as is long enough that she feels it brush against her bare skin. She can feel his warm breath against her torso and the occasional faint tickle of his beard as he gets too close.

"Does it hurt right now?" Rook wonders looking around the room as if she would find a demon spawn hiding in the shadows, but she sees nothing.

"You don't have to worry about me. You are the one bleeding."

The second stitch is though.

"I'm bleeding all over your bedroom and you won't even tell me how you got possessed by a creepy demon, wow." Rook tries to make an exaggerated gasping sound but it's cut short as the third stitch goes though and the wind is knocked out of her. "Fucking ouch."

"You are very dramatic." He was glad she couldn't see his faint smile as he continued to work.

This was good, if she’s was coherent enough to make jokes and swear at him hopefully she wouldn’t pass out anytime soon. Lucanis makes a mental note that Rook often uses humour as cover when she's hurt.

The pain has faded to a dull ache now, Rooks body already starting to feel a bit stronger with each passing moment but her mind is still hazy. She’s trying to stay awake but all she can think about was how wants him to never stop talking. Each word keeps her tethered to this plane. That accent, she could listen to it forever.

“We are almost done.” Lucanis moves closer to her - his large body is almost completely covering hers as he leans so that he can tie the bandages around her back. He stops half way realising he can't quite reach it without the possibility of hurting her. Rook feels his hand lightly touching her shoulder indicating which way she needs to move as she swings her legs back round to give him better access.

Now Rook sits on the other side as he leans over, legs hanging over the table, back facing him. He doesn't mean to stare when he looks down at her exposed back but there's no helping it as his eyes travel from the bottom of her spine to the top of her half ripped shirt and the array of scars that covered almost every inch of skin in between. Some more faded than others, the freshest couldn't have been more than a year old. Each one thin and precise line, this had been no accident, she had either been forced to take a beating or let someone do this to her.

"Arms up." He instructs as she strains lift them with little protest but manages to keep them held in place long enough for him to loop the cloth around.

He begins to tie the fresh bandages around her, one hand laying flat across her ribs to keep them in place. The rough contrast of the tips his fingers brush against the exposed skin above her bandages. Once he's sure the bandages are tight enough he feels himself moving without thinking. Rook doesn't react as a finger traced the outline of a particularly deep bit of scar tissue that falls almost directly in the centre of her spine.

He had seen this kind of torture before, often inflicted on disobedient soldiers or deserters. It was possible to get rid of most scars and wounds with certain kinds of magic, for cosmic or personal reasons he had seen it done more than once. But some were not as easy to remove as others and perhaps she had chosen to keep them as a reminder for what had been done to her. He shouldn’t care, it was none of his business.

He could feel the demonic energy that ran in his veins drumming under his skin as he flexed his hand by his side. He was only human-ish after all.

Who did this to you? He wondered. I will make them beg for my blade. He should have no right to care. He had done that and worse to his own enemies, what made seeing it on her so different? Spite who had had been suspiciously dormant the entire time Rook had her wounds tended to was now flicking in and out of existence behind her. The demon Rook from its crouch by her side and for once the demon had nothing to say.

They were both thinking the same thing.

"These are not from battle." Lucanis states as he pulls the cut up edge of the shirt back down to cover what he can see of her side.

"No, they are not." Rook answers as she moves off the table to stand. Her cheeks have more colour to them now he notices as she refuses his help when she steadies herself. "Thank you, I think i've ruined your night enough. I should get going now."

Lucanis accepts her thanks with a nod not sure what to do now. He wants to ask her to stay. Only so he can keep an eye on her incase the wound gets worse of course. He couldn't exactly offer up his bed, a girl like her deserved to sleep on beds of silks and feathered mattresses.

In his first week at the Lighthouse he had been given a large room in the north wing with a plush four poster bed and a dozen pillows. It had felt like he was suffocating in the comfort of that bed, he had tried removing all the bedding on the second night. Placing the mattress on the floor on the third then welcoming the cool stone against his bare back on the fourth. None of it had worked. He felt like a dog without the comfort of its cage. It had been years since he'd slept on anything more comfortable than a couple of crates pushed together with a blanket over the top. Not that he slept much as it was.

As Lucanis begins to put away his things he can feel eyes on him as Rook stands as if she's waiting for him to say something. "Right, of course." Lucanis clears his throat then grabs something off his bed and passes it to her. "Get some rest if you can, i'm no healer so you should probably get somebody to look at that in the morning if you can."

Rook takes the shirt from him and begins to pull her old ruined one over her head with one hand as Lucanis turns to give her some privacy. He can feel his blood heating as the awareness that she’s half naked in his room sinks in. She places the discarded top on the pile of bloody cloth and bandages and cringes as she takes in the mess around the room. Dried blood on the floor, glass on the table, the door hanging on its hingers. After today she didn't think she would ever be able to face him again.

His cream collared shirt reaches her mid thigh, the size of it looking ridiculous on her. She was shorter than the average elf and even though Lucanis was tall for a human he only had a few inches on her but his build had made the shirt seem least thrice her normal size. When she finishes dressing Lucanis is still facing away from her - arms resting against the table as he tried not to think about what Rook might look like in his shirt. He can hear Spites perverted thoughts begin to pile up in his mind making him want to flip the table and its contents scores the room. Instead he re arranging his work and places the books back onto the table as he finishes cleaning off any trace of blood, any trace of her.

"Goodnight, Rook." Lucanis mumbles.

The way he says it sounds like goodbye. So this was it then.

"Goodnight."

Rook waits a few more seconds to see if he will turn back and then, she’s gone.

end chapter notes -

everyday i learn something new about his family and backstory (thanks twitter)

this chapter was only meant to be 3k long but i ended up writing about 6k and cutting it down a bit, their dynamic is so fun to write. anyone has information, head canons or theories about him pls share id love to hear them!

do we hate grandma or not? (i think we do)

as always @/saintscain on twitter, hope you enjoyed

[warden-anders]

lace harding's and lucanis' coffee scene where they talk about how she has to have people like her and lucanis is the one that points out that she was a small dwarf girl surrounded by large tall humans, so of course she had to be pleasant and likable.

lucanis mentioning that illario is the charmer but meanwhile everyone is thrown off guard by lucanis' very first quest of going grocery shopping.

lucanis coming from a large family that have all been murdered.

lucanis' mind in the fade constantly mentioning "only one left" and "I cannot be this"

something something maybe YOU find yourself needing to be likable for survival something something devils sacrament

[ollypopwrites]

May Our Demons Dance: Chapter 3

May Our Demons Dance (13532 words) by ollypopp Chapters: 3/? Fandom: Dragon Age: The Veilguard (Video Game), Dragon Age (Video Games) Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Lucanis Dellamorte/Rook, Lucanis Dellamorte/Female Rook, Lucanis Dellamorte/Original Female Character(s), Rook/Spite Tags: Eventual Smut, Slow Burn, Mostly Canon Compliant, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Fantasizing, Masturbation, Friendship, Found Famliy, Hurt/Comfort, Blood and Gore, no beta we die like - i can't even type it, no neve slander we love neve in this house, POV Third Person, discussions of slavery, fantasy racism, ptsd symptoms, Spite is a pervy little shit. Chapter Summary: “Spite, I mean it. We cannot be the thing that compromises tomorrow.” ‘Let me out,’ Spite said with more composure than Lucanis had seen before. A challenge. “No.” ‘Sweet dreams.’ Spite disappeared. “Spite,” Lucanis growled. “Spite!” Nothing. 

New Chapter is up! Very important author's note at the beginning, please, please be sure to read it.