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bumblebeesweettea · 4 days ago

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A fine night for an evening; Lucanis x Davrin

Fandom: Dragon Age Veilguard

Rating: Teen And Up

Characters: Davrin, Lucanis Dellamorte, Spite, Rook (mentioned)

Relationships: Lucanis x Davrin

Warnings: two men smoochin. Don't like it don't read it.

Genre: Romance | Angst

Synopsis:

Rook encouraged Lucanis and Davrin to bury the hatchet. And they certainly try but Spite seems to be displeased with Lucanis getting close to the man who threatened them.

Rook had called for Lucanis and Davrin to set aside their differences and settle their feud. Their incessant bickering was a distraction, and in the face of looming challenges, they needed to focus on collaboration rather than conflict. What had begun as an attempt to foster teamwork had quickly spiraled into a lively exchange recounting the most disastrous missions of their careers. As the words—and the wine—flowed, they found themselves lost in tales of the absurdities and misadventures that only a season hunter and assassin could understand, the tension dissolving amidst laughter and shared experiences.

"Hang on, someone sent you on a contract to kill a Bronto?" The warden asked, incredulity lacing his voice. "You’re serious?"

"Ugh, that fucking Bronto," Lucanis muttered under his breath, the words a grumble of reluctant memory. He took a long drink from his cup, savoring the liquid courage. "I don’t remember much of the details, but I had more than a few cracked ribs after that." He glanced at the warden who was still staring at him, and Davrin, emboldened by the wine and the warmth of the moment, leaned in closer, a playful spark in his eyes. "So, what exactly happened with this Bronto? Did it involve a lot of running?"

Lucanis chuckled softly, his defenses lowering as he recalled the memory. He got up to pluck another bottle of wine from the rack, figuring another bottle wouldn't hurt. “More like a lot of dodging. It was a massive creature, and I was supposed to sneak in, deliver this poison into its food, and get out without it noticing. But of course, it didn’t go as planned.”

Davrin's eyes widened in mock horror. He rose to take the newly filled glass of wine from Lucanis. “And you thought you could sneak up on a Bronto? Those things are like pissed-off Qunari in plate armor!”

"I know, I know!" Lucanis threw up his hand in exasperation, his smile betraying his own incredulity. "I was young and stupid. I thought I could take it down. Turns out, it wasn’t just its size that was intimidating—it was its temperament. I ended up getting tossed like a rag doll.”

Their laughter echoed in the small room, wrapping around them like a gentle embrace. As the story faded, an unspoken connection began to weave itself between them. The air felt different now, charged with a tension that neither had anticipated. Davrin’s gaze lingered on Lucanis’s face, tracing the curve of his lips, and suddenly the space between them felt impossibly small. A prickle ran up Lucanis' spine as he became very aware of how close they were. How dangerously close… Lucanis’ breath hitched, and it didn’t go unnoticed by Davrin, who was grinning a little too smugly for Lucanis’ liking. For a moment, the only sound was the crackling fire in the dining hall.

Lucanis shifted slightly, knowing he had to say something to break the silence. "You know," he began, his voice teasing yet threaded with a hint of vulnerability, "you've got this ridiculous look on your face, like you’re trying to solve some great mystery."

“Hm?” Davrin’s lips curled into a slow mischievous grin, his eyes never leaving Lucanis’. “And what would that mystery be?” He leaned forward ever so slightly, just eclipsing Lucanis’ personal space.

"The mystery of whether or not you're going to make the first move," Lucanis shot back, his own smile widening as a spark of defiance danced in his eyes. “Or if you’ll play it safe and realize this is a bad idea.”

Davrin chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that sent a shudder up Lucanis’ spine. "Bold of you to assume I'd do all the work," he murmured. The Crow’s heart hammered in his chest, the playful banter doing little to mask the intensity simmering beneath the surface.

"Maybe I just like to see you sweat," he replied, his voice softer now, almost a whisper. The Crow could feel the heat radiating from Davrin, the shared breath between them like a secret only they knew. There was another pause, this time instead of words the stillness was broken by Davrin’s hand clasping the assassin’s hand, before running up Lucanis’ arm.

The Warden’s warm palm finally made its way up to the other man’s face, cradling Lucanis’ cheek with a tenderness that sent a shiver coursing through him. The Crow leaned into the caress, his playful demeanor melting into a raw, vulnerable expression. “Davrin,” he breathed, his voice barely a whisper, imbued with an invitation that the Warden seemed all too eager to accept. As the space between them dissolved, their lips brushed together with tentative sweetness, a heartbeat of hesitation lingering in the air before they melded into the promise of intimacy. At first, the kiss was a gentle exploration, soft and tender, but it ignited with urgency when a low moan escaped Davrin’s lips, deepening the connection as a tongue deftly teased Lucanis’ lips apart, plunging into the warmth of his mouth. The kiss tasted of cheap wine, the faint spice of gingerwort tea mixing with the nectar of their desire. Davrin's hands skimmed down Lucanis’ chest, wrapping around his waist, pulling him closer, as if their very beings craved to become one.

Lucanis barely had time to set his wine glass aside before he found himself maneuvered against the cool stone wall, a breathless laugh escaping him as the kiss broke for air. A wordless exchange pulsed between them, filled with the heat of shared breaths mingling in the charged atmosphere. Maker... When had he last experienced a touch That didn't hurt? a caress that didn’t leave him bleeding, both physically and emotionally? His mind drifted, tethered to the ethereal sensation of Davrin's affection. The Assassin’s hands found their way to the back of Davrin’s head, urging him in close once more. The elf peppers kisses against Lucanis’ lips before trailing them down to his jaw, igniting every nerve within Lucanis. The crow tilted his head back, surrendering to the moment as he let out a slow, trembling breath. Davrin’s hands unbuttoned his vest, and slipped beneath the fabric, fingers grazing the thin layer of Lucanis shirt.

Suddenly, Spite stirred within him, a cold chill creeping through Lucanis’ body like a snake slithering down his spine.

‘What are you doing?’ the demon growled, its voice a malicious whisper in the recesses of his mind. It wasn’t a question about Lucanis’ actions, but a venomous accusation of trust. ‘He threatened to kill us! He wants to hurt you!’

“Stop...” Lucanis’ voice broke, the tremor of his thoughts escaping into the open air without his conscious consent. Davrin immediately halted, confusion crossing his features as he pulled back and searched Lucanis' gaze with worry. “Lucanis?”

The Crow couldn't respond, his eyes squeezed shut as an ache started in his skill. ‘If I take control, he’ll kill you in a heartbeat. A blade through your heart or a jagged edge to your neck,’ Spite hissed, its words laced with venom. ‘Or we’ll have to kill him to save ourselves. No one’s safe. No one.’

“No. Don't.”

“Lucanis?” Davrin repeated, his voice laced with concern as his thumb tenderly brushed against Lucanis' cheek, an effort to pull him back from his thoughts. “Are you alright? Did I move too fast?” The warmth in his tone remained, yet it only intensified the turmoil raging within Lucanis. The warden’s hold turned from a comfort into a brand, an invasive heat against his skin. He instinctively took a step back, distancing himself from the gentle hands that had cradled him mere moments before.

Davrin’s expression shifted from confusion to deep concern, though the tenderness in his eyes never wavered. “Lucanis, please,” he urged softly, taking a tentative step forward, but Lucanis flinched away, the movement sharp and defensive, his instincts screaming in rebellion. “I’m not going to hurt you. Please, talk to me. Did I make you uncomfortable? Or... is it Spite? Did he say something to you?”

The silence stretched between them, heavy with tension. It was as if the demon had taken his ability to speak. Lucanis felt the walls he had painstakingly built around his heart beginning to crumble, but Spite's voice was relentless, ‘He’ll betray you, just like the others. Do you remember the last time someone got close? The pain? The blood? You can’t trust him!’ Unable to meet Davrin’s concerned gaze, shame and fear wrapped around him like chains. He fumbled to re-button his vest, fingers trembling visibly.

Noticing the distress etched upon Lucanis’ face, Davrin dared to take another step closer, his voice low and imploring. “Talk to me, Lucanis. Please.”

With a hand raised instinctively, as if to physically ward him off, Lucanis shook his head, still trembling. “You don’t know what you’re getting into. I can’t let you—” His voice cracked, the weight of the unsaid nearly suffocating. “I can’t let you hurt me.” Or me hurt you, the last part hung unspoken, a ghost in the air.

The Warden’s brow furrowed. “I would never hurt you,” he insisted, his tone a blend of firm resolve and gentle Assurance. “We can take this slow. Just talk to me. Please.

The words felt like a fragile thread, poised to sever beneath the chaos roiling within Lucanis’ mind. Vivid memories swelled, the cold steel of a blade, the betrayal of a once-trusted companion, the sickening warmth of blood spilling, viscous and sticky against his skin. Each moment of agony—the horrors of the Ossuary, the twisted deeds forced upon him by Blood magic—surged through him, drowning him in despair, muffling Davrin’s earnest intentions with the weight of the past.

Lucanis could only shake his head, tears shimmering in his eyes as Spite continued to push. ‘He’s just like the rest. Don’t let him get too close, or he’ll stab you in the back!’

“ ‘Lucanis, if you lose control of Spite, I'll have to put you both down. No hard feelings’,” Lucanis said, echoing the Warden's own words spoken long ago in the lighthouse. Davrin went rigid, his expression darkening, a shadow flickering across his features. In that moment, it was his turn to feel the pinch of shame.

Davrin takes a deep breath and nods his head slowly. “Yeah.. I said that. And at the time I meant it. But those were words said in ignorance, a promise before I came to know you as a man.” The confession hangs heavy in the air. “But we’re allies now, Lucanis. And I swear I won't hurt you.”

“Don't swear,” Lucanis said All too quickly. A reflex on his part. It always hurts worse when someone promises not to betray you when they ultimately do. He chews the inside of his cheek as he takes a few seconds to think. He needed a minute. Maybe a long minute.

“I.. I need to clear my head. Excuse me Davrin,” Lucanis said. He was retreating in on himself. The damage was done,The doubt sewn by Spite taking root. Lucanis' heart ached with the familiar weight of isolation, a solitude enforced by mistrust. He could feel Spite's presence, a dark specter urging him to retreat, to guard his heart with steel and silence.

Davrin spoke again, his voice filled with urgency. "Lucanis, please. Don't walk away. Not now. We can talk about this. It's what Rook wanted –”

“What. Rook. Wanted?” Spite growls from Lucanis’ throat. The Assassin half turns, his eyes tinged with the purple glow of Spite. “Rook told you to do this? They wouldn't!” Davrin tensed up as the demon took over and an almost pained expression appeared on Lucanis face.

“Spite,” Lucanis grits his teeth and pushes the demon back. “Davrin I just.. I need some time to think.” He doesn't look back at the elf but can feel his eyes. Sense the pained expression the elf was directing at him. Still he pushes himself forward and out the door.

Davrin stood frozen for a moment, unsure what to do. He knew he'd said some horrible things. Threats, jabs. Words he couldn't say were just talk because he had meant them. Lucanis had been an unknown variable. A hired killer and an abomination possessed by a demon of Spite. And as Lucanis himself pointed out, Davrin had been judgmental and harsh. He brushes his fingers over his own lips. The ghost of the kiss still remains and maybe that small moment was all he'd have with Lucanis. And he couldn't really blame anyone but himself. How could he expect someone to be vulnerable with him after he'd threatened to kill them?

Finally Davrin grabs the open bottle of wine and a second one before he retreats to his room.

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