#rookanis fluff

[awardenandacrow]

FANFIC SNIPPET 9

[dinner after commitment scene. The team shares dinner, then Lucanis brings out dessert and coffee. It’s a merry occassion, with lots of fun tales and laughter. Lucanis can be caught repeatedly looking at Rook, who is laughing over her coffee cup, and smiling. Notes are made. As the evening winds down, Naimeryn offers to stay and clean dishes, standing and beginning to gather plates.]

THANKS TO @/cahwrites ON THREADS - who gave me the idea of a first kiss while washing dishes :3

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“Do you want an extra pair of hands?” Harding offered.

“Oh, sure -“

“Actually, Harding, there was something I wanted to discuss with you, if you wouldn���t mind accompanying me?” Emmrich said quickly. Naimeryn met his eye, and he gave her a quick wink. She frowned slightly, confused, watching as everyone but Lucanis cleared out, almost all of them with smirks on their faces. Oh. Were they… giving them time alone?

But then… but once they were gone, she felt immediately on edge. What now? She slowly set another plate on the stack in her arms.

Lucanis started to stand, and she gently placed a hand on his shoulder. “You cooked!” She said with a smile she hoped didn’t betray her nerves. “I’ve got this. Just relax a minute.”

She went to the sink and started the faucet, depositing the pile of plates and silverware into the basin. She’d always liked doing dishes, even when she’d had no choice. Hot, soapy water up to her elbows, steam to warm up her shivering bones… no one bothering you. It was peaceful, and had often been her only solace amid chaotic days. She let out a slow breath and willed herself to relax. After all, what was there even to be stressed about?

“There’s no reason I can’t at least help you clear the table,” Lucanis said after a moment, and she heard his chair scrape back.

“Oh, all right,” she said with faux exhasperation. She started washing the dishes she had while he gathered the rest. She took another deep, steadying breath. It was just a little extra time together. No big deal, right?

His hand brushed the small of her back, his chest pressing into her shoulder as he leaned around her to deposit the pile he was carrying into the sink. She told herself to be calm, but being this close to him had her heart beating at a dizzying pace. She turned her head to thank him, a lighthearted smile parting her lips.

They met his, just an accidental brush of flesh where he’d been leaning in to peck her cheek. She gasped, pulled back slightly, remembering their almost-kiss, afraid he would flee again.

“I’m sorr-“ she began, her tone panicked.

“No,” he cut her off, meeting her eyes with his. They burned into her even as he pressed his lips back to hers.

The dishes forgotten, Naimeryn leaned into him, both of their eyes fluttering closed of their own accord. His mouth was warm. His mustache and beard tickled her face, first gently, then more aggressively as she turned and deepened their kiss. His arm snaked around her waist, holding her tighter against him, and despite her hands being wet, he did not flinch away as she tentatively placed one on his chest and the other on his bicep. A contented sigh escaped her.

Honey and lavender cream, indeed. Sweet. Warm. Soothing.

He pulled back enough to press his forehead gently to hers.

“Are we done thinking this is a bad idea, then?” Naimeryn asked breathlessly, losing the teasing edge she’d meant for the question to carry.

“Maybe we’ve just decided bad ideas are better,” he smirked, then planted a kiss on her nose. “But you should know… Spite has informed me the others are watching from the door.”

Naimeryn groaned. “Of course they are.”

“Spite, you’re no fun!” Taash yelled, then there was a chorus of laughter and the door slammed shut.

[rookinthecrownest]

Spite learns about babies 👶

(Tiny!Spite belongs to @/psin314)

[writerfromshikahr]

I want to state this is not a "hate Neve" piece. I wrote this originally as a bit of a tongue in cheek nod to players (perceived) frustrations about the flirting between Neve and Lucanis if you're romancing him. It was a one off piece originally and then a friend of mine encouraged me to write the whole damn thing. It's silly and probably not the best writing I have ever done, but it's a fun read (oh and long)!

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First Cut - Lucanis X Rook Fanfic

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It had been a mistake to stay in the room earlier, to stand there and watch Lucanis and Neve exchange flirtatious banter.

Neve had laughed, bright and melodious, and Lucanis had responded with a smile that seemed to light up the whole damn Lighthouse. Right in front of her. In front of her. The pang in her chest had been immediate and deep, leaving her breathless and struggling to maintain her composure.

Now, as she stood in the quietest corner she could find, away from everyone else, the hurt replayed itself over and over, accompanied by the cruel voice of self-doubt that she couldn’t quiet. What did you think would happen, Rook?…she chided herself. That he’d notice you when someone like Neve exists?

She squeezed her eyes shut, feeling the familiar burn of embarrassment. Of course, Lucanis liked her. Why wouldn’t he? Neve was stunning, with her sleek, sophisticated appearance and the grace of a refined Minrathous mage. She always had the perfect thing to say, remaining calm under pressure and exuding an effortless charm that captivated everyone. Neve was flawless. Neve was everything a woman should be.

Rook, on the other hand, was… well, she let out a humourless laugh. She was “pleasantly plump,” as one Crow had called her, with thick thighs and a belly she had long since stopped trying to hide. Her Crow leathers had to be adjusted to fit her more comfortably around her hips and legs. Where Neve embodied elegance, Rook was simply Rook. Awkward, self-conscious, and hopelessly bad at saying anything clever, she always seemed to trip over her words or, worse, blurt out something completely foolish at the worst possible moments.

You thought he felt the same way about you, didn’t you? Her heart twisted painfully at the realization. What a cruel joke. The way he had looked at Neve today was proof enough, wasn’t it? She wasn’t his type. The message was received—loud and clear.

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Rook had become a master at avoidance over the past few days, though it was starting to wear her thin. Every time she caught a glimpse of Lucanis, her heart clenched painfully, so she did what she could to keep her distance. She slipped out of rooms when he walked in, buried herself in tasks that required her full attention, and, when it came to conversation, she only offered clipped, polite responses to Neve, refusing to engage in anything more. It hurt to keep her walls up, but it was the only way she could cope.

Instead, she found herself spending more time with Davrin and Assan, grateful for the easy friendship they shared. Davrin, with all his swagger and occasional theatrics, had a way of making her smile even when her heart felt heavy. He was like the big brother she never had, someone who made her feel safe and seen without any of the complications that seemed to swirl around Lucanis. And with the added charm of Assan, Davrin’s adorable toddler griffon companion, there was always something to laugh about.

Today, they’d ventured out to the Arlathan Forest, a welcome reprieve from the Lighthouse and all the tangled emotions that currently lived there. The forest was peaceful, a canopy of golden leaves rustling overhead, and Rook felt some of her tension ease. She and Davrin found a small clearing atop a rocky outcrop, perfect for Assan to practice his flying. The young griffon flapped his wings with eager determination, making little leaps and swoops that brought a genuine smile to Rook’s face.

They settled on the smooth granite, sharing a simple lunch of bread and cheese, and conversation flowed easily between them. Davrin regaled her with tales of growing up in Arlathan, his voice full of life and humour, and she listened, fascinated by his stories. In turn, he asked her questions about the Crows, and she answered as best she could, occasionally making light of some of the darker aspects of her life. They even exchanged stories about their respective fights—the Grey Wardens and their eternal struggle against Archdemons, and the Crows with their endless contracts and rivalries. Despite Davrin’s opinions about her line of work, he respected her. They had built a solid friendship, and she had come to value it deeply.

He could tell she needed this time away, and so he did what he did best: kept her entertained and laughing. Still, even with all the humour and warmth between them, Davrin wasn’t blind. He’d noticed that something seemed off, that Rook was more distracted than usual. And, more curiously, he’d noticed the absence of Lucanis. Usually, the two were practically joined at the hip, their bond undeniable. But now… there was a definite shift, and he wasn’t sure how—or if—he should bring it up. As he watched her thoughtfully, he finally spoke up, trying to sound casual.

“So… you gonna tell me what’s got you all twisted up, or are we just gonna pretend you haven’t been acting like your mind’s somewhere else entirely?”

Rook looked at him, startled by the question, but then she sighed, her shoulders sagging. She had hoped that spending time with Davrin and Assan would make her forget the pain, but there was no escaping how deeply it cut her. “It’s nothing,” she said softly, but even she could hear the lie in her voice.

Davrin didn’t push. He knew her well enough to know when to leave things be. Still, he reached out and gave her shoulder a squeeze, his usual cheeky grin softening. “Well, whatever it is, you know I’ve got your back, right?” Assan warbled in agreement, flapping his wings like he was seconding the sentiment.

Rook’s lips twitched into a small smile. It wasn’t much, but for now, it was enough to have someone who cared, someone who could make the world feel a little bit brighter. Even if she couldn’t outrun her feelings, at least she had friends who made the burden easier to carry.

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Lucanis’s gaze lingered on Rook, his expression dark with confusion and frustration. She had gone out of her way to placing as much distance between them as possible, choosing the spot farthest from him at the table, right between Davrin and Taash. She occasionally spoke, and her lips curved into a soft smile when Davrin leaned in to whisper something that made her laugh. The sound, bright and genuine, only twisted the knife deeper into Lucanis’s chest. She hadn’t even spared him a single glance.

He took a sip of his soup, the taste barely registering, and let out a sigh that was loud enough to draw Lace’s attention as she grabbed seconds and plopped down beside him. “This is one of the best meals you’ve cooked, Lucanis,” she said with a grin. “Seriously, it’s delicious.”

He mustered a small smile at the compliment, but his eyes drifted back to Rook. He missed her terribly—her company, their conversations, and, most of all, the way her laughter used to be directed at him. Now, it was as if he had become invisible. What did I do? he thought, trying to piece together where he’d gone wrong.

Neve, who had also taken a seat nearby, picked up on his brooding mood. She arched an eyebrow and gave him a teasing smile. “Don’t tell me my assassin is feeling broody this evening?” she asked, her tone playful.

Lucanis’s eyes flicked over to her, unfocused. “What?”

Neve rolled her eyes, grabbing a piece of bread and dipping it into her soup. “I said, you seem broody tonight,” she repeated, though she didn’t seem all that concerned about it.

He nodded, distracted, and looked back at Rook, who was still doing her best to ignore him. “Perhaps I am, Neve,” he replied, the words tasting bitter. It was infuriating how Rook refused to acknowledge him as if he’d become a ghost. He had replayed every conversation and every moment from the past few days, trying to figure out when he might have crossed a line, said something careless, or given any reason for her to pull away. Yet he kept coming up empty.

Spite, normally full of commentary and sass, had fallen unusually silent. Then again, Spite tended to grow quieter whenever Neve was around.

Neve leaned closer, trying to pull his attention back to her. “Do you want to catch up this evening?” she asked, eyes sparkling with interest. “I found a book I think will be right up your alley.”

Lucanis had barely registered her words, his mind too full of the ache that was Rook. He blinked at Neve, his expression blank. “A book?” he echoed, his voice distant.

Neve, clearly unimpressed, shook her head. “Yes, Lucanis. I have one for you,” she repeated, with a touch of exasperation.

“Oh,” he said, realizing he’d made her repeat herself. “Sure, I’ll swing by later and get it from you.” His reply sounded mechanical like he was going through the motions. But then, out of nowhere, Rook’s laughter cut through the air, loud and free, a burst of joy that caught everyone’s attention. Even Taash choked on her drink, snorting with amusement.

Lucanis felt his heart sink further. Yeah, he thought miserably. I hate it here. Watching Rook smile at Davrin felt like punishment, and not knowing how to fix things between them was driving him mad. He had no idea how to bridge the growing distance or why he had ended up here in the first place, and that, more than anything, was the most frustrating part.

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Rook’s heart hammered in her chest as she froze in the hallway, seeing Lucanis waiting for her. Every instinct screamed at her to turn around and walk the other way, to avoid whatever painful conversation was about to unfold, but she knew she couldn’t keep running. You can do this, she told herself, her throat tightening. She drew in a deep breath, trying to steady herself, and forced herself to speak.

“Lucanis,” she greeted, her voice carefully cool. “Is there something I can do for you?”

His brow furrowed, confusion and frustration warring on his face. “What is happening, Rook?” he asked, a hint of exasperation leaking through. “Why are you avoiding me?”

She looked away from his gaze, her eyes fixing firmly on the stone floor. If she looked at him—into those deep, dark eyes that always managed to see straight through her—she knew she’d cave. She wasn’t ready for that. For once, she was determined not to fold, to hang onto her anger, even if it pained her. “I’m not avoiding you,” she replied, her tone clipped. “I’ve been busy, you know, saving the world, fighting ancient gods… that kind of thing.”

Lucanis regarded her quietly, the weight of his gaze like a physical thing pressing down on her. “I see, have I said something or done something?”

Rook forced a smile, one that didn’t reach her eyes. “No, I’m fine,” she said, her voice flat and devoid of the warmth she usually reserved for him. The fine was a lie, but she clung to it desperately. It felt safer than admitting how badly he’d wounded her. And it gave her a semblance of control over her heart, a way to shield herself from the crushing weight of feeling like she wasn’t enough.

Lucanis tilted his head slightly, his eyes narrowing. “Fine?” he repeated, scepticism heavy in his voice. “Hmm. It doesn’t look that way from where I’m standing.”

He took a step closer, and Rook instinctively backed up, keeping the same distance between them. She wouldn’t let him close, not when her heart was so fragile. “Perhaps you should go pick up that book from Neve,” she shot back, “I’m sure she’ll have your favourite coffee brewed and waiting.”

Lucanis’s eyes widened a fraction, the hurt flashing across his features unmistakable. Before he could respond, she brushed past him, retreating into her room and closing the door behind her. She leaned against it, breathing hard, fighting the urge to cry.

In the hallway, Lucanis stood in stunned silence, the shadows around him deepening as he tried to piece together what had just happened. His head tilted slightly, confusion etched on his face. Was this about Neve? The question churned in his mind, sending him spiralling back through every conversation, every interaction with Neve, searching for any clue. Why would Rook mention her?

It was then that Spite finally spoke up, his voice echoing in the corners of Lucanis’s mind. “Tastes like… envy,” the demon mused, each word slow and almost thoughtful. “Yes. Bitter. Sharp.”

Lucanis’s eyes widened in sudden realization. Envy. Rook was jealous? His heart lurched at the thought, a mix of confusion, guilt, and something else he couldn’t quite name. Jealous of what? That was the bigger question, but he had a place to start, which was more than he had moments before.

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Lucanis listened to Neve, his gaze thoughtful as he leaned back into the couch, sipping his coffee. The cozy yet refined atmosphere of her room couldn’t fully soothe his restless mind. "Jealous? Of me? Odd," Neve mused, sounding genuinely perplexed. "We aren't exactly bosom buddies, but we've always had a good working relationship. She's a capable archer, highly recommended if you listen to House de Riva. And she’s... well, sweet. Maybe a little too sweet at times. The world can be harsh, and people like Rook don't always make it out in one piece."

Lucanis tilted his head, his lips curving into a faint smile. “Sweet? Yes, she is,” he agreed, but there was more to it. “there’s strength in her, too. The kind that can get us through this, no matter how bad things get.” He paused, searching Neve’s eyes. “You know why Viago sent her out of Antiva, right?”

Neve nodded, her brow knitting together slightly. “I got the gist from him. He seemed… displeased.”

Lucanis’s smile widened a fraction. “Viago is always displeased,” he said with a hint of humour, “but he does have a soft spot for Rook, even if he won’t admit it. She climbed the ranks fast. Full membership with the Crows at a young age. Orphaned and taken in by House de Riva when she was around eight. But what got her exiled was taking initiative where she shouldn’t have.” He swirled his coffee, his eyes reflecting a complicated mix of pride and sadness. “She has heart—a soft one, maybe—but she freed a group of prisoners and slaves one night, prisoners the Antaam would’ve had executed. Varric was among them. You know that part.”

Neve leaned forward, her interest piqued. “Yes, but?”

“But,” Lucanis continued, “her actions derailed a much larger operation. She saved lives, but it cost the Crows.. That’s what led to her downfall.” He stared into his coffee, the steam curling up like ghostly whispers. “She’s got a good heart.”

Neve considered his words, sitting beside him and absorbing the weight of what he’d said. “A good heart that ultimately got her kicked out of her city,” she pointed out, “But that doesn’t explain why she’s jealous of me.”

Lucanis gave her a wry smile, one brow lifting slightly. “I figured the renowned Minrathous detective might have some insight to bestow upon me.”

Neve laughed, the sound warm and clear. “Oh, sure. Because I’m great with people, right?” she said, rolling her eyes. “Tell you what: maybe I’ll have a word with Davrin. They’re close. Leave it with me, and I’ll get back to you.”

Lucanis's smile softened, but his heart felt heavy with uncertainty. "I appreciate it," he said, though the thought of Rook feeling hurt, even if it was out of jealousy, left an ache in his chest that he couldn't quite shake.

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“Jealous?” Davrin echoed, his eyebrows rising with genuine surprise. “Of you? Hmm... nope. She hasn’t said anything to me, but she has been distracted. Yeah, that’s the right word.” He set down his latest whittling project, a small wooden figure of what looked like a griffon, and studied Neve with his usual thoughtful expression. “But she hasn’t said anything to you?”

Neve shook her head. “Nothing, I’m afraid.”

Davrin let out a sigh, leaning back. “Look, Rook is a good person, but even I know some people need space from time to time. I’m not going to pressure her into telling me anything she doesn’t want to share. But...” he trailed off, tapping his chin, “she and Lucanis used to be practically joined at the hip. Wherever he was, she’d be right there. If you ask me, she’s sweet on him, and it’s not just that whole Crow loyalty thing.”

Neve’s eyes widened slightly. “She has a crush?”

Davrin shook his head with a small smile. “No, not a crush. She likes him. I can see it in the way she is around him, and I know her pretty well.”

Neve frowned, her mind racing. “So... what do I have to do with all of this? Seems a little strange that I’d be involved.”

Davrin tilted his head, smirking a little. “Well, who told you she was jealous?”

“Lucanis,” Neve replied, sounding almost exasperated.

“But who told him?” Davrin shot back, a knowing grin on his face.

Neve paused, then rolled her eyes. “Spite told him,” she admitted with a touch of reluctance.

Davrin’s laughter burst out, loud and unapologetic. “Oh, so we’re taking the word of a demon now?” He shook his head, clearly entertained. “This is hilarious.”

Neve threw her hands up in mock surrender. “Hey, Lucanis takes him seriously! And to be fair, that demon has never led us astray.” Her lips twitched with a hint of amusement despite herself.

Davrin exhaled, the humour fading to something more contemplative. “All right, leave it with me. Rook and I are heading out to Lavendel together soon. I’ll have a chat with her, and see if I can make sense of this mess.”

Neve nodded, a small smile of relief crossing her face. “Thanks, Davrin. Just... tread carefully, okay? Whatever’s going on, it matters a lot to her.”

Davrin gave her a mock salute. “Don’t worry. I’ve got this.” But as he picked up his whittling project again, he couldn’t help but wonder if his friend was ready to admit the truth to herself.

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"What the fuck, Davrin? Who told you that?!"

Davrin blinked in surprise at Rook's outburst. "Who told you I was jealous of Neve?!"

"Hey, I’m just asking for interested parties. They figured I’d know what’s up with my friend," he replied, holding his hands up defensively.

Rook turned away from him, her fists clenched at her sides. She was too angry to speak—not at Davrin, no. Davrin could annoy her, sure, but Lucanis? He could make her seethe. And knowing that this line of questioning was coming from Neve of all people made her want to throw herself straight into the Fade, never to return.

"Rook," Davrin said quietly, his tone unusually gentle, "I promise, I won’t breathe a word if you tell me what’s bothering you. Warden’s honor."

Rook glanced at him, catching the earnestness in his expression. For once, he wasn’t cracking a joke to lighten the mood. She let out a sharp exhale and looked away again, debating whether to open up. Finally, she gave in.

“I swear to the Maker, if you report back to them, I’ll take out a contract on you,” she grumbled before the words burst out of her. “It’s the fucking flirting! Neve and Lucanis flirt all the fucking time, and I’M RIGHT FUCKING THERE! They just flirt like I’m invisible. I—well…” She hesitated, then plunged ahead. “I like him, and he never flirts with me. Never mentions anything about buying me something at the markets, or, ‘Hey, Rook, here’s a flower I picked for you,’ or anything like that. Nothing! I get nothing. It’s infuriating. What is wrong with me? Well, I know what’s wrong with me. Look at me. Look at this!”

She grabbed her thigh angrily, gesturing in frustration.

Davrin didn’t interrupt. He just listened, his expression calm and steady, letting her vent it all out.

“She’s perfect,” Rook continued, her voice shaking with anger. “Perfect hair, perfect outfits, perfect everything. And then there’s me—always saying the wrong thing, always crumpled. And he’s all, ‘Wow, Neve, great shot,’ while I’ve just literally slaughtered ten thousand darkspawn and not once does that man say anything.”

Davrin waited a beat to make sure she was finished before speaking. “I see. Well, thank you for finally telling me. I feel like we’re making progress here.”

Rook shot him a sharp look, her frustration now turning toward him.

“So, you like Lucanis,” Davrin said with a knowing smile. “I thought as much. I mean, it was obvious to me—everyone else seems to be walking around with blinders on.”

Rook groaned, dramatically flopping her head into her hands. “Don’t tell me that, Dav. It’s not making me feel any better. I already feel like the biggest idiot alive. I guess Viago was right.”

Davrin slung an arm around her shoulder and pulled her in, his tone soft but firm. “That’s my friend you’re talking about, and I don’t take kindly to people putting her down. Question is, where do you go from here?”

Rook let out a long, exhausted sigh. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “I’m so angry at him right now. And unfairly pissed off at Neve. But I can’t forgive him yet. I’m far too in my ‘petty era’ right now.”

“I can tell, Rook,” Davrin began, his voice steady but not unkind. “Thing is, he doesn’t know what he’s done. Not sure how the man is supposed to make amends if he isn’t told.”

Rook stared off into the small village that Davrin and her had spent the last two days protecting from the Blight, her frustration simmering beneath the surface. “How does he not know? The man is a walking romance novel with her! Why doesn’t he do that with me?” She paused, her voice dropping into something quieter. “I know I’m not like her… I get that…”

Davrin cut her off before she could spiral any further. “For the love of the Maker, Rook, you’re gorgeous. Why do you keep comparing yourself to her? Sure, you’re nothing like Neve, but you’re you, and that ain’t bad.”

Rook gave him a deadpan stare, one eyebrow arching. “Really? Now you’re hitting on me?”

“Fuck no,” Davrin shot back with mock indignation. “I know who your boyfriend is... and he terrifies me.”

Rook snorted, sarcasm dripping from her voice. “He’s not my boyfriend. I have no idea what we are. At the moment, he just annoys me.” She let out a heavy sigh, her shoulders slumping. “I’m going to have to talk to him, aren’t I?”

There was a note of defeat in her voice, like she was resigning herself to some inevitable punishment.

“Fuck… why do I have to be the one to do it? I want him to apologize. I want him to beg for forgiveness.” She groaned, throwing her hands in the air. “Wow, I really am being petty.”

Davrin grinned, his expression both amused and supportive. “Yes, but it suits you.” He leaned in conspiratorially. “Do you want me to say something to him? Informing him of his gross oversight of sneaking around trying to find out what’s wrong with you and then maybe steer him toward an ‘ah-ha’ moment?”

“You’d do that for me?” she asked quietly, her voice softer now, vulnerable.

“Of course,” Davrin said with a mock-serious nod. “Killing darkspawn, being a baby daddy to Assan, and sorting out budding romances at the Lighthouse? Those are my specialties.”

Rook rolled her eyes and playfully swatted his arm. “Dumbass.”

Davrin grinned, the corner of his mouth quirking up in that infuriatingly charming way. “Maybe so,” he said, leaning back with exaggerated confidence, “but I’m your dumbass. And where would you be without me?”

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Lucanis had been quiet all day. Davrin knew he was a man of few words, but today’s outing with him and Lace had been decidedly less chatty than normal. Now, they sat around a tavern table, finally letting some warmth soak into their bones. The Lighthouse’s perpetual twilight made it easy to forget the biting cold of Thedas, but the roaring fire beside them was a rare luxury this evening.

Davrin watched Lucanis as he stared into his coffee mug, the steam curling up like ghosts between his hands. Lace was busy chatting with the patrons at a nearby table, her laughter carrying faintly over the hum of conversation.

“So, Lucanis,” Davrin said casually, breaking the silence. “You’ve been a little quiet today. Anything amiss?”

Lucanis looked up, his dark eyes sharp, “I’m not in the mood.” His tone was flat, cold.

For a moment, silence hung between them, but Davrin wasn’t one to back down so easily. He leaned back in his chair, watching Lucanis carefully. “I see that,” he said finally. “Wondering if I can help you out with that?”

Lucanis sipped his coffee, his gaze distant, and he could tell he was mulling something over. “You know Rook well,” the assassin said after a long pause. “Probably better than I.”

Davrin shifted in his chair, not entirely sure where this was going. He prayed to the Maker it didn’t involve knives. “Ahhh, yes,” he replied cautiously. “Though I’d say you know our fearless leader pretty well too.”

“I’m not so sure of that.” Lucanis’s words were quiet but firm, his eyes flicking back to him for a moment before returning to his coffee cup.

Davrin leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “I’m guessing you’re looking for answers,” he said lightly, nodding toward the mug. “Doubtful you’ll find them in there, my friend.”

A faint, almost reluctant smile tugged at Lucanis’s lips. “Perhaps not,” he admitted. “But coffee is good for reflection.” He paused, the weight of his thoughts pressing down on him visibly. “I’ve done something. I know I have. But she won’t tell me what it is, and I don’t know how to fix it.”

“Well, I know what you’ve done.”

Davrin smiled slyly, taking a sip of his beer like he wasn’t about to drop a bombshell. “It’s your lucky day, Crow.”

Lucanis stared at him, his mouth slightly agape. “You know?”

The Warden nodded, leaning back in his chair with a grin. “Sure do. And I can’t say it’s an easy fix—for you, at least. But,” he added, setting his mug down with a heavy clink, “if you applied as much effort into correcting your mistake as you do into flirting with a certain detective, you might just win her heart back.”

Davrin punctuated his sentence with a deep, exaggerated gulp of his drink, clearly pleased with himself.

Lucanis just looked at him, his face blank, and said nothing for the longest while. The lively chatter and laughter of the tavern seemed to fill the silence as Davrin waited, unsure if he had heard him.

“Flirting?” Lucanis repeated, his tone a mix of disbelief and offense. “With Neve? Flirting, as in me being suggestive with Neve?”

Davrin smirked, raising an eyebrow. “Do you need to say it a third time, Crow? Whatever way you cut it, it still sounds a bit... shit.”

Lucanis blinked, his mouth opening slightly as if to argue, but Davrin pressed on, clearly enjoying himself.

“I guess Rook just got fed up with hearing about you wanting to buy Neve fresh fish and flowers at the market.” He leaned closer, his voice dropping conspiratorially. “Oh, and I think she said—” Davrin cleared his throat for dramatic effect—“and I quote: ‘And he’s all, “Wow, Neve, great shot,” while I’ve just literally slaughtered ten thousand darkspawn, and not once does that man say anything.’”

He leaned back with a satisfied grin, taking another sip of his beer. “Yeah, I think that about covers the gist of what she vented to me for a solid 45 minutes.”

“Mierda,” Lucanis muttered under his breath, running a hand through his hair.

Davrin waved at the serving girl over with a grin. “Yes, you’re screwed, Lucanis,” he said cheerfully. “But, as I mentioned, you can make this better… I think.” He ordered another beer for himself and a fresh coffee for his brooding friend.

Lucanis’s brow furrowed, his voice low and resigned. “What else did she say? I need to know just how much of a gilipollas I’ve been.”

Davrin laughed, the sound loud enough to turn a few heads nearby. “I’m assuming that’s something bad—and if it is, you deserve it.” He leaned back, his grin widening. “Let’s see… what else did she say? Oh, right!”

Davrin sat forward, lowering his voice to mimic Rook’s, exaggerating her frustration: ‘Nothing! I get nothing. It’s infuriating. What is wrong with me? Neve and Lucanis flirt all the fucking time, and I’M RIGHT FUCKING THERE! They just flirt like I’m invisible.’ He leaned back with a satisfied smirk. “And, of course, more liberal usage of the word ‘fuck.’”

“I don’t know what to say,” Lucanis muttered, his voice low. He slumped back in his chair, looking more defeated than Davrin had ever seen him. “I’m not sure what I’m meant to say. I don’t mean anything by it—the flirting. I never thought…”

“No, you didn’t,” Davrin cut in sharply, holding up a hand to stop him. “Why would you? You ask her for advice on gifts for Neve, buy her nothing, and expect everything to be fine?” He shook his head, leaning forward. “Shit, Lucanis, you could pick Rook a flower off a random bush in Arlathan, and she’d be insufferably happy for days. I do it all the time for her, and I don’t even want to fuck her.”

Lucanis’s brow furrowed deeper, but he didn’t interrupt.

Davrin leaned back with a grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Bare minimum, my friend. Bare. Minimum. And you’ve somehow managed to fall below that. Impressive, really.”

He punctuated his words with a long swig of his beer, shaking his head as he set the mug down.

“So, this is how you’re going to fix this,” Davrin began, pointing a finger at Lucanis for emphasis. “After we’re done at this outpost, we’re heading home, and you are going to beg for some kind of forgiveness. Kneel if you have to. Hell, throw in a prayer to the Maker while you’re at it and hope that gorgeous woman decides to give you another chance.”

Lucanis stared at him, his mouth opening slightly, but Davrin didn’t give him the chance to speak.

“And keep your damn mouth shut around Neve,” Davrin continued, leaning forward for extra emphasis. “I get it—Neve is damn fine to look at. But those thoughts? Inside thoughts, not outside thoughts, Lucanis. And for the love of everything holy, make sure your demon is on board with this too.”

Lucanis fiddle with the handle on his cup, guilt practically radiating off him, but Davrin wasn’t done.

“She likes you, I know she does. But she’s hurt, and a woman scorned is a terrifying force of nature.”

Davrin sat back, arms crossed, looking entirely too pleased with himself. “So what’s the plan, Crow?”

“I have no fucking idea,” Lucanis muttered, running a hand down his face. “I’ll think of something. I’ll fix this.”

He sounded more like he was trying to convince himself than Davrin.

“It better be good,” Davrin said pointedly, leaning back in his chair. “Because she is pissed, and I don’t blame her. And for the love of the Maker, can you tell her that you like her? It’s clear as day to me, but she has no idea. She thinks you don’t even see her.”

Lucanis opened his mouth to retort, but Davrin barreled on.

“This whole ‘I’m possessed by a demon and I can’t love anyone’ trope is old, Lucanis. If you can charm Neve halfway around Minrathous, you can bloody well lavish some of that charm on Rook.”

“I’ll fix it,” Lucanis said firmly, though the conviction in his voice wavered just slightly. “And… thank you, for letting me know.”

Davrin gave him a hearty pat on the back, his grin equal parts teasing and supportive. “I don’t envy you, Lucanis. I thought fighting the ancient Gods was going to be tough, but this? Seems like you’ve got your work cut out for you.”

Lucanis let out a quiet breath, half a smile tugging at his lips. He knew Davrin was right.

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

He found her up on the balcony, as he expected. Rook often went there to read when she needed space from everyone else. Davrin slid onto the bench beside her, and they sat in comfortable silence, the quiet of the moment broken only by the rustle of pages and the distant sounds of the Lighthouse.

Assan nuzzled his head against Rook’s arm, demanding pats, which she happily obliged, scratching behind the young griffon’s ears.

“It’s good to have you back,” she said finally, her voice soft but genuine. “I missed you. Did it go well?”

Davrin smiled, leaning back. “Of course it did. Harding is a terrible cook, though... but apart from that, we got the job done.”

Rook huffed a laugh, but before she could reply, Davrin added, almost too casually, “Oh, and I spoke to the Crow.”

Rook froze for a moment, her smile faltering. “Oh, Maker, how did that go?” She waved a hand before he could answer. “You know what? Don’t tell me. I’ve been perfectly happy here without him.”

Davrin turned his head, giving her a pointed side-eye. “Sure, sure... you’ve been perfectly happy.”

Rook glared at him over the top of her book, but he wasn’t done.

“He knows what he’s done wrong now,” Davrin continued with a shrug, “and is, and I quote, ‘formulating a plan,’ whatever the fuck that means.”

“A plan?” Rook repeated, her gaze drifting off into the endless expanse of the Fade sky. She hesitated, her fingers absently scratching Assan’s feathers as she gathered her thoughts. “I’m going to ask you something, and I want complete honesty. Even if it’s not what I want to hear.”

Davrin tilted his head, his smile softening. “Always.”

Rook turned to him, her voice quieter now, almost vulnerable. “Does the man even remotely like me?”

Davrin’s grin widened as he leaned back against the railing, taking a moment before answering. “Rook,” he said slowly, “I watched the blood drain out of the his face when I laid it all out on the table for him. I have never seen such a sorry sight.” He paused, his tone turning more sincere. “If that’s any indication of what he’s feeling, I think he’s sweet on you.”

Rook’s lips pressed into a thin line, her expression unreadable.

“He’s clueless,” Davrin added with a shrug. “I doubt he’s ever had a relationship before. Doesn’t excuse what he did, but I know he’ll fix it—or at least try to.”

Rook leaned her head on his shoulder, her voice barely above a whisper. “Why is life so hard? Everything feels so complicated, and I’m so tired. I know you said I shouldn’t compare myself to anyone, but… I don’t always feel strong, you know?” She paused, her fingers idly stroking Assan’s feathers. “Have I blown this all out of proportion? I think… I think I need to speak to Neve. She’s lovely—I know she is.”

Davrin stayed quiet for a long moment, his usual humor replaced by a thoughtful stillness.

“I think, sometimes, Rook,” he said softly, “you don’t see yourself the way the rest of us see you. At the heart of it all, you’re a good person. And yes, you’re beautiful too.”

Rook shifted slightly, about to protest, but Davrin pressed on.

“People come in all shapes and sizes. That doesn’t make anyone worth less than the next person. Maybe instead of comparing yourself to what you’re not, you should take a hard look at all the amazing things you are. All the shit you’ve accomplished under impossible odds. Hell, you’ve even put Solas in his place a few times—and that guy’s a dick.”

“That’s a weird way to ask me out on a date, Dav,” Rook said with a small smile, her eyes glinting with playful mischief.

Davrin laughed out loud, the sound echoing through the balcony. “You wish, de Riva. You and me would never work out.” He leaned back, grinning. “Besides, I come with a kid in tow—parenthood is tough.”

Rook chuckled, scratching Assan under the chin as the griffon chirped contentedly.

“Nah,” Davrin continued, “I think you’re more suited to the stabbity-stab life of Crow intrigue. I’m just a simple man, a Grey Warden with modest needs. You’d outlive me, no doubt, and I can’t have you being all mopey about the charming and heroic warrior you once knew.”

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

She heard the faint rustle of a note slipping under her door just as she was drifting off to sleep. For a moment, she considered leaving it there until morning, her exhaustion tugging at her. But curiosity got the better of her.

Pulling the blanket tightly around her shoulders, she swung her legs over the edge of the bed, shivering as her feet touched the cold floor. With a quiet sigh, she padded across the room, picked up the envelope, and sank into the worn couch by the window.

The candlelight flickered softly, casting long shadows as she slid her finger under the seal. The handwriting inside was instantly familiar, and her breath caught as she unfolded the letter.

-----

Rook,

I have thought about what to write in this letter to you for days as we made our way back home. I am usually good at making plans and coming up with solutions to any problem. Unfortunately, in this case, I am the problem, and I don’t know how to fix the hurt I’ve caused you.

That being said, I will try to make this right. If you decide not to accept my apology, I will understand. But if you can find it in your heart to let me make this up to you, I would be grateful.

Meet me in Treviso tomorrow evening at my favourite café—you know the one. We went there not long after I joined you at the Lighthouse.

I will wait for you.

—Lucanis

-----

Rook sank back into her couch, the letter still clutched against her chest. Stupid Antivan man, she thought, her lips twitching into a faint smile despite herself.

She couldn’t deny it—no matter how frustrated she was, no matter how much she wanted to stay angry—she was willing to hear him out.

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

There was a knock at the door.

“Can I come in, Rook?” Neve’s voice was soft but firm.

From inside, she heard a flurry of shuffling, a thud, and several muffled expletives. Finally, the door creaked open.

“Yes, come in,” Rook said, rubbing her toe with a wince. “I’m just getting ready to…”

Neve smiled knowingly. “Meet Lucanis in Treviso. I know.”

Rook sighed, slumping back slightly. “Of course you know. He probably told you.”

She moved to the couch, sitting down to pull on her boots, her movements stiff with nervous energy. Neve stepped inside, her gaze drifting to the window where the shimmering fish swam lazily outside.

“You really do have the best room at the Lighthouse,” Neve remarked, her voice distant. “No wisps, just the fish.” She turned back to Rook, her expression softening. “No, he didn’t tell me. Davrin did.”

Rook paused, her hands hovering over her laces.

“I wanted to stop by and tell you to enjoy yourself,” Neve continued. “If I know Lucanis, he’ll have a wonderful evening planned for you.” She hesitated for a moment, then stepped closer, her tone quieter but no less sincere. “And I also wanted to tell you... I envy you.”

Rook’s head snapped up in surprise. “Envy me?”

Neve gave a small, bittersweet smile. “He’s a good man, apart from the whole abomination thing he’s got going on.” Her smile widened slightly, a hint of humor in her voice. “I’ll admit, I entertained the idea of him and me once. But it was clear his heart had already chosen another.”

Rook opened her mouth to respond, but Neve cut her off gently.

“Like all men, he’s a bit of an idiot, and he’s made mistakes,” Neve said, her gaze steady. “But if you let him, he’ll spend the rest of his life making it up to you.”

“I don’t know what to say,” Rook admitted, her voice quieter now. “I do feel stupid for being unkind to you. I’m sorry about that.”

Neve waved the apology away with a small smile. “No need for deep and meaningfuls, Rook. We’re both busy women with jobs to do. But tonight?” She stepped closer, her expression softening. “You have a date with a Crow.”

Rook shifted awkwardly, Neve’s eyes scanning her as if assessing her readiness. “I know,” Rook said, glancing down at herself. “I’m in my leathers. I probably should have dressed—”

Neve cut her off with a laugh. “I saw Lucanis leave for the Eluvian. He was dressed in his too. Are you Crows ever not on the clock?”

Rook chuckled despite herself. “You’ve met my boss, right? Viago?”

Neve grinned. “Point taken.” She reached for the door, her hand hovering for a moment before turning back. “Anyway, enjoy your evening. I hope it’s everything you need and want.”

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

Davrin had insisted on accompanying her through the Eluvian to Treviso, despite her protests.

“You didn’t need to escort me, Dav,” Rook said as they stepped out into the bustling city. She smoothed down her cloak, her tone exasperated but affectionate. “I’m more than capable of navigating a city I’ve lived in most of my life.”

“Yeah, I know,” Davrin replied with a casual shrug. “But I did need to come here. Lucanis has me set up with his blacksmith. And, well…” He paused, glancing sideways at her. “I wanted to make sure you got here okay. If things go south, you know I’m around.”

Rook nudged him with her elbow, a small smile tugging at her lips. “I’ve never had a brother, but you are bordering on the whole ‘protective big brother’ vibes right now. And I have to say, it suits you.”

Davrin smiled shyly, looking away as he rubbed the back of his neck. “I know you’re pissed at Dellamorte,” he said softly. “I get it. But let him speak. Give him a chance, Rook.”

She sighed, her gaze dropping for a moment. “I’m not that angry anymore. I spoke to Neve before heading here—she came to my room.”

Davrin raised an eyebrow, his expression suddenly amused. “Please tell me she left said room. I know what you Crows are like,” he added with a chuckle.

Rook rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress a grin. “She’s very much alive, thank you. And she said something… odd. Something I wasn’t expecting.”

“Oh?” Davrin leaned in, curious.

“She said she was envious of me,” Rook admitted, her voice tinged with disbelief.

Davrin stopped in his tracks, raising both eyebrows now. “Well, well,” he said with exaggerated flair. “It seems we’ve come full circle. Now she’s jealous of you! I believe I’m experiencing whiplash.”

As they walked along the bustling streets of her hometown, Rook couldn’t ignore the faint queasiness in her stomach. She wasn’t angry anymore—not really. More… disgruntled. But there was no venom behind the feeling now. Lucanis had made a mistake, and, if she was being honest with herself, she’d probably blown it out of proportion—a tendency she sometimes leaned into more than she should.

At least she’d managed to entertain everyone at the Lighthouse with the intrigue and drama.

“Ahhh, I love it here,” Davrin mused, breaking her train of thought. His eyes roamed the lively street, the laughter and chatter of the city swirling around them. “Great atmosphere, excellent food, and some rather beautiful distractions for the taking.”

Rook rolled her eyes, her nerves briefly forgotten as she fought back a smirk.

“And it seems,” Davrin added with a dramatic flourish as they neared the café, “I have delivered you to your destination, my Queen.” He swept into an exaggerated bow, his grin practically splitting his face.

“Maker, you’re an idiot,” Rook said, shaking her head with a smile. “But I love you despite it.”

Davrin grinned and placed both hands firmly on her shoulders, leaning in just slightly. “You’ve got this, Rook. Go forth and get your man and—let him speak. He can actually be pretty good at it, you know, when he’s not saying all the wrong things.”

Rook took a deep breath, her nerves settling just enough to nod. “Wish me luck?” she asked, her voice wavering slightly.

Davrin shook his head, his grin softening into something more earnest. “Nah, you don’t need it. You’ve got this, girl. No luck required.”

He stepped ahead and held the door open for her. She squared her shoulders and walked through, the warm hum of the café greeting her as she crossed the threshold.

Davrin lingered outside for a moment, watching her disappear inside. He knew, deep down, it would all be okay. But still, a small pang of worry tugged at him—for his friend, for her heart, and for the man she was about to face.

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

The café was empty.

Anxiety, her old and unwelcome friend, crept up her spine as she glanced around the dimly lit space. Had she gotten the wrong day? The wrong time? Her stomach twisted uncomfortably as she dug into her bag, pulling out the note Lucanis had sent. She unfolded it with shaky fingers, scanning the words again, double-checking that she hadn’t misread anything.

No. She was in the right place.

But as her eyes flicked to the counter, the absence of anyone behind it made her chest tighten further. The café felt eerily quiet, the usual hum of conversation replaced by the soft ticking of a clock.

Now she felt like the idiot. Where was he? And why was she standing awkwardly in an empty coffee shop at eight o’clock at night?

As a Crow, this screamed assassination attempt, and the thought made her pulse quicken. She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself, but her hand instinctively drifted to the hilt of the blade hidden beneath her cloak.

Not that she’d ever killed anyone with a dirk before—a bow and arrows was her usual go-to—but the weight of the blade under her fingers offered some small comfort. Her unease grew as she wandered further into the café, cautiously checking dark corners and peeking around the pillars.

She moved closer to the counter, her nerves prickling with every step, when suddenly, Lucanis popped up from behind it.

“Maker’s breath!” Rook yelped, jumping back, her heart hammering as she glared at him.

Lucanis stood there, his dark eyes warm as they met hers, and a small, gorgeous smile spread across his lips—the one that always managed to disarm her.

“Rook,” he said softly, almost as if he couldn’t believe it. “You came.”

“Why were you hiding behind the counter?!” Rook exclaimed, her voice sharp with surprise.

Lucanis straightened, brushing imaginary dust from his leathers. “I was looking for sugar,” he said matter-of-factly. “I know you like your coffee sweet and hot. Good news: I found it.”

He turned his attention to the coffee pot, busying himself with making their drinks as if nothing about this was out of the ordinary.

Rook crossed her arms, glancing around the empty café. “And you now own this place?” she asked, her tone tinged with amusement.

Lucanis smirked, glancing at her over his shoulder. “I asked the owner for a favor and promised to pay him back with a free contract.”

Rook blinked in surprise before letting out a laugh. “I’m not sure if I should be flattered or not,” she said, shaking her head. “You never work for free.”

“Sometimes I do,” Lucanis said with a small smile, handing her the steaming cup. “Let’s sit… the table over there.”

He gestured toward a cozy corner, and Rook’s gaze followed. The table had been set perfectly, a small display of her favorite desserts arranged neatly on a plate, waiting for her.

Her lips twitched in a faint smile as she followed him. They settled into their chairs, and for a moment, a comfortable silence fell between them as they both enjoyed the first few sips of their drinks.

Lucanis leaned back, cradling his cup in his hands. “Good coffee...And yours?”

Rook took another sip, savoring the warmth and sweetness. It was perfect—just the way she liked it. “You know it’s good,” she replied, glancing at him over the rim of her cup. “If there’s one thing you never fail at, it’s making it exactly the way I like it.”

A satisfied smile spread across his face, lighting his dark eyes.

Setting her cup down, Rook slipped off her gloves and laid them neatly on the table, the nervous energy in her hands too much to contain. Lucanis noticed, of course—he always did. He knew her tells. Whenever she was anxious, she’d fidget, her fingers tracing the stitching of her coat over and over again or right now, fiddling with her gloves,

“Rook…” he began, his voice soft, testing the waters, “I’m sorry—” , but Rook cut him off.

“I know I’m an idiot,” she blurted, her words tumbling out in a rush. “I should have just told you, and instead it became this whole thing involving everyone, and I didn’t mean for it to get so... big. It was stupid of me.”

Lucanis watched her for a long moment, his gaze steady and unreadable. Then, without a word, he placed his hand gently over hers.

“Rook,” he said softly, his voice calm but firm. “Why do you do that?”

“Do what? I’m not doing anything,” she replied, immediately defensive. She picked up her cup again, taking a long sip—anything to avoid his gaze.

“Blaming yourself. Apologising for things you don’t need to apologise for,” he said, his thumb brushing lightly against her knuckles. “I am the one to blame for your worries. I was the one who hurt you.”

“Yes, but you didn’t know,” Rook said quickly, her words tumbling out before she could think better of them. “And if I hadn’t been so damn stubborn—or dare I say petulant—I could have just told you. But I felt… well, I did feel stupid.”

Lucanis opened his mouth to respond, but she cut him off, her voice softening as she admitted, “You were an arse though.”

A faint smile flickered across his face, but he stayed quiet, waiting.

“Why did you do it?” she asked, her eyes meeting his briefly before darting away. “It’s okay if you want to—”

She stopped herself mid-sentence, before her mouth could betray her further, she grabbed one of the neatly arranged cakes from the plate and shoved it into her mouth.

It worked—a bit too well. She sat frozen for a moment, cheeks puffed with cake, as the realisation of what she’d just done hit her. Across the table, Lucanis raised an eyebrow, the corners of his lips twitching as he tried not to laugh.

It took forever to get through the sugary treat—she’d completely forgotten how chewy they were. Looking effortlessly graceful with a mouthful of cake was not the impression she’d been going for.

Lucanis, ever observant, seized the opportunity to speak before she could finish. It might be the only way to get a word in.

“Yes,” he began, his tone quiet but deliberate. “I fully accept your blunt observation of myself.”

Rook raised an eyebrow at him, still chewing, but didn’t interrupt.

“Why I did it?” Lucanis continued, his gaze dropping briefly to the table. “It’s… was easy to flirt with Neve. A distraction from what’s in my mind, who shares my body, and everything else—fighting Gods, dealing with the Blight…” He paused, his voice softening. “But, also, it means nothing. And when it means nothing, there’s no possibility of consequences.”

“Consequences?” she managed, still chewing, her words slightly muffled.

“Yes,” Lucanis replied, his voice steady but quieter now. “If I don’t say those things to you, it’s not because I don’t notice you, enjoy your company, or desire someone else. It’s quite the opposite.”

Rook froze mid-chew, her eyes widening slightly as she watched him, his gaze fixed firmly on her.

“But how would you know this?” he continued, his tone filled with a rare vulnerability. “I’ve never told you. And I have never reciprocated any of the affection you have so generously given me.”

“But you said consequences, and I’m still not following,” Rook said, finally finishing her cake.

Lucanis sighed, frustration flickering across his face. Maker, he wished he were better with words—like his cousin Illario. “Honestly, I don’t know what the fuck I’m trying to say right now.” He ran a hand through his hair, glancing away before meeting her eyes again.

“I’m not good at this, Rook,” he admitted, his voice quieter now. “But I struggle with you because… because you mean something to me. You’re not just a distraction. You’re something that has—” He hesitated, the next word slipping out before he could stop it. “...weight.”

He saw her gaze drop instantly to her coffee, her expression unreadable.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Lucanis’s stomach dropped. Why the fuck did you say that? Davrin had specifically told him not to mention the word weight.

“Yes, I’m aware I have ‘weight,’” she replied, her tone dry as she raised an eyebrow at him.

Lucanis opened his mouth to respond, but she cut him off, gesturing to the plate. “Thank you for highlighting that right after watching me devour at least three of these cakes.”

She leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms with a mock-serious expression. “And for the record, they were delicious, and I have zero regrets eating them.”

“What I meant is… you’re special to me,” Lucanis said, his voice quieter now, his dark eyes meeting hers. “To Spite, as well. And that’s dangerous to admit. It’s information that could be used against me—or you. And Maker knows Viago will not be pleased.”

He paused, frustration clear on his face. “I never flirted with you because… because I care for you. More than a friend.” His voice softened, the words weighted with sincerity. “Hopefully, I get to be more. But I’m the most foolish of men when it comes to matters of the heart. I’m not good at… any of this.”

Rook’s gaze shifted, taking in the café around her. The warm, romantic glow of the lights, the beautifully laid-out table, the intimacy of the setting—it all seemed so deliberate, so unlike the Lucanis she thought she knew.

Her eyes landed back on him, and she arched an eyebrow. “You’re not good at being romantic? Or apologies? Because, by the way, you still haven’t said sorry.”

“Despite my Antivan heritage, we aren’t all blessed with my cousin’s gift for romance,” Lucanis said with a wry smile. “But I’ll try—for you.”

He stood, pushing his chair back with a soft scrape against the floor, and stepped around the table.

“And this,” he continued, his voice dropping to something softer, almost reverent, “is where I kneel at your feet and beg for your forgiveness.”

Before Rook could react, he sank to one knee before her, taking her hand gently in his. His eyes lifted to meet hers, his expression utterly sincere.

“I am sorry,” he began, his voice steady but weighted with emotion. “For any hurt I caused you. I am sorry for my misplaced charm. I am sorry for letting you think you are anything less than breathtaking to me.”

Her breath caught, the words hitting her like a wave.

“I am sorry you ever felt you were not enough,” he went on, his thumb brushing softly against her knuckles, “when you are—more than enough in every way a woman can be. I am sorry. Truly sorry.”

He paused, his voice softening even further as he added, “If you can find it in your heart to forgive me, I swear to you—you will never doubt my affection for you for as long as I breathe.”

Rook sat in silence, her gaze fixed on the man kneeling before her. She turned her hand slightly in his, lacing her fingers through his as she searched for the right words.

“How am I supposed to stay angry at you now?” she said finally, her voice soft but tinged with exasperation. “The cakes, the candlelight, and that—” she gestured toward him with her free hand—“what you just said… Maker’s breath, you’re impossible.”

Lucanis’s lips curved into a hesitant smile, hope flickering in his eyes.

She sighed, shaking her head slightly. “And… I forgive you,” she added, her voice steady now, but her cheeks flushed.

“But I swear,” Rook continued, her eyes narrowing slightly, “if you ever make me feel that way again, I’ll take a contract out on you. Better than that—” she leaned forward, her tone dropping for emphasis—“I’ll kill you myself.”

Lucanis tilted his head, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he rose to his feet.

“I’d like to see you try,” he replied smoothly, settling back into his chair across from her, “Promise me there will be lots of struggling,” Lucanis added, his voice dropping into a playful drawl. “Rolling around, grabbing for each other’s daggers…” He leaned forward slightly, a wicked glint in his eyes. “And sweaty. It’ll be sweaty, right?”

Urrgghhhh. She hated it when he turned it back on her like that.

Rook crossed her arms, trying to maintain her composure, but she could feel the heat creeping into her cheeks. She wasn’t nearly as good as he was at making death threats sound… sultry.

“You’re insufferable,” she muttered, grabbing her coffee and taking a long sip to avoid saying anything else that might give him the satisfaction of knowing he’d flustered her.

“Are you flirting with me, Dellamorte?” Rook asked, a sly smile tugging at her lips. “I thought you didn’t do that.”

Lucanis leaned forward slightly, his dark eyes glinting with amusement. “First time for everything, de Riva,” he replied smoothly. “You could say I’m making up for lost time. Curious are we?”

“I’m not sure if I should say yes or no,” Rook admitted, a nervous smile playing at her lips.

Lucanis leaned forward slightly, his gaze steady, his voice soft but teasing. “Say yes. Take a risk. See what happens.”

He could see the conflict in her eyes, the struggle between protecting her heart and giving in to her curiosity.

“Yes,” she said finally, her voice quiet but steady.

Lucanis half-smiled, standing as he offered his hand. She took it, and together they walked to the balcony overlooking the canal. The soft light reflected off the water below, casting shimmering patterns onto the stone railing.

He leaned against the cool stone, his hand still firmly holding hers.

“So… I said yes, and now we’re looking at…” Rook began, her voice tinged with nervous humor.

“For the love of the Maker, Rook,” Lucanis interrupted, turning to face her fully. “Shut up and let me kiss you. Just stop… talking.”

Before she could respond, he closed the distance between them, his mouth brushing against hers in a soft, deliberate kiss. His arm slid around her waist, pulling her closer as the kiss deepened, and Rook melted into him, her heart racing.

He was a good kisser.

Cliché as it was, she slowed time around them with an enchantment, savoring the moment as the rest of the world blurred into nothing.

Lucanis smiled against her lips, not breaking the kiss, his voice low and warm. “I know what you’re doing, Rook,” he murmured, his lips still grazing hers.

But she didn’t care.

[uhbambii]

Warm Evenings

Lucanis Dellamorte stretched out lazily on the plush couch in the sitting room of his family villa, the soft glow of the evening sun streaming in through the large windows. His dark hair was slightly mussed from Rook’s fingers combing through it absentmindedly earlier, and his deep brown eyes, rich and warm as espresso, glimmered with a rare tranquility.

Rook lay draped against his chest, her head nestled just below his chin. Her slight frame fit perfectly against him, and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat was a soothing counterpoint to the muted sounds of the villa beyond their cozy cocoon.

“You know,” Rook murmured, her voice soft and laced with amusement, “Viago and Teia were at it again earlier.”

Lucanis chuckled, a low, gravelly sound that made Rook smile. “Flirting like their lives depend on it?”

“Always,” she replied with a laugh. “Viago was leaning against the doorway, reciting some ridiculous poem, and Teia just ate it up. She’s pretending she doesn’t care, but we both know she loves it.”

Lucanis grinned. “You’re right. Teia would gut someone for saying she has a soft spot, but the moment Viago walks in…” He trailed off, tilting his head to look down at Rook. “I don’t know how they manage to keep a straight face half the time. Maybe they think we don’t notice.”

Rook smirked, tracing lazy circles on his chest with her finger. “They’re not exactly subtle.”

“Subtle?” Lucanis scoffed, rolling his eyes dramatically. “They’ve redefined the word ‘obvious.’ Honestly, I’m tempted to start flirting openly with you just to give them a taste of their own medicine.”

Rook raised an eyebrow, glancing up at him. “Oh? And how would you do that, Lucanis Dellamorte?” Her tone was playful, teasing.

He smirked, his dark eyes sparkling with mischief. “I’d start by dramatically throwing myself at your feet, professing my undying devotion.”

Rook burst out laughing, the sound light and infectious. “You’d never!”

“I would! And then I’d serenade you from the balcony. Viago would have to unwillingly listen to his little sister be serenaded.”

Her laughter only grew, and Lucanis grinned triumphantly, clearly pleased with himself. “Mark my words, uccellina, One day, you’ll even find me reciting sonnets in the middle of the market square.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” she said, her voice still thick with laughter.

The gentle warmth of the moment wrapped around them like a soft blanket. Slowly, Lucanis’ breathing evened out, and his arms grew slack around her. Rook tilted her head slightly to look up at him and found his eyes closed, his lips parted as he slipped into a peaceful sleep.

Carefully, she shifted in his arms, wiggling free without waking him. She paused for a moment, watching the way the evening light highlighted the sharp planes of his face. He looked so peaceful, so at ease. Smiling softly, she padded off to the kitchen.

——————————————————————————

As Rook padded into the kitchen, her thoughts swirled with the comforting idea of freshly brewed coffee. She reached for the kettle and set it on the stovetop, humming softly to herself. The soft clinks of cups and spoons echoed in the cozy space as she moved about, the domestic rhythm soothing and familiar.

Just as she began scooping coffee grounds into the pot, two warm arms wrapped around her waist from behind, pulling her gently against a solid chest. Lucanis rested his chin on her shoulder, his dark eyes still a little hazy from his nap, but his lips curved into a small, mischievous smile.

“Caught you,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing. “Trying to sneak off and leave me alone. Shame on you, uccellina.”

She grinned, shaking her head. “I was making coffee, not abandoning you. Big difference.”

“Mmm,” he hummed, clearly unconvinced. “You could’ve woken me, you know. It’s cruel to leave me cold and alone while you’re in here, hoarding all the warmth.”

Rook laughed softly, placing a hand over his where it rested on her waist. “You were too peaceful to wake up. Besides, I thought you’d appreciate the smell of coffee more than me nudging you.”

Lucanis tightened his hold slightly, swaying them both gently from side to side. “Fair point,” he admitted. “But now that I’m awake, I think I should help. Or, at least, supervise.”

“Oh, you’re supervising now?” she teased, tilting her head to glance at him. “You don’t trust me with coffee-making? Afraid I’ll make a Neve brew?”

“You wound me,” he said dramatically, his dark eyes sparkling with humor. “I’ll have you know, I can make an excellent cup of coffee. In fact, I’m better at it than you and definitely Neve.” He chuckled.

“Big words for someone who’s holding me hostage instead of grabbing the sugar,” she shot back, smirking.

Lucanis laughed, his breath warm against her ear. “All right, all right. I’ll grab the sugar.” He reluctantly released her, stepping away to rummage through the cupboards, his tousled hair falling into his eyes. Rook watched him for a moment, her chest tightening with an inexplicable wave of affection.

When he returned with the sugar jar, he set it on the counter and leaned against it, watching her as she poured the boiling water into the coffee pot. “You know,” he said, his tone shifting to something softer, “this is nice.”

“Making coffee?” she asked, glancing at him with a raised eyebrow.

“Being here. With you. Doing something so… normal,” he said, gesturing to the scene around them. “I’ve had enough chaos in my life to know how rare this is.”

Rook paused, her hands stilling for a moment as she looked at him. His dark eyes held hers, earnest and warm, and the weight of his words settled over her like a soft blanket. “I think I needed this too,” she admitted quietly, her voice tinged with the same tenderness.

He smiled, the corners of his mouth tilting upward in that roguish way that always made her heart flutter. “I’m glad we’re on the same page.” He stepped closer, his hand brushing hers as he reached for the cups. “Now, let me prove to you that I’m more than just a charming face. I’ll finish the coffee, and you can sit there looking adorable.”

Rook laughed, swatting at his arm. “Adorable? That’s your grand romantic line?”

“It worked, didn’t it?” he shot back with a grin, deftly pouring the coffee into the cups and adding just the right amount of sugar and cream to each. He handed her a cup, their fingers brushing briefly, and for a moment, the kitchen fell quiet, the world narrowing down to just the two of them.

As they stood there, sipping their coffee and exchanging soft smiles, Lucanis suddenly reached out and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. His fingers lingered, tracing the line of her jaw as he looked at her with an expression so full of warmth it made her knees weak.

“I hope you know,” he said softly, his voice dropping to a near whisper, “that these little moments with you? They’re everything to me.”

Rook felt her cheeks flush, but she met his gaze steadily, her lips curving into a small smile. “Lucanis…”

“No, let me finish,” he murmured, stepping closer. “I’ve been in places— the Ossuary… where I didn’t know if I’d ever feel… this. This kind of peace. But you—you’ve given me that. You’ve given me so much more than I ever thought I deserved.”

Her heart swelled, and she reached up to rest a hand on his chest. “You deserve all of it,” she said softly. “And more.”

Lucanis’ smile widened slightly, his hand cupping her cheek as he leaned in to press a soft, lingering kiss to her forehead. “You’re going to make me fall even harder for you, Rook,” he teased gently, though his tone was thick with emotion.

“Good,” she whispered, her lips curving into a playful smile. “Because I’m not planning on going anywhere.”

They stood there for a moment longer, the smell of coffee wrapping around them like a warm embrace. Eventually, Lucanis chuckled and stepped back, lifting his cup with a wink. “Now, let’s see if my coffee-making skills really are better than yours.”

Rook rolled her eyes, though her smile didn’t falter. “If they’re not, I’m making the next pot.”

“Deal,” he said, clinking his cup lightly against hers. “But I warn you—I plan on winning this argument. And every other one after that.”

“Dream on, Amorino,” she teased, laughing as they wandered back to the sitting room together, the warmth of their coffee and their shared love making the villa feel like home.

———————————————————————————

Cute little cuddly moment, while also bullying her brother…. Yes!

Uccellina = little bird/little crow

Amorino = Masc. Ver. Of darling

Also deserved, Teia and Viago have some… open dialogue

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

[bg3daydream]

Breakfast (Lucanis x Rook fanfiction)

Lucanis x Female Rook one-shot.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Emmrich nodded graciously and went back to his papers.

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

“Yes!”

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

Finally, he settled for orlesian pancakes. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s your breakfast.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*

NA:

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

I think I want to write more for them.

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

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

[augusts-sketchbook]

veilguard spam part two - some very messy/unfinished Rookanis sketches (no spoilers!) i love these idiots very much and i am 100% on the poly train with these three (in whatever demi/ace capacity that is, dont ask me I'm just here to sketch very fluffy smooches and snuggles)

[xhollowfaerie]

If you like your coffee hot, let me be your coffee pot

You call the shots, babe, I just wanna be yours...

Rookanis fluff and longing, with a cherry of Spite on top. 💕

-

“Rook?”

The rich Antivan accent rang through the main hall, eliciting a raise of two mismatched orbs. A book sprawled open, floating in front of her as the pages seemed to turn of their own volition. The sound of his voice immediately attracted all of the elf's attention, and the book closed itself before taking refuge atop the coffee table.

“Oh…! Hi, Lucanis.”

Mierda. 

The way his name rolled off her tongue… he couldn't even imagine ever getting used to it.

“Smells like… rosemary and vanilla. Longing.”

He couldn't hold Spite back. However, he managed to elicit a giggle from the elf as her scarred hands ran through the ample length of her silken, roseate locks, slowly and soothingly.

“Yes, Spite. It's rosemary oil, great for your hair. The vanilla is the top note of my perfume. Teia gifted it to me, on our last trip to Treviso.”

Lucanis held Teia in high regards, saw her as family; they had both always been around Caterina; she was basically his teasing younger sister. 

Viago, well. He had come to see him as family too, especially as he grew closer to Teia. Old feelings had come to pass. Everything was neutral, calm. As it should be.

Except Teia already had Viago. Why must she keep flirting with Rook, too?

I could have gotten it for you.

‘Jealous’ Spite growled in his ear, and Lucanis thanked the Maker that he managed to suppress him from saying that out loud. He knew Teia’s little affections towards Rook were inoffensive, and mostly meant to irk him. 

The worst part was that Teia saw exactly how Lucanis had looked at Rook since the second she brought him back to Treviso, and that she continued to aggravate him in relation to the feelings that already tormented him day in and day out.

“I really like her, Teia. She’s like the sister I never had” Rook broke their silence once more, and slid across the couch so she could make space. Heat rushed to her face as she pondered for a moment, before continuing with a sheepish smile. “But don’t worry, you’ll always be my favourite Crow.”

“Rook! Is my! Favourite!” Spite barked happily, before Lucanis covered his face in shame. His canine dug into his bottom lip to the point of drawing blood, if only to stop the demon from revealing anymore compromising thoughts.

Lucanis felt his stomach flip, and, unsure of what to do with whatever was fluttering inside of it, tried to gulp it down and clear his throat with an awkward chuckle.

You’ll always be my favourite Rook. 

She laughed sweetly, glancing away. Rook tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and nervously fidgeted with her hands atop her lap.

“I’m glad” she breathed. She sounded… relieved? “Care to join? Sleep seems to be eluding me.”

Something flooded through him, all the way to his fingertips. He tried to shake the feeling off as he approached her with soft steps. He hovered for a moment, unsure if he should sit next to her or across, but she had already invited him to join the free spot by her side, and it would be rude not to accept.

A pile of books towered next to an aromatic porcelain cup, causing Lucanis’s nostrils to flare with anticipation. She bent towards the coffee table and revealed his purple cup from behind the pile, steaming and waiting.

“I… sorry, I made us both coffee out of habit. Seeing your cup next to mine feels oddly comforting. Here, before it gets cold.”

Of course. That's why.

‘Liar.’

“Gracias. Tasting Rook’s famous coffee is an offer I can never refuse.”

She grinned, and he couldn’t help the corners of his lips from tugging upwards, folding his arms as he took a sip. She did the same, before her lips let out a prolonged exhale. Lucanis shivered.

“Ahh. It’s getting there, but still nowhere near Pietra’s. I don’t think I could ever make something that perfect.”

“The profile is… whimsical. Cinnamon, nutmeg. Honey. The beans are slightly charred. And… Ah, yes. Cream, with the faintest hint of…”

Their eyes locked; he felt his breath cut off as he drank her expression in. They were close enough to notice the few freckles dotting her face, beneath her Vallaslin and scars, and the unnatural shine in her left eye. The back of his own itched ever so slightly. Her eyelashes curled beautifully around them, fluttering at him like the wings of a fairy.

“Lavender” he breathed, and her hand dared to slowly slide across the fabric of the couch, inching closer. 

Longing, Spite had said. As he felt his skin prickling from their vague proximity, all he could smell was rosemary. Not even the coffee could keep her from invading all of his senses.

Lucanis froze; he feared the aggressive pace at which his heart hammered against his ribs would be loud enough for her to hear. 

The way the two jewels gazed at him from beneath her lashes felt like he was being put under a spell. The itching got worse, and, as Kore’s sheer robe slid down her perfectly rounded shoulders, the Crow caught a glimpse of her chest, unable to tear his eyes away from the lace neckline of the pale pink chemise, shamefully following the curve of her generous cleavage. The elegance of its silk couldn’t outmatch that of her visage, of the intricate streaks of lightning that decorated her like the brush strokes of a painting, more exquisite than any of Viago’s prized possessions.

‘ALWAYS! ALWAYS RUIN IT, LUCANIS! LONGING! SHE LONGS FOR YOU. FOR US. ARGH, STUPID, STUPID! Let Spite try, take care of Rook. I’ll show her. Desire. Mine. Yours.’

Suddenly, he pulled away and brought a hand up to his face, scrubbing his eyes painfully as he let out a groan of frustration.

“This cursed Fade… why so bad, all of a sudden…” he lamented to himself. Spite repeatedly kicked the couch.

The assassin grit his teeth and directed a very colorful string of Spanish towards Spite under his breath before facing her again.

‘Pretty eye. Pretty color. Like a petal. Tell her. Rook, so pretty. Beautiful. Like a day of spring. TELL HER!’

“Enchanted” it finally dawned on him, with a little help from his usually (extremely) not helpful roommate.

“Your eye. That’s why… it made mine itch.”

A flicker of hurt flashed across her features, and he immediately regretted his words.

“Yes, it’s… They took-”

The table rumbled, and the entire stack of books threatened to fall over; she took a deep breath, inhaling the scent - of Lucanis - of their coffee, steadying her hands so her cup would stop clinking atop the frail porcelain plate.

“I… lost my eye, years ago. After I joined the Dragons, Viper suggested I could get one custom made. I wasn’t great at fighting, and it gave me a huge disadvantage. So I accepted. And… I thought I could use my magic to enchant it. I worked on it for weeks.”

She let out a small sigh, placing her cup down and bringing one hand to her face, to ghost under her artificial eye. “I still can’t see with it, not in the normal sense. But it sees traces of magic, of the Fade. And it moves naturally, so it’s not too obvious.”

When she glanced at him again, his eyes were haunted by a frightening intensity. She had seen him focused before, but… not like this. His stare was so sharp, she felt like gazing at him a moment too long could cut her.

She didn’t look away.

Not even Neve knew, from what Lucanis could tell; he would never push, but the hints were there. She was not the kind of mage he hunted down, crippled and interrogated, before slicing their throats without a spare thought.

His eyes had done this before. In Vyrantium.

When they first met, Rook had lied. She had been lying to everyone, including herself, he suspected, for what he assumed had been months, if not years. That she was Dalish.

He had noticed for a while that details of her stories wouldn’t add up. He had noticed how she always aided the poor, always comforted the disadvantaged, the forgotten. And most of all, he saw the look on her face every single time she killed Vints.

‘We kill them, ALL OF THEM. Make them. Suffer.’ Spite hissed as he slithered around the couch, before tilting his head in front of Rook, reaching out to gently hold a single lock of her hair. 

It was the same as what he saw in the mirror, every time he dared to look. 

That hunger for revenge.

‘So gentle. Like a flower.’

The Crow had never considered that his demon could ever be so careful with something as he watched Spite gingerly twirl streaks of pink between his digits.

‘We kill them. They. Hurt Rook.’

Yes, Lucanis thought instinctively, in a heartbeat. Even Spite was surprised at how quickly they agreed.

We’ll kill every single one. Until there’s nothing left. Until their blood flows like rivers.

“Lucanis?” 

He widened his eyes incredulously as a gentle warmth caressed his skin, the tips of her fingers brushing across his cheek. He had never felt such tenderness.

“Are you alright? Is it Spite? Don’t worry. I’m here. Nothing bad happened.”

He parted his lips to speak, but the words he longed to voice died in his throat, all he could do was panic and pull away, straightening his collar and taking a quick gulp of coffee to steady his mind.

“Lo siento. I do not mean to cause you distress” he hastily replied, watching her shyly retreat and mirror him as she reached for her coffee.

‘She cares for you. For us! Sweet. Lavender. Kiss her. I want. To. KISS. ROOK!’

Thankfully, her honeyed voice overlapped with Spite’s. “No, not at all. Quite the contrary. The cafe, and here, now…with you… I can finally relax” she murmured, smiling down into her cup as she cradled it between her palms.

They chatted idly, and Lucanis offered to listen to her reading her book, if only to calm Spite’s demands. She had flushed, but agreed, and lovingly recited a passage from Hard in Hightown.

He listened intently, until he felt his eyes sliding to a close. Their empty coffee cups rested together near her books. The purple cup casted a protective shadow over white and pink porcelain.

Kore watched him quietly; for how long, she couldn’t remember. She studied his features adoringly, the little moles on his face, the shape of his nose, the very faint wrinkles tailing his eyes, and the sinking shade of exhaustion beneath. Her smile turned into a small frown, and, without warning, she angled towards Spite, who had been sitting between them, doing his best to behave.

“Please. Let him rest?” she pleaded, and one of her hands reached out towards Lucanis. She almost touched him, almost... wistfully tracing the shape of his exhaustion in the air above his face.

“My Crow. He’s so tired.”

The purple humanoid shape that constituted Spite in her enchanted eye nodded begrudgingly, but gestured her hand away from Lucanis, snatching it instead. She couldn’t hear him, but she saw him mouthing a pessimistic ‘fine’. He couldn’t touch her, but he wanted to pretend to hug her hand to his chest, and she obliged.

Kore’s expression softened, leaning in to place a kiss on Spite’s forehead. His excitement almost woke Lucanis, but she placed a finger over her lips, gesturing him to stay quiet. 

“Thank you, Spite. We can keep reading if you want.”

If he had a tail, it would be wagging. He grinned from ear to ear and brought his knees to his chest as Rook’s whispers soothed Lucanis in his sleep, blissfully unaware that she had additionally enchanted her eye (with the help of the Caretaker and Emmrich). She had been able to vaguely see his plus one for quite a while.

[vorchagirl]

Spite 4 Rook

Spite is inspired by some graffiti and decides to decorate the pantry wall - much to Lucanis' embarrassment.

-

Lucanis peered closely at the wall and froze in shock as he caught sight of what the demon had been up to during the night. There, chipped into the stone above the bed, and artistically placed between the blackened outline of his wings which Spite had burnt onto the stone during a particularly nasty outburst, was a love heart. Inside it, in spindly uneven block letters, were the words ‘SPITE & ROOK 4 EVA’. 

Lucanis’ mouth fell open and he almost dropped the blunted dagger in his hand. 

Mierda ! How would he explain this to Rook? The last thing he wanted to do was frighten her away because Spite was acting like a lovesick teenager!

[ofcrowsanddragons]

The First Kiss Scene That Didn't Include Any (Much?) Kissing / Rook's Demisexual Love Letter to Lucanis

Thank you for tagging me in WIP Wednesday, @basedonconjecture! Tagging @dustdeepsea, @i-had-bucky, @teyrnacousland, @thebaldursmouthgazette and @deputyrook if you have anything from fic to meta that you'd like to share.

This is a MUCH later snippet of my Rookanis fic, A Working Relationship, which jumps to the point where a young Crow Rook and an undercover "Luca" are in Minrathous and there are FEELINGS.

Thank you to @thedissonantverses for encouraging me as I worked on figuring out the dynamic between these two.

An earlier side fic, But I Won't Do That includes this bit of context:

Lucanis might have his own blindness, but he knew enough to realize that anything he could offer might not be seen as optional by the younger assassin, and the thought terrified him.

If such a thing happened, Viago could slit his throat and Lucanis would prearrange to hide the body.

Here's the first draft of the first kiss/almost kiss scene. The final version might be different, but I need to write another 20-30k words to get there. (Power dynamics, consent issues addressed, no sex).

I leaned in, placing one hand gently against the back of the chaise. I kept my weight on my feet, ready to step back if I was rebuffed. My whole body was tight with anticipation, my mind ready to pull back at the rejection I knew was coming.

Instead, Luca raised his eyes to mine.

I could drown in them, I thought. His eyes had gone dark with want, for all that he looked at me like something wounded.

He held himself rigid, like he was afraid to move. His jaw was slack, peppered with evening stubble across the warm tones of his skin, and his lips were parted just so.

Without thought, drawn to the heat of him, I reached across his other shoulder and braced my hand against the chaise. I boxed him in, tentative, and the fabric of my sleeve just barely brushed his arm.

I let my weight fall onto the chaise, and the inside of my knee brushed against his thigh. It felt like lightning, and I sucked in a breath, desperate to keep my eyes on Luca, to not be distracted by my own reactions.

He was trembling. He squeezed his eyes shut.

Luca raised a hand from where it rested on the side of the chaise. There was a barely visible shake in the fingers as his arm skirted over the velvet cushions and came to hover near my hip, like he was afraid to touch me. Taking it as a sign of his interest, I sighed out my relief even as I kept the toes of one foot on the floor, ready to pull away if he needed me to.

My back leg trembled, and I wanted nothing more than to fall into his lap. The heat from his muscular thigh on the inside of my leg was agony, and I felt weak with it.

I was afraid to touch him, too. I was afraid to push too far.

“Look at me,” I breathed, inches away from his face.

Warm, brown eyes met mine, and I marvelled at the softness of them. At the smooth planes of his face and the mole next to his hairline. At the crease between his brow and the spot next to his nose. At the creases in his bottom lip.

His tongue darted out on reflex, to wet the lips even as he prepared to push me away.

“You don't have to do this,” he said, even as his eyes fell to my lips and he tilted his face to match mine. The fear in his voice was real. “Please tell me you know that.”

The warm breath from his voice was close enough to feel against my lips, and I bit my lower lip without thinking, sweeping my tongue out to soothe the dryness I found there. My mind felt like it was full of the thick, sweet syrup used by a nearby street vendor.

“I don't know if I can stop,” I said, too honest. Not knowing what he wanted, too full of whatever I was feeling to make room for him, I tasted something like failure at the back of my mouth.

He met my eyes, and his fingers finally brushed against my hip. The lightness of it felt like a brand, striking like a viper through my nerves and into my chest. I had to slap down the instinctive rise of my magic to meet it.

I gasped, falling forward another inch as I struggled to keep my eyes on his.

Luca’s eyebrows were furrowed as he kept his touch light on my hip, his other hand clenched in the cushions. All of the tension in his body was held away from me, in his legs and core and his far arm. I didn't know what he was holding back, but I wanted to beg for it. I wanted him to pull me down and fist his hand in my hair like he was holding the cushion and I knew it was too much.

That light touch, urging me closer. I obeyed without a thought.

Luca tilted his head forward and I let my forehead meet his in a gentle touch. It felt like a cool breeze on a summer day, and I sighed into it with relief, closing my eyes.

“Any advantage you want,” he breathed in promise, “It's yours for the asking. I don't want…”

I should stop, I thought, but I was afraid of what would happen if I did. I was afraid that he would look at me afterward like a student who had tried to seduce him for safety, for power, for resources. For a chance to live.

“You've given me everything I've asked for,” I said, tilting back so that my lips almost brushed his. “Can I ask for something else?”

“Anything within my power,” he vowed, breath ghosting across my lips.

I pulled away enough to meet his eyes, feeling an overwhelming wave of my own emotion threatening to spill out of them.

His hand dropped, instantly. His expression was guarded, on the verge of the desperate triumph of being proven right.

“Believe me,” I begged, meeting his desperation with my own. “Believe me when I say that I want you.”

He searched my face, eyes flickering across my features. “Why?”

I finally stopped resisting the urge to touch, and I let my hands grasp at his shoulders. He startled, like it was a shock I would touch him this way.

The wants of my own flesh barely registered. The only thing I needed was this.

“Because you're beautiful,” I said, reaching for the meaning that meant more than his handsome face or his grace in battle. “Because the first day I met you, you started changing out our rations until everyone had something they enjoyed eating, not just me. Because you're kind when you don't have to be—because when the world tells you not to be, you'll be kinder out of spite.”

His lips twitched with a pull at the corner that was barely a smile. “Acting out of spite is hardly a virtue.”

“I don't care,” I said, leaning fully into his space, drawing both feet up so that I was kneeling on either side of his leg, a blasphemous approximation of an Andrastian chant. “Void damn it, Luca, I'm an assassin. You told me yourself that there's no virtue in what we do.”

His expression changed, slackened into something softer. “You make me wonder if it could be different,” he told me, with something like a smile rising up from his eyes.

My heart was pounding in my ears, as fast as a sparrow’s. I fought the urge to run, feeling the unfairness of doing so when I had trapped Luca so thoroughly. I forced myself to meet his eyes, even as the sensations of the man’s warm body beneath my legs and hands rose into the foreground.

I blew out a breath. “I want you. What do you want?”

Something seemed to rise in him at those words, settling over his face and pulling at his restraint, and it thrilled through me like a wave of electricity. He held fast, holding himself back, only bringing his hand back to my hip in a touch so feather light it risked driving me insane.

“I just…” Luca started, and trailed off like he didn't know what he was trying to say. The hand at my hip settled more firmly into the position he'd use to lead me in a dance. “I want—”

He cut himself off with a growl of frustration and brought his free hand to my shoulder. In one smooth movement, he threw me onto my back on the soft, velvet cushions of the chaise. I had to force myself to relax into it, and I let my arms fall, boneless, along the back and over the edge of the couch.

“Is it too much,” said Luca, kneeling between my legs, with one elbow against the back of the chaise gripping my arm, “To want you to feel like you don't have to be afraid?”

“We're dangerous people,” I said gently, tilting my chin to expose my throat. “Maybe I know what that means, and I trust you not to hurt me.”

He rolled off the chaise into a crouch on the floor. I felt the bitter disappointment at the loss of contact, but I stayed on the cushions, following his movement only with my eyes. I was exhausted, aroused, and beyond ready to retreat into my bedroom to cry into the pillows. The points of warmth on my body that Luca had touched tingled with the awareness of the loss of him. I had been expecting a rejection, but I didn't know what this was.

With too much gentleness, Luca reached from where he had settled on the floor, to hold my hand where I had allowed it to drape over the edge.

He met my eyes. “I don't want you to be afraid.”

I pulled his hand up onto the cushion, slow and telegraphed, forcing him to let go or move so that his knees were closer to the base of the chaise. He chose to move forward, and I turned onto my side. He watched carefully as I pressed a kiss to the palm of his hand, next to the meat of his thumb, and then rested my cheek against it like a pillow. I let my eyes fall shut.

His breathing was even and deliberate in the way that we’re trained to be.

I let my mind drift to the solid mountain of my dreams, where my feet were always on the ground and there was always a way forward, no matter what obstacle rose in front of me.

Frowning, still focusing on the way the imaginary light reflected from the harsh alpine trail, I told him, “I don’t know how to stop being afraid. What does it feel like, when you’re not afraid?”

The sound of wet laughter. “I’m not sure I can answer that right now.”

“Maybe,” I said, opening my eyes, “We can find out together?”

Too much hope was riding on the last word, but Luca didn’t pull away. Instead, the smile—maybe the first real, true smile I had ever seen from him—lit up his eyes in a way that took my breath away. I let what was probably a stunned smile play across my face, in turn.

“Maybe so,” he said, voice soft as he shuffled forward so that he could rest his head against mine.

I let my breathing match his, and let the time pass me by, luxuriating in the closeness of another being who I somehow, miraculously, trusted with more than my life.

[itsrainingpandas]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: The Veilguard (Video Game) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Lucanis Dellamorte/Rook, Lucanis Dellamorte/Rook/Spite, Lucanis Dellamorte & Rook, Viago de Riva & Rook, Andarateia Cantori/Viago de Riva, Andarateia Cantori & Rook, Davrin/Rook (Dragon Age) Characters: Lucanis Dellamorte, Rook (Dragon Age), Viago de Riva, Andarateia Cantori, Spite (Dragon Age) Additional Tags: One Shot, Fluff, First Kiss, Making Out, Romance, Kissing, Viago de Riva and Rook are Siblings, Minor Andarateia Cantori/Viago de Riva, Spite Loves Rook (Dragon Age), Smitten Lucanis Dellamorte, Lucanis Dellamorte's Personal Quest Spoilers, First Talon Lucanis Dellamorte, Antivan Crow Rook (Dragon Age), Antivan Crows, Female Rook (Dragon Age), Elf Rook (Dragon Age), Mage Rook (Dragon Age), Named Rook (Dragon Age), Lucanis Dellamorte is Down Bad, Sweet Series: Part 5 of Veilguard - Collected Stories of Valkyr "Rook" de Riva Summary:

After the fight at Dellamorte estates, Lucanis and Rook have a moment alone to talk. And then to not talk.

Viago goes looking for Rook when she isn't at the celebration.

[awardenandacrow]

FANFIC SNIPPET 26

NOTE: This snippet is Lucanis’s POV and the sister snippet to Snippet 7

[after Weisshaupt, after the fight at the table, Lucanis is fully aware he… fucked up.]

CW/TW: strong language

——————————————————————————

Lucanis paced the pantry, furious with himself. He’d heard the hurt in her voice when she’d curtailed his argument with Davrin. Realized what he’d said, too late to take it back. He kept forgetting she was a Warden, too.

It was all he could think about now. Rook, the Grey Warden. Rook, the Grey Warden, who had been brought to Weisshaupt as a young teenager, and lived there ever since. Rook, the Grey Warden, who had fought her way through her home, as it crumbled down and was destroyed around them. As it was destroyed. As her family was cut down.

Rook, the Grey Warden, who had prevented the very same fate befalling him. Who had run to the defense of Treviso, when Minrathos was the clear *tactical* choice. Who had fought off a dragon to protect *his* city, *his* people, *his* family.

Only for him to fail to do the same for her. Only for him to imply…

Lucanis could not take it. His thoughts, Spite’s uncharacteristic silence — the demon sat in the corner, arms crossed, *glaring* at him — the guilt. With a frustrated growl, he kicked a sack of potatoes out of his way and stormed out of the pantry. He couldn’t just let that sit. He couldn’t bear the thought of her thinking he actually thought that about her. Or Davrin, really. But mostly her.

How would he feel if, after the dragon had gotten away, she’d asked him if Spite had held him back from fighting his best? Likely *worse* than he’d felt when Davrin had just done so, and that hadn’t been in the failed defense of *his* home.

Rook never made him feel like being an abomination made him lesser, made him broken, made him *wrong*, regardless of what he himself believed on the subject. And yet he had, without hesitation, attacked *who she was,* in the interest of his own defense. It wasn’t her fault Davrin had struck a nerve. It wasn’t her fault Davrin had smelled blood in the water, had spoken aloud what Lucanis himself wondered.

He didn’t deserve her forgiveness, of that he was certain. But he could not let this pass without offering her his repentance anyway.

Without thinking, he pushed her door open the moment he reached it.

“Rook, I wanted to talk to —“

SALT.

Salt…? “—oh.”

Not salt. *Tears.*

“Lucanis!” Rook spun, her eyes full of them, her face streaked with them. “I — I’m so sorry —“

She raised one arm to hide from him. Her room was a mess. The little wooden rocking griffon lay on its side on the table. The Joining Tapestry she’d purchased from that shady merchant lay crumpled on the floor. And she — his chest ached. She fisted her hand against her leg and gasped out, “I’m so — so- sorry I, I just —“

Why was *she* apologizing to *him*? He took a step forward, wanting nothing more than to sweep her into his arms, to hold her against his chest until her tears stopped. He hesitated. What right did he have to comfort her? Surely she’d prefer Davrin, who knew how she felt. Who had *done* his job.

“I’m the one who should be sorry,” he told her, the words feeling utterly insufficient. “This is… *my* fault. I missed.”

His heart wrenched more as she shook her head. “Lucanis, Ghilan’nain was a face in the clouds!”

Why did she do that? Why was she trying to make *him* feel better?

“I asked you to stab a fucking *cloud*!”

Why wasn’t she *angry* with him? His own bubbled up and he took a quick step forward, all but shouting at her, “and I *missed* the damn cloud!”

He was standing on the tapestry now, and he wanted to hit himself. Insult after insult. Her temper finally seemed to flare, and she no longer hid her flushed, tear streaked face from him. She glared at him with overflowing eyes, shouting back,

“My point is, I asked you to do something *impossible*!” She yelled, her chest heaving with emotion. “And you almost did it! That’s not small!”

“Don’t… don’t do that,” he begged her softly. If she were actually yelling *at* him, if she were angry with him, if she’d attacked him as Davrin had done, he could have handled any of it. But this… he didn’t know what to do with this. Her shuddering breaths filling any lapses in their exchange, the way she looked at him through her sobs like she was *happy* he was there, relieved, even. “You don’t have to go easy on me.”

“I’m *not*,” she insisted.

“I’m a professional,” he began, preparing to tell her all of the reasons she should hate him now.

“Yes,” she nodded, her voice cracking.

“I should have —“

But Rook cut him off, saying just above a whisper, “I’m just so glad you made it back all right.”

“Wha—?” Lucanis was *certain* he must have heard wrong. But then Rook pitched forward, her arms circling his waist as she buried her face in his chest.

“Rook,” he groaned internally, the guilt threatening to eat him alive. He should not be the one there to comfort her. He should not be the one she *looked to* for comfort.

She should not *need* his comfort. He should have done his job in the first place.

HUG. ROOK. BACK! Spite snarled in his ear. STUPID LUCANIS.

He realized he had not returned her embrace. Did he have a right to? Would she even want him to? Hesitantly, he started to, but at that moment, she spoke again, her voice muffled in his shirt.

“I’m really sorry. This is *not* professional. I just —“

She gasped then, pushing away from him and standing straight, eyes wide as they met his. Why was she… afraid?

“I’m… I’m *so* sorry,” she wiped her eyes roughly and began to look anywhere *but* at him. “You came in here because you needed something, and I — I’m sorry. Um. What did you need?”

YES, WHAT?

Lucanis debated lying. Saying it was nothing, and leaving. She sniffled, and any such thoughts were dismissed.

He should view his apology as a contract. A Crow did not abandon a contract. And he… he could not abandon Rook.

He reached out slowly, thought better of grabbing for her hand, and gently wrapped his fingers around her wrist. He fought the urge to stroke her skin with his thumb. She turned her head to look back towards him in surprise.

“I came to apologize,” he told her softly. “I was out of line at the table. I… should not have said what I said.”

Rook’s face screwed back up. “Oh,” she whispered. She turned her face away from him again and covered it with her other hand. Her shoulders shook, a telltale sign of renewed tears. He’d expected her to snatch her arm away. Or pull away. Or maybe even tell him to leave.

He couldn’t stand it. How inconsolable would he have been, if Treviso had met Weisshaupt’s fate? And she stood there, silencing her tears, worrying about *him,* apologizing to *him*, for having a well-deserved moment of weakness. He knew he should not.

Lucanis stepped forward, closing the space between them, pulling Rook back into his arms. The dam broke anew, and when her legs trembled he sank with her to the floor. He held her tightly, and she clung to him, shaking, a periodic sob breaking her resolve. He wanted to talk to her, to reassure her, to promise her he would not miss a second time, to tell her it would be all right. But he said none of those things, because he did not want to dismiss *this*, the feelings she was having *right now.* She did not need empty promises.

For some reason, somehow, *he* was all she needed. What a thrilling and terrifying revelation.

But he could be what she needed. He could hold her, and gently stroke her hair, and let her weep. It was the very least he could do.

He was not sure how long it had been, but the tears slowly came to a close. He breathed deeply, the scent of lavender filling his lungs. Spite could smell the Blight in her, but he certainly could not. Without thinking, he dropped a kiss onto the top of her head.

Panic, white hot, shot through him. Rook, however, did not budge. Spite crouched in his sight line and *grinned* at him.

SHE SLEEPS. LUCKY FOR YOU.

Lucanis allowed himself to breath, rubbing his face in irritation. He was better than this. How could he have been so… impulsive? Reckless? He could not allow that to happen again.

Carefully, he gathered Rook up off of the floor and laid her gently on the couch. Even in sleep, her brow was furrowed in worry, the corners of her mouth sharply downturned. He spotted her blanket on the floor under the couch, and pulled it out to cover her. She stirred slightly, but did not wake. Lucanis’s fingertips hesitated near her cheek.

GO AHEAD. PUSH YOUR LUCK. Spite cackled.

But he could not. With a last wistful gaze down at Rook, Lucanis turned to leave. His eyes fell on the trampled tapestry. Quietly, he picked it up. He’d send it to Teia, he decided. Either she or Viago would know someone who could clean it up for her. She may hate it now…

Lucanis shook his head to clear it, and left with all haste.

[drades-lair]

Secrets

Fandom: Dragon age veilguard

Rating: T

Pairing(s): Rook/Lucanis

Secrets. Everyone has secrets. Rook was no different despite what his team saw there was many things they didn't...the scars, the anguish, what lay under the surface in both the figurative sense and the literal. Sitting on the shay in the meditation chamber of the lighthouse he pulled the leather straps of a leg brace tight around the midthigh of his left leg. An injury years ago had threatened to rob Rook of his job with the crows luckily a few well-placed bribes had kept his little secret and his job intact. The brace made of high-quality leather, metal and runes kept his leg moving how it should by strapping just above his knee and below, and a personalized potion kept the pain under control. Keeping this secret had been easy thus far granted it’s not hard to keep a secret when you’re on your own 90 percent of the time however the moment you join a team things can become...complicated. Lucanis was proving to be a big part of that challenge…in more ways than one, not only was he in the same profession as Rook thus creating the potential of other crows finding out about him… there was also the fact, they’d started sharing a space more often promptly increasing the risk of him finding out about Rook's little secret. The development of these feelings unfortunately meant a mistake was...inevitable. A kiss…then another...touches...it was mostly a blur wrapped in the scent of coffee. Rook managed to keep enough sense to dodge away for just a moment to remove his brace out of sight. Enough practice allowed him to keep Lucanis from realizing anything was amiss...but it could only go so far.

… Morning brought a haze that clouded Rook's normally sharp mind, breathing in the sweet aroma of coffee he glanced over the back of the shay to see Lucanis standing near his wardrobe. A small smile crossed Lucanis' face as he met Rook's gaze, pushing off the wardrobe to begin slowly moving closer. Lucanis moved around the shay as Rook made his mistake, unthinking he stood up intending to meet Lucanis only to feel agony, features twisting as his leg refused to do what it should. "Rook!?" Lucanis exclaimed, swiftly placing his coffee cup on the side table moments before catching Rook mid fall. Rook gripped Lucanis' arms, breathing heavily as he tried to tamper down the pain while Lucanis held him with worry in his eyes. "I...my bag..." Rook managed to grit out with a shaky gesture to his pack across the room on the floor. "Alright," Lucanis confirmed, setting Rook on the shay before moving to grab up the leather pack. Lucanis watched worriedly yet patiently as Rook snatched the bag then dug through it till he pulled out a glass bottle with a brown liquid inside. Popping the cork Rook downed it, wiping his chin afterwards from a trickle that had dribbled down it. Slowly the pain subsided enough to clear Rook's mind, slamming him into the wall that was the reality of what happened. Rook spared Lucanis a single glance before averting his gaze to the floor, frown firmly situated on his features. "Rook?" Lucanis gently asked, slowly moving to sit beside the other man. "I'm sorry...I shouldn't have...I should have...told you..." Rook stumbled over his words, uncertain what or how to say what he needed too. "No need to apologize. What happened?" Lucanis assured his lover, making certain to keep his tone gentle.

"An old injury...the wounds healed but.... something inside...didn't..." Rook confessed still refusing to look at Lucanis. "You keep it hidden...why?" Lucanis wondered. "Because...if the crows found out...I'd be out of a job," Rook responded. "It's that bad?" Lucanis asked, a deep furrow of concern situating itself on his features. "I wear a special brace that I had hand crafted in Minrathous, magical runes assist in my walking and the potion helps with the pain," Rook explained. "Why continue if it causes you so much pain?" Lucanis inquired, confusion mingling with his concern.

"You're a crow...could you be without the job?" Rook retorted finally bring his gaze to Lucanis'. "Hmm...fair point. Why didn't you tell me?" Lucanis finally asked the question Rook had been dreading. "I was...afraid you'd tell the organization..." Rook trailed off, averting his gaze once again. "Mierda... Rook, I would never betray you like that," Lucanis sighed in exasperation, placing his hand over one of Rooks that had been resting on the shay between them. "I know, I know! I never said it was a good idea,” Rook responded, with an irritated growl.

Another heavy sigh left Lucanis’ lips as he gently moved his hand from Rook’s hand to caress down the other man’s closest thigh to the inner portion where he pulled lightly. Rook looked up at Lucanis with a slight confused furrow, yet he was already complying with the prompt presented.

“Here, lay down and rest your legs on mine,” Lucanis clarified as Rook followed the instruction despite still being a little confused at what Lucanis was up to.

Lucanis gently began to massage at Rook’s thigh just above his knee, kneading slowly down with increasing pressure causing a pained hiss to escape him. Watching Rook’s reactions carefully Lucanis kept his slow pace, feeling the scar tissue beneath Rook’s skin as the other man bared each painful touch with a wince.

“You can still move it…” Lucanis trailed off, the statement holding a whiff of a question under it.

“Yes…I just can’t bare weight on it...ugh!” Rook answered with a wince.

“Sorry…have you tried this before?” Lucanis asked referring to the massage he was currently administering.

“N-No…I had to be careful in seeing healers…in case the crows found out,” Rook continued to wince as he answered Lucanis’ question.

“Understood, is the pain easing at all?” Lucanis inquired with a slight concerned look.

“Mm…a little…” Rook admitted.

“Then perhaps I should do this on occasion and help you build up the muscles…it may not eliminate your problem completely, but it may ease some of the discomfort,” Lucanis stated, rubbing lightly over the length of Rook’s leg.

“Hmm, sure…worth a try,” Rook agreed with a small smile.

After a while Rook moved to sit up, gesturing to the wardrobe where he’d stashed his brace the night previous. Lucanis obliged in retrieving the brace from the wardrobe then watched with curiosity as Rook applied the brace to his leg followed by activating the runes on either side of his knee.

“It’s amazing that you can move around the way that you do, I know the brace helps...but still…” Lucanis commented upon watching Rook stand up as if nothing was wrong with him except a minor limp.

“A stubborn constitution helps,” Rook retorted with a smirk as he moved to grab a pair of cotton pants from the back of the shay.

“Too true,” Lucanis agreed with a chuckle.    

[writerfromshikahr]

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A Frustrating Service - Lucanis X Rook Fanfic

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"Can we sit?" Rook gestured to the large couch in the centre of her room, which doubled as her bed. She quickly rearranged the blankets, tidying them to make room for the two of them.

Lucanis nodded, following her to the couch. He perched at one end, his posture rigid, while she settled at the other.

The silence between them stretched thin until Rook finally spoke, her voice hesitant. "I’m not sure how to bring this up....."

“It’s about what happened in the pantry the other day, isn’t it?” he interrupted her, but his tone was calm but unreadable.

Rook glanced at him, her shoulders relaxing slightly in relief that he had brought it up first. "Yes," she admitted softly, holding his gaze.

Lucanis sighed, the sound heavy with something she couldn’t quite place. "It shouldn’t have happened," he said flatly. "I shouldn’t have let it happen."

Her heart sank. She felt the weight of his words like a blow. Here she was, believing they’d shared a connection—something meaningful—and once again, she had gotten it all wrong. "Oh," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. She forced herself to look away, adding more firmly, "Well, that clears things up. I guess you can leave."

Lucanis shifted uncomfortably, his jaw tightening as if trying to hold something back. "No, Rook, that’s not what I...ugh, fuck," he muttered, dragging a hand down his face. His frustration was palpable.

"No, it’s fine. All good." She waved a hand dismissively, though her voice wavered. "Honestly, I’m okay with this. It makes things easier, I think." Her eyes dropped to the floor, trying to mask the sting of rejection.

"Rook," he said, his voice low and full of warmth, the same tone that had always calmed her in the past. Right now, though, she wanted to slap it out of him.

"Lucanis," she met his gaze with sharp defiance. "I’m a grown woman. I can handle rejection."

"Can you let me speak?" he asked, his voice steady but tinged with irritation.

She nodded silently, her lips pressing into a thin line as she waited.

"What I meant to say… what I need to explain," Lucanis began, his hand gesturing between them as if trying to grasp the right words, "there’s something here, but right now, I can’t. I want to explore whatever this is..." He exhaled sharply, his shoulders tense. "My head’s a mess, Rook. My life, Spite, the last year of being imprisoned...it’s all a fucking disaster...I'm a disaster." He glanced away briefly, gathering his thoughts. "Whatever this is, it deserves care. It needs more than I can give right now. I don’t want to start something important when there’s so much unfinished."

Rook turned toward the window, her gaze following the fish darting and swirling beyond the glass. Her fingers tightened around the blanket before she spoke. "You’re asking for time," she said quietly, though there was no edge to her tone.

"If you’ll give it to me," he replied.

She hesitated, then let out a soft breath. A small, tentative smile curved her lips. "I think I can do that."

Relief washed over his face, softening his sharp features as he offered her a faint smile. "Thank you," he said, his voice thick with gratitude.

"I thought I had imagined it," she admitted. "I thought I got it all wrong."

"You didn’t," Lucanis replied firmly, his tone steady and reassuring. He paused, running a hand through his hair, his gaze thoughtful. "I'm not good at this kind of thing. I usually leave matters of the heart to Illario. I've never had a relationship; I don’t do those." His voice softened as his dark eyes met hers again. "But this...it matters. It’s important. I want to do it right. You deserve nothing less."

Rook’s smile grew, just enough to show she believed him. "For what it’s worth," she said after a beat, glancing at him with a glimmer of her usual humour, "it was the best almost-kiss I’ve had in a long time."

Lucanis huffed a soft laugh, shaking his head as a rare, fleeting smile crossed his face. "A frustrating service I'm skilled at providing."

The quiet returned between them, stretching but not uncomfortable. Lucanis leaned back slightly, his gaze dropping to the floor for a moment before flicking back to hers.

"I should go," he said softly, though there was no edge to the words, just the same careful restraint he always carried.

Rook nodded, though something in her chest tightened. "Right. You’ve got daggers to sharpen, people to dispatch."

"Always." His voice was light, but his eyes lingered on her for a second longer than usual. He stood, making his way to the door.

As his hand reached the doorknob, he paused.

"Rook," he said, his voice low but sure, "you didn’t get this wrong. I don’t want you to think that."

Her breath caught, and for a moment, she wasn’t sure what to say.

Lucanis offered the barest hint of a smile. "If I ever walk away, it won’t be because I don’t want to be here."

And with that, he left, the door closing quietly behind him.

She sat on the couch, her hands twisting the edge of the blanket as she replayed his words in her head. The ache in her chest remained, but it wasn’t sharp anymore. Instead, it felt softer...like the quiet promise he’d left behind.

[uhbambii]

The Lazy Morning

The chill of a late Winter morning seeped through the cracks of the grand Dellamorte villa, despite the thick stone walls and heavy drapes. Frost painted the windows, the delicate patterns a testament to the icy fingers of the season outside. But within Lucanis Dellamorte’s bedroom, warmth reigned.

Rook, wrapped in an absurd number of blankets was cocooned in the middle of the oversized bed. She had commandeered every available layer of warmth, from the soft linens to the embroidered quilts. Only her head poked out from the fortress of fabric, her hair a stark contrast against the dark, richly woven coverlets. Her sharp crow-like wit was nowhere to be found this morning; instead, her sleepy expression resembled a satisfied feline, reluctant to face the day.

Lucanis stood by the window, silhouetted against the weak light of the rising sun. His dark hair was tousled, as though he hadn’t bothered running a comb through it yet, and his sharp features were softened by an air of amused indulgence. His dark eyes flicked toward the bundle of blankets on the bed, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“You look ridiculous,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. His voice, low and smooth, carried the hint of laughter beneath its polished veneer. “I’m fairly certain this villa has never housed anyone as absurd as you.”

Rook’s only response was a faint grunt of protest. She burrowed deeper into the blankets, curling tighter like a contented bird in its nest. “Cold,” she muttered, her voice muffled. “This house is a mausoleum. I swear the Dellamorte ancestors haunt it just to drop the temperature.”

Lucanis huffed a quiet laugh. “I’ll have you know this mausoleum is the pinnacle of crow architecture. Generations of the Dellamorte family would take offense at your critique, cara mia.”

Rook peeked one pale eye out from the blankets. “The Crows didn’t invent insulation, apparently,” she quipped. “Or comfort.”

Shaking his head, Lucanis turned from the window and approached the bed. The morning light caught on the intricate embroidery of his house robe—a deep crimson velvet with black and gold trim, so perfectly tailored it was almost offensive. Even lounging in his own home, he carried himself with an effortless, lethal grace that marked him as both First Talon and assassin.

When he reached the bed, he gave a mock bow, leaning forward to press his forearms against the edge of the mattress. “If you find my family’s ancestral home so inhospitable, why don’t you simply get up?”

Rook glared at him, though her expression lacked its usual edge. “No.”

Lucanis’s smile widened. “No?”

“No,” she said again, her voice firmer this time. “This is my home now, too, and I’m declaring this bed the warmest spot in the villa. You can pry me out of here if you dare.”

He sighed, long-suffering, but there was no hiding the warmth in his expression. Lucanis leaned closer, his face hovering just above hers. “You’re lucky you’re adorable, uccellina,” he murmured, his voice low and intimate.

Rook tilted her head, her lips curving into a sly smile. “So lucky,” she replied, voice heavy with feigned exhaustion.

Without warning, Lucanis slipped a hand beneath the mound of blankets, his fingers cold as they brushed against her side. Rook let out a sharp yelp, her eyes snapping open fully. “Lucanis!” she squawked, swatting at his arm as she squirmed beneath her fortress.

His laughter was soft but unrestrained, a sound that carried rare warmth. “It’s good to know you’re not entirely immobilized, Uccellina,” he teased, using the nickname he’d given her early in their partnership.

“You’re awful,” she muttered, but there was no venom in her words, just a grudging affection.

Lucanis settled on the edge of the bed, his smirk softening into something gentler. He reached out to brush a strand of hair from her face, his fingers lingering against her cheek. Despite her protests, she leaned into his touch, relaxing.

“You know,” he said, his tone quieter now, “if you’re so determined to stay in bed, I suppose I could join you. For the sake of preserving your fragile constitution, of course.”

Rook’s gaze flicked up to meet his, her eyes glinting with amusement. “For my sake, huh?”

“Entirely selfless on my part,” Lucanis replied smoothly, though the tilt of his lips suggested otherwise.

She sighed theatrically but shifted to make space for him, her blankets rustling as she lifted a corner in invitation. “Fine. But you’d better not steal the covers.”

With an elegance that bordered on infuriating, Lucanis slipped beneath the layers, his warmth immediately seeping into the cocoon of fabric. He wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her against him as they settled together.

For a moment, silence reigned, broken only by the faint crackle of the fire in the hearth. Rook nestled closer, her breath warm against his chest.

“You know,” she murmured, her voice softer now, “I could get used to mornings like this.”

Lucanis pressed a kiss to her temple, his dark eyes closing as he held her close. “So could I, cara mia. So could I.”

———————————————————————————

Uccellina: Little bird/crow

Cara Mia: My beloved

_________________________________________________

[captastra]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Dragon Age: The Veilguard (Video Game) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Lucanis Dellamorte/Rook, Lucanis Dellamorte/Rook/Spite Characters: Lucanis Dellamorte, Rook (Dragon Age), Spite (Dragon Age) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Christmas Fluff, Implied Sexual Content Summary:

After spending a day with friends celebrating the holidays, Lucanis and Spite enjoy a relaxing evening with Nesiri.

~

A little something just in time for Christmas! Inspired by the HC that Lucanis would love Hallmark Christmas movies :D Biggest thanks to @lustaniasaxon and @truechaoticneutral for reading it over!!

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[jenn0wow]

I think their vibe is going to very romantic and cute dates like winter festivals and going picnicking and shit and they just stare at each other the whole time like 😊