#lucanis dellamtore

[himluv]

The Bet

The next chapter of Say My Name (Say it Twice) is here! Read it below, or over on AO3.

A visit to Treviso never failed to make Lucanis feel better. The night sky overhead coupled with the warm glow of lanterns reflected in the canals were as comforting to him as a favored blanket to a child. He walked the market, slowly purchasing the items on his list while Spite flitted around, smelling everything. 

Bellara wanted to make a Dalish fish soup that required some very specific spices and, of course, fish. He would buy the protein on his way back to the Lighthouse. For now he chatted with the merchants, stopped to trade good-natured barbs with Neri and Noa, and made his wending way to Café Pietra. 

Spite raised his face to the sky and inhaled. Coffee, he said. But, no Rook?

Of course, the only other time the demon had been to the café had been with Rook. It made sense that he would associate this place with her. 

“Not today,” he murmured as they found a table near the water. It was early in the evening and there were fewer patrons than there would be later in the night. He ordered an Andoral’s Breath and a small plate of cantucci, then settled in to enjoy the moment of quiet. Viago was punctual, but Teia was not. They would be late and Lucanis did not mind in the slightest. 

Spite leaned over the table, inhaling the scent of the almond pastries with unabashed hunger. What. Is. That?!

Lucanis sighed and answered in a low voice. “Cantucci,” he said. “A biscuit with almonds.” There were many different interpretations of the form, but Café Pietra favored bold flavors – their cantucci were baked with amaretto for additional punch. 

Goes. With coffee?

“Yes,” he said, although Lucanis would never dip biscotti in a brew as complex and delicately crafted as Andoral’s Breath. Instead, he took a bite of the cantucci – careful to keep the powdered sugar out of his beard – then took a sip of his coffee. 

He savored the blend of the bold, rich roast with the gentle, bittersweetness of roasted almond. A combination that took the best of each to create something exquisite. He sighed. He’d needed this. Though, he had to admit, it would be even more pleasant if Rook were there.

Where. Is. Rook?

“Lucanis,” Teia said as she approached his table.

He stood to greet her with the customary kisses at each cheek, though no lips touched skin. House Dellamorte might view the Seventh Talon as family, but none of them were foolish enough forego the basic precautions. 

Behind her, Viago scowled. Not for any particular reason that Lucanis could tell, that was simply the man’s default expression. 

Lucanis gestured to the table. “Please, sit.”

The Talons sat, each oblivious to the demon flickering between them, sniffing with abandon.

Smells like leather and lavender, Spite said of Teia. Soft and supple. He inhaled, then grinned at Lucanis. Deadly!

Viago seemed harder for the demon to catalog. He sniffed and sniffed, circling the Fifth Talon like a dog scenting a bone. Smells like… death. Like sour, scorching death. Like numbing ice. Like – another deep inhale – bitter fruit.

The poisons, Lucanis realized. The demon scented all the various vials Viago no doubt had secreted across his person. Finally, Spite left Viago to sit at the only remaining chair, as if he too were joining this meeting. 

Teia gave an exaggerated look around the café. “Where is Rook?”

Lucanis shrugged. “I think she’s in Arlathan.” He knew she was in Arlathan, with Davrin and Bellara. “Something about Venatori in the forest?”

Viago shook his head. “They’re growing bold.”

“They’ve been bold,” Teia said, her tone dark. No doubt she was thinking of their raid on the casino. Of Caterina. 

Lucanis gave her a grim smile. “Rook will handle it.”

Spite grinned. Rook. Will. KILL. Them!

Teia shot him an appraising look. “You know,” she said. “I like Rook. She’s good for you.”

Lucanis spluttered into his coffee. “What? That’s not–”

Teia laughed and Viago’s eyes went wide. “Shit,” he said, side-eyeing Teia. “You were right!”

She grinned at him. “You owe me a night at the opera!”

Lucanis frowned. “You bet that Rook and I–”

Teia’s smile vanished into shock, while Viago’s smile suddenly bared teeth.

“Our bet was that you’d caught feelings for Rook,” he said. 

“Not that she returned them!” Teia’s eyes shone in the lantern light, wide and hopeful. 

“Mierda,” Lucanis said. 

She likes. That we like. Rook?

Viago chuckled. “She’ll be planning your wedding in no time.”

The blood drained from Lucanis’s face, even as his stomach flipped at the thought. 

Our Rook. Forever?! 

He needed to get this conversation back under control. “There’s nothing to plan,” he said. “Rook and I are not together.”

Teia scowled and sat back in her chair with her arms crossed. “Yet.”

Viago snorted. “She is tenacious, this one.” He said it with such uncharacteristic fondness that Lucanis’s chest ached. Not because he had once desired that fondness, but because it reminded him of Rook. The softness in Viago’s eyes for Teia was a faint echo of the way Rook looked at him.

Rook. Loves. Us?!

Mierda! Lucanis scowled to tamp down that train of thought.

Teia shrugged. “You’ve never complained about my tenacity before.”

“Yes, he has,” Lucanis said. 

“Yes, I have,” Viago said at the same time. 

Teia rolled her eyes. “You two are no fun.”

Lucanis sighed. “I asked to meet for a reason, if you’re finished harassing me?” He glanced between the Talons, but they kept their silence. He lowered his voice, aware that his cousin might have spies in the café.

“Illario is working with the Venatori.”

Hate him, Spite said. Kill. Him.

Viago went utterly still, his blue eyes locked on Lucanis. “You’re certain?”

He growled. “Heard it from the lips of Zara Renata herself.” She had been dead at the time, but he would spare them the details. 

Teia looked uncertain. “She could have lied.”

Lucanis tilted his head in assent. “Perhaps.”

The Talons exchanged uneasy glances. “But,” Teia said. “Illario has been…”

“Acting suspiciously,” Viago said. 

“At first, I blamed it on your…” Teia winced. “Disappearance. Then Caterina’s death.”

“But, if he’s the one who betrayed you…” Viago’s voice was low and ice cold. It was the voice of one the most lethal men in all Antiva.

Teia looked down at the table. “It would explain his behavior. Not just grief, but–”

“Guilt,” Viago said. 

Teia gasped, her head jerking up to look at Lucanis. “Does that mean–? Caterina?”

“Yes.”

She let out a string of decadent curses. “I’ll kill him myself!”

Viago put a hand on her shoulder. “Patience,” he said. He looked to Lucanis. “If we are to move against him, we need information. Proof.”

Lucanis sat back, bringing his nearly empty cup with him. “Precisely why I am here.”

Viago nodded. “I’ll keep an eye on him. See what we can discover.”

Teia winced. “You should know,” she said. “He’s been spreading rumors about you.”

Now Lucanis stilled in his seat. “What kind of rumors?”

She looked to Viago, who gave Lucanis a guarded look. 

“He’s telling anyone who will listen that you’re an abomination,” she said. 

Viago added, “that you tried to kill him.”

Lucanis focused on keeping his breathing even, but said nothing. He just stared into his coffee cup. 

“Shit.” Viago pinched the bridge of his nose.

“It’s true?” Teia sounded heartbroken. “But how? You’re not–”

Lucanis raised a hand to forestall their questions. “It’s complicated,” he said. “But, the short version is that Zara used the Ossuary as a sort of lab to create abominations.” He scowled, blocking out the memories of that place as he spoke. “And she wanted to make the Demon of Vyrantium more than just a clever title.”

“But,” Teia said. “You seem fine!”

Both Lucanis and Viago gave her dubious looks.

She scoffed. “I mean, fine for being imprisoned and tortured for a year!”

Viago raised an eyebrow at her. “Maker, Teia.”

Show. Her? Spite grinned at Lucanis hopefully.

Lucanis shook his head. “Like I said, it’s complicated. 

“Which part?” Viago asked. “The demon, or trying to kill Illario?”

He snorted. “When haven’t I wanted to kill my idiot cousin?”

“Big difference in wanting to and trying,” the Fifth Talon said.

Teia gave him a hard look. “Does Rook know? About the demon?”

“Of course,” he said, almost offended. “I never kept it from her.” Never mind that he couldn’t. She was a mage and had noticed Spite right away. 

The Talons shared a weighted look, as if his honesty with Rook held some deeper meaning.

“What do you want us to do about the rumors?” Teia asked. 

He shook his head. “Nothing,” he said. “Illario cannot suspect you of taking my side.”

Viago nodded. “Not if we’re to remain close enough to learn his plans.”

“Very well,” she said, though she clearly didn’t like it. “We’ll be on our best behavior.”

Vaigo snorted. “That won’t be conspicuous at all.”

She glared at him and Viago smirked back.

Lucanis sighed. “You two are disgusting.”

Viago scowled at him, but Teia just laughed. “Us? You should see how you look at Rook! Like she hung the moon.”

He made a disgusted noise. “Don’t you have an opera to attend?”

Teia grinned at him. “We do. Although…” she glanced at Viago, then back to Lucanis. “We could always postpone. You could invite Rook! Make a double date of it?”

Both men groaned.

“Enough, Teia,” Viago said. “Leave him be.”

She sighed and shook her head. “See? Like I said, no fun at all.”

Viago smirked and opened his mouth, eyes glittering at whatever he was about to say, but Lucanis stood abruptly.

“I’m fairly certain I don’t want to hear the rest of this conversation,” he said. He gestured to the plate of cantucci. “Help yourselves.”

Viago scowled. “And where are you going?”

Lucanis smiled. “I have to see a Qunari about some fish.” He gave a shallow bow and hurried back out into the market before the Talons’ flirtations made him nauseous.

Leather and lavender, Spite said. Death. Flirting?

“Yes,” he said as he wound back through the market toward the fishmonger’s stall. “They’re together. At least, right now.” They tended to be on-and-off-again, though they’d been steadier since House De Riva had moved to Treviso after Salle fell to the Antaam.

Together. Like us. And Rook?

“No,” he said. “Rook isn’t… ours.” It was strange to talk about her this way, but he needed to use words Spite would understand.

Noooo, Spite said. Rook is ours! Our Rook!

“No,” Lucanis said, more firmly this time. Like reprimanding a dog.

We. Like. Rook.

He sighed. “Yes.”

Rook. Likes. Us!

Well, she liked Lucanis, at least. How she felt about the demon was less clear. “Maybe,” he said.

No! No maybe. Rook. Likes. US!

Lucanis shook his head. “Even if she does,” he said. “That doesn’t mean we’re together. That doesn’t make her ours.”

Why not?

“Because there’s more to being together than just liking someone.” He browsed the fishmonger’s stall, selecting two of the fresher whitefish he knew had a mild, sweet flavor and flaky texture. They should meet Bellara’s needs perfectly.

Like. What?

Mierda, did he really have to explain commitment to a demon? What had become of his life? He ignored Spite’s question and paid the fishmonger, who grunted their thanks.

Spite remained quiet until they were in the Crossroads. They walked through the spirit market side-by-side when Spite looked at him. Explain. Now?

Lucanis sighed. The demon had been patient, and this was the most polite request Spite had made of him, maybe ever. Either he felt guilty for his outburst with Davrin the night before, or he genuinely wanted to know. Perhaps a little of both.

“Being together is…” Mierda. He didn’t have any experience with this. “Choosing to be with one another. Spending all your time with each other.”

Like. Us?

Lucanis winced. It was easy to forget sometimes, but Spite had even less experience than he did. “We didn’t choose this, Spite.”

The demon didn’t respond to that.

“And,” Lucanis continued. “When people are together there’s usually romantic feelings. Attraction. Love.” He shrugged. “They care for one another.”

Attracted to Rook?

“Yes.” As strange as the fact still was to him, he couldn’t deny it. He was very attracted to Rook.

They walked in silence to the dock, and Spite pointedly ignored the Caretaker as it ferried them back to the Lighthouse eluvian. But before they reached the mirror, Spite stopped.

Lucanis. Loves Rook?

He blinked at the demon, then considered what to say. The fact that his response wasn’t an immediate ‘no’ was more than a little terrifying. After a moment, he shook his head. “I don’t know,” he said. He didn’t think so, not yet. But it was all too easy to imagine a future where he did.

He should be careful. Guard his heart and hers, because the odds of this contract getting a happy ending were not high. But even as he considered walling himself away from Rook, he knew it was too late. 

Regardless of what was to come, Lucanis’s course was set.

I. Like. Rook! Spite said.

Lucanis snorted at that. “I think everyone knows that by now.”

The demon beamed at him, and they stepped through the eluvian and back to the Lighthouse. Back to Rook.