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Chapter Text

Flashes of purple was all Rook saw for a second. It felt like the longest second he ever knew. And he had been in his own head with a god.

“Help us! He’ll listen! He always listens you!” He would have recognised the difference in the voice even blinded, and in a way was now. “Come!”

Rook considered yelping if not yelling, calling out for Viago and Teia in front of them, but were they even noticing? Was this actually happening?

His mind told him a thing, but the sudden cold at the back of his neck, and goosebumps, and Spite’s hand on his arm, told him otherwise. And purple it was again, before nothing.

✦

Rook breathed in, blinking, looking around sudden grey. He blinked a second time, but his eyes had not adjusted to it. The third time revealed to him there was nothing to adjust. This was the landscape.

“Lucanis?”

“Lucanis is here, always.” Rook turned to look at the voice and found the figure had been at his side already. A purple Lucanis. A real, tangible, the most tangible till now for Rook, Spite. Was he shorter even then Lucanis?

“Where?” Dreamlike he had not even stopped to wonder the why, or what he was doing. It was clearly not the point, and he had never been so inclined to philosophical analysis till now. That had come later, with gods and the end of the world. He would have wrote a book about it, once this was over, were he alive to tell, and if he knew how to write. Turns out, a few years at the side of a renowned writer didn’t pass the skill by osmosis.

“Behind locked doors. I can’t break through.”

Rook nodded, looking around. Again, all grey. Grey, and stones. Some were floating. He felt that shiver on his neck again, where logically his curls were warming it. But Rook did not feel warm. He wasn’t sure it was familiarity, or danger, or both. It told something about him, if anything. He had dreamed since the lighthouse enough times to recognise a landscape that was the fade but not quite. He almost expected Solas to appear at the next turn. He was happier to see Spite still there, instead.

“How do I do it?” He asked at last, even if the time felt like none had passed at all, the stretch almost felt on his arms, moving the little body hair he had. “Go through?” Reach Lucanis. That went unsaid. That was what they were here for, was it?

“It’s a prison!” Spite announced in his loud voice. At first Rook had thought it a mockery, parody, of Lucanis’. Now he wasn’t sure. What other way had Spite to talk, if not through his host, for how unwilling? “Through the guards!”

“…right.” Rook looked around a little more. Nothing more revealed itself but more depressing grey. He wondered if that was how Solas felt locked up in there spare the few times Rook half-visited. This felt desolating. Lonely. And full of time to mope. Lucanis, what are you doing here? “No way out but foward then.”

“Yes! Go!”

And go Rook did.

✦

Rook had never considered himself particularly fearful, but this was eery. The light came from nowhere, and the air felt filtered. Scarce. Strange lines made the light waver like it was…water. Like it was water.

“This is the Ossuary.”

There was no point in just thinking it. Spite was more of help than his own magic here.

“Yes! He doesn’t! Leave!”

Rook took another moment to look around, but moved startled a second after.

useless, all of this, utterly useless.

He had…heard this voice. Had he? But…

Had it come from the same nowhere as the light? Again…dream, don’t ask questions Tyeln, move forward. No use in becoming a philosopher now. He moved to touch his side but found nothing but cloth. Looking down, his daggers were gone. Looking around, there was nobody who could have spoken, not with that voice anyway.

“You are free, Spite.”

There didn’t seem nowhere to go, the room they were in, he wasn’t sure it had changed or he had just not looked carefully enough, was not different than the first, and nobody was in it.

“Free? No, we’ve always been here.”

Rook blinked, but didn’t proceed that way. There was no reason in insisting with a demon. Or irritating him. Spite and Lucanis were more alike than both would admit.

“This room is empty.” He felt a little silly for pointing it out out loud. But at least this caused a sound in the room that wasn’t his step or his breathing. Spite didn’t seem to make both when he didn’t want to. “Is anybody there?” He called out to the room, giving one last look. No lock in sight, how was he supposed to proceed? He had really hoped the locks to be tangible, hittable things he could smash with a blast. Why wasn’t it always as easy as killing venatori?

“Of course it is.” Spite matter of dactyl delivered once more. “Rook can’t be here.”

“But-“ Rook turned to look the purple hue at his side once more. He really was everything Lucanis was. He had to turn to the room again before counting every hair. “Why?”

“You open doors. You don’t close them.”

Even if it kills you

Rook jumped again. That was familiar. What was Illario doing here? That must have come from the next room. Had illario been sucked in this dreamscape too? He hoped not. This was complicated enough. Whatever this was.

“Foward! Foward!” Called Spite, and Rook wondered once again if Spite had known that word already or he just really enjoyed it when Rook spoke it.

“Yes, I’m going.”

The door was easy to open, and a corridor followed, in the same watery light, but with no sound of waves. Had there been sound of water in the Ossuary? He couldn’t remember. Surely Lucanis did, but he couldn’t be sure this was an accurate representation. For once, the Ossuary had not been in the fade, and Illario had not been there either.

Rook would have almost preferred if Spite made some noises, so at least he wouldn’t get startled if any other sound happened. It was rattling now, and Rook had thought he imagined it. The sound of a walking stick, as if next to him, mismatched with his steps. And at his every step a…whimper?

Please. I did not mean to.

Was the child…crying? He would not have heard it for how fickle the voice was.

Meaning to and mistakes go hand in hand. You don’t mean, you do.

Caterina.

The sound of the cane was so sharp Rook felt it in his teeth, making the water tremble, for a mad second thinking the water would fall on him and they would drown in there. This would have made him insane for a year alone. Or maybe the thought had been comforting, after a while. Venatori knew how to do many things but not breath under water.

Spite was quiet at his side, but fidgeting, his hands never still. Should he take them in his? It reminded him of Lucanis so painfully he wanted to hug him. But they didn’t do that. Lucanis had made it awfully clear.

The child had stopped crying, and no amount of waiting brought the scene’s voice back again. Memory? Rook had not liked her at first, and thought himself prejudiced, and then she had been dead, and in a full tevinter fashion he had decided not to badmouth the dead, but she felt very alive here, the air still prickling after the hit, because that was what had been.

Rook could not banish the unkind parallel that came to his mind, of a former master, the same he thought the first time he had seen Caterina. Lucanis would not have appreciated Rook comparing his grandmother to his own magister slash master. Too bad, Lucanis, because that’s true, from the old lady look to the mean face, to the lashes. No amount of love could justify that for him, not after twentyfive years as a slave and the other five running from it. Love didn’t come with a cane in hand.

Rook sighed loudly, the air from his lungs causing no echo. He massaged his face and proceeded.

✦

He felt like he had walked miles by the time he got to where he was meant. It was clear by the fact the room had no escape but the door to the other side, and the figure he just insulted in the front. Truth be told, the sides were falling and he could have jumped there. What would have happened? If it were a dream, he would have woken up, maybe. Or reappeared just again, to Spite chiding him.

I get one of you back, only to lose the other.

By now Rook had stopped jumping at them, and wondered if they came directly to his brain. Spite didn’t seem to react to them more than he did to everything. Which meant unpleasantly. He wouldn’t have done much differently, all things considered. At least in this form he could do what he wanted, even if still confined in this maze.

Rook gritted his teeth and with another big breath moved to what was clear now was the first lock. Or the first clear one. Tests were tyring, mental tests more. Maybe she would reveal herself as a demon and he could elettrify her. The thought comforted him a little.

“Rook, did you forget our deal?” Caterina said, as soon as he came face to face to her. The wave of disgust that came over Rook that first time came back all together, mixed with the child’s stifled whimpers and a fade induced motion sickness. “You were to bring my grandson back to me.”

“I did.”

“You brought me an abomination.” Spite was restless next to him. It was surprising he had not jumped the old woman already. “Where is my grandson?”

Rook hated that he could imagine those words from Lucanis’ mouth too. And his true grandmother, as likely. Rook tried not to be grateful she had been dead, for a little at least, that would have been mean. But again, nobody asked him to be kind, they asked him to slay gods. If this meant punching an old woman to get to Lucanis, he would. But he had the impression this fight could not be won without an amount of kindness that went well beyond what he wanted to give to anybody but his friends…and Lucanis.

“Tenderness and terror.” Rook turned to Spite’s words immediatly. It was the closest thing to the assassin he knew voice. “Rage and relief. Old, stale fear of disappointment.”

“This is not the real Caterina.” Rook said, more for his own benefit. “Could this be a…spirit? Taking her form? From Lucanis’ memories?” It could explain the locks, but spirits weren’t that mean from his late experience. Not quite…

“They wouldn’t! Dare!” Spite stopped him immediatly. “Thoughts live here! Ideas! Feelings!”

“She’s his idea of Caterina.”

“YES. ROOK UNDERSTANDS.”

Rook smiled at himself, and Spite mirrored him. It wasn’t quite Lucanis’ little smile, the way his eyes smiled more than his lips, but not even Spite’s grimace or grin. He truly was trying to imitate Rook. He knew he was not supposed to feel the affection he felt. Well, at least someone was thankful in here.

Rook turned to Caterina, before he got more ideas.

“Your nephew is trapped. You are…” he gritted his teeth a little. “part of his way out. That you deserve it or not. Lucanis may have changed, but he’s still your nephew, he’s still…”

“He’s not changed! He’s possessed by a demon!”

So much for reasoning. Talking with Spite had been easier.

“Maybe, but whatever happened, he’s your heir. You wouldn’t reject him, would you?”

The Caterina in front of him was silent for one blessed moment. “What is the alternative anyway? He thinks he failed you. Free him. Do a good thing for once.”

The mean expression in front of him relaxed in front of him, the angry wrinkles leaving space for a more…thoughtful expression.

“My boy-“ the voice veered on softness, and as Rook opened his mouth, she was gone.

“Well, that was anticlimactic,” Rook mumbled to himself, as bright red shined in place of the former First Talon. Finally, something to smash. Raising his leg he gave a solid kick at the crystal, and it broke in a thousand little pieces, which flew and fell down alike, and in a second they were as gone as the old woman. He put down his leg, before anybody could see him, and criticise his form. He knew Taash would have.

He pushed the new door, now free from any lock, and Spite jogged at his back freely.

“Spite?” He called after a moment.

“YES.” He always seemed delighted to be mentioned or called.

“Do you…have you been her already?”

“Here?” The purple demon tilted his head to the side, in a way that reminded Rook of a puppy before he scoffed to himself. “We never! Left!”

“Right…right…”

If possible, he was more confused. And again…foward.

✦

The next room, was no wonder, the same as the one before, if for minor changes. He had found some bits and pieces of writing along the way, but he was sure they would disappear once back if he pocketed them, and even here they were useless to him. Everything looked like scribbles to him, and he had managed to start to discern tevinee, and some traders’ language, but this must have been antivan.

Promoted from flying vermin to malicious spirit. Whatever will you become next, I wonder?

The tevinter’s tilt of the voice could have been his, if he had been a woman and that fond of bloodmagic.

“Oh, fuck off,”

Spite seemed to nod sharing the feeling.

Rook’s faked bravado died quickly on his mouth once he saw the red head of hair that was waiting them.

“…Harding?”

“Don’t worry Rook, I got my eyes on the prisoner.”

”Rain and dirt. Old stones and family recipes.”

Rook hesitated, checking Lace’s face in front of him for anything…wrong. She stared right back, in a way that was so characteristic for the scout that it pained him. But he couldn’t tear his gaze away.

“This friendly face won’t stop me Lucanis. I know this is not real, and I know Harding having an arrow for you doesn’t mean she’d use it.” He paused, his nails tight on his palm. When had he started pushing them in? “I wouldn’t let her.”

“Rook,” even now she called him, the tone, was to the point. “Are you sure Spite is not tricking you? What if there is no Lucanis — just the demon?”

Then I fell in love with a demon. But it was better not to think such things in the fade. Something was always listening.

“Lucanis.” He insisted. What else was he supposed to do? “After a year in the ossuary everybody would…I understand why you believe that, but you are not, you are not a demon.”

Spite made a noise Rook couldn’t quite pinpoint, but then quited and looked at him, as if Rook had been talking to him. In a way he had.

“Look around,” Harding continued, moving her hand as if to prove a point, “this isn’t the mind of a human being, let alone an antivan crow.”

“Ever the ferelden. What do you think Lace knows of crows but fairytales and Bellara’s stories Lucanis? This is the mind of my friend. It’s still you, even if buried so down in guilt and self hatred. Lucanis, no demon would punish himself like this.”

“You really shouldn’t trust anything you find in the fade.”

“Then I wouldn’t trust the Lighthouse. Our house. Where I made all that friends. Let me help, for once.”

Harding gave him a incisive look, and Rook wondered if Lucanis had ever been spying on his conversations with the scout.

“You know that’s the kind of attitude that will get you killed right?”

Well, that answered it.

“See, that’s where you are wrong. I already had this conversation with Harding once, and Varric, for the matter. And I’d risk it anyway, you and Harding both know it. If you want to deter me you’ll have to do better.”

Harding’s face softened, and Rook tried to not smile back like he’d always do.

“Just...be careful.”

And she was gone too.

✦

How long are you going to keep doing this?

If he had not known Illario’s voice he’d think it was his own brain starting to give out for the amount of head aching grey he was seeing. And then they said colors were the ones too bright.

I was supposed to have a useful demon, and instead I have a useful abomination. Wonderful

Were they growing in frequency? Did it mean he was getting closer? And closer to what?

…No fucking way.

“Ehy Rook,” Neve smiled at him, in that familiar not quite smile. It almost seemed like she was making fun of him or like she was in some joke while he didn’t understand it. It was a feeling which had died early on after they started to in fact live together, not just passing acquaintances. But of late it had changed to a doubt of what she truly thought of him. After Minrathus and…he had just wanted to help everybody. And he had wanted her as a friend. The shadows left alive should collaborate, should they not? “Should you be here? Can’t say it’s the safest place in the world.”

Spite chimed in, Rook having almost forgotten him. A venture he had thought impossible less than an…hour ago? How long had he been in here?

“Stomach churning in excitement. A little dread. Strangeness and charm. Something familiar and foreign at the same time. With a little guilt.”

Rook and to give it to Lucanis, he sure knew how to be poetic. Because they were Lucanis’ words, not Spite’s. Spite’s phrases were never that long, nor thoughtful. Not that he knew of anyway. And how was tevinter familiar to Lucanis in all this? Killing mages? And here Rook thought they had become…

“Yes! I get that,”

Spite turned to look at him immediatly and Rook breathed in strongly, his eyes closed, pinching the bridge of his nose. This was no time for…feelings that went straight to the stomach, jealousy, whatever this was, to blind him. He was here to help.

“Somehow I had thought he wouldn’t summon up a tevinter for a guard. Not as more than an echo anyway.”

He had recognised the voices after a while. His original target, Calivan, the guards, and Zara. All tevinter. All jailers. And here he and Neve were. So much for familiar. Lucanis seemed to attract tevinters from every corner. Rook suddenly felt quite bad with himself .

“Tevinter?” Spite did that head tilt again, “People come in three kinds. Family. Enemies. Contracts.”

And where do I fall in that Lucanis?

“Brilliant… …Neve. Let me through. Us.”

“You know how he is Rook. Even if you open the door, Lucanis won’t walk through it. He is where he wants to be.”

Why she always had to be reasonable and smart?

“He has a choice, always will. Even if I have to fight my way inside this damn prison to give him one and he won’t take it. And if he can’t see that after…, I’ll show him. That’s why I’m here.”

“You really think you can help him?”

Rook almost stopped to think of it. Like it were an actual question.

“Yes.”

Honesty always worked best with Neve, he had almost forgotten she wasn’t really her for a minute. He truly was getting deeper inside Lucanis’ head. And if Caterina was the guard dog, and Harding the good guard, what was Neve?

“You don’t want to see what comes next, Rook.”

“I do. I’d do anything to get him out.”

“You’re such a sap, Rook.”

“You knew that already, the real Neve does.” He gave her another look. She was missing her hat, that was what it was off. And the clothes were too sober. He almost laughed at his own silliness. “And she would admit it when she’s longer needed. It’s time you step aside.”

But she was already gone.

✦

What are you hiding, little demon

Spite snarled. So he could hear them.

The atmosphere had started to grow gloomier, the color of the water darker, of the lights sharper.

If I was in charge, you wouldn’t have to do this anymore. Rook turned despite himself, looking around as if Illairo would appear out of nowhere, was he really going to haunt this whole trip without showing himself? That didn’t seem to match with the man he knew. The man that hit on him as soon as he realized what was going on between him and his cousin. What he had thought was going on anyway… You could quit.

I don’t want to quit.

Lucanis? This was new. But it wasn’t him. Not quite. As if a flash he imagined a Lucanis without bear, with shorter hair. Was it his own imagination or his mind melting with the fade? Was it even possible?

“Spite?” The demon perched to his side immediatly, eyes sparkling purple and eager. Rook was regretting what he was going to ask. “Do you see Lucanis’ memories?”

“Some. He closes. Doesn’t want to show.”

“Understandable…”

“His cousin. Slaves freed. He didn’t agree.”

And immediately, loudly, as if reacting to Spite. That cavalier attitude’s going to get you killed. Illario again.

“That was what the conversation was about?”

“No. But yes. He confuses me.”

“…likewise.”

Envy is the rarest of all demons. And most challenging to cultivate. The conditions must be perfect.

What the hell had envy to do with this now? He turned to give another look to Spite but the demon shrugged. Rook snorted. He wasn’t sure if Lucanis’ manners had rubbed on Spite or the other way around.

✦

Reaching the next room was harder, they climbed a bit, and then down, and another room presented itself, like a broken study, with a desk and libraries on the walls. Rook imagined something interesting on Lucanis could be understood by the titles there.

“Rook,” it came almost like a cooing, a smooth voice calling him in, siren like.

“Illario.”

The Illairo in front of him smiled charmingly. “You are too good to be wasting time in a place like this.”

Neve and Harding had been easy to discern in a way. He knew them, liked to think better than Lucanis, or differently, longer anyway. But Illairo was a whole other matter. He had met him, the real version, from a certain vicinance too, and the tone was familiar, but still, this was the same man who Lucanis had grown up with. His best friend, his brother at heart. But then why…

“Forget about my cousin,” Rook has to remember to breath to not snap at the man. He couldn’t look at him without thinking of Lucanis. “You got much more important things to worry about, don’t you? You’ve got the weight of the world on your shoulder.“

“Sharp. Jagged edges.” He had come to expect it from Spite by this point. It was comforting, in its surety the comments would come. “Hurt with every breath. Brief and relief. Hope and anger. Mixed.”

“Lucanis-“

“Shouldn’t you get yourself someone to soothe you? That would be at your side? Comfort you rather than make it worse?”

“I should. But that’s not what I want.”

“Why choose pain? You could have anybody you want.”

Trust Lucanis to choose his charming cousin to try to bed him even in the fade.

“Lucanis. Listen to me through this thick brain of yours. What Illairo did is his fault. Not yours. You love him like a brother, your told me so, you wouldn’t have done…this. It wasn’t you, it’s him that should feel that grief, not you.”

Rook paused a moment, as the silence fell. He felt like he was talking to a wall, and that only Spite truly listened.

“You know Caterina had five children?” Illairo chided once more. As nothing of what he just said mattered. “Eight grandchildren. All dead now, expect Lucanis. And me.” Rook wasn’t sure he wanted to hear the rest. “Last time the crows fought a war of succession, house Dellamorte lost everything. Expect the seat of First Talon.”

“Is that the only thing important to you Illario?”

“It should. I’m thinking about the family. The best for us. If we fight ourselves this time, what will be left then? You think you’ll survive? Your friends? Your beloved Lucanis?”

“He. Put. Us. Here.”

Rook got snapped back to the present and turned to Spite.

“Wait, Illario?” He wanted to know more, but that was never the way with Spite, and turns out even with Lucanis’ mind.

“You’ve got to leave this be Rook,” Illario continued, insistence growing. “You turn my cousin loose, it’s only going to cause more grief. You have much better options out there than an abomination.”

“Don’t let him speak for you, for fucks’ sake! It’s him, not you!”

“Do you really think it? That he made a deal with a demon. He’s not even a mage.”

“Neither are you, I am! So let me be the judge of that.”

“The cousin I knew would have died before relenting to a demon’s demands.”

Rook sighed, the back of his eyes starting to pulse like when he used too much magic. Was he supposed to stay inside here for so long? Was he somehow damaging Lucanis’ mind? Putting his mark on it? No better than Zara did. From one tevinter mage to another.

“He’ll carry this prison with him forever Rook, and he’ll fill it with corpses given time. Yours, if you don’t walk away now.”

“WE! NEED! OUT!”

“Spite…” Rook fists were starting to hurt too. At least it distracted him from the burning eyes. “This is enough. Lucanis, you can’t see the future, you can’t read it. Even seers can’t. Even gods. But that doesn’t mean it’s a reason to hide in a place that is hurting you. Especially now, when you are needed. I need you.” Please.

“You always have an answer don’t you?” Illario’s voice felt like it made its way behind his eyes in serpentine moves, “Are you sure you can live with the consequences?”

“Yes. Do you?”

Illario gave him one final smile, sardonic, and Rook almost expect a bow, but Illario faded away with the stale air.

✦

And you are raised into the heavens to join the gods. Perfect and exalted. A murder of crows at your feet.

“It’s not your fault Lucanis, you were a kid.”

Was that what Lucanis had feared? That Zara would give him to Ghilan’nain? A perfect assassin? Not himself, killing every crow, just like war had.

Rook felt like he needed to sit. His eyes at gotten used to the landscape by now, but his head ached and he was slightly nauseous. If he closed his eyes just a second…

“We! Are close!”

Rook looked up to Spite, and raised a brow, which didn’t help the headache. He had not realized he had sat down, and Spite was in front of him.

“Really?”

“I don’t! Lie!”

“True, sorry.”

“You are! Special!”

“Am I now?” Rook massaged his forehead, his neck lolling down for a second, trying to convince himself to get up. He had not remembered being this tired either. He half questioned if this was the effect of being further in Lucanis’ mind, or just his own sensitivities.

“Nobody! Apologises to! Spite!”

“Oh, well…” Rook looked up at the demon, who had by any means been waiting for him patiently. “You have been nothing but helpful.”

Spite grinned more happily than Rook ever saw him.

“People! Don’t like demons! Helping!”

“To be fair, they don’t like spirits that much either. They can be awfully prejudiced.”

“You! are not!”

“Oh, I am. It’s just…it’s easy to make friends with spirits, or incorporeal…stuff. Most just want you to be kind.”

Cousin, stop you can’t dwell on this. It’ll drive you mad

“Too late for that now,” he mumbled to himself, but got himself up all the same, if only to prove this unreal Illario a point.

Walking again, his every step sparkling like electricity to the back of his head, he wondered if that’s what Neve, the spirt Neve, Lucanis’ Neve, warned him about that he wouldn’t like. But he didn’t have more time to wonder, when he saw what was next. Or better, who.

“NO!” Spite roared making Rook flinch. “No! This is wrong! He’s not here!” Spite started to get more and more agitated. “He changed the rules! Not! A game! COWARD!”

“Spite-“

“HE’S NOT! YOU ARE NOT! HERE!”

Spite’s yelling had drowned all the rest, and only blinking again made it real.

It was not a mirror, and Spite proved he was not allucinating. This was himself, in front of…himself.

Every bit was done almost to perfection, from the pointy ends of the ears, to the bouncing of curls with any slight movement, the way they started to reach the shoulders unchecked, how they framed his face, the way his nose crooked ever so slightly on a side, just a small slope to be touched, the way the chin softened and the cheekbones had been hiding under good food. The dark skin looking almost ashy in this light, the freckles making him look more sickly than lively. Looking down at his own hands, it was the same shade. But no, not quite. He, this him, oh saints…

“This is how you see me?”

“I DONT!” Provided Spite quickly.

He had surely seen better days, himself, this…spirit thing…this was going to be complicated. The him in front of himself was bruised, his face calm where it was supposed to be pained. Rook could recall from the top of his head a series of situations where it had been so. He also remembered those injures, broken ribs, ripped muscles, the pain, how he could hardly stand, much less look all smug.

And it could have been different times but…he could feel it, Lucanis holding his hands. Sitting by his side. All night. Did he really not think he had helped? Had he considered this too his fault?

“He cheats!” From spite again, his own reflection had not spoken yet. Rook was almost glad. He wasn’t ready for it. “New walls! More locks! Wasn’t here before! Isn’t supposed! To!”

“Hi Tyeln.”

That could not have come too late. Like hearing yourself through a glass, speaking back at you. That’s not how he heard his own voice, and now he was overthinking how he sounded, talking back, rather than actually speaking, staring dumbly at his own bloodied face. That one bruise on the cheekbone had taken months to heal properly, for lack of precise healers. And he had refused even them.

“…hi.”

“Chocolate and spices. Warmth and regret.” Spite sniffed in loudly, making Rook still as if he was smelling him personally. “Dangerous.”

“So much for friendship Lucanis…”

But Spite was not done. “Headaches and smiles. A long way to fall.”

Rook was efficiently quieted once again.

“You’ve come all this way for nothing, you know?”

“I didn’t,” but it came out weak. Spite started fidgeting again at his left.

“There is nothing more after this, just me, and more pain,”

“I don’t…believe you,”

He had to close his eyes a second, to not see himself. Even the way his lips curled when disappointed were right. Neve had made him notice it. He had not thought Lucanis had noticed…he never looked Lucanis like this…had he? He had not meant-

“But you do. You know it. Continue, and your head will hurt more. Remember the ritual? The magic? It will be worse.”

“I didn’t tell you this just to be used against me, it was to share-“

“He will make it worse. You are already suffering. Why do you keep looking for pain?”

Rook pushed his eyes shut, feeling them watering in a way he refused.

“STOP! HURT!” Spite had moved quickly, and had Rook not turned to give him a small look he did not doubt he would have put himself between them. When had he started thinking of the demon as an he?

“Why come all this way from Tevinter just to be masochist in another place?”

Rook’s throat closed up.

“Do you…think me this foul, Lucanis?”

“You won’t find Lucanis here.” The way he spoke the name back felt odd, did he pronounce it that way? He got why the antivan smiled at him sometimes for it. But that had been fond…

“I’d walk days in the fade to search for him. And if you were me, you’d know.”

His eyes were teary, but it was now or never, and he couldn’t give up now. And he really didn’t want to cry in front of himself of all people.

“You don’t really love him.”

A slap would have hurt less.

“WHAT DO YOU KNOW OF IT?”

His self gave him a curious look with surprising bright eyes, and Spite fidgeting had moved to slipping from one foot to the other. He had not meant to yell. He was so tired.

“You deserve better.”

“Let me decide it.”

“I’m you.”

“You are not. You are in pain. And I never take decisions well when in pain. You know that well Lucanis.”

Rook tried to not think of warmth, of something he was not supposed to look foward, of hands entwining and warm cups, to something he thought Lucanis had enjoyed too.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“Oh, you warned me plenty. Now, if you don’t mind, shush off.”

His own self smiled back at him, and bowed his head. “Don’t loose Spite from sight. At least he’s truthful about his intentions.”

“What-“ but if he had learned anything from Lucanis it was that even his mind’s guards did scenic exits.

✦

Rook was starting to grow tired of sighing too. Voices were starting to fall off his ears without even registering, We are not revolutionaries , Illario again. But he also felt more acutely aware of where he was now than in the last…three guards. That felt like a good measure of time given the situation.

Even without nobody telling him so, or friendly easily understandable signs, Rook felt he was coming to the end of this. There couldn’t really be anything worse than himself at the end of this line. And Spite had gone quiet again.

One day, someone will turn your work against you. Only then will you have some semblance of the emptiness you’ve made me feel.

He detected the tevinter accent of this voice, of a man, but that was about it. From the entailment, likely a magister, from the threat likely one of many Lucanis’ targets. Magister had a love for prophecies, as much as their magic, and slaves. He did hope these were last words.

There were questions he wanted to ask Spite, but it felt too late now, and even if he could…no, it wouldn’t be right. He had intruded in this mind long enough.

And finally, the space opened. The dark water lighted, and Rook felt like he could breathe. The space was wider, but not less of a cage.

Rook’s heart felt lighter the moment he saw familiar brown eyes looking up at him, his hair falling to the sides like they had the first time Rook had freed him from the same prison. But not as rugged and beated down, nor as skinny. Spite’s energy in him had done a marvellous job at keeping Lucanis’ body up and running and generally healthy, but that was about it. It was lucky Lucanis liked to cook that much, both for the team as much for himself.

“Maker, finally, if this is not really you I swear-“

“Rook? What are you doing here?”

Well, if this wasn’t Lucanis at heart.

“Searching for you.”

“But, I have not moved, there is nowhere to go…I…Rook,” he finally looked up truly, not his quite-not quite looking in the eyes. But he was now, Rook could feel it. He never wanted to look away, and it had nothing to do with the not looking away from the fire burning-can’t tear your eyes from the shipwreck of the previous rooms. “You should go. It’s better I stay here than risk you losing you.”

“You see?!” Lucanis tensed as soon as he heard Spite’s voice, who had stayed steadfast at Rook’s side. “He breaks. Our agreement. His mind. Is still here. He wants. To stay here. So he keeps. Me here!”

“Mierda!” Now that he both heard them in the same room Rook realized he had considered Spite’s voice a little more similar to Lucanis’ than it actually was. Or had started to along the way. But it had been the closest thing to it and…it had helped, in a way. “Why would I want to stay? Even in my head, this place is a nightmare!”

Rook hesitated. The tiredness was starting to catch him again. “It is, but…all this, it’s familiar. You were here for a year. It’s a nightmare you already defeated.” Rook was scared all this wouldn’t make sense when said out loud, that he was losing his only chance at saving Lucanis by babbling a series of stupid words. “I…should have seen it. As bad as the ossuary was…it’s better than what we brought you out to, the world ending, Treviso, your family…it was better than the alternative.” That had been what this whole hell trip had been about. By the Maker, what a ridiculous pair they made.

Lucanis blinked at him, eyes still big, “what alternative?”

“Learning to live with it.”

“It?”

“Being an abomination.” He could see Lucanis’ tensing, as if he wasn’t always so, but Rook tried to move forward, he couldn’t stop now because Lucanis looked upset, even if he wanted to, “Not solving your every problem with killing. That you need to heal, and that there is a risk of failing, and that if you fail, you’ll hurt the ones you love.”

“No! I…it’s not-“ Lucanis shouted, angrier than he ever heard him, in a way that reminded Rook more of Spite’s growls than Lucanis’ soft spoken voice. “Damn it, Rook!”

“Make.him.leave!”

Rook took a big breath, which was starting to feel more and more like he was smelling no air at all.

“Spite. I can’t make him leave.” He had not realized his tone toward Spite had become gentle either. “I want to, but this is not a real place, not physically anyway. It’s real in his head, it’s a feeling.”

“Stupid feelings.” Spite mumbled, and Rook smiled. Lucanis gave him a confused look.

“He left the prison already, you both did, but Lucanis brought a piece of it with him. Wherever he is.”

Lucanis sighed. “…you are right. …you always are. But I. I can’t see how to begin.”

Once again this day Rook wished to just take Lucanis’ hands in his. Or hug, would that have helped? A part of him wanted to take Bellara’s advice for it. He really felt like receiving an hug right now.

“Start small.” Rook said, with a gentleness that surprised even himself. “Like your exercises. You were not always a master.”

“This is no crow training.”

“No, it’s not.” Rook was relieved Lucanis did seem to see more reason than all the puppet guards he had created. Or maybe he was as tired as him. “But we’ve seen you work well with things that are familiar, even the ones that hurt. So start like it, with you, and Spite.” He turned to give a look to the purple light too. Maybe that had been it, Spite had been the only color in their seemingly infinite walk. “Find a common ground, I know there are, more than you see, so find it, and make it happen.”

“A contract?”

Rook smiled once again at the eagerness. He could never imagine Lucanis being quite like that, not today anyway, so he could see why Lucanis was always flinching and winching during missions or a simple dinner.

“Contracts are for clients.” Rook gave him a side look. Lucanis’ mouth twitched up and bowed his head slightly. “Call this…an alliance.” He paused once more and Rook thought he’d tackle Lucanis down if they would not get a damn accord out of this. “But on what terms?”

Rook stopped a moment, blinking. He had not expected Lucanis asking him. Maybe he should have after all this.

“Your grandmother is alive. If what you said with Viago and Teia is true. You can rescue her. The rest comes later.”

Lucanis looked at him in the eyes again, for a long moment. Rook didn’t feel like covering, or cowering. It was a new feeling. He liked it.

Then Lucanis looked away.

“Thank you Rook.”

They looked each other awkwardly for way too long.

“That’s what friends are for.”

“yes…friends.”

Again, that awkwardness. Rook had thought they gotten over it too. He wanted to think it was because of the delirium that just occurred.

Lucanis walked closer, and finally gave a look to Spite, a look that wasn’t overly mean. Maybe even normal. A look which would mean hope. Rook stared at them in silence, even as the two said nothing.

And as the two figures joined in a storm of purple, and Lucanis-Spite turned to him, Rook felt a touch to his hand, like feathers, and they were back.

Chapter Text

The light from the eluvian was blinding but so quick you didn't have quite the time to realize you were in fact moving, or at least it was so for Lucanis. Emmrich had compared it to a slow bath, and Lucanis wasn’t sure what kind of baths they had at the citadel but had not questioned it. The walk back was quiet, ethereally so, no enemies along the way, no sight of the sparse venatori and antaam that lurked their way into the crossroads, but for a mechanical guard, as Rook was fond of calling them. Guard that said elf headshotted a second after it appeared, in a spectacle of violet lights. The electricity still shimmered on the deactivated body on the ground and near weeds, and in the back of his eyes. Lucanis half expected a comment from Spite, but the demon was…quiet. He wasn’t sure if he liked it.

The silence was filled by Rook’s chatter, but it wasn’t to him, rather around. Rook commented on the weather of the crossroads, as if it ever changed, the elven structures and next moved his attention to the Caretaker. As many things since he had been freed from the ossuary he didn’t know what to think of it, but Rook was ever delighted by this spirit, as ever patient was the spirit in answering Rook’s every question and curiosity — in what Lucanis feared would be endless conversations on exactly what would happen if Rook threw himself in the void where the fade had not made road. Lucanis hoped Rook would not test it. But not once Rook turned to him, aside quick glances back which could have either been to check if he was following or if Spite had taken control of him at last. 

Had it been finally it? Rook had been even too patient with him, this must have been the final line. The things he had seen in his…mind. He wouldn’t fault Rook to never direct his kindnesses towards him again. He didn't doubt any other current inhabitant of the lighthouse would mind entertaining him and his attentions. He had not. But after this…he had been a mess enough.

”Careful!”

Lucanis blinked and felt the familiar purple flash inside him, and stopped on his feet, looking down with a raised brow. The...puddle in front of him could just be described as fade-like, and Rook was watching it with as much intensity as Spite inside him was pushing at the back of his forehead as soon as he heard Rook’s voice. This wasn’t new but more…intense. Unsettling. After their improvised trip in the pits of his nightmares Spite had seemed even more fond of their team’s leader, and now he wasn’t sure where his own fondness ended and the demon’s began. How Rook had wrapped the demon around his finger was beyond him. No, not wrapped…calmed. Spite’s presence still felt invasive but not as wrong. It was more than Lucanis would have ever hoped since he woke up with a voice screaming in his mind he wanted out, and scrambled around his idea of a self to find it. And Rook had done that, got them out, two times in a row.

”I don’t mind some light experimentation but I would rather you didn't lose your foot.”

”Likewise,” Lucanis muttered, looking back at the puddle one last time before avoiding it.

”I’ll ask the Caretaker, or Emmrich, we had to get back here anyway, I’ll see if Bellara wants to join,”

Lucanis hummed with a nod. Rook turned his head lightly, giving him a quick look. 

“Lucanis-“

”We are not far from the main eluvian.”

”…one boat ride away.” Rook paused and scrutinized him again. Checking for the demon? …simple worry? Rook was hardly much taller than him, half a head on a good day, and the elf tended to slouch when not fighting, his head leaning on the side, so they weren’t quite eye to eye but Rook always searched his eyes. He did the same with the rest of the team to be fair, from Harding to Taash.

Rook was quiet again. The rest of the walk felt much quicker and they were standing in front of the eluvian that led back to the lighthouse in a moment. Another fade’s effect? He was growing quite tired of its mysteries. He could see nobody on the other side, or at least the rippling didn't send any image of people back. 

“Ready?”

”I do need a coffee.” 

Rook’s lip twitched up. The mage’s eyes lingered again, and then indulged down. The warmth of Rook’s palm, of his whole body if he wasn’t careful of where his mind went, distracted him from the little scars, how both of theirs rubbed on eachother. Rook squeezed his hand and looked at him with a question in his eyes. Lucanis nodded and the warmth grounded him as they went back…home.

✦

“Home sweet home,” Rook muttered and stretched his back in the room, didactically the eluvian room for the team, but didn't move his hand away from the hold. Lucanis wasn’t quite brave enough to look down at it as if the enchantment that was holding them together would disappear.

He wasn’t sure when Rook had turned to look at him, which wasn’t good since he was supposed to be an assassin, but the sheer intensity of the emotions he could see in Rook’s eyes made him falter.

Maker, he looked tired. He had noticed before, surely. The shadows under the mage’s eyes were more pronounced and his hair, curls and waves as wild as usual from wind, rain, or simply existing in this state, fell on his cheeks and forehead almost meekly. And Rook was anything but meek. The edge of the mouth was cast down, not unusual from what he had noticed of Rook when relaxed, but he wasn’t sure he was relaxed now. The hold at the hand had softened but not moved. Lucanis had never realized quite how his own hands were cold. He was distantly happy he was not wearing gloves.

”Lucanis,” 

This time he didn't reply with some inane answer to divert the attention, and Spite attuned back to him as soon as the first letters had been spoken. He simply looked at him, that always seemed the solution.

”Can I-“ they blinked at each other and Lucanis did not control himself nodding - could as well have been Spite, not that he had the excuse of purple presences now - thinking for a mad moment something else would happen. But Rook leaned in, and wrapped his arms around him.

The hug was thigh and Lucanis stilled in it. He felt Rook moving his head and likely turning, and Lucanis moved his arms before it was too late. He had given Rook the wrong impression enough times. He wrapped his arms around Rook’s middle, while Rook strengthened the loop around his shoulders. He could hear his breath shaking, and Lucanis took a tentative one too. Rook felt strangely heavy and light at the same time now, part of his weight resting on him. Lucanis would gladly take it all, if it meant unburdening Rook even a little.

Lucanis’ forehead pulsed, not from Spite but from the residues of magic Rook was exuding. Mages always felt that way, but it was more acute when the spells were recent. The back of his eyes felt heavy but he wasn’t about to let him go, they had both suffered worse than a minor headache, even if he felt like scratching his own back of the eyes. He wasn’t about to say it to Rook either, or the mage would never forgive himself for something that wasn’t his fault.

Steps echoed in the stairs and Lucanis stilled, both disentangling themselves in less than a second. Lucanis couldn’t help his gaze from lingering. He thought of smoothing a wrinkle on Rook’s shirt under the coat. He had worn no armour, not that the mage was in the habit to, but today’s clothes had been more casual, softer if he ever knew how his clothes felt before.

”You are all right!” The Dalish’s mage voice chirped, and she was the first to walk, if not run, toward them.

Rook got back to himself surprisingly well, even if Lucanis could still see the stiffness in the arms and shoulders. The mage shined a smile to Bellara and the others, who had either been chatting together in the main hall or had been waiting back for them. For Rook, not for them.

”Only a minor stumble along the way,” Rook made smiling seem easy, even if he had felt like he may have crumbled on himself a second before. “You happen just right, we noticed a strange puddle along the way in the crossroads,”

”Oh?” Professor Volkarin quickly provided, as expected. Harding and Taash were in the back and Lucanis was surprised the two weren’t somewhere else giggling and blushing at each other. Davrin was there but there was no sight of Assan, which was as surprising. “strange how, if i may ask?”

”A good question,” Rook gave a lopsided smile. Lucanis felt a prickling at the back of his neck, of being stared at, which should not have been unusual right now, as he was standing in front of people, but…he passed his gaze toward the little crowd and saw Neve staring right back at him. He considered smiling but that felt awkward. Her look back was similar and for a moment Lucanis wondered if he was still holding Rook’s hand in his. They weren’t, he checked immediately, even if his hand was resting awkwardly on his side and it would be even more weird to move it. Neve grinned back at him. “I have no idea, I’ll bring you and Bellara tomorrow if it’s all right for you. I really need a nap now.”

The group nodded approvingly — Bellara and Emmrich humming in double yes — of Rook choosing to sleep by his own will and not by being tricked with a particularly heavy food or stack of chocolate. Even Davrin getting him high by mistake had worked, not that Lucanis forgave him that. 

They were moving out, everybody flocking back their way, was it their own rooms or the communal areas, and Lucanis turned opening his mouth, but quickly closed it.

”Rook, steal you for a second?” The warden’s deep voice was easy to hear even when he didn't speak loudly. “I have something to discuss.”

”Of course. Only if you let me pet Assan.”

“If you want to end up with him attached all day to you, sure, be my guest.”

Lucanis was gone before he could hear the rest of the conversation, and if he felt the same neck prickling feeling of being watched he ignored it. 

✦

“They smelled funny,” Taash was sitting on the edge of the couch, giving a smile down to their beloved scout who was sitting on it.

”Funny?” The dwarf raised a brow at the qunari.

”Not like they usually do,” provided Taash, “Rook is always worried, but he was sweating more, so more worried,”

Emmrich had not noticed the young elf sweating but he did trust the renowned smell of qunaris, of theirs in particular, on this matter.

”And Lucanis?” Bellara had been sitting on the other side of the young couple, on the couch with Mrs. Gallus, the detective sipping her brew. Emmrich didn't quite mind having a seat just for himself, as the order had seemed to come naturally, and the couch had been filled in already by the time he had joined the group, both today and at his first arrival so to speak.

”Dunno. Lucanis was weird too, but he always is, must be the demon.”

Lace, — Emmrich reminded himself, he did have to put some effort if he didn't want to be called Professor after all, — nodded at the words. Emmrich was not aware if her diffidence towards demons was particularly acute because of her ferelden origins or just the general distrust diffused all around Thedas. 

“I did not notice any strange activity from our neighbour demon,” on the other hand, giving a look to their crow colleague in passing he had not even detected any demon activity, at all. The purple figure with its uncanny resemblance to its rogue had not walked or floated around Lucanis at all, or tried to throw itself back to the mirror.

”Maybe they had a fight?” Bellara said, making Emmrich wonder how the smells could have been affected by Lucanis and Spite having a fight before realizing she was referring to Rook, and the others were nodding to various degrees.

Taash seemed perplexed. “Aren’t they like attached to the hip?”

”Even couples can fight,” if Bellara had sighed dreamily it would have almost fit perfectly in one of her own stories. She was likely thinking of them and the new material now.

”But…” Lace blinked between the others, “they aren’t together…are they?”

”I’ll investigate.” It was unclear if Neve meant about the fight, a possible relationship, or both.

Bellara’s eyes shined eagerly, ”Can I help?”

✦

Maker (the evocation was becoming funnier by the minute since their late discoveries), he was tired.

Rook was tired, but this didn't mean in any way it helped him sleep. If possible the contrary.

He had been wandering for quite a while. He had explored the new — newly found would have been more accurate, nothing felt really new here, like the crossroads despite their nature, it was much more an exploring rather than a finding — music room from back to end, and the other room it had led him too. And a terrace. And the place that felt more like an abandoned closet rather than the office he imagined Solas used. He had not talked of it to the others yet, but it was in a pretty obvious spot and the door did open awfully easy. It felt like a…breach of privacy to talk about it. He wasn't sure it was the elven god in his mind or just his qualms. 

Passing in front of his room for likely the third time he stared at the corridor with its green hues. It wasn't inviting at all, and it made him want to run away for a fourth trip around the lighthouse rather than see that aquarium. It was rather silly, he could have asked the caretaker to just…change that room, but Rook had felt a strange pull when he got in it the first time and it felt wrong to change the room that he first slept in - if not considering the infirmary - and contacted Sols (again, infirmary. Maybe going to talk to Varric?). He was scared he would not be able to contact Solas without it, and something told him that room had been there before him, which did account for it not following his taste unlike the other rooms. He had not unpacked anyway.

Rook did turn, and took a step, before a flurrying of robes halted him.

”Ah, Rook,” a familiar nevarran voice welcomed him, Rook winching back a yawn, “I thought you would have been sleeping.”

Rook grinned a bit to the other mage, the golden bracelets twinkling slightly in the low light of the lighthouse, which mimicked in everything a day night cycle, kind concession of their caretaker. “Me too. I took a walk, to tire myself out.”

Emmrich chuckled ever politely, kind smile to top it off.

”Ah, the wonders of youth, just wait my age to tire yourself out easily,”

”You through it very well, if that’s the case,”

Emmrich gave a little head bow and smile, “Flattery,” Rook grin broadened a little with a shrug of shoulders. “If sleep is the case, may I suggest trying some new tea I just acquired from our kind veil jumpers friends? Manfred has gotten really good at boiling water at different temperatures for different teas, he just has to learn which tea is which.”

”How could I ever say no to that?”

✦

Rook watched the stream of the tea in the making being poured, a smile on his face as Manfred chattered, or the skeleton equivalent of it. Emmrich had shown him to what Rook considered one of the coziest places up to date in the lighthouse, the armchairs partly under the staircase and near the library. Rook’s legs were dangling, since it felt impolite to ask if he could put them under him when he was wearing boots that could dirty it.

“I wasn’t aware you did actually like tea,” Emmrich said as he sat on the other armchair and Rook half expected a blanket to appear on his legs a moment or the other.

“Oh I don-, it’s familiar, mostly,”

Emmrich nodded and gave a series of praise to Manfred as Rook looked around some more. He did prefer chocolate, but he couldn't really eat It at all times of the day. And he’d end the stock. He’d have to try with Fade chocolate. He was sure that was a thing.

“Does Manfred not sit?”

“I did try, but Manfred seems to get restless when sitting for long and the bones seemed to place themselves uncomfortably,”

“Well, I don’t know if I would want to lose time sitting if I were undead, or had been dead once or…anyway,”

“A very good point, I do wonder if Manfred can get bored, but he is always so full of wonder for every little thing,”

Said spirit full of wonder expressed it through a delighted noise and presenting a cup to Rook, who thanked him and took the heated up ceramic in hand, warming his palms. Inhaling it the scent was similar to blueberries. At least the dalish teas were different from the ones of his past. 

“If I’m permitted,” chirped in Emmrich after a few moments of the two of them longing at their respective cups, Rook raising a brow but nodding at him, “I noticed that you seemed troubled,”

Rook grinned despite himself, “When am I ever not,”

Emmrich looked chided and Rook felt a pang of guilt, a familiar feeling, “I apologise, that was impolite,”

“No, no,” he rushed trying to contain damage, “none at all, and to top it off, you are right. But I’ve not been troubled just for one thing in quite a while…” rook stared at his tea which he had not sipped yet, and Emmrich’s, and Manfred who was playing with the rest of the set and back at Emmrich. “Can I ask something?”

“Of course.” Emmrich replied ever politely but with a glint of curiosity much like his own skeleton’s friend. Minus the green glowing eyes.

“Have you ever been in the…well, you have been in the fade, but the fade in someone’s mind? I guess. Like, with spirits there which are people and…” Rook inhaled the scent of the tea, which he preferred to the taste anyway. “this doesn’t make sense.”

“I am sure it does make sense,” Emmrich gave him a calming smile, which Rook realized did calm him, if for a second, “you are just struggling to find the words to describe it.” It made Rook smile imagining the professor in similar conversations to his students, a normal encounter for a necromancer must have not been that different to his, “It sounds like this was an…oddly personal experience.” 

“It was. It…I’m not sure the person involved would be happy about me talking about…their mind.”

Emmrich nodded and sipped his tea. “I would never pressure you to such a thing. But sometimes our most closed ones problems burden us as much as they do them. Remember the gardens? For who are the tombs? As you eloquently said then, the dead are dead.”

“…for the living.”

“Exactly.”

“I…” Rook moved his gaze for a moment, greeted by Manfred’s smile. He was baffled he could even recognise a smile there, but people could see smiles in clouds so he guessed seeing it in a face-shaped being wasn’t that far fetched after all. “It’s just…there were some people we both know. In this person’s mind…fade thing, I mean.” Rook took a big breath and a sip. It wasn’t that bad. Maybe with biscuits. “And they said some…some awful things about him.”

“Your…reflection too?”

“Yes. Especially.”

“I would assume that has hurt you.”

“It did.” The edges of the cup were starting to feel more lukewarm than just warm. “It upset me.”

Silence fell for a while and Rook scratched his head with a sigh, gulping down some more tea. 

“I didn’t mean to monopolize your evening Emmrich, forgive me,”

“Oh, on the other hand, I quite appreciate the conversation, and you have helped me and our fellow companions many times already, it’s just fair we play our part,”

“I just walked you around, really,”

Emmrich tilted his head in a way Rook would have not even noticed had he not been watching intently. “Trust me, it was much more than that, and you may not have noticed but you are a good listener,”

“It’s the ears,”

Emmrich coughed in his tea a little and Rook grinned. 

“This…mind fade you visited. Do you recall more of it?”

“Yes. It was like a very vivid dream. And I’m starting to forget details by the minute. It makes me doubt it even happened.”

“Understandable. And you were alone there?”

“…not quite.”

Emmrich nodded and Rook wondered on what he was exactly nodding at.

“Hm, very interesting. I always wondered how spirits would interact in the minds of individuals they inhabit or visit,”

Rook felt sweat forming on his neck and forehead. Had he revealed too much? Lucanis would never forgive him. He considered for a moment begging Emmrich to not let this get out of the room, but that would have just revealed more. He had not exactly been subtle talking of this just when he got back from Treviso. Fucking idiot.

“Was never visited by one yourself? I thought the necropolis was full of them?”

“They are very well behaved,”

Manfred as on clue made a chattering sound and Rook snorted.

“Didn’t seem so of late,”

“Newly fashioned gods do trouble them.”

The evening proceeded peacefully. Rook had missed it. Not that he had much of it before. Such an ambience, armchairs and libraries would have upset him but a few years before, but there was too much of a difference, starting from the air. And the skulls. Were they all actual former people?

Rook had been breathing easily, sipping more of the tea distractingly as Emmrich asked Manfred for this or that, when blinking he brought a hand to his cheek. It was wet. 

“Rook?”

The voice was kind, and ever warm, but it was the word that hurt him. A sharp nail over his heart that was missing his name being called out. His actual one, even if he run from it.

“I’m sorry-“ He was keenly aware of Manfred seeing this too, and he hated the idea of Manfred being upset. Maker, what a mess, he was a mess. But the flood had opened. “Just, it’s…why do I always have to pick things that are so complicated. I...i can't even fault him for what there was in his head. Not more than I can in mine. And It would be as bad. Worse. I, why I couldn’t just…something ease, uncomplicated,” It was not only his eyes, his mind was too getting flooded by memories, and he couldn’t distinguish what was his actually voice and that other him, saying all that vile things. But some had been true…that didn’t make them hurt less, “…safe.”

Rook felt a hand over his, grounding him, and breathing through the nose in a quite pathetic sound e looked up at the necromancer. “You are an adventurous young man,” he said, as if a compliment, and knowing Emmrich it was, “It wouldn’t have fit you.”

That did make Rook smile and feel a little silly, but also small. “I’m sorry Emmrich, I,” he swiped his face from the tears and looked around as if he would find a tissue, “I don’t know what got into me, I should go,”

“Now, there is some little tea left to finish, I wouldn’t want to upset Manfred,”

Rook chuckled and turning he saw that Manfred was in fact holding his hands together and standing there, even worried if the two mages were reading it right. Rook gave him a weak smile.

“Then I suppose I’ll have to stay, to not upset Manfred, of course,”

Emmrich left the hand go and gave him a caring smile, “Brilliant.” 

Rook wasn’t sure how he fell asleep, two cups of tea later. 

✦

Retreating back in the pantry had seemed a good idea back at the time, some long hours before, but Lucanis wasn’t sure now. When he had picked this as a room he had not considered the others would be there talking constantly. It was good for information gathering, obviously, and the walls weren’t that thick. But a part of him thought he was going to bite the wall at any minute. Or that was Spite.

He had laid down on the cot without sleeping and finished the coffee he had in the room, which had not been much, but that had been about it. Spite had not tried to take control, or been overly mean than his standard.

The back of his head wasn’t even hurting from the wood supporting his body, as a small pillow was under it. Rook’s idea. Or rather, Rook had come back from the wetlands (such a horrible name if he was asked, fitting for a horrible place) and presented him with the bundle covered in the small rendition of a griffon. Lucanis had been confused and thought that was a mistake and it was meant for Davrin. But instead Rook had been sure and nodded, he seemed to find the idea amusing, and Lucanis didn’t mistake the meaning of “try to get some sleep for the good of the team”. The griffons’ face on the pillow was after all…cute.

The others outside were talking, it must have been very early morning by Lucanis’ inner clock, since there wasn’t any window in the room, and now he was resting with his head and back on the wall, part of his back sustained by the same griffon pillow. The words were drowning out mostly, as meaningless chatter filled with some gossip on Taash and Harding, the two particularly flustered by it, most from the scout who seemed to have woken up not long before by the sound of it. Taash too since they were not talking as much either.

He followed like this for a good while, until a name picked up his attention for good. It was Emmrich’s voice. Lucanis had not gotten up to make breakfast, but they’d survive for one day, and he doubted they expected him to. They had gotten in the habit of letting the people who just went to missions to rest, no matter Lucanis didn’t follow that much, or that they didn’t know what kind of mission he had just gotten back from, if you could even call it a mission.

“I fear we might have underestimated just how…lonely our Rook is,”

Lucanis had gone very still and rested his hands to the side to best not make any sound.

“But he isn’t!” Bellara’s voice had some traces of sleepiness but he could guess she had found her way to some of that awful brew Neve called coffee. “He has us!”

“Does he?” Neve. Not more than one coffee from her tone.

“What I think our detective is trying to say,” Emmrich again. Lucanis closed his eyes to better picture the scene. “is that Rook shoulders our worries and far fetched missions, while at the same time he has his own all the same,”

Lucanis’ heart felt particularly heavy. 

“But we would help!” Bellara’s upset didn’t help Lucanis feeling even more like shit. A shit in particular. 

“It takes a great pain to admit you need help,” continued the professor, “for someone so self reliant. Even realize you need it.”

Lucanis’ chest was treating to tear itself apart if he didn’t take a big breath, but he was afraid they would hear, even if nobody was listening that he knew of.

“But…” Harding. “…did you talk to Rook?”

“Simply found him taking a stroll instead of sleeping, which I can’t say is unusual around our spaces,”  Lucanis could imagine the little smiles at that. 

“When he said he’d be sleeping.” Punctualized Neve, as if Lucanis needed to suffer even more. 

“Yes.”

“I wouldn’t like to sleep with a god asshole in my head,” added Taash.

“Wait, he dreams him like all the time?” Lucanis wondered if Rook had actually talked about it to any of them. He’d have guessed he would have with Bellara, since well…elven gods and all that. But from how Rook spoke of it it had not seemed more than jokes. He wasn’t sure of what he thought of it back then. That Rook coped particularly well? Everybody seemed to be coping better than himself at the time.

“I’m not privy to what our young leader dreams, but I would not be surprised all our consciousness lingered in the fade much more since we are inside it. A mind touched by such a powerful being even more.”

“And here I thought my dreams were bad,” he heard the voice and then what he guessed was Taash put a hand on the dwarf’s shoulder.

“But can’t we do anything?” With all the care Bellara showed for her fellow friends Lucanis had thought at first she has been with at least every member of the group, before he understood it was in fact just her way of being.

“Kick the god from his head?”

A good point, actually. Lucanis would have liked to see that in action. It took him a moment to realize that it had been Davrin, he had not heard him speak till then, and the noises hadn’t made him notice he could have been one of the people rummaging through his once well organized shelves. He would put things back in place later, no need for the Caretaker for such menial tasks. And it helped to get his mind off things.

“Some time off the jobs would help I’m sure, even with such a tight schedule,”

“He found time for ours,” Lucanis was partly surprised that came from Neve, “we can find time for his.”

“What about family?” Harding asked, finishing some either cookie or bread. 

“Already took care of that.” Replied Neve ominously. They were both tevinter and shadows so the others didn’t dig more into it.

“Maybe a simple trip?” Bellara proposed. “A new room? His is so gloomy! And with no decorations!”

“Gifts?” 

“He did get me quite a thoughtful statuette,” 

“Me too! I mean, not that but a figurine but, anyway-“

Oh Maker, he had never gotten him a gift, had he? Had any of them? 

After that day at the market, where Rook had followed him around to collect goods to cook. Sure, he had been the first on the line to eat and shower the cooking in compliments, but Lucanis had gone on and on about the various companions, but not him. And Rook had gotten him a wyvern dagger…and that coffee brewer, and that pillow, and asked if he needed a new jacket and…it was difficult to ignore the weight of the metal on his own heart. He should have hated how easily this new life lent for metaphors. Emmrich was right…shit.

✦

“Are you going to stand there and look gloomy all day?”

“I’m not standing, I’m doing exercises,”

“Hm hm,”

The tevinter mage — not the one Lucanis had been so painfully thinking about for the last hours — looked him up and down and shook her head. 

“Your coffee has arrived, it’s on the right shelf,” Lucanis said as he moved his hand again in a familiar motion, stretching it with the dagger in hand, the movement clearing his mind and reminding him of his job above all. “Which, if you didn’t decide to drink it right, is out of my room.”

“Which is a closet. It’s telling.”

Lucanis gave her a side eye, but Neve didn’t seem deterred. 

“You are avoiding everybody. And Rook.”

Lucanis had in fact been rehearsing all that had happened in great detail, and then back again, and then started over with the next set of exercises. He didn’t even go how much Rook did see, and he wasn’t sure, in his egoism, that he wanted to know. He had not even got to the stretches by the time he started planning dinner. He would not admit either under torture.

“It’s been less than a day. He’s sleeping.”

“Hm.”

Lucanis sighed, putting his dagger back in the belt and taking out another. Neve was good looking, sure, and a great conversationalist, and he had spared a thought or two in her direction, but with the mess in his head, and outside, the time to breathe had seemed more of a luxury. Lucanis guessed it did say something about him, infamous mage killer for contracts on tevinter mages, to get attached to one tevinter mage after the other. What would Caterina have said?

“Want an advice?”

“Not really.”

“Talk to him.”

Lucanis turned, waving the hand, looking at the knife in it and putting it down with a frown. Neve was impassible. 

“Me and Rook may have had our disagreements, but he’s a fellow shadow. A friend. You too, whatever you may think. And it’s quite painful seeing you two pine so obviously.”

“You have no idea what you are talking about.”

“I think I do.”  She stayed there, staring at him for a long moment with an intensity of scrutiny that made Lucanis think of his grandmother once more, before Neve took a step back. “Try?”

“…Fine.”

“See? You can be reasonable.”

“Out of my room.”

“What was it about coffee?”

“I’m going to poison you all one day.”

“You’d miss us.”

Lucanis hated that it was true.

✦

Rook almost jerked away from himself and took out his dagger, when he realized he had none on. Fuck, was he in Lucanis’ mind again-

A looming grey welcomed him ominously instead. Ah. Sure.

“I do imagine this is some deep sleep and not a matter of relevance that managed to happen while I was not looking for a few moments.”

Rook sighed in deeply. “Emmrich’s tea is very strong.”

The elf nodded solemnly in front of him and his tone was serious even for such a ridiculous thing, “I was never fond of tea. But I do miss the experience.”

“Don’t like it either.” What the fuck was he doing, talking of tea with the dread wolf? “But it was rude not to accept.”

Solas nodded with a hum. It reminded Rook of Emmrich for a second. He looked around the place that even for its changing nature, as the lighthouse, felt oddly the same since that first time, and the air stale again. He realized Solas must have simply been lonely, stuck in here, he didn’t have anybody else to talk but him waltzing in to ask help and then running off again. No…he was not going to follow this train of thought.

Rook shifted on his feet, unsure on how exactly he was going to get back to his normal dreams, or when. This had not been the first time he happened here when not meaning to, but it had not been enough to get used to it.

“Does the…” Rook waved at the cliff with ominous hands reaching up in front of them that acted as a separation. Which made Rook wonder next about if Solas just stood there all day to wait or actually moved around his side of the Fade. Wait, could Rook explore his own? Was it similar to the crossroads or more like the fade before the veil was breached? He had heard of dreamers from before, but hadn’t been as interested back then. “Breach thing has to be this big? Or is it constructed this way?”

Solas gave it a look as if to be reminded of it, his hands behind his back and looking once more at him. “You have more control on it than I do. It is your head, after all.”

“Wasn’t it the fade? You had been very specific about it with the whole blood magic thing,”

“Semantics seem to be my forte, not yours.”

Rook snorted lightly and he would have not been heard if not for the eery silence but for their voices, “I’m aware.”

Giving up on verbal sparring he closed his eyes, and tried to imagine the cliff closing, or a bridge, or anything. He must have confused the fade, (or it didn’t work like this, because in a dream it would have already happened, if not for a particular irritating one,) since nothing happened.

“Nope.” He huffed out, opening his eyes and crossing his arms. Solas gave him an unimpressed look, but he saw the hint of a smirk. 

Well, it seemed he wasn’t going anywhere any time soon. So much for resting and getting some sleep. Never accepting tea again. Well, since he was here already…

“The…Inquisitor said you used to have a spirit friend.”

Solas paused, not that he had been moving, but he seemed more still and watched him better. Rook tried not to shift around. “Cole. Yes.”

“Was he…human?”

“That is a narrow question, and misleading.”

“He had a human body.”

“You are asking if he was an abomination.”

“I…guess?”

“For humans, maybe. For the southern templars, and other narrow minds.”

“But he wasn’t.”

“Again, narrow and incomplete. He was a spirit of compassion twisted from a human body and human memories. He was helping a boy and in his death took over him. It proceeded in the overlapping of the boy’s memory and personality with the spirit’s being.”

Rook was starting to feel his hands clammy.

“So…was the result Cole or the spirit?”

“It’s hard to tell.” 

“So…if a demon did the same with a person?”

“A corrupted spirit could easily take hold of a person, but as you have noticed in your experience they do not tend to worry about the previous host of the body,”

“…of course.”

Solas gave him a pointed look that made Rook think he knew exactly why he was asking, but he didn’t prod him further.

“So, if-“ Rook saw his vision wavering, “no, wait-“ 

Everything got blurry, and after a blink and Solas’ resigned expression, he felt hit by cold in his face, the fade slipping away. 

When Rook woke the first thing he heard was the creaking of the windows. A small breeze was entering, the light outside low in a sunset. It truly reflected their world well. It had all been real world before, or all fade. Still. 

Despite this, and the wind that had got to him enough to wake him, it was warm. His feet were tucked on the armchair under his legs, with a blanket he wasn’t sure he had felt being placed to which he was clutched to.

He wasn’t wearing boots either and he had been leaning on the side, with a pillow put between him and the empeeding fall of his entire body on the library. Banging his head there would have not been nice.

Wait…sunset? Rook turned again to look at the big windows of Emmrich’s room, craining his neck up while stretching it. The sky was in fact a hue of pink oranges and purples, which wasn’t different from usual time sky but he had learned to recognise dawn from dusk and so on. He had been pretty sure he had seen a similar one when he had gotten back with Lucanis the evening before, so this was a new one. 

It was already evening, he had not just woken up, he had slept a whole day. Had Emmrich left him there or had Rook not heard?

Sighing he passed a hand on his face. At least it wasn’t wet anymore. His stomach burped. Oh, well. It was time to face it anyway.

✦

Lucanis was putting down a cloth, wiping his hands one last time, when the door creaked and closed, and familiar feet walked on the floor. He did not move.

“Lucanis- oh, you are cooking,” Rook’s voice sounded tense and oddly relaxed at the same time. Lucanis wasn’t strong enough to not turn. Rook greeted him with a smile that immediately transformed in a yawn, “sorry, i can’t remember the last time i slept this long,” he blinked some yawn-induced tears away and scratched his neck. It was hard not to look at him, a cheek a little redder than the other where he must have slept on, the hair a bit flattened on the same side and the clothes crumpled. They were the same from the day before. A part of him wanted to touch, get something even close to that hug.

“Are you feeling…better?” Lucanis had been waiting all day for this to happen, and yet he was wholly unprepared. He had imagined so many scenarios, of Rook coming in with the others, or maybe not at all, and this was the best of them, and yet he could just look at him with his mouth half open.

Rook nodded, tilting his head to spy the food behind him and Lucanis chuckled despite himself. Rook smiled in answer, sniffing with an exaggerated air. “What is that?”

“Paella. Well, two of them. One without seafood for Emmrich.” Lucanis explained. He played with a cuticle. “And churros for dessert. They pair well with cioccolata calda.”

“Oh, that’s nice, wait…” Rook blinked and turned to look at him again. Lucanis felt his stomach drop slightly. The elf’s eyes thinned a little in questioning and Lucanis nodded enough to give a message but not enough to be humiliating in case Rook had decided he was too much of a bother, ”they are…for me? I mean, the dessert and well, drink”

“There is enough for anyone,”

Rook immediately seemed unsure, lowering his gaze, and Lucanis felt the need to slap himself. If Spite was there he would have let him. But Spite was not there, he had not been for the whole day but in little twitches and quick words that felt more like thoughts. It was even more unnerving, like it was doing it on purpose. 

“I saved you some more chocolate too,”

Rook’s lines around the mouth did ease again. “That’s good, I would have been stealing all the others drinks otherwise.” 

“I’ll make sure they won’t complain.”

Rook smiled but the silence fell again. It wasn’t as the easy one that had been lingering for some time between the two of them, but rather an heavy one. They both knew what lingered in it, but neither of them was making the first step, or-

“You…you didn’t need to Lucanis.”

There. 

“Yes I did.“ Lucanis hoped he had kept the cloth in hand, at least he’d have an excuse to turn. ”I…I still don’t know how to apologise for everything. And you…”

Rook moved and giving him a quick assessment he took his forearm. Not the hand, neither a hug, but just holding his arm with his hand, where the shirt was. He had stopped wearing leathers in such moments and found it had not been the end of the world. He thanked it was the case right now. 

“You made dessert. For me.”

“…yes.” Rook’s hand squeezed and Lucanis had to stay very still not to close his eyes and sigh. “It's the least I could do and…It’s nothing. Or not enough anyway.“

Rook snorted, shaking his head. “Stop with that. It is for me.” he opened his mouth but then seemed to change his mind and hummed for a second, either letting the smell of food simmer in, one of Rook’s many hobbies, or searching the words. “And you are. Enough.”

Rook squeezed the arm again and looked at it for a long time. Lucanis wished intensely he would look up before his lips started to tremble. When he did the light of the kitchen hit his eyes and hair in a way that made him understand all that romance novels and paintings. He had never seen one such as him in the galleries of Treviso. He’d have hired a painter if necessary.

“And also, you may have noticed I’m easily bribed with chocolate,” Rook smiled with a glint in his eyes that had less to do with the light, “or whatever,”

Pregnant silences were becoming kind of their thing as the two stood there.

“Is that so,” Lucanis didn’t know where his own boldness came from.

Rook grinned.

Lucanis almost felt the lips on his, the softness. Or maybe they’d be a little rough and chipped, of what Rook would have tasted like, if his favourite foods lingered. If he stayed particularly still he could feel the magic, how his forehead was starting to push in a light headache, that had started to buzz since the first touch.

He felt the breath on his, how his skin tingled and Rook’s fingers dug in his skin as he leaned closer. 

“Hey guys is the- OH M-“

The warmth was gone as soon as it almost happened. Lucanis should have complimented Rook for his reflexes as he was turned back in a moment. Lucanis almost got the kitchen knife out to throw it to the intruder.

“TAASH!”

“SORRY!” 

The qunari ran away before either of them could say anything. No doubt to tell the rest of the team. Or rather, Harding, and then Harding to whoever crossed her path first.

“Well that was…” Rook started and shrugged as his shoulder shook in a small laugh. Lucanis blinked up at him and Rook moved his hand away, Lucanis’ arm missing the contact direly. 

“Annoying?”

“Who, me?” Lucanis made a face to reply but Rook’s laugh was quicker, slipping his arm behind Lucanis to steal some paella and the assassin batted his hand. “You are evil.”

“Terribly.” Lucanis felt his lips curl in a smile that almost hurt his face for the sheer intensity of it.

“Let’s set the table before Taash reaches the others, you can threat them over dinner if you like,”

“I needed permission?”

“You do cook our food,” He was growing accustomed to Rook’s grin. “Let’s…talk after dinner?” 

He smiled, and didn’t stop Rook from stealing a bit of paella at his second try. By the time the first of their teammates arrived, Rook was already sitting and definitely not munching over an additional plate that Lucanis did not make just for him.