Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Treviso. One of the finest cities in Antiva… now living under occupation. Rook felt a twisting sensation deep in her gut as she led Harding through familiar streets, a once beloved home that had cast her out nearly a year prior. 

“I’ve arranged for one of my friends to meet us,” she chattered idly as they neared their destination. Harding snorted softly, “Is this one of the friends who sent you away, or one of the ones who wrote you letters?” Rook felt a smile tug at her lips. Lace Harding held grudges on her behalf in the way that only a true friend could. “Neither,” a purposefully vague response. 

Rook tapped Harding lightly on the arm as they approached a bridge, tipping her chin in the direction of their contact. Harding fixed her face into a neutral expression, though Rook knew her well enough to recognize the tight discomfort beneath the mask.

Teia turned to face them as they drew near, her face breaking into an easy smile. “You made it! I hear you go by Rook these days,” Teia’s warm greeting was genuine, and she assessed Rook briefly before nodding to her dwarven companion. 

“It’s good to see you. Meet Andarateia of House Cantori.” Rook cocked her head to Harding as she spoke.

“No need to be formal with friends, Teia, please.” Teia glanced at Rook, expectation in her eyes as she turned and led them further into the heart of Treviso.

“Oh, Teia, this is Lace Harding. She traveled with Varric and I, after…” Rook trailed off slightly, still uncomfortable discussing the circumstances of her departure. 

Teia hummed lightly, “Come. Viago is gathering the others, he’s happy you’re home.” Rook laughed bitterly, even as her chest tightened at Teia’s words.

“I doubt that.” Her tone was harsher than she had intended, and Harding spared her a sidelong glance. She queried lowly again, “Sent you away, or sent you letters?” She read Rook’s tone and body language like she’d known her their entire lives. Rook shot back quickly “Both.”

Harding rolled her eyes, well used to Rook’s flippant and evasive answers. 

If Teia found the exchange odd, she didn’t say. “Trust me. He complains more when you’re not around.” Rook had to grin at that, and as they continued in companionable silence. Despite their less than amicable parting, Rook had missed Viago, regardless of what she was willing to admit aloud. She had spent the majority of her life under his strict tutelage, and she couldn’t help but wonder if her absence had left him feeling as raw and vulnerable as it left her.

The Talons would have been satisfied with a brief 'grounding' of privileges after Rook’s 'error in judgement,' but Viago had always held Rook to a standard beyond that of any other Crow, and the memory of his fury and subsequent banishment still stung. The life of a Crow was all Rook had ever known, Viago the closest thing to family she’d ever had. Viago’s willingness to send her away with Varric, nothing more a grateful stranger to her at the time, had felt like a betrayal. 

In her time away, Viago sent a few letters, none of which she responded to, and only the last of which had she kept. Varric sent some correspondence back, but Rook held fast to her anger, lest it give way to crushing grief. Varric never pushed and Harding never asked, content to allow Rook to forge ahead with them, temporarily free of Crow politics and Antivan drama.

Varric had been good to Rook, smoothing her sharp edges. He seemed to value the aspects of her that Viago had always been frustrated with, and the recognition softened Rook to him quickly. Harding, for her part, had been mildly uncomfortable around Rook at first, but Varric’s insistence and Rook’s good humor wore her down quickly. They formed an easy friendship, strengthened further by time spent on the road and the rhythm of numerous battles. 

“The Antaam have made themselves comfortable,” Harding’s voice cut through Rook’s contemplation, and Teia responded grimly “We have suffered their company for too long.” Teia gave a lackluster overview of the political landscape to Harding, who listened with polite interest. Rook had already briefed her in advance, but it was one thing to receive a report, and another thing to see the weight of Antaam occupation in person. Treviso’s grand architecture was currently marred by the makeshift scrap metal of Antaam checkpoints, their crimson flags hanging in stark contrast to the cool Antivan purples and blues. The Antaam marched through the streets, adding an oppressive quality to the soft currents of the usual evening market rush.

“I hate seeing Treviso ground down.” Rook spoke quietly, and Harding gave her arm a quick, reassuring squeeze as they walked. Rook might have retaliated against such a show of affection at another time in her life, but her friendship with Harding was a privilege that her prior life simply hadn’t afforded. She found that she made almost endless exceptions and allowances to maintain that privilege. Still, her return to the home of the Antivan Crows had old habits bubbling back to the surface, and she had to stifle a flinch at the unexpected contact. 

Teia continued their conversation, as they scaled a trellis and approached a lively rooftop. “This occupation will not last. The Antivan crows remain. And one day, I will see a knife through every would-be-tyrant’s throat.” One day, Rook mused to herself. Teia had openly approved of Rook’s act of violence against the Antaam, if not the spontaneity of her actions. “Such things require proper planning,” she had lightly scolded at the time, “And such plans must now be placed on hold. Don’t fret too much, your heart was right, Vi will come around.”

Teia took the zipline leading to the Cantori Diamond without looking back, but Harding balked at the height. “Really? I mean, really?” She looked at Rook, searching for a nonexistent punchline. Rook smiled, equal parts apologetic and amused, “Sorry Harding, flight is a Crow staple.”

Harding grumbled something about dramatic Antivans, before following Teia’s lead. Rook brought up the rear, and she arrived flushed and grinning. “Crows love a good zipline,” she patted Harding on the head as she landed, earning herself a swat. 

Teia looked on in amusement, but Harding was already busy looking around as they headed towards the stairwell. “A… casino?” Harding’s distaste for the Crows couldn’t override her curiosity and awe at the spectacle of it all. “The Cantori Diamond.” Rook gestured grandly. Sweeping archways revealed breathtaking views across the city from the balcony where they had landed, the canals reflecting Treviso’s twinkling lights. Crows milled about comfortably amongst the understated opulence of the Diamond’s terrace, a fashionable crowd of leathers and feathers.

“Mm, fancy,” Harding teased, and Rook laughed, forgetting for a moment that she had been nervous at all. 

Rook’s laugh died in her throat as they entered the Diamond, and she met Viago's eyes almost instantly. She stopped inside so suddenly that Harding bumped into the back of her with a soft 'oof.' Teia continued forward as if she hadn’t noticed, moving to stand at Viago’s side. As if sensing the sudden shift, the rippling tension in the air, Harding moved to Rook’s side, not dissimilar to their well-practiced battle formation.

Rook released a soft breath and stepped forward, making her way carefully towards Viago. Her eyes never left his face, and as she moved, she observed.

He wore his hair shorter now, perfectly styled and out of his face. His armor was pristine, that much hadn’t changed, but the form fitting leathers revealed a thinner frame than she remembered. His eyes belied a sense of exhaustion, and she felt a slight pang at the thought that he wasn’t eating or sleeping as he should. Perhaps their separation had been hard on him, after all. 

“Did you finish that contract? To stop the Dread Wolf?” Viago questioned her sharply as she came to stand in front of him. Well, so much for missing me, Rook felt a spark of familiar irritation as he gazed at her, cold and unrelenting. But even as he glared, she caught the subtle softening in his shoulders, the way his eyes flicked over her, not dissimilar to how she had just examined him, confirming that she had indeed returned to him intact. 

“Hello Viago, and it’s complicated.” Rook was pleased that her voice did not shake or falter, and as Harding crossed her arms over her chest beside her, she felt a wave of confidence. I am not here alone, the thought bolstered her, even as Viago launched into one of his signature lectures.

“…tell you? Crows always finish the job.” Viago stood with one hand on his hip, apparently waiting for a response. “Mm,” she breathed, “We just can’t take initiative, right? My run-in with the Antaam taught me that.” Viago’s nostrils flared, but as he opened his mouth to continue his tirade, Teia’s hand on his arm silenced him. 

“Don’t let him scold you too much. Vi was worried about you.” Teia’s tone was teasing, but the tips of Viago’s ears went slightly red, and the nervous clearing of his throat as he broke eye contact with Rook confirmed the truth of her words. Before Rook could respond, Viago spoke again, nodding towards a pair of Crows observing their interaction. 

“Rook,” Viago spoke lowly, a hint of warning in his tone, “This is Caterina Dellamorte.” Rook’s eyes widened slightly, this was a surprise. However, she composed herself quickly, smiling at the sharp old woman with the well-practiced respect and deference Viago had spent years drilling into her. “The First Talon, I’m honored. Which makes you…” She directed a questioning glance at the handsome young man standing rigidly beside her. 

“Illario Dellamorte, her grandson. What brings you here?” He responded smoothly, and questioned her with an authority that Rook doubted he actually had. “Right,” she started, and turned purposefully away from Illario, back to Viago. She may have been gone for a year, but Rook was still sharply attuned to the intricacies of Crow politics, and she wouldn’t report to anybody other than her Talon, hurt feelings aside. The corner of Viago’s mouth twitched upward slightly in quiet approval of Rook’s subtle display of allegiance.

The conversation from there moved quickly, from Rook’s report and subsequent request for their best mage-killer, to the news that the Demon of Vyrantium was Caterina’s dead grandson, Lucanis. There was a dramatic reveal from Caterina of blood magic-altered corpses and suspected treachery, followed by her revelation that Lucanis was alive and imprisoned in secret. It was all very Antivan, and Rook idly hoped that the drama and fanfare lived up to Harding’s expectations. 

Caterina had proposed a deal: Free Lucanis Dellamorte from the Venatori prison, the Ossuary, and he would work the contract on the gods with Rook and her team. Rook glanced at Viago, hesitant to accept without his approval. He tilted his head forward slightly, say yes. How easily she bowed to Viago’s will again, just standing in his presence. She agreed, dipping her head graciously as the First Talon moved to stand. “I will make the arrangements, Illario will lead you.” Rook nodded to Illario, who looked like he’d been punched in the stomach. She felt a pang of sympathy for him, he had seemed very upset. She couldn’t imagine how she would have felt in his place, if it had been her own family.

Viago. She looked over at him again at the thought of family, suddenly aware that he was still watching her. “We should… discuss. Before you go.” His words were clipped, but his tone was soft. The tension from earlier was gone, replaced by a strange awkwardness, as if neither of them quite knew what to say. “Um, okay,” Rook mumbled, her earlier bravado had all but evaporated. She suddenly felt again like a little girl, desperate for reassurances of forgiveness after the sting of a harsh scolding. 

Viago motioned for Rook to follow as he moved to sit, and she fell in line at his heels like a trained hound, hating herself for her own deeply ingrained obedience. Harding moved to sit as well, right next to Rook. Viago’s eyebrows shot up, surprised at Harding’s bold assumption that she had been invited to join them.

Rook spoke quickly, too quickly. “Oh, this is Lace Harding, my friend. She travelled with Varric and I, she’s part of my team now. She’s very…” Rook faltered slightly, unsure what she meant to say for a moment, “I trust her. Very much.” A flush crept up Rook’s cheeks, she had never really had a friend, much less an acquaintance outside of the Crows, and she wasn’t entirely sure how to explain the relationship. Harding, apparently unaware of Viago’s skepticism or Rook’s discomfort, smiled pleasantly. 

“It’s nice to meet you! Are you Rook’s…” Harding trailed off momentarily, and then, to Rook’s horror, finished with “..dad?” Viago spluttered and coughed, almost as flustered by Harding’s poor assumption as Rook, who immediately dropped her head into her hands.

“No, I am… no. I am her Talon.” Viago’s hurried explanation was awkward and lacking any context that would be relevant to Harding. Harding’s eyes flicked between them, a bemused look on her face. Viago cleared his throat, and focused on Rook. “It… is good to see you are well. This mission, going to this Venatori prison, it will be… difficult.” Viago stared hard at Rook, searching her face for something.

Rook shrugged, “I can’t imagine it will be more difficult than what we’ve already dealt with, and what we have to deal with going forward. We’ll be fine.” Viago glanced at Harding again, still unsure of her perceived intrusion on what he had intended to be a private discussion. He sighed and leaned forward slightly, placing one gloved hand on Rook’s shoulder, much to her discomfort.

“I need you to be careful, Rook. Getting you involved in Dellamorte business, Lucanis being alive, a traitor among us…” He seemed to struggle for a moment, and tightened his grip on her arm. “I’ve kept you away from it successfully until now, for good reason, but we don’t have a choice anymore. Watch yourself.” Rook fidgeted under his grip, and nodded her assent. He released her, and she stood up quickly.

“Well, we should probably check in with Illario. We’ve got a Crow to rescue, after all.” Her tone was light, cheery even, but she couldn’t help the uneasy pit that had formed in her stomach at Viago’s warning, and she avoided his eyes as she walked away.

Illario seethed the entire walk to the boat. When he revealed the Ossuary was under the sea, Harding had practically turned green. “Under the…? Oho, this is going to be great.” She'd groaned at the revelation. Upon reaching the boat, Rook had expected Illario to join them, but his eyes shifted away, and he made an strange excuse about ensuring they hadn’t been tailed. Rook wondered briefly if he was afraid of travel by boat, she was certainly no swimmer herself. She didn’t press him on the issue, deciding that the less unknown variables she had to manage, the better.

Harding’s palpable anxiety only increased as they entered the Ossuary via strange magic, courtesy of a Crow mage. “Maybe you should have brought a mage with you? Neve or Bellara? Instead of… me? We could still go back.” Harding chattered nervously as Rook picked her way through bloodied Venatori corpses.

Rook ignored her as she examined the bodies and searched for clues. “Someone, or something, already took care of the guards for us…” she murmured, “Not sure if that’s a good thing yet.” Harding’s knuckles were white against the wood of her bow.

Rook briefly felt bad for Harding, but selfishly, she was glad to have her around. Neve and Bellara were still new to Rook, and like most Crows, she was a creature of habit when it came to her companions. Rook was most at ease fighting with Harding at her back, and confident enough in her own skills to keep her safe. Except at the ritual site, the thought crept in unbidden, and Rook nearly winced at the memory. Harding’s freckled face still bore the marks of partially healed bruises, and Rook was determined not to slip up at Harding’s expense a second time.

She ventured deeper into the prison, gasping softly as the chamber opened up ahead of them, revealing the Ossuary in all it’s grandeur. “This… isn’t like any prison I’ve ever seen. I imagine it would be beautiful… if it weren't drenched in dead Venatori and blood magic.” Rook watched a behemoth sea creature drifting lazily past in the distance, unable to penetrate the immense magic of the barrier that surrounded the crumbling elven architecture of the Ossuary. Schools of fish danced just outside, seemingly undisturbed by their movement within. However, Rook’s stomach flipped uncomfortably as she observed a few noticeable fissures in that barrier, where water sprayed inwards and soaked the white sands of the ocean floor.

Harding sighed, sticking so close that the two women brushed against one another as they walked, not quite shoulder to shoulder. Harding was rather tall for a dwarf, and Rook was short even for an elf, making their height difference feel less extreme than it might have otherwise been. “Rook, you take me to the worst places, you know that?” Rook grinned wickedly, but before she could respond in kind, there was a deep, echoing groan and the ground shifted under their feet, the whole prison shuddering around them. 

“Maker, this is awful. Are you sure about this, Rook? Do we really need another assassin? We already have you, and you’re great!” Harding babbled as they ventured deeper. Rook took a sharp right and slid nimbly down a sandy hill after the prison’s quaking ruined a bridge to their left. “We’re killing gods, Harding. We’re gonna need a lot of knives.” Rook kept her tone casual, and tossed what she hoped was a reassuring smile at Harding. Harding continued to grumble under her breath, until Rook stopped sharply, pulling out her longbow. Harding reached for her weapon as well, scanning the area. 

Ahead of them, a Venatori barrier hummed, red crystals blocking their path forward. They had seen this before, and Neve had briefed their small team on how to take out such barriers. Rook spared a sly smile for Harding, and nodded at the crystals. “Whatever’s in there, they don’t want it getting out. Shall we have a competition?”

Harding huffed, but there was a glint in her eyes as she nocked an arrow, “It’s not a competition if I always win.”

The barrier came down quickly, and there was no hesitation as Rook and Harding pushed through the door into the chamber beyond. They were greeted inside by the first group of living Venatori since their arrival. Ever the diplomat, Rook raised a hand in an attempt to placate their advancing enemy, “We don’t have to fight. We’re just here for Lucanis Dellamorte.” Rook spoke with smooth authority, though she knew the Venatori were unlikely to hear reason. She murmured a quick warning to Harding to prepare herself for a fight, and the dwarf reached carefully for her bow as Rook readied her blades.

There was no chance for action on either of their part. The Venatori leader’s chanting was interrupted by a sharp crack, and Rook’s eyes flicked back to a large chunk of crystalized ice magic just as something burst forth. Rook stepped back in alarm, grabbing Harding on instinct, just as a blur of luminescent purple wings tore through two Venatori mages. The wings spun, and Rook registered that they were attached to a man, donning the telltale rich blue leathers of an Antivan Crow. By the time her mind caught up with her eyes, the man had gone still, the entire company of Venatori now nothing more than a pile of gore scattered around him. 

“I’m guessing you’re the reason we’re here.” Rook addressed him with a measured confidence that she didn’t truly feel, but she could sense Harding’s tension like a physical weight beside her. If she wasn’t cautious, this could spiral out of control. If it came down to picking sides, she wouldn’t hesitate to kill him, grandson of the First Talon or not. He turned to face her slowly, the wings receding into nothing, and Rook’s breath caught as their eyes met.

Chapter Text

NOT. VENATORI. Spite’s assessment echoed in Lucanis’ mind even as the demon receded, slinking back into the depths of his psyche now that the fighting appeared to be finished.

A dwarven woman and an elf stood before him, and his eyes lingered on the elf who had spoken to him. She had an air of authority, and while she was smiling at him with practiced charm, he didn’t miss the way she angled herself between him and her companion, a hand hovering near one of the blades at her hip. 

“Who are you? Who sent you?” He asked his questions one after another, unsure which answer mattered more. He hadn’t engaged in anything close to a civil conversation in quite some time, and the uncertainty of the situation set him on edge. 

“My name’s Rook. House De Riva. I’m here to bring you home.” Her smile had dropped slightly as she delivered answers in the straightforward, routine tone of a Crow delivering a report. Spite stirred slightly, but remained blessedly silent. Lucanis relaxed a fraction, and then felt momentarily foolish for the question, as he took in her armor. Simpler than he was used to, but unmistakable. “House De Riva… You’re a Crow.”

The elf, Rook, flashed a toothy grin in response to Lucanis’ slow realization. “You weren’t expecting a rescue, I wasn’t expecting… whatever that was.” The tension had eased a bit, she seemed relieved that he was finally grasping the situation at hand.

“Rook,” the dwarf spoke up for the first time then, through gritted teeth, and Lucanis’ attention was torn back to her. “He’s possessed. By a demon.” She was spoke to Rook with an air of exasperation, but her eyes held affectionate concern.

Determined not to lose the ground he had just gained, Lucanis interjected quickly, “It’s complicated,” and lifted his hands slightly, palms facing outward, in an attempt to placate the suspicious dwarf.

Rook looked back at him again, and he swore he could feel his skin tingle under her cool appraisal. “Caterina promised us a mage-killer if we broke you out of here.” He frowned, Caterina’s name brought forth a rush of complicated emotions, and the implication of Rook’s words settled on him heavily.

“I can still work.” He almost rushed to reassure her, desperate, yet trying very hard not to be. Rook’s eyes softened, just a fraction, “Good. Because I’m pretty sure more Venatori are on their way. We have to get moving.” 

“They have a vial of my blood. They can use it to control me, I cannot leave it in their hands.” Lucanis had made it this far, and he was determined to see how much further he could push his good luck. “And… I had a contract when I was captured. One of my targets is here. Calivan.” He smiled, but there was no joy in it. “You know what that means,” he ignored the dwarf entirely, staring into Rook’s eyes with measured purpose, “Crows don’t break contracts.”

—

Rook felt Harding shift beside her, prickling with irritation, but Lucanis’ words had done the trick. Viago’s lessons ran deep, and she could practically hear his voice in her head, repeating the mantra: Crows don’t break contracts. She sighed heavily, and wondered if this was what Viago had always wanted from her. Blind obedience, unfaltering dedication to the job. The audacity to look your savior in the face and tell them you need more, because there’s a contract on the line. She met Lucanis’ eyes again, and she knew he could feel her answer before she even spoke the words.

“All right, we’ll help.” Harding was glaring at her with all the intensity she could muster, and Rook continued speaking quickly, an attempt to sooth both her friend as well as her own pride. “But in return, I want help killing some things.”

—

Lucanis shifted on his feet again, he resented the implication that he wouldn’t repay this favor. “I’ll owe you.” He said it more forcefully than he intended, and was almost embarrassed when Rook huffed out a short laugh, and responded easily.

“I’m sure we’ll owe each other before this is over.” It was a nice thing to say, an unnecessary kindness. “Let’s go,” she tipped her chin back towards the doorway they had entered through. 

Yes. Good. Spite crooned in the back of his skull, and Lucanis could feel the demon’s satisfaction wash through his chest. Rook turned her back on Lucanis almost immediately. Awfully trusting for a Crow, he mused. The dwarf, however had her eyes trained on him, her mouth set in a hard line. 

“So, first order of business…” Rook was speaking again, and it took Lucanis a moment to register that she was addressing him. He rushed to respond, wanting very badly to seem normal, despite knowing the opposite was true. “Blood first. Then my target, Calivan. The prison warden.”

As they approached the door, he caught an odd look that he couldn’t quite decipher pass between Rook and the dwarf, before Rook clicked her tongue and sighed. “My impolite associate here is Lace Harding, by the way. She’s my… traveling companion.” She finished, awkwardly. The dwarf, Lace Harding, said nothing, only nodded curtly in Lucanis’ general direction.

“Ah, very… nice.” He struggled with what to say, acutely aware of the weight of his intrusion in their company. He had no time to dwell on his feelings, as the air rippled and crackled with familiar malice as they exited the chamber. Venatori mages materialized before them in a haze of red magic. 

“Mages,” Lucanis practically sneered, “My specialty.” There was no hesitation this time, Rook and Harding launched themselves into the fray alongside Lucanis with brutal efficiency. Harding moved faster than Lucanis might have initially given her credit for, firing a volley of arrows from a safe distance with precision and speed that rivaled some of the best snipers he had ever seen. Lucanis could feel the rush of Spite pushing to the forefront of his consciousness, the telltale wings a physical manifestation of his violent intent.

While Harding kept her distance from both Lucanis and the Venatori, Rook fought right alongside him, favoring an up close approach. She was apparently unbothered by Spite’s participation in the fight, and fell into step dodging and weaving between Venatori strikes as well as Lucanis’ own fervent attacks. She had a bow strapped to her back, but clearly favored blades, and there was a familiarity to her fighting style that made her easy to fall in sync with. 

She fights like Viago, the realization hit him as she skewered a frantic mage. Harding called out from behind them, “Nice one, Rook!” And Lucanis caught sight of the cheeky grin that split Rook’s face in response. The last mage fell to his blade, and the cavernous room was suddenly silent, save the slight uptick in their own breathing and the sheathing of their weapons.

Rook’s face was slightly flushed with exertion, and a few strands of hair had fallen into her eyes. She brushed the errant strands behind her ears and smiled at Lucanis, and he was suddenly awe-struck. She’s quite pretty, the realization felt both stupid and poorly timed, but Lucanis found himself smiling tentatively back at her, entirely on instinct. 

Smells sweet, like lavender. Spite’s strange and inappropriate observation shattered the moment, and Lucanis turned from her, lest she catch him blushing. Harding had moved closer by then, and was reaching into a bag at her side. She proffered a pair of green vials, healing potions. She held a bottle out insistently to Rook, “Your left flank, you always leave yourself open there.” Lucanis looked down and noticed the slight tear in Rook’s leathers, and the dark blossom of blood around it.

“Mmhm, but that’s where you come in,” Rook’s tone was light and playful, bordering on flirtatious as she took the offered potion and downed it. “You always take such good care of me.” Harding snorted, whacked Rook’s arm, and placed the remaining potion back in her little bag. 

Lucanis felt the slightest stir of jealousy. There was an easiness between the women, a mutual trust and affection that he had never been able to grasp in his own relationships, and they flaunted it openly. Friendship was a foreign concept, the only thing he could ever rely on was family. Even those relationships had never come easily, often fraught with painful complexities he couldn’t quite unravel or address. As they worked their way through the Ossuary, Lucanis felt a deep longing to be part of their easy banter, conversations borne of a familial closeness he simply did not have.

Two brawls later, Lucanis at least felt he had developed a comfortable rhythm of how to fight effectively alongside Rook and Harding, and found the confidence to try and start up a conversation. “So, you, the two of you,” he stumbled over his words, how embarrassing, but pushed on, “Are.. is Harding the client?” His question hung in the air, lamely. Lucanis didn’t even know why he had asked that, he likely should have considered what he wanted to say before opening his mouth.

Before he could dwell on his foolishness, Rook was laughing. It was good natured, and she giggled without reservation. Harding, for her part, did not laugh, and instead flushed slightly at the suggestion. “I am not the kind of person who hires an assassin.” Harding seemed properly ruffled by the insinuation, while Rook seemed positively delighted. 

“No,” Rook agreed, a sly smile on her lips, “But you are the kind of person who makes friends with them.” Harding rolled her eyes and shook her head, but Lucanis saw some of the tension in her shoulders ease, possibly for the first time since their arrival. Up until that moment, Harding had been quietly but fervently urging Rook to 'reconsider,' after each fight, stealing furtive glances at Lucanis while whispering that 'abominations never end well.' Her whispering was, however, not very quiet, and Lucanis could hear every word.

Rook ignored much of it, occasionally soothing Harding’s concerns by doling out practiced platitudes. He got the feeling this dynamic was well established between them, and was somewhat relieved to be included when Rook made observations or asked questions. Their next set of fights went smoothly, with no further complaint from Harding as to Lucanis’ presence among them. Harding didn’t even comment when Lucanis begrudgingly relayed Spite’s offer of assistance, pulling a makeshift bridge from the Fade to aid their progression.

When they entered the torture chamber, the tension returned with sudden, blinding force. Rook looked grimly around them, moving through the horrors of Calivan’s experiments in heavy silence. 

“These people,” Harding’s voice was soft, wavering slightly, “They were tortured. What a terrible way to die.” Lucanis was struck by the genuine sadness that seemed to settle over the dwarf, her unguarded empathy.

“Few people survive Calivan’s… rehabilitation.” He felt the familiar coiling of Spite within him as he spoke, momentarily unable to disentangle his own desire for vengeance from the demon’s. 

“You did.” Rook’s voice was soft. He met her eyes as she spoke, and felt his breath catch at how she was looking at him. It wasn’t pity, but a reassurance of sorts. You survived this, you will survive what is to come, her eyes seemed to impress upon him. Lucanis said nothing, stunned and slightly unsettled by her apparent sincerity, and they continued about their work destroying barriers in silence. When they found the vial of Lucanis’ blood, Harding blanched at the size of it. “More like a vase than a vial,” she had muttered. Rook stepped forward without hesitation and shattered it, her expression unreadable. 

“Finally,” Lucanis breathed, and he could feel Spite’s pleasure ripple through him the moment the vial broke, like the unfurling of long clenched muscles. “It is done. Now, Calivan.” Rook nodded to him, and met his eyes, resolute and unwavering. For the first time in months, Lucanis felt the flicker of hope ignite within him. He would complete this contract, he would be free from this with her help.

The lift ride was uncomfortable, to say the least. Harding was fidgeting, once again tense and untrusting. The bodies had unsettled her, as had the blood magic. “Rook, are you sure about this?” She frowned up at Rook, her voice pleading.

SO. CLOSE! Spite growled, and he wasn’t sure if the exasperation he felt towards Harding was entirely his own. “You know, I’m standing right here.” He muttered, eyes cast downward. Rook blew out a soft breath.

“It’s fine, we can talk about something else. What’s Caterina like?” Rook bounced on the balls of her feet as she unknowingly changed the subject to the worst possible alternative. 

“I’ve spent so long in this pit, I barely remember.” Lucanis spoke before he could stop himself, and he was almost surprised at his own raw honesty. Nobody said a word in response, and he got the distinct impression that he had made things awkward, again. 

Calivan was waiting for them, and Lucanis felt a strange calm fall over him as they approached. Harding and Rook fell into step at each side of him, it was as if they had planned it this way. It felt natural, and the lingering tension melted away as they stood on the precipice of this final battle. Calivan sneered as they came to a stop, and launched into a tirade of complaints and insults. 

Lucanis glanced at Rook, who looked completely unbothered, almost amused. She met his gaze, and offered one of those smiles she seemed to dole out with such ease, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “So this is Calivan.” She drawled, ignoring the ranting mage almost entirely. Lucanis grinned back, unable to stop himself.

“He is. The target I was sent for a year ago, a Crow never abandons a contract.” He repeated his earlier assertion, and observed a shift in Rook. Her smile faltered, and she turned from Lucanis without a word. Curious. Calivan was silent now, and the battle began with no further fanfare.

Calivan prattled on throughout their fight, waffling between condescension and insults, rage and indifference. Harding and Rook were silent, save the occasional traded instruction or praise. As they wore Calivan down, Lucanis felt the telltale pressure mounting behind his eyes, blood magic. “Watch it, demons!” He barked out the warning just as Calivan vanished, a massive demon appearing in his stead with a host of shades at it’s disposal. 

“Of fucking course its demons.” Rook huffed as she dodged numerous projectiles. The demons seemed to fixate their attacks on Rook, and Harding’s voice became a constant, shouting warnings for incoming blows and firing a litany of arrows past Rook’s left shoulder. The opening she chided Rook about earlier, Lucanis thought. He swung around to that open left flank, his back turned to Rook as he moved in time with her. Spite’s power hummed beneath his skin, guiding every strike. Calivan’s demon howled a final time, a rush of wind nearly knocking Rook off her feet as it crumpled back into the Fade.

Lucanis grabbed her arm on reflex, steadying her as Calivan reappeared, wild eyed and disbelieving. Rook shook him off with a breathless 'thanks,' and then she was on the move again with startling speed, launching herself back at Calivan. 

Harding was beside Lucanis suddenly, pressing a vial into his hand as she moved past, “Don’t get caught up watching Rook, she’ll be fine.” Harding’s voice was kinder than Lucanis had yet heard, and he quickly downed the healing potion, bolstered by her hard-won approval. He tore after Rook, Spite spurring him forward with a powerful beat of his wings.

Calivan couldn’t keep up with both assassins, and even as his magic singed  the edges of Rook’s armor, she kept up with Spite’s fury in an impressive display of endurance. Lucanis still saw those flashes of Viago, in the flair of her parry, the discipline of her form. But the more he fought alongside her, the clearer it became: Rook was in a league entirely her own.

In the end, it was one of Harding’s arrows that struck true. Calivan was unable to deflect it while simultaneously trying to maneuver between the relentless barrage of Lucanis and Rook’s combined strikes. The arrow tore through his right knee, and he went down with a pitiful wail. As he fell, Rook struck him hard in the face with the pommel of her blade, and then stepped back. She was breathing hard, but she jerked her head down at Calivan meaningfully as she said “Yours.”

Lucanis needed no further instruction. He buried his blade in Calivan’s throat, and watched as his eyes went wide, and then dull. Spite’s satisfaction blossomed inside of him, warming him to the tips of his fingers and beating back the impending exhaustion of the fight. Spite materialized physically then for the first time since Lucanis had joined Rook and Harding, a shimmering incorporeal imitation of Lucanis himself. 

Lucanis released a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, and they both looked down at Calivan. “The Crows send their regards.” He murmured the familiar refrain. Rook moved towards him, she had caught her breath by now.

“So, we got your target.” She glanced down at Calivan and back up at Lucanis, expectant. 

“Yes, the job’s done.” His attention was torn from Rook at the sound of Spite’s deep inhalation, followed by his grating words. Smells like blood, ashes. NOT done. NOT YET. 

Rook’s voice came again, softly. She was standing quite close to him, searching his face. “Lucanis, are you alright?” There was a hint of concern in her voice, and for a moment, Lucanis worried that she might reach out and touch him, and touch Spite in the process. His eyes drifted back to Spite, paralyzed for a moment. Could she not see him standing there? “Lucanis, what are you looking at?” Rook asked again, curiosity permeating the lingering concern. 

Careful, they know. We’re NOT RIGHT. Spite’s strange, halting speech roused Lucanis from his thoughts. 

“You cannot see him, I wondered…” Lucanis looked back at Rook, as Spite shifted beside him. Rook leaned back slightly, one hand on her hip as she watched him. Lucanis again felt that strange tingling sensation under her stare, not entirely unpleasant, but wholly unfamiliar. 

“We clearly have things to discuss. Somewhere else.” Rook looked gave a rather pointed glance back towards Harding, who was eyeing the shuddering enchantments of the Ossuary with increasing unease. 

“Agreed. I think… It’s time I got some air.” The weight of the moment settled around the three of them, and Lucanis felt a surge of immense gratitude. Rook and Harding had risked their lives for him, contract and personal reservations aside. He wouldn’t soon forget it.

Chapter Text

They returned to chaos. The interior of the Cantori Diamond was in disarray, destruction and the remnants of blood magic lingering in the air. Harding hung back by the entryway, bow at the ready, while Lucanis and Rook hurried inside. 

“I need to find Viago, he’s-” Lucanis interrupted Rook’s panicked whisper by stepping in front of her, blocking her path forward. She looked up at him, confusion etched across her face. Lucanis was again struck by her openness, she was so quick to trust a fellow Crow she had, by all accounts, only just met. She could have reacted violently, or assumed betrayal, but all she did stare at him expectantly. It was equal parts concerning and endearing, and he marveled briefly at how she had managed to maintain such naive idealism in their line of work. He wondered once more if he was the one who was strange, warped from a year of imprisonment and a lifetime of healthy paranoia, or if she was truly a unique case.

“Take a deep breath. If it’s going to be a fight, we need our heads clear.” He kept his voice low, the Diamond eerily still around them. Rook closed her eyes for a moment and followed Lucanis’ instructions, breathing in deep through her nose, and then out through her mouth. Spite was silent in Lucanis’ head, but he could feel the familiar weight of him at the forefront of his mind, watching. When Rook opened her eyes again, she nodded to Lucanis, notably calmer, and followed his lead.

—

Viago and Teia were almost exactly where Rook had left them, standing amongst the carnage of the Diamond. Relief washed through her like a tidal wave, so overpowering that she almost forgot about Lucanis standing beside her when Viago turned around. Shock replaced his usually stoic countenance, and he regarded Lucanis with a mixture of disbelief and concern.

“What happened here?” Lucanis stepped forward cautiously, his eyes flickering across the mess laid out in front of him, searching for answers. Rook’s hands flew to the blades at her belt when a sharp bang sounded from the back of the room, but she paused when she saw Illario emerge from the shadows, fists still clenched from where he had slammed them against the table.

Rook stepped aside as Illario made his way towards her and Lucanis. The air was charged with something she couldn’t quite place, but she knew proximity to the Dellamortes felt dangerous at that moment. Viago moved forward to meet her as she slid aside. His eyes never left the cousins, and his obvious tension set her on edge. Illario reached for Lucanis as he murmured, “You’re home,” Placing his hand over Lucanis’ heart, as if checking that it was, in fact, still beating.

Lucanis broke away from the moment first, dropping his eyes from Illario and stepping around him. He volleyed questions, expectant and authoritative in a way Rook hadn’t witnessed in the Ossuary. Illario revealed a name, Zara Renata, as the culprit of the destruction. The name stirred a memory in Rook, something Lucanis had mentioned back in the Ossuary. “The woman who runs the prison…?” She hadn’t actually meant to say it out loud, and she felt Viago’s intake of breath behind her, as both cousins turned to look at her.

—

Lucanis nodded in Rook’s direction, she'd been paying attention.

“The Venatori witch who captured me.” Lucanis’ voice was dripping with venom, and he fought hard to keep Spite in check as he turned away. Lucanis had noticed Rook’s sudden distance from him in addition to Viago hovering over her shoulder, intense and guarded. An observation he would have to file away for later, as he moved to the next pressing matter at hand. “Where is Caterina?” Lucanis’ question hung in the air, and his heart sank even further as Teia cast her gaze to the floor. “She’s…”

Viago maneuvered Rook behind him, and stepped forward to place a hand on Teia’s shoulder. “The Venatori got her, in the confusion.” His homecoming became grimmer with each passing moment, and Lucanis was lost within himself, his immense grief at odds with Spite’s rising fury. He barely registered Illario’s voice as his cousin spat words of fury into the room. It was only when Rook spoke again that Lucanis was pulled back into the present.

“Lucanis… I’m so sorry.” He met her eyes then, and for a moment, that same rush of gratitude he had felt in the Ossuary overtook him again. There was a simple honesty to her, none of the bravado or snark he’d seen in her banter with Harding, no hollow platitudes. She meant it, she was sorry, and he held fast to the opportunity she represented like an anchor in a storm.

“I need to work.” He pushed his grief aside, and instead allowed Spite’s whispers of vengeance to steel him. Teia began to protest, followed by Illario, but Lucanis was resolute in this. “Caterina gave me a contract. I’m not breaking the last deal she ever made. And I owe Rook. Once that’s done, I’ll come home.”

Viago was no longer looking at Lucanis, his steely gaze was locked on Rook now, but she didn’t acknowledge him, she was already promising Lucanis’ safe return to Illario. Illario smiled at Rook in a way that Lucanis had seen countless times before, a faux mask of sincerity he reserved for marks and women he hoped to bed. Lucans’ stomach was still turning at the implication even as Illario turned back to him, intent on promises of revenge and glory, when Viago interrupted. 

“We’re under attack. Antaam on one side and now Venatori on the other?” Viago’s voice was slightly raised, an edge in his tone that Lucanis had a sneaking suspicion had more to do with Rook than the Antaam or Venatori. “Forget revenge, we need-” Teia interrupted him, taking the conversation by the reigns and jerking it swiftly back where she wanted it.

“No, Viago. Zara came for us here, in my house. She took Caterina from my house.” Viago had fire in his eyes, but he kept quiet as Teia seethed. “You find her and cut her heart out, Lucanis. Vi and I will hold down the fort.” Lucanis tipped his chin to Teia, “I’ll give her your regards, Teia.” He made his promise to her, a vow he intended to keep. 

—

Viago made his way around the group, gripping Rook firmly by the shoulder as he reached her. “Outside, now.” He released her and headed to the door. Rook’s cheeks burned slightly when Lucanis met her eyes, a question in his gaze. She felt very much like a child about to be chastised in front of her peers, and very little like a grown Crow being summoned by her Talon. She shrugged at Lucanis, and smiled apologetically as she fell into step behind Viago. 

Viago marched out the door past Harding without a word, but Rook paused for a moment when she reached her. “Go ahead and return to the lighthouse, and let the others know Lucanis will be joining us. I’ll follow after with him soon, promise.” Harding reached out and grabbed Rook’s hand as she moved to join Viago. 

“Wait, I… is everything okay? What happened?” Harding fired off questions, and her eyes flickered between Viago and Rook. She lowered her voice and asked,“Are you okay?”

Rook felt a lump form in her throat momentarily, a combination of being touched by Harding’s concern and overwhelmed by the evening’s events. “I’m fine,” she promised Harding, “Everything is fine. I need to speak in private with my Talon though, to give a report before I leave. Lucanis has accepted our contract, but there’s more to discuss back at the lighthouse.”

Harding released her hand, nodding slowly, and searched Rook’s face for signs of distress. When she was satisfied, she sighed and stepped back towards the door. A Fledgeling was waiting dutifully nearby to show her where the Eluvian had been stored within the Diamond. 

Rook followed Viago further onto the terrace, and they walked past a few Crows who had arrived to start repairing the damage left in the wake of the Venatori. Viago motioned for Rook to take a seat on a stone bench at the edge of the balcony, overlooking the tops of Treviso’s many traversable rooftops. A spot chosen purposefully, safely tucked away from listening ears and rival houses.

“You should have refused Lucanis, told him that you were withdrawing the contract.” Viago leaned in close to Rook as he spoke in a soft, urgent tone. “This is dangerous, Rook. This business with Caterina, Lucanis' return? The house of the First Talon is unstable, their Talon murdered, and only two blood heirs remaining. Things are precarious here.”

Rook was stunned into silence, digesting Viago’s words slowly as she mulled them over. Crow politics, Talon successions, and House rivalries would be a threat under normal circumstances, something that she would've prioritized once. But now, with blighted gods freely walking Thedas, Viago's concerns felt trivial. She felt a slight panic at the realization that he wasn't understanding the position she had stumbled into. Viago watched her impatiently, seemingly waiting for her to respond. Lucanis’ earlier advice echoed in her mind, as she struggled to find her voice. Take a deep breath.

Rook took a breath, slowly. In through her nose, and out through her mouth.

“Viago, things are bad. Really, really bad. The Evanuris… the escaped Gods…” She looked Viago directly in his icy eyes, trying to impress upon him how serious she was, how scared. “I need Lucanis in order to finish this. For Harding and Varric-” she isn’t sure why, but her breath catches on Varric’s name, and her eyes are suddenly flooded with tears, “-for the world. If we don’t do this, there won't be Crow houses or Talons to worry about. None of this will matter in the end! There won’t be anything but the Blight and-and-” Rook is unable to continue as a sob chokes her, rendering further speech impossible. 

It was Viago’s turn to sit in stunned silence as Rook cried openly, wiping uselessly at her tear streaked cheeks and sniffling into her hands. “Alright, I understand. Stop crying. Please stop.” Viago’s last words are spoken in a rushed whisper, as he glanced around to ensure they were not being watched. Rook continued to swipe at her eyes as Viago pushed a handkerchief into her hand with a great deal more force than necessary.

“Sorry, Viago.” She mumbled as her tears ceased, and the tightness in her chest eased just slightly.

“It’s fine.” Viago was no longer looking at her, instead examining the tops of his boots. “Give me your report, and you and Lucanis can go… wherever it is that mirror leads.” Rook sniffled once more before she gathered herself. She proceeded to regale Viago with the tale of their time in the Ossuary. Rook included details she'd observed, from Illario insisting they go without him, to the Venatori experiments, and her participation in the fulfillment of the contract on Calivan.

She carefully avoided mentioning Lucanis’ possession as she delivered an otherwise thorough debriefing. I can’t tell him about that, Rook thought, even as her stomach dropped at the idea of keeping something secret from Viago. It felt wrong to hide information she'd gathered about another Crow from her house’s Talon, but it felt more wrong to reveal Lucanis’… condition, without his say-so.

— 

Rook finished her report in under an hour, and Viago was dismissing her just as Lucanis and Illario appeared on the terrace from within the Diamond. Viago and Rook stood up together, meeting the Dellamortes at the stairwell leading inside. Lucanis noticed as Rook drew closer that the rims of her eyes were slightly red, along with the tip of her nose. 

Smells like leather and- Lucanis avoided looking at Spite, visible out of the corner of his eye, as the demon inhaled deeply -TEARS.

“Ready to go?” Rook asked Lucanis, her voice was cheerful and relaxed, and he willfully ignored Spite as he tipped his chin down at her, and simply responded, “Lead the way.”

Chapter Text

Lucanis enjoyed the way the heat of the fire in the hearth warmed his face as he gazed into the flames. It was always cold in the Ossuary. Simple comforts like ambient warmth now felt like luxuries.

He had not enjoyed the reveal that they lived in the fucking fade, the constant itching just behind his eyes since he had arrived, or the conversation currently happening between Rook’s two resident mages, Neve Gallus and Bellara Lutare. The conversation was going in circles, but Lucanis tuned back in as he heard the door to the kitchen open, and the sound of Rook’s footsteps approaching the table.

“…or kill you, or both.” He heard Neve’s words, paraphrasing and repeating what had already been said. 

“But how do you get rid of them?” Lucanis voiced the unsaid question burning between all of them, the topic they kept dancing around.

“What are we all talking about?” Rook’s voice, smooth and confident, as usual. 

“Spite.” Lucanis looked up from the fire for the first time, his eyes finding Rook where she stood between Bellara and Neve.

“The demon in Lucanis,” Neve cocked her head towards Rook, clearly preferring a direct conversation to a more tactful approach. “When a person gets possessed - the demon usually takes control.” Lucanis’ focus wavered from the conversation, as Spite began to pace beside him. Lucanis could feel Spite’s impatience, the calm before a storm. He’d seen enough of the demon’s tantrums by now to recognize the signs in advance. I need to end this conversation. His mind raced as he tried to ignore the demon’s growing agitation. 

“Well, there’s one way. But it’s, well… we’d have to, um…” Bellara stuttered, glancing up at Lucanis, suddenly realizing the sensitive nature of her previous thought. Lucanis granted her mercy, and finished her sentence for her, “You’d have to kill me.” 

A hush followed Lucanis’ statement, and the air remained still just long enough for discomfort to settle in, before Rook broke the silence.

“Well, that’s awkward.”

The mages both turned to look at Rook. Bellara bit her lip and suppressed a nervous giggle while Neve sighed and shook her head.

Lucanis might have laughed at the exchange, had Spite not been consuming all of his focus. In the silence that had followed his and Bellara’s conclusion regarding Spite, the demon had launched himself across the table, and was currently looming behind Neve’s chair, watching Rook with predatory intensity. When Rook made her joking comment, Spite practically crowed with delight.

OH she’s fun. I LIKE her. You’re NEVER fun.

Lucanis turned his face away from Spite as the demon rushed back across the table and stalked towards Lucanis, stopping close enough that he could feel Spite’s phantom breath on his skin as he growled. I want to TALK to HER. Lucanis was almost sweating with the effort of keeping his face neutral amidst Spite’s new, unsettling fixation. Leave Rook out of your antics. He hoped Spite would heed his warning, but he couldn’t address him out loud, not in front of everybody. 

Spite’s head jerked back towards the table as Bellara spoke up again.

“Before we do, well, that. Lets think this through some more. There has to be a solution.” Bellara was an optimist, a quality that made her both likable and frustrating.

“I have people in Minrathous I can ask, but I wouldn’t get my hopes up.” Neve, the pessimist. Equal parts magnetic and dangerous. 

“All right, so what next?” Rook pressed forward with the conversation, leaning forward to rest against Neve’s chair. Spite’s focus returned to Lucanis with renewed ferocity, and Lucanis could feel him yanking on the reins for control as exhaustion crept into his bones.

LET me talk to THEM! I WANT. TO TALK. TO ROOK!

Spite’s screeching grated against Lucanis’ already frayed nerves, and the demon smashed his head into Lucanis’ face in response to his perceived neglect. Lucanis jerked backwards, reaching up to stem the sudden flow of blood from his nose.

The reaction from the rest of the room was instantaneous, chairs scraping backwards as Neve and Bellara rushed to their feet. Rook stepped forward, her brow creased with concern. Lucanis held his hand out, halting the group’s forward momentum with a sharp “No.” His companions froze in place, and Lucanis took a deep breath, steadying himself as he continued, “It’s fine. I’m fine.” He punctuated his words with a wave of his hand, as if he were warding off a pack of wild dogs, rather than his… colleagues? Lucanis didn’t have a proper word yet for the dynamic he had stumbled into when he joined this team. 

“What did he do that for?” Rook asked Lucanis, her voice was stern, but not uncaring. Her eyes wandered as she studied him, flicking from the blood coloring his face and fingers to the air around him, as if she could try to pin the demon down with the sheer force of her gaze.

“Throwing a tantrum when he doesn’t get his way.” Lucanis tried to keep his tone airy, a hollow mimicry of the flippant confidence that Rook seemed to wield with such ease. Neve spoke next, having returned to her seat at the table.

“But he could just take you over, make you do what he wants.” She mused aloud. Lucanis could imagine that some people might be put off by Neve’s forward approach, but he found the honest directness of her words more comforting than offensive. 

“It’s, you know, not great. But kind of good news? In a way?” Bellara wasn’t looking at Lucanis when she spoke, instead shifting between Rook and Neve in an attempt at both providing and receiving some level of reassurance.

“Don’t pretend this is alright. It wouldn’t be fine if another person did it.” Rook was staring at Lucanis fiercely, filled with righteous anger on his behalf. Lucanis’ inner turmoil only intensified at her words. Warmth in response to her concern, guilt at the burden he had brought her in a selfish bid to avoid his grief. 

“No, but there’s nothing I can do about it. If it were another person, I could solve this with a knife.” Lucanis hoped his words could smooth this over, make it clear he didn’t need to be taken care of. This was his problem, and he had no intention of allowing Spite to become a hinderance to the job at hand. He couldn’t. “Just…” Lucanis couldn’t look at Rook anymore, Spite was creeping forward again, drunk on the promise of attention and Lucanis’ growing discomfort. “Give me a minute. He’ll get bored once everyone leaves.” 

“I don’t like leaving you alone with a demon. I…” Rook faltered, and Lucanis risked a glance back at her again. There was a crack in the mask, she looked suddenly tired under the weight of the situation, and Lucanis wondered for the first time how old she was. She looked young and unsure, her eyes soft and shining in the warm glow of the kitchen fire. 

“You don’t have to worry about me.” He attempted reassurance again, careful to ignore Spite’s unnerving cackling.

“Lucanis…” Rook fell silent at a wave of Lucanis’ hand. “Please.” He needed them to leave, he needed time alone to collect himself, to get Spite in check. Bellara got up to leave first, followed by Neve, who placed a gentle hand at Rook’s elbow to pull her along. Rook shrugged her off, not unkindly, and followed them out without looking back.

—

Rook waited several hours before returning to the lighthouse kitchen. She didn’t see Lucanis as she wandered inside, but the pantry door was ajar, and she could hear him shuffling around within.

She made her way over to the pantry noisily, a trait she had picked up in her time with Varric and Harding. After startling both of them by accident on numerous occasions, she had learned that most people who weren’t trained assassins did not appreciate a completely silent approach.

“Kid, you gotta give me a warning when you walk up. Popping up behind me like a spirit is gonna give me a heart attack one of these days.” Varric had teased her at the time. And so the new habit had formed, in stark opposition to years of carefully practiced silence.

As Rook entered the pantry, she was surprised to see that Lucanis had been hard at work. Their stores of food had been entirely reorganized and sorted into neat piles against the walls. He'd lit several candles, and seemed to have crafted a sort of cot at the far end of the pantry. Is he going to sleep in here? Rook glanced around, incredulous. Weird, but okay. She knew he had heard her, and he turned from adjusting his makeshift-bedsheets as she moved further into the small space with him. “You asked for time,” Rook tried hard to appear casual, and not at all weirded out by him living in the pantry, “Is this long enough?”

“Yes, my head’s clearer.” Lucanis was visibly more relaxed, and the corners of his eyes crinkled as he offered her the first genuine smile she had seen from him yet. “Though I would kill for a decent cup of coffee.”

“Have you? For coffee, I mean.” Rook leaned into the light conversation, disarmed by his smile and the familiarity that came with being in the presence of a fellow Crow, separate houses aside.

Viago’s tight worry and cautionary words were all but forgotten as Lucanis’ eyes twinkled with mirth. “Not today.” His voice was low and playful, matching Rook’s energy as if he’d already known her for years. His eyes slipped from her face, and he appraised her openly. He studied her from her chest all the way down to her boots, and she knew she was blushing by the time his eyes met hers again. “You’ve got questions, you might as well ask them.” Exactly the invitation she had been waiting for.

Rook leaned against the wall, thoughtful for a moment. She did have questions, a veritable pile of them. But, she wasn’t sure how far Lucanis’ trust would stretch, she needed to choose her next words carefully. Gain trust by giving it, she thought, and she dropped any pretense of false confidence.

“It’s… not a question necessarily. But, I thought you should know, I…” She faltered for a moment, but pushed through. “I didn’t mention your possession. When I gave my report to Viago, I mean. I didn’t tell him.” She dropped her eyes then, unable to maintain her focus on him. She felt as though she were telling  a stranger about a terrible crime, as though Lucanis might tattle on her, or Viago would somehow hear her confession echoing back to him through the fade. 

“That’s…” Lucanis’ voice pulled her attention back up from the floor. “I don’t know what to say. I appreciate it, immensely.” Lucanis looked tired at that moment. “But, I would never expect you to lie to your Talon for me, you should know. I don’t want to put you in… I don’t want to make things more difficult for you.” Lucanis had stepped forward as he spoke, leaning against the wall beside Rook. The physical closeness mirrored the strange intimacy that had settled between them, the inevitable result of shared vulnerability.

He understood the enormity of this revelation, of course he did. The implications of omitting such information from her Talon might have been lost on anybody else on the team, but Lucanis was a fellow Crow. More than that, he was the grandson of the First Talon. While she was sure his experience within the Crows had been different to hers in many respects, Rook was also certain he bore the similar weight of loyalty to one’s house, above all else.

But the current situation called for more. The looming threat of the Evanuris demanded more than simple cooperation, she needed a team that she could rely on to do the hard thing, to make the right calls under enormous pressure. She needed a level of trust, faith even, that the usual etiquette of Crow politics simply wouldn’t allow.

Rook pushed forward with her questions. “I know Caterina volunteered you to work with us. Are you okay with that?” She wanted, no, needed his honesty. She was risking her position in the Crows, her relationship with Viago, and potentially the fate of the world. The least he could do is convince me I’m making the right call.

To her surprise, Lucanis let out a low chuckle, shifting closer as he responded. “Did Viago ever consult with you before sending you on a contract?” 

It was Rook’s turn to laugh, perhaps being the First Talon’s grandson hadn’t made his experience so different after all.

“Viago would barely tell me what the job was beforehand.” Lucanis let out a hm of acknowledgement as she spoke. “But, I’m not the Demon of Vyrantium.” Lucanis scoffed a bit when she used his moniker, but his eyes were soft and free of any displeasure.

“Caterina was First Talon.” A hint of bitterness, on the was, Rook noted. “You don’t refuse a contract from the First Talon. Not if you’re smart.” Lucanis was speaking freely now, earnest and comfortable in the moment Rook had cultivated for them. “But, there’s plenty of reason for me to help you beyond that, Rook.” She nearly sighed at her name on his lips, catching herself even as she flushed.

“Such as…?” She pressed for more, determined to push this opportunity as far as she could. 

“I owe you a debt, for one.” Lucanis turned his face away from Rook, eyes momentarily distant as he seemed to be ruminating on their escape from the Ossuary. When his eyes met hers again, there was a fiery determination there that almost startled her. “And after a year in that hole, maybe I’m looking forward to stabbing a god or two in the back.”

There it is. Rook latched on to his words immediately. That’s the mentality we need to win this. A smile split her features, relief rushing through her, easing an anxiety she hadn’t fully recognized she was carrying until it was gone.

“Good,” she practically sighed her response. “Then, I propose an alliance, of sorts. Obviously, you’re already here on the team, you’ve taken the contract. But I know that you have more going on. The situation with Spite, Caterina’s death, tracking down Zara Renata.” She held Lucanis’ eyes as he listened to her with keen focus. “I’ll help you however I can, whatever you need. I won’t say a word to Viago, or anybody for that matter, without your say-so. You don’t need to worry about me sharing anything to do with Dellamorte affairs. In return…” She thought for a moment, searching for the right words. “I just need to know I can rely on you, that we can see this thing with the risen gods through to the end. I won’t be able to lead the team through this if you and I are worrying about breaching house loyalties the entire time.”

Lucanis was silent for a moment, his eyes never leaving her face. And then he nodded, slowly, the hint of a smile on his lips. “I get it.” He finally spoke, stretching as he pushed himself off of their shared wall. “Some might question the wisdom of making a deal with a demon,” he moved to sit on his cot, motioning with a hand for Rook to sit beside him. “But, we do what we must to survive. You have my word, Rook. We fight the gods together, whatever that requires. Crow business won’t be an issue between the two of us. But, I’ll hold you to your end of the bargain. As you once said, I'll need your help killing some things.” His tone was light, but his eyes held the weight of a promise. 

Rook nodded, satisfied with their arrangement. She moved to sit beside Lucanis on the cot, leaning away from him slightly to better read his face in the low light of the pantry. “Alright, then. On to other things.”

Chapter Text

Rook was an enigma. When she arrived in the pantry, Lucanis had expected… very little. An obligatory check in, after the incident with Spite in the kitchen. The alone time she allotted him had done the trick. Time, combined with the monotonous task of organizing their food stores and settling himself in, had bored Spite enough for the demon to recede. Spite didn't sleep, not in the traditional sense that Lucanis could tell, but he did seem to occasionally enter an almost meditative quiet, especially right after a tantrum.

Lucanis was feeling almost refreshed, despite his lack of real rest, when he heard Rook traipsing through the kitchen toward the pantry door. She was comically loud and entirely un-Crow-like in her approach, and Lucanis almost laughed as she practically stomped into his newly-organized living quarters.

Their conversation had started off well, and Lucanis was feeling unusually confident without the audience of Rook’s team present. They exchanged pleasant banter, and he made no attempt to disguise it as he drank in Rook’s appearance, taking note of all the little details about her he hadn’t yet had the opportunity to map. A rush of pleasure ran through him when he saw the flush in her cheeks as he met her eyes again, and he felt like he had gained the upper hand for the first time since their initial chaotic meeting. The feeling didn’t last, Rook defied predictability.

The revelation that she had kept the knowledge of Lucanis’ possession from Viago had him reeling. It was a massive risk, a gamble he would have never expected or asked her to take for him. She had knowingly provided Lucanis an opportunity to hold his cards much closer to his chest as the balance of power shifted amongst the Crows. He had rushed to ease her obvious anxiety over the confession, unable to properly express his gratitude in the aftermath of his surprise.

He felt inexplicably drawn ever closer to her with every meeting, a gravitational pull that affected him in body and spirit. There were no masks in place as they spoke, only a comfortable give and take as Rook explained her plan and made her proposition. Her offer of help was entirely too generous, made in exchange for the selfless goal of stopping the end of the world. But, Lucanis accepted greedily. He was in no position to refuse her assistance, and he would be lying if he said the prospect of her continued proximity didn’t thrill him.

Spite had chosen to remain uncharacteristically well-behaved as they conversed, but Lucanis could feel the weight of the demon’s presence in his mind, and the familiar warmth of Spite’s pleasure pressed up against his own. As Rook moved to sit beside him on the cot, Spite’s voice drifted through his thoughts like smoke in the air. A good deal, tipped in OUR favor. Lucanis had no time to ponder the demon’s motives, pushing him into the deeper reaches of his mind as he refocused.

“Alright, then. On to other things.” Rook settled herself back on the cot, the picture of comfort and ease. She asked him how he had ended up in the Ossuary then, openly curious. Lucanis got the feeling that Rook enjoyed a good story, and she listened thoughtfully as he relayed the circumstances of his unfortunate capture.

“Caterina was wise to suspect an inside job, by the sound of things.” Rook murmured, almost to herself, as Lucanis finished his story. She’s already planning our next move. Lucanis felt a pang of guilt at Rook’s easily won loyalty. Her soft heart would be easy to take advantage of, under the right circumstances. The memory of Harding’s defensiveness was starting to make a great deal more sense.

“You haven’t asked about Spite.” Lucanis prompted Rook, desperate to draw her attention back to the danger, to provide her the opportunity raise her guard against him.

She studied him carefully as she spoke. “From what I’ve seen, I’d say he picked the right name.” Lucanis snorted, leaning his head back against the wall.

“He’s stronger when I sleep. So…” He glanced down at the cot they were resting on, “I try not to do it much.” Rook nodded solemnly.

“I see. I don’t get a great deal of sleep myself these days, ever since…” Rook trailed off then, as if unsure where she had meant for her sentence to go. She shook her head slightly, and started again. “Well, if you ever need company. You know, other than Spite.” She smiled wryly, and Lucanis could feel Spite purring as Rook said his name. 

“No one was in the Ossuary by choice. Not even the demons.” Lucanis suppressed the rising memories of his imprisonment, and even the demon shuddered within him. “We both did what we had to, to get out of there.” Rook was silent for long enough that Lucanis turned to look at her again, worried he’d said something wrong.

She was studying him, her face set in quiet contemplation. When she spoke again, her voice was so soft that Lucanis found himself leaning in, so as not to miss what she had to say. “I admire you.”

Whatever Lucanis expected, he was fully unprepared for that. His breathing quickened, watching for signs of deception or manipulation. He found nothing, Rook’s expression was relaxed and earnest. “What you’ve been through would break most people.” 

“I would not give Zara the satisfaction.” Lucanis tried to claw back some emotional distance, Rook was approaching something delicate inside of him, something he wasn’t confident wouldn't break on contact.

“Mm, still…” Rook’s was still speaking in that soft voice, melting Lucanis’ resolve with each word, her eyes locked on his. “You must be a very courageous man.” She had him rooted to the spot, hanging on her every word. This was dangerous, he had to pull back, regain some semblance of control. He leaned away, even as Spite hissed in protest.

“A very stubborn one, perhaps. But that’s…” Lucanis responded quickly before catching her eyes again, and he softened once more. “… Kind of you to say.” He sighed, Spite was enjoying this far too much. The demon was practically vibrating under his skin, drinking Rook’s attention in as his own, greedily lapping up the praise. Very COURAGEOUS, the both of us. Spite was crooning, his words tangling amongst Lucanis’ thoughts.

“Leave Spite to me,” Lucanis spoke forcefully, drowning out the demon’s influence by sheer will. “If he’s trapped in this world, he has good reason to fight for it.” Yes. YES. Good. Spite was pressing forward, he had reached the limit of his good behavior and was eager to insert himself once more. “For now,” Lucanis stood up from the cot as he spoke, stretching and rolling his shoulders, “I must honor our contract. Gods, magic, politics… Hmm. Things are going to get very bloody.”

Rook groaned behind him, and the sound of it sent chills down Lucanis’ spine. “You may be right, but if Viago asks, let's undersell the bloodiness a bit.” Rook’s voice turned slightly bitter on Viago’s name, and Lucanis felt his throat burn with unspoken questions. She got up and glanced back towards the pantry door. “Speaking of… pretty sure Harding is still upset about that whole situation, I need to go smooth that over.” She might have been talking to herself, but Lucanis seized upon the opportunity.

“I meant to ask before,” Lucanis spoke up again before Rook could escape him, “You looked… upset. After you spoke with Viago, back at the Diamond.” Lucanis tried to keep his voice casual. Rook smiled at him, one of those easy grins that didn’t reach her eyes.

“Was there a question in there, or just an observation?” She side-stepped around Lucanis, both figuratively and literally, and he got the distinct impression that this was a common tactic for her. He’d seen her wield this strategy with Harding back in the Ossuary. Quick to let her guard down to solve somebody else’s woes, but loathe to address her own. Unfortunately for her, Lucanis wasn’t one to back down from a challenge when it presented itself.

“Spite thought you had been crying,” he doubled down, emboldened by the rapport they had just built. Rook practically squirmed under his directness, the power dynamic tilting once again in Lucanis’ favor. “Is there… something I can do?” Lucanis shifted on his feet, trying hard to match Rook’s earlier sincerity with his own. 

“What, you don’t usually cry when you deliver your reports?” Rook made a half-hearted attempt at further teasing, but the set of her shoulders indicated defeat, and she sighed after a beat of silence. “Viago is… Viago.” Lucanis nodded, crossing his arms over his chest. “He just doesn’t get it. I don’t think he  really understands what’s at stake here, or why I need to do this. Varric-“ Rook froze for a moment, and the air seemed to crackle around them. “Varric needs me to do this. I won’t let him down again.” Rook’s eyes flickered towards the door again, like a wild animal preparing to run. “But… no. There’s nothing you can do. That was kind though,” she offered another unconvincing smile, “I appreciate the offer.”

The conversation was over, that much was clear. Lucanis nodded once, feeling like he had somehow hurt her in his clumsy attempt at kindness. “Well, you know where to find me.” He said, trying to lighten the heavy mood that had descended around them.

“Right,” Rook nodded back to him, looking around as she made her way to the door. Almost too quiet for Lucanis to catch, he heard her mutter “In the pantry.”

—

Rook made her way across the lighthouse courtyard slowly, mulling over her chat with Lucanis as she ambled toward’s Harding’s greenhouse. He was a difficult man to pin down, flirtatious and playful one minute, stoic and awkward the next. Rook usually trusted her gut when it came to people, and Lucanis felt trustworthy, but he also felt unpredictable. There was an intensity about him that caught her off guard, and she couldn’t help but wonder if he had always been like that, or if the Ossuary and Spite played a role.

As she reached Harding’s greenhouse, she rapped her knuckles against the door, but pushed it open without waiting for a response. Harding was crouched in the dirt, fussing over the small collection of plants that had begun to rapidly grow. She looked up at Rook and sat back on her heels, a familiar scowl crossing her features.

“Took you long enough.” Harding brushed her hands against her patchwork pants, leaving smears of soil on her thighs. Rook flopped into the chair next to Harding’s sleeping bag, mumbling a halfhearted ‘sorry’ as she went. Harding stood up and made her way over to Rook, settling on her sleeping bag with a sigh. They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes, and Rook had nearly started to doze off when Harding spoke again. “Are we gonna… talk about what happened in Treviso? And the whole Lucanis? Thing?” 

Rook closed her eyes and ran her fingers back through her hair, wanting nothing more than to take a nap. But, she owed Harding answers, she had been plenty patient. “Yeah… yeah I guess. Ugh, I don’t know where to begin.”

—

Harding settled back on her hands. She had learned to be patient with Rook, knew exactly when to push and when to pull back.

In battle, Rook liked to rush ahead, relying on her companions to watch her blind spots and pull her out of the fray if she got in over her head. Harding had thought she was reckless when they first met, and questioned Varric’s choice to recruit her. She had learned quickly that she was dead wrong. Rook took risks, that much couldn’t be denied, but they were almost always calculated. And when it came to her friends, Rook was the furthest thing from reckless. If anything, she was overly cautious, planning for every possible outcome.

Harding had never been so happy to be wrong about somebody, truth be told. Even after the loss of Varric, Rook held it together, held the team together. Harding had all but fallen apart at first, but Rook pulled her back from the brink. She checked in on her regularly, but it was more than that. Rook paid attention to everything, remembered small details and things said in passing months after the fact. It was part of what made her brilliant, juggling people and problems with a natural-born ease. She had taken the manifestation of Harding’s magic in stride, assuring her that it was a gift, not a burden. She gave all of herself in everything she did, and expected the people around her to do the same.

Even so, Rook wasn’t perfect, nobody could be. Harding feared that Rook’s naïveté would lead her to ruin eventually, and the people around her would be caught in the blast radius. Rook was enraptured by Varric during their travels across Thedas. She hung on his every word as he spun stories by the fire, and chased after his approval with a fervency that bordered on desperation. She’d barely even said his name since Solas’ ritual, and Harding worried that Rook’s judgement was impaired by unprocessed grief, as she filled the lighthouse with people that could never replace what they had already lost. 

It was this careful understanding of Rook, cultivated over nearly a year in her shared company, that Harding relied upon in moments like this. She knew how to read Rook’s mood and apply pressure in the right places. Rook could be evasive and difficult to navigate, but Harding was an experienced scout. 

“Why don’t we start with what happened in the Diamond. Viago seemed angry at you when you walked out. Or is that just his face? It also seemed like it could be his face.” Harding gently guided Rook in the direction she needed her to go, slipping in some levity to avoid scaring her off.

Rook nodded at Harding and brought her knees up to her chest as she settled deeper into her chair. “The answer is both. He was pissed at me, but that’s also his face.” Rook rested her cheek on one knee, and reached down to fiddle with her boot. She filled Harding in on the details of everything that had gone down in the Diamond, and Viago’s strange behavior. “He acts like I should be able to read his mind. He’s always telling me to think, to use my head, but then he berates me when I do. I don’t believe he really does want me to think, he wants me to obey.” Rook’s frustration was evident in her words, as well as in the way she worried the strap of her boot between her fingers as she talked. 

“And Lucanis…” Rook trailed off, catching her bottom lip between her teeth as her brow creased. Harding knew that look too, and remained purposefully silent while Rook gathered her thoughts. “I’m not really sure. I want to trust him, I do trust him. But I need more time to sort him out. It’s not like with Bellara and Neve, they’re both so straightforward. What I do know is that we need him.” Rook met Harding’s eyes for the first time since she had started talking. “I know how you feel about the Crows, and I get it, I do. But you know me, you moved past it with me. We aren’t going to be able to beat these gods without making some concessions, taking some risks.” 

Harding weighed her words before she spoke, choosing them carefully. “Rook… You know I’ll follow whatever you decide to do. Any calls you make, I’ll back them, always. I just need you to promise me,” Harding reached out for Rook’s hand, stilling her twitching fingers where she still fidgeted with the leather strap, “…That you’ll look before you leap.” It was all Harding could ask, all she could hope for. Rook looked at Harding’s hand where it rested against her own.

Rook’s eyes rose slowly, traversing Harding’s face, a familiar habit. Harding had asked her about it once, and Rook had teased that she was trying to count her freckles. Now, Harding felt her eyes lingering over the nearly healed bruises, the only visible reminder of the losses they bore from Solas’ ritual.

“I understand.” Rook's voice was soft, her words simple. It was more than Harding had hoped for, an overall success. She dropped her hand from Rook’s, satisfied for the time being.

Chapter Text

The days following Lucanis’ arrival were initially tense. Nobody was quite sure how to handle living with an abomination, and Rook seemed to be the only one among them free of any strong reservations. Lucanis, however, was a difficult man to dislike, and he garnered approval amongst the team quickly with his easy humor and excellent cooking. The only one still maintaining some distance was Harding, but Rook was confident she would warm to him with time. She also suspected that Harding’s caution had less to do with a dislike of Lucanis, and more to do with a desire to protect Rook, a sentiment she could never fault her for. Rook thought Lucanis had ultimately taken to life in the lighthouse quite well, and his work on missions spoke for itself.

Rook generally considered herself to be adaptable in combat, swapping tactics and adjusting her approach based on who she brought with her. Fighting with Lucanis, however, was as simple as breathing. He balanced dealing damage and providing support with an ease that could only come from years of practical experience in the field. She rarely had to worry about him at all, instead trusting that he would fall in line and simply be where she needed him. This natural synchrony allowed her to place heavier emphasis on the fight in front of her, cutting down foes with brutal precision. Rook quickly developed a preference for Lucanis’ participation on missions, for both his company and his prowess in a fight.

She was on her way to Lucanis’ pantry after their most recent trip to Minrathous, when he surprised her by appearing in the kitchen doorway as she opened it. “Oh!” Rook almost ran directly into him, just barely catching herself and sidestepping into the kitchen instead. 

“Sorry, Rook. I was just coming to find you, actually.” He closed the door again now that Rook was inside, and moved to sit at the table. She followed his lead, plopping herself into a chair beside him. Lucanis pulled a neatly folded piece of parchment from his pocket, placing it gingerly on the table in front of them. “Illario sent word, he’s got intel on Zara.” Zara’s name caught Rook’s attention immediately, and she straightened in her seat. “He wants to meet up,” He leaned forward, one elbow resting on his knee, the other hand sliding Illario’s letter across the table to her. “Fancy a trip to Treviso?”

Rook took the letter and skimmed it. There was nothing useful, other than the invitation to meet. Smart, as far as Crow correspondence went, but incredibly  frustrating for her. She was a sponge for information, she collected and stored knowledge from the world around her almost obsessively. It was a trait that Viago valued and cultivated during her training. Her detailed reports and keen eye had served House De Riva well during her time as a Crow. When the Antaam occupation began, Rook garnered a reputation for information gathering, in addition to her technical skills as an assassin. She had a knack for observation, as well as a natural charisma that consistently disarmed her marks.

She sighed as she slid the paper back across the table to Lucanis, committing the words to memory despite having found nothing she could use. “Sounds like fun.” She gave Lucanis her answer, which she was certain he already knew. He had held up his end of their bargain so far, and now it was Rook’s turn to follow his lead.

—

Lucanis and Rook made their way to the eluvian together after gearing up, stopping once along the way to alert Harding to where they were going. Harding told Rook to be careful, and told Lucanis to ‘watch himself,’ as she so often did, and they continued on their way to the Crossroads.

Lucanis no longer took Harding’s passive hostility personally. In his short time with the team, he had come to realize that Rook’s relationship with Harding was different than it was with Bellara or Neve. She shared a friendly closeness with everyone, but there was an undercurrent of something deeper between Rook and Harding. A shared weight of some kind, the type of bond that could be seen just as easily as it could be felt.

He was certain their shared friendship with Varric Tethras must have played a part. He had learned of the events leading up to and following the Dread Wolf’s ritual from Neve and Bellara, primarily.

When Neve told him about Varric, she had lowered her voice. “It was pretty rough on Harding, and I think it’s been hard on Rook too.” She glanced at the door to the kitchen, as if confirming neither of them had suddenly appeared. “You know, Harding was a lot more open about it. She seems like she’s working through it, in her own way. But Rook…” Neve sighed. “I didn’t know her before the ritual. So I don’t know what she’s usually like, but she won’t even talk about it. It’s… strange. Feels wrong, somehow.” Neve was frowning as she spoke, her eyes cast to the side, as she did when she was trying to work through a problem.

Lucanis had listened intently, eager to hear anything about Rook. Another piece to the puzzle. He was lost in thought for a moment, and he could feel Spite listening to him as he mulled over the new information. “Rook is a Crow.” He started slowly, talking partially to himself, partially to Spite, and partially to Neve. “We deal in death. We see a lot of it, that’s the job. Not just the marks, but… acquaintances, too.” Lucanis took a long drink of his coffee before continuing. “Maybe, this contract, killing these gods… maybe that’s how she’s dealing with it. Actions, not words.” VENGEANCE for Rook TOO. Spite bristled within him.

Neve had simply hummed and tapped her fingers against the table, apparently lost in thought.

He was torn from his thoughts as the Caretaker docked their boat, and he and Rook both stood up. He stepped out onto the dock, and extended a hand out to help Rook, a potentially transparent excuse to touch her. She took his hand and hopped out onto the dock, releasing him immediately as she stepped ashore. The two of them chatted as they made their way to Treviso’s eluvian, weaving through the spirit market.

“So, I think that if and when you tell the Talons about Spite, you should let me tell Viago. He’ll take it better from me than you.” Rook spoke to Lucanis softly. Even in the relative safety of the Crossroads, it was habit to be cautious when discussing Crow business. Lucanis nodded slightly, he agreed with her approach. 

“Probably right. Or, we can do it together. That might be an even better option.” He spoke his thoughts aloud as they exited the crowds of spirits, and a still silence fell over them as they navigated towards the eluvian.

Much BETTER. TOGETHER. Spite spoke enthusiastically to Lucanis, and materialized to walk alongside Rook, sandwiching her between the two of them. Lucanis ignored him while the demon snarled and grumbled under his phantom breath. He spoke up again as they neared the eluvian. “Let’s just keep Spite between us, for now.” Rook nodded to him, “That works for me,” and stepped through the mirror.

—

It was a warm evening in Treviso, and a light breeze ruffled Rook’s hair as she stepped out onto one of the Cantori Diamond’s balconies. Lucanis followed closely behind her, and immediately commented, “Good weather tonight.” 

“Very,” Rook agreed with him, “Ready to head to the cafe?” Lucanis shook his head, leading her through the Diamond and out onto the next terrace. 

“Not quite.” He ignored the question in her eyes, instead motioning her ahead of him to the zipline. When they landed, she followed him across the rooftop. “I thought we might do a bit of shopping together before we meet up with Illario.” Lucanis commented casually as they reached the streets of Treviso.

“Oh, that sounds nice actually.” She hadn’t actually gone to the markets to shop since her return. As they made their way through Treviso's bustling nightlife, Lucanis stopped first at a stall filled with a variety of potted plants. “For Harding,” he explained. Rook was delighted by this, and eagerly informed him which plant she thought Harding would like the best (spearmint, they had both agreed). He bought it, and the merchant placed it carefully in a little cloth bag, which Lucanis slipped over one arm.

“Just so you know, bribery definitely works with Harding. She’ll love the plant.” She teased him as they made their way through the markets, Lucanis scanning for something specific.

He smiled at that, and fired back, “Good, that was the plan.” He slowed down again as they neared a fish monger’s stand. He looked over the selection carefully, eventually settling on a fish that Rook was completely unfamiliar with. “Bellara mentioned a Dalish seafood recipe she wants to make.”

She brightened as she remembered discussing another meal with Bellara the day prior. “Yes, she also wanted us to look for cinnamon.”

Lucanis nodded, “I believe we will have better luck finding it for sale in bulk at Cafe Pietra.” Rook let Lucanis continue leading her around the market, pausing briefly to glance in the occasional stall. Finally, he came to a stop at a fruit stall, and chatted aloud to Rook, “Fresh fruit. Neve only eats fried fish.” He finished appraising the fruits, and bagged his chosen selection. “You’d think a detective would have discovered scurvy by now.” Lucanis continued as they paid and made their way to the edge of the market.

Rook laughed at his remark, shaking her head as she did. The corners of his eyes crinkled when he smiled at her, and her heart constricted slightly. She looked out over the market, a smile still lingering on her lips. Lucanis was talkative tonight, he was in one of those moods that she had learned meant Spite was behaving. 

“I once spent four hours in the Market while Illario searched for the perfect pair of silk gloves.” His voice was low beside her, and she turned back to watch as he spoke. “Illario has always been fussy,” Lucanis smiled around Illario’s name, Rook noticed, “And, he wanted to impress a woman.” He shook his head. 

—

“So, you and Illario are cousins?” Rook asked as they strolled along the edges of the market. Lucanis nodded.

“Yes, but we’re more like brothers.” He paused for a moment, searching for the words. “Caterina took us both in… a long time ago now.” Lucanis didn’t often think back on his childhood, an overall unpleasant experience. But he had Illario through it all, his one constant in life. He spent a great deal of time in the Ossuary thinking about Illario, worrying about him. Illario was far from perfect, but he was all Lucanis had. And. Now ROOK. Spite responded to Lucanis’ thoughts with his own, before slinking back out of sight. Still behaving for now. He glanced over at Rook, who had left him to his thoughts for the most part, and appeared to be finishing a purchase at a nearby stall.

She turned back to him and held out her hand, a blade in her palm. “You can’t buy something for everyone but yourself. Here, this is for you.” He stared at the blade for a moment, then took it gingerly from Rook’s fingers, as if it might break.

“A wyvern tooth dagger?” Lucanis murmured as he turned it over in his hand. “I loved wyverns as a boy. Caterina would never let me have one of these, though.” He still loved wyverns, in truth. He had long wanted to see one, a frivolous goal he hadn’t thought about for some time. When he tore his eyes away from the dagger to look back at Rook, she was watching him intently.

“I’m glad you like it,” Rook smiled as she spoke, “I saw you reading a book about wyverns the other day, it seemed like something you might enjoy.” He looked her over, amused and impressed at the same time.

“You were watching me?” Lucanis raised an eyebrow as he teased her, and was rewarded with her immediate blush. She snorted, looking away, and Lucanis laughed as he steered her towards Cafe Pietra.

Chapter Text

Illario was already seated at a table when Rook and Lucanis walked through the doors of Cafe Pietra. He rose from his chair as they approached, and to Rook’s horror, pulled her into a hug. "Finally,” Illario addressed Lucanis, his breath ghosting past Rook’s ear as he embraced her. She froze, unsettled yet unsure how to respond. “I thought you might leave me here all by my lonesome.” When he released her, she forced a polite smile, catching sight of Lucanis’ glare as she did so. At least I’m not the only one who thought that was weird.

Lucanis pulled out the chair across from Illario, and motioned for Rook to take a seat. He settled himself in the third seat, between the two of them. He inhaled deeply as he sat. “Please. You think I’d ever pass up Cafe Pietra’s coffee?” Lucanis looked relaxed with his cousin, but Rook could feel the subtle tension between them.

“You see, Rook?” Illario was still focused on her, his gaze predatory. “My cousin is all stomach, and no heart.” Before Rook could respond, Lucanis’ leg nudged hers under the table, and she caught his eye. 

“Don’t mind him,” Lucanis’ tone was still light, but his eyes were serious when he looked at her, “Illario cannot appreciate anything but himself.” Rook was unsure what to say, as Lucanis tossed a smirk at his cousin. She felt rather strongly that she'd stumbled into the middle of something she didn't fully understand.

Illario backed down, rolling his eyes as he scanned the cafe. Apparently satisfied, Lucanis leaned against the table. “They serve a specialty roast here: Andoral’s breath.” Lucanis was speaking lowly to Rook, and something in his demeanor reminded her of their conversation in the pantry. “Bitter and sweet,” Lucanis continued, lowering his eyes to her lips. “Like a kiss goodbye.” She was transfixed by him, and he met her eyes again with a  soft smile. “You should try it.”

“Bitter is good, chocolate is better.” Rook broke her eye contact with Lucanis, and scanned the cafe, just as Illario had done earlier. She couldn’t help but think Viago would be angry if he saw her having coffee with one of the Dellamortes, much less both.

“They have cioccolata calda,” Lucanis was still watching Rook, “It was my favorite drink… as a child.” Rook laughed a bit at the way Lucanis paused before finishing.

“You’re making fun of me,” She accused him through a grin, and Lucanis’ eyes twinkled with mirth. “But, I love cioccolata calda.” Lucanis laughed then, warm and low, and Rook’s stomach flipped.

“So…” Rook lowered her voice slightly, “Have we done enough ‘three crows in a coffee shop chatting about nothing’ to bore the spies?”

Illario tipped his chin down, a subtle affirmation. “Just about. The most persistent one gave up when Lucanis started getting all romantic about roasts.” 

Illario crossed his arms as he looked at Lucanis, and some of the tension seemed to ease when he spoke. Lucanis raised both hands in mock apology, and simply countered “It’s a very good roast.” Rook kept quiet, ready for Illario to reveal his information. Lucanis seemed to sense this, and he turned to Illario. “So. You have something?”

—

“The Crows I sent after Zara have picked up her trail.” Lucanis felt Rook go very still in her seat beside him, her focus narrowing on Illario. “They say she’s gone to Vyrantium.” Illario delivered his intel with smooth confidence.

Rook spoke up before Lucanis had the chance. “If she was here in Treviso to kill Caterina, she can’t be in Vyrantium already.” 

Lucanis once again found himself impressed with her, she was sharper than she let on, and he was quickly understanding why Viago favored her. “Rook’s right,” Lucanis said, smiling at her. “Zara’s given you a false lead, cousin.” He found Illario’s eyes again, and his cousin scowled deeply.

“You have better information?” Illario challenged him, and Lucanis let out a frustrated breath at his familiar foolishness. Illario had been like this as long as Lucanis could remember; addicted to instant gratification, his impatience blinding him to small details and potential pitfalls. 

“We’re compromised,” Lucanis explained to Illario, “There’s no other way Zara could even touch Caterina. You need your eyes here. In Antiva.” Rook was listening to them argue in silence, her eyes never leaving Illario.

“Zara would never be foolish enough to stay,” Illario hissed, his eyes bright and stubborn. “Not with you out for blood.”

Lucanis felt his temper flare, and he struggled to remain calm as Spite coiled tightly inside him. “Of course she would, if the Crows protecting her are here.” Lucanis fought hard to keep his tone even. He needed Illario to understand, to use his head for once instead of latching on to the first easy answer.

“Rook, reason with him, would you?” Illario pulled Rook back into the conversation, his voice dripping with calculated charm. “He’s being paranoid.”

Lucanis’ patience had worn thin, and he snapped at Illario before Rook could intervene. “I am not paranoid! She came after me. She came after Caterina.” Lucanis resisted the urge to grab Illario by the shoulders and shake him. “She will come for you too.” Worry and anger warred for dominance in Lucanis, the exhausting and near constant struggle of dealing with Illario.

“If it’ll make you feel better, I’ll clean house, alright?” Illario stood up suddenly, his chair scraping loudly against the cobblestones in his haste. “Leave this to me.” He spat the order at Lucanis over his shoulder, and stormed out of the cafe. If Rook was surprised by their argument, or Illario’s speedy departure, it didn’t show on her face.

“Here, I’ll go check outside, maybe I can smooth things over?” Rook offered, and Lucanis sighed. Illario had behaved embarrassingly, and had been even worse than usual when it came to his advances with Rook. And still, she was trying help. Lucanis knew he would already be gone, but he nodded and went to order their drinks as Rook stepped out of the cafe. 

Rook returned to the table not long after Lucanis had sat down with their drinks, and he slid her cioccolata calda to her as he nursed his own cup of coffee, arms crossed over his chest. “He’s gone,” Rook said, her tone apologetic.

Lucanis shook his head, “Of course he is. Illario always caves under pressure.” Rook shrugged, and took a sip from her mug.

“Let him. Crow business or not, we’ll find Zara ourselves.” Lucanis relaxed slightly at Rook’s words, and found that he completely believed her. She meant what she said, and Lucanis was struck by how quickly he had come to trust her.

“Good.” He murmured into his mug, and he could feel Spite pressing forward to savor the smell with him as he inhaled deeply. They sat in comfortable silence for a moment, Rook watching him in that strange, intense way of hers.

“Bitter and sweet, you called that blend.” She spoke suddenly, almost startling Lucanis as she repeated his earlier words back to him. Her lips curved up into a smile, her eyes sparkling with familiar mischief. “Like a kiss goodbye.” She mimicked him, distorting and lowering her voice in an exaggerated impression of Lucanis. 

He laughed, as he often did with Rook. She had a knack for grounding him in the present moment, carefully parting the storm clouds as they gathered inside him. He had no idea how she managed to consistently say the right thing at the right time, but her company was a luxury he had already grown attached to. 

“So…” She continued, still smiling, but there was a spark of something new in her eyes, “What would a first kiss be?”

“Honey and lavender cream,” Lucanis’ words tumbled out faster than he could stop them. He was enjoying this new direction their conversation had gone in, and his eyes fell again to Rook’s lips as he answered with her in mind. “Sweet, intriguing…” He found her eyes again, and heat pooled in his belly as he asked, “And you? How would you describe it?”

She looked embarrassed, but not unhappy or uncomfortable like she had when Illario embraced her. Lucanis was still seething that he had done that. Rook struck Lucanis as a bit shy, reserved even, under normal circumstances. The type of person it usually takes some time to get to know, her usual bravado and swagger were nonexistent in moments like this.

He relished the effect he had on her, the way she easily flushed at a word from him, pink from her cheeks to the tips of her pointed ears. 

“First kisses?” She repeated back to him, like she was stalling for time. He granted no mercy, and only offered a light smile over the rim of his mug. “I… wouldn’t know. There’s just never really been, well.” She trailed off and dropped her eyes to her own mug.

Lucanis was taken aback by her response and couldn’t help the surprised “Really?” that fell from his mouth. Rook remained intent upon the contents of her mug, nervously swirling her cioccolata calda as she nodded.

He had seen Rook occasionally engage in what passed for playful flirting with just about everyone on her team. It was clearly innocent, meant to lighten the mood or earn a laugh. Her intense bashfulness whenever Lucanis reciprocated made a great deal more sense in light of this new information.

He had never been particularly adept when it came to the art of flirtation himself, that was usually more Illario’s department than his. His small handful of attempts at acting on his affections in the past had generally not gone in his favor. Lucanis was thus mostly content to engage in casual sex when the need arose, as opposed to practiced romance.

Now, sitting here with Rook on what could have easily been called a date, minus the part with Illario, Lucanis felt long abandoned desires begin to stir. “One must be discerning,” He started carefully, not wanting to ruin the moment, “When dealing in matters of the heart.” Rook gazed at him curiously, seemingly weighing his words in her mind.

“That sounds like the voice of experience.” The question in her statement was obvious, and Lucanis ached at the softness of her. He had only seen her like this once before, when she had visited him in his pantry with all of her strange honesty and vulnerability on full display. He selfishly wondered if she only showed this side of herself to him, if he was special, or if everyone got to experience this if they spent enough time in her company. He was toeing a dangerous line.

“I’ve always thought that to live truly is to live fully.” Lucanis wanted her to stay like this for as long as possible, and he spoke as honestly as he could manage in the hopes that she would feel his sincerity. “But, even before I was captured,” Lucanis felt her lean forward slightly as he continued, her thigh brushing against his knee as she shifted, “… My life was not really my own. So much had been determined for me.” The cafe seemed to fade into the background, he was so focused on her. He was sharing things he had never dared speak aloud before, willingly offering a piece of himself that nobody outside of Spite had ever been privy to. 

“Being grandson to the First Talon must come with a lot of pressure.” Rook seemed relaxed as she spoke. A comfort had settled over her, not dissimilar to what Lucanis observed when she was lounging in the lighthouse engaging in some discourse with Harding. Not just tender for Harding. Tender for US. Spite’s voice echoed low in Lucanis’ head, thick with some feeling he couldn’t identify. 

“Much like House De Riva?” Lucanis countered, thinking back to the strained dynamic between her and the Fifth Talon, the way Rook seemed to seek out Viago's gaze while simultaneously shrinking beneath it. Rook had pulled back from him the last time he had mentioned Viago, but this time she remained quiet and open, contemplating his words. 

“It’s… less about the house for me, more about Viago.” Rook followed her quiet admission with another sip from her mug, and Lucanis mirrored her. “I never want him to regret… Well, he didn’t have to take me in when he did.” She finished, and there was a sadness in her voice that Lucanis had never heard. Shame. Spite murmured in Lucanis’ mind again, and he suspected that the demon was listening and watching Rook just as intently as Lucanis was.

“Were you born here, in Antiva?” He was hungry for more, as much as she was willing to give.

“No… I don’t think so. I don’t really know. I don’t remember much before living with Viago though, or it's more like... I don’t think about it. I was in Tevinter when he purchased my freedom.” Rook started off slowly, but rushed through her words as she continued. The pieces continued to click into place. “But, Antiva has been my home for the majority of my life. We lived in Salle for much of my childhood.”

Freedom, Lucanis dwelled on the word she had used. Rook’s version of being free was a life indebted to Viago, raised as a Crow with no alternative. Lucanis thought bitterly of their parallel circumstances, the life Lucanis had always been trapped in. It was the furthest thing from freedom, exchanging servitude of one type for another.

“I guess, ever since my run-in with the Antaam, I don’t need to worry about disappointing them anymore.” Lucanis could see straight through the act now, past the levity directly into the grief swimming just below the surface. He had received a summary of the incident that led to Rook’s contract with Varric from Illario when she disappeared to give her report to Viago after the Ossuary. 

“Rook,” Lucanis sighed her name, and he felt bad that he was now in the habit  of bringing up topics that pained her. “There’s no need to doubt yourself. And if you do, I’ll be here to convince you.” It was finally his turn to blush as she dazzled him with a genuine smile, affection plain in her face. He couldn’t bear it, and rushed to ask her how her drink was, despite the fact that she was almost finished. Her smile never left her face, and he practically melted when she looked into his eyes and said, “Just sweet enough to intrigue me.”

Chapter Text

Rook and Lucanis only seemed to grow closer as the days bled together. Something had shifted between them after their trip back to Treviso, and the others had noticed. Harding, especially, was on edge every time the three of them ventured out together. Her wariness of Lucanis sharpened as she watched Rook soften with each day. 

“The Demon of Vyrantium, huh? And they called you that before the demon.” Harding made the pointed comment as they finished a particularly brutal brawl with the Venatori in the streets of Dock Town. Neve had gone ahead, asking Rook to meet her there, but the streets of Minrathous could be dangerous for a lone elf. Rook had sheepishly approached Harding and Lucanis for company. 

“Ah. You don’t have that enchanted barbed arrow in your quiver because you think it's pretty.” Lucanis had fallen into something of a routine when it came to exchanging barbs with Harding, though he still bore her no ill will.

“It is though, isn't it? The red shimmer is the enfeebling magic. And the spiked tip is designed to splinter inside the target.” Harding wasn’t looking at Lucanis as she spoke, having pulled the aforementioned arrow out to twirl it between her fingers.

“Harding.” Rook’s voice carried a warning, but Harding and Lucanis both ignored her.

“Very nice.” Lucanis made an exaggerated show of being polite. 

“I thought you'd like that! I really hope I don't have to use it though. It cost me a lot of gold.” Harding met Lucanis’ eyes again, the challenge evident in her face as she slipped the arrow back into her quiver.

“That’s why you only have the one.” Lucanis taunted her right back.

“You guys, seriously.” Rook’s irritation was palpable now, and she picked up speed as they neared their destination.

“Well, I only need one. Especially from this close.” Harding kept pressing, she was extra spirited today. Lucanis opened his mouth to bite back again, but Rook whipped around, startling them both. 

“Would you knock it off, both of you? We’re almost to the meeting point, I’ll go the rest of the way on my own and come back later with Neve. You guys should… I don’t know. Go back to the lighthouse.” Lucanis and Harding both stared at Rook, stunned into silence. It was rare for her to lose her temper in general, and she was usually especially tolerant when it came to Harding or Lucanis. Spite snarled, materializing beside Harding as Rook turned on her heel and walked away. HER. FAULT. The demon scowled at Harding, who was blissfully unaware of Spite’s proximity. Lucanis sighed as he and Harding began the trek back to the eluvian. 

“Now you’ve upset Spite.” He remarked to Harding as they walked. Harding huffed at Lucanis, but the fight had mostly gone out of her after Rook's scolding. Lucanis watched her out of the corner of his eye, the silence stretching between them as they weaved through crowded streets and tight alleyways. “Teia told me you were fearless. Threatening the Demon of Vyrantium to his face certainly proves it.” He rarely spent any time with Harding without Rook present, and he felt a potential opportunity forming in front of him.

“You know, it's actually the opposite.” Harding’s voice was much gentler than Lucanis expected when she spoke. “I'm afraid of what you are.”

It would have hurt less if she’d stabbed him in the gut. Her words rang in his ears, prodding at a tightly wound insecurity.

“And brutally honest! She didn't mention that part.” He tried to recover, but his hurt leaked into his words, despite his best efforts. Harding was silent, and they didn’t speak again until they stepped through the eluvian and into the Crossroads.

“I’ve seen demons. I know how they can corrupt. I know it won't even be your fault if it happens.” Lucanis didn’t look at Harding. Her words were too honest, free of any malice, and much too close to Lucanis’ deep-seated anxieties regarding Spite. The demon was still visible to him, settling into a seated position next to Harding as they boarded the Caretaker’s boat, cocking his head back and forth at her like a curious animal. Harding spoke again, even as he desperately wished she wouldn’t. “But I won't let someone else turn on my friends. No matter how scared I am.” She lifted her chin as she spoke, and through the sting of her words, Lucanis felt a grudging respect stir.

“Good. Keep your bow close.” He nodded to her, holding her gaze. For the first time since his arrival, it felt like they had reached a mutual understanding, and her shoulders relaxed as she looked out over the side of the boat. When they stepped through the eluvian and back into the lighthouse, Lucanis thought that would be the end of it, but he was caught off guard again when she called his name.

“Lucanis… I, um. Would you like to harvest some herbs with me? I have a few that are ready to be added to the pantry.” Lucanis almost said no, but hesitated. This was an olive branch, would it really be wise to refuse?

And so he found himself in Harding’s greenhouse, where he explored Harding’s growing collection of plants and personal effects with fascination. “You can sit in Rook’s chair if you want.” Harding motioned to an armchair situated next to a small canopy over a sleeping bag. Lucanis made his way to the seat at her direction, perching awkwardly on the edge of the cushion. 

Smells. Like ROOK. Spite’s spectral face was pressed into the back of the chair, inhaling where Rook had likely rested her head countless times.

“Rook told me you helped pick out the spearmint, it’s been doing very well since I planted it here.” Harding’s fingers brushed over the leaves of the plant that he and Rook had brought back from the Treviso market, delicate and thoughtful with her touch.

“I’m not surprised, it seems most things tend to thrive under your care.” Lucanis was being genuine, but Harding snorted as though he had made a joke. “You almost sound like Rook, she says things like that all the time.” There was a smile in her voice as she spoke Rook’s name, and Lucanis could picture her face clearly even with her back turned. “Varric loved that about her, you know.” Harding had stopped fiddling with the plant. Her hands were folded in her lap, and she stared down into the soil as if searching for answers in the dirt.

“Loved what?” Lucanis asked, tentative. He had never spoken like this with Harding, it was shaky ground for him. 

“You know, that Rook thing. She does something, or says something and it’s like... You can see her whole heart for a moment, and she’s looking right through you.” Harding turned to face Lucanis then, and he was startled to see a mist of tears in her eyes. “It’s going to get her hurt one day, I just know it. But I can’t stop it. All I can do is watch, and hope that her luck keeps panning out. But after Varric…” Harding wiped the unshed tears from her eyes, and took a steadying breath. “It’s harder, now.”

Lucanis felt a tugging sensation in his chest, as though his heart was bobbing on a lure. He wondered how many people he could realistically protect, how many he could care for before it became too dangerous.

Caterina was gone now. Only Illario remained, fighting him at every turn. Rook had already settled into the gaps left in his heart, and he allowed himself to believe he could keep her there. He could do it, if he was careful.

Could he stretch it to two people? Could he make room for Harding in that tight circle of trust? And what of Neve and Bellara, they were important to Rook too. Could they be important to him, and if so, how would he manage it? Could he prevent further losses than what they had already suffered? Lucanis’ head was swimming with questions he had no answers for. 

In the end, all he could manage was, “I’m sorry.” And he meant it with every fiber of his being. Harding must have felt his sincerity, and she offered a watery smile in thanks.

“Here,” Harding stood up, pressing a small bundle of clipped herbs into Lucanis’ hands, and Spite leaned forward eagerly to sniff them. “You can take these back to the pantry with you.” Lucanis nodded, rising from Rook’s chair. 

“I should go prepare tonight’s meal.” Lucanis nodded politely as he made his way to the door. Harding hummed in response, and turned her back to him as she returned to tending her plants. 

— 

Rook was the last one to file into the kitchen for dinner that evening, looking tired from her time in Minrathous with Neve, but otherwise in better spirits than when Harding and Lucanis had left her that afternoon. Lucanis had already finished his meal by that point, and was nursing a cup of coffee while listening to the casual chatter between Bellara and Neve.

Harding felt better after her heart-to-heart with Lucanis. He was still an abomination, and that required some level of caution. But she was satisfied that he was, ultimately, a good man. He at least wouldn’t hurt Rook on purpose.

Harding caught Rook’s eye as she sat at the table with a small plate of food, and offered a tentative smile. Are we good?

Rook responded with a smile in kind. Yes, we are. 

Harding relaxed, and briefed Rook on the correspondence she had received from her Warden contacts. She’d contacted them at Rook’s behest several days prior, and they finally had a tentative meeting set up. Rook brightened at the development, the Blight was weighing heavily on her mind. The First Warden made it clear he had no intention of providing his assistance to them, and was openly hostile to Rook despite her pleas for cooperation.

“Alright, we can head out first thing in the morning then!” Rook’s enthusiastic response was exactly what Harding wanted to hear.

—

Lucanis spent the dinner listening to Rook and Harding’s conversation as he drank his coffee, and watched Spite as he wandered around the table inhaling the scent of their meals. Once everyone finished their food and began trickling out of the kitchen back to their respective rooms, he grabbed Rook gently by the elbow. She stopped and smiled up at him.

“Everything okay?” She queried as the kitchen doors clicked shut, leaving them in silence, save the crackling of the ever-burning flame in the hearth. Lucanis nodded, leaning against the closed door. 

“Yes, I just… I think I should go with you tomorrow, to meet with these Wardens.” Lucanis didn’t usually ask to go on specific outings with Rook, she brought him along most times without him saying anything, and only left him at the lighthouse for rare errands she ran with other members of their team. Rook frowned slightly.

“I was going to go alone with Harding, it’s just a meeting to see if we can get a few Wardens to help us, if not the order itself.” Rook placed a reassuring hand on Lucanis’ shoulder, and the heat of her touch seemed to burn through his clothes straight into his skin. Spite made a rather obscene noise in response, and Lucanis struggled to tune him out as he focused on Rook, patiently waiting on him.

“I know, but Wardens are… dangerous. I’ve dealt with them before.” Lucanis couldn’t shake the bad feeling he had about this mission, a whispering dread in the pit of his stomach. Rook laughed a little, not picking up on his unease. 

“I would also be considered rather dangerous by most people’s estimation, Lucanis.” His name on her lips never ceased to delight him, and his eyes briefly flicked over her shoulder to where Spite had settled himself, standing mere centimeters behind Rook. The demon grinned at him wickedly and leaned his face into to the dip where Rook’s shoulder met her neck. He inhaled deeply, the gesture erotic and intimate, all while Rook remained completely unaware.

He must have been staring for longer than he realized, because Rook frowned slightly, and reached upwards. Her fingers grazed his cheek, and she lightly tilted his face until he met her eyes again. “Spite causing trouble?” She murmured, gentle and quiet in the way she only ever was when they were alone together.

“Always.” He sighed, and allowed himself to lean into her touch, just a fraction. They both remained still for a moment, before Rook dropped her hand back to her side again, and Lucanis was left with the ghost of her warmth still clinging to him. Spite was watching, still pressed against Rook’s back, intently focused on her fingers and where they had made contact with Lucanis’ skin.

“Alright. Meet us at the eluvian in the morning.” Rook relented, and relief coursed through Lucanis, cooling some of the heat that had been brewing between them. Lucanis moved aside, unblocking the door. Rook stepped back from him awkwardly, mumbling a hurried ‘goodnight,’ as she scurried out. 

Lucanis pressed a hand over his eyes once she was gone, unable to ignore the weight of how badly he wanted her. Spite was tangled in his thoughts again, and he couldn’t discern which desires were his and which were the demon’s. Perhaps they were one and the same, their combined desperation to touch and be touched by her. He was lost in a torrential downpour of illicit fantasies as he retreated to his pantry, determined to get ahold of himself by morning.

Chapter Text

Rook slept poorly most nights, ever since Solas’ ritual. She made a conscious effort during the day to try and not think about the elven god of treachery being in her fucking head, but his presence was impossible to ignore as she drifted into sleep. She dreamt of wolves, of being watched and hunted, carefully corralled into corners she couldn’t escape from. She had no idea if the dreams were a manifestation of her own anxious subconscious, or if it was something Solas was doing to her intentionally, a calculated use of their tenuous blood magic bond to wear her down. Asking him directly would have felt like admitting defeat or revealing weakness, something she'd resolved to never do.

She kept the dreams to herself, reluctant to involve the rest of the team. They needed to work with Solas if they had any hope of winning against the Evanuris, and Rook was more than willing to shoulder some sleepless nights if it meant she could gain an advantage. Tonight however, it wasn’t Solas that had her tossing and turning.

Lucanis’ face swam in her mind, his voice echoed in her memory. She raised her hand out in front of her, studying her palm in the blue-green light of her room. The memory of his skin and beard brushing against her fingers was still fresh. She wasn’t sure what had prompted her to touch him like that, she’d never done such a thing in her entire life.

Everything felt different with him. She cared about him, but not in the same way she did for Harding, Varric, or even Viago. He both did and didn’t feel like family. He didn’t feel quite like a friend either, she was never nervous with Bellara or Neve the way she was with him. But it felt good, she couldn’t deny it. She had a physical reaction to him that left her heart racing and her skin hot. She closed her eyes and tried to shake him off. Still, even as she drifted into her usual fitful sleep, he remained at the forefront of her mind.

— 

Lucanis thought Rook seemed a bit more tired than usual when she met him and Harding at the eluvian, but he was hardly one to talk. If Harding noticed, she kept it to herself as well, and the three of them travelled mostly in silence, occasionally chatting about the landscape or local fauna.

The meeting with Harding’s Warden contacts, Antoine and Evka, went well, all things considered. Lucanis hung back as they chatted, watching for danger, that persistent gnawing dread keeping him on edge. When Rook and Harding bid the Wardens farewell without incident, he let out a sigh of relief.

“Feel like going with me on another little adventure?” Rook’s voice was playful and breezy, but Lucanis still caught the undercurrent of exhaustion. He glanced over at Harding.

“I need to head back to the lighthouse and check in with the others, but the Wardens gave us a lead on somebody who might be able to help us, a monster hunter called Davrin.” Harding filled him in quickly while Rook waited patiently for his answer, as if he could ever refuse her.

They parted ways with Harding and made their way in the direction indicated by Antoine and Evka. “So, this Davrin is another warden?” Lucanis kept pace with Rook, one hand resting on the hilt of his rapier as they walked. 

“Yeah, apparently he has a reputation for hunting monsters in addition to fighting Blight, could be useful.” Rook was scanning the horizon as she went, ready to jump into action at the first hint of a threat.

“Could be,” Lucanis mused, “As long as you’re careful.” Rook shook her head slightly.

“I’m as careful as I can afford to be, but we aren’t in any position to turn down potential allies.” Lucanis gave a quiet ‘mm’ in response, eyes trained on Rook’s back as she pulled ahead of him.

When they arrived at the abandoned camp, the very air felt wrong. Rook grabbed hold of Lucanis’ arm, nodding toward dead darkspawn and the Blight that was oozing from the small tent. Lucanis maneuvered carefully around the ooze and knelt by the still burning campfire. “Fire is still burning, were they ambushed?” Lucanis was on edge, hyper aware of his surroundings. Rook didn’t have a chance to answer before a sharp screech pierced the air.

They locked eyes, and Rook stepped quickly around the back of Lucanis, scanning for darkspawn activity. He went to stand, but as he did, there was sudden movement from the rock face above them. “Move!” Lucanis called a warning to Rook even as he grabbed hold of her, yanking her backwards as the creature pounced. 

She stumbled back, the sudden momentum of Lucanis’ quick rescue had startled her almost as much as the animal now stalking towards them. He steadied her with one hand and drew a blade with his other. “Wait!” Rook grabbed at him, stopping him from brandishing the weapon just as a new threat arrived.

“Assan!” A man’s voice called sharply, and a heavily armed elf appeared over the nearby outcropping.

“I’ll be damned, a griffon.” Breathless awe colored Rook’s words, her eyes fixed on the creature as it halted it’s advance. It squawked at them, and Lucanis tightened his hold on her instinctively, ready to pull her out of it’s path again even as it retreated to the side of the approaching elf.

“Trouble is, he’s not sure what you are. Neither am I.” The man was on guard, he looked as suspicious of them as Lucanis was of him. Rook, however, maneuvered out of his grip. She introduced herself and asked politely after Davrin, as if they weren’t standing on the precipice of a fight. Lucanis was struck by a sudden sense of deja vu as Rook positioned herself between him and the potential threat, one hand angled carefully out of Davrin’s view hovering over her blade. It’s was almost exactly how she had approached him with Harding in the Ossuary.

Lucanis didn’t have time to be amused at the idea that he was playing the role of Harding in their current scenario, before the man was speaking again. “You found him,” He said gruffly, identifying himself as Davrin. “Mind telling me why you smell like darkspawn? Griffons hunt darkspawn.” Lucanis did not like this man’s tone, self-righteous and accusatory. Typical Warden.

“Aren’t Wardens supposed to be able to sense Blight? Take a look around at your camp.” Lucanis snapped at Davrin, earning himself a sidelong glare from Rook as he gestured around them.

Davrin’s gaze followed Lucanis’ hands, ignoring the jab in favor of asking another question. “Where are Lancit and Remi?”

“The camp was empty when we got here.” Rook soothed, Lucanis had spent enough time with her now to recognize the voice she used when trying to de-escalate a situation. Another shrieking sound pierced the air, but this new noise was distinctly not another griffon.

“Mierda.” Lucanis swore under his breath, he was hating this more by the moment. Rook reached over then, grabbing his wrist in her hand to deliver a single, light squeeze. She didn’t look at him as she did it, she was already offering their assistance to Davrin, and he was grudgingly accepting. Even so, the message was received, and Lucanis was again humbled by the way Rook read and responded to every situation.

They followed after the Warden, and Lucanis was reluctantly interested as he listened to Davrin explain the Wardens’ secret griffons. Assan flitted about, squawking in response to things Davrin said as though he understood every word. Rook liked animals, often stopping to pet cats and dogs in Treviso or Minrathous, and Lucanis could tell by the way her eyes kept drifting to Assan that she wanted to touch him.

“I bet he’ll let you, if you ask nicely.” Lucanis murmured in her ear, low enough that Davrin wouldn’t hear. Rook blushed at his proximity, and shook her head.

“Maybe later.” She retorted, and Lucanis stifled a laugh at how easily he'd guessed her intentions.

They cut through their first wave of darkspawn with relative ease, however their victory was hollow. Davrin knelt gingerly by his dying comrade. Warden Remi, one of the two griffon trainers, couldn’t be saved. Her death imbued them with a new wave of urgency, and they moved through the next sections of the aerie with clinical efficiency, cutting down darkspawn in increasing numbers. Rook, as always, was a force of nature in battle.

Davrin glanced back at the two of them, and Lucanis bristled slightly as his eyes lingered on Rook. “You’re not bad in a fight, for not being Wardens yourself.” Davrin had confidence, Lucanis would give him that.

“I’ll take a fellow Crow over a Warden at my back any day.” He grumbled, and he saw Rook bite back a grin.

“Antivan Crows?” Davrin raised an eyebrow, “Both of you?”

“Absolutely,” Rook tipped her chin at Davrin, “But don’t worry, our contract isn’t for you.” Yet. Lucanis couldn't stop the bitter thought. He would have to find Harding back at the lighthouse to apologize now that he had a better idea of how she must have felt recruiting him from the Ossuary.

When they finally reached the griffons, the situation was grim. The second trainer, Warden Lancit, was nothing more than a Blighted corpse when they found him, and Davrin was growing reckless with rage in their battles. The griffon cages were sealed with blood magic, and the backs of Lucanis’ eyes throbbed. Davrin spoke softly to the trapped griffons as they walked past the cages, making them promises of a swift rescue. 

The number of darkspawn that swarmed them as they moved through the cages was the most they’d ever seen. Lucanis could feel his muscles burning, even with Spite’s strength. Rook was also starting to slow, her breath coming harder as she dodged and parried. Assassins weren’t well suited against a horde of darkspawn, but Rook was a skilled tactician.

She dropped back, allowing Davrin to take over dealing damage while Lucanis kept the attention of the enemy. She sheathed her blades and drew her bow, mimicking Harding’s usual role with carefully-aimed shots. She couldn’t wield the same rate of fire as Harding, but she made up for it with force instead. Her arrows struck true and ripped through the darkspawn with devastating results. Lucanis was relieved when the last creature fell, a hard-won victory. He motioned Rook over, placing a rejuvenation potion in her hand.

“Do you have more, one for yourself?” Rook waited for Lucanis to take one as well before downing hers. “Alright, last push.” Rook encouraged, clapping him on the arm as they fell in line behind Davrin once more. She was covered in dust and grime, they all were, and her leather armor was frayed and torn in spots where darkspawn claws had swung just a bit too close. Miraculously though, they were all uninjured, and Lucanis marveled at her ability to guide them through anything thrown their way.

The air had grown colder during their ascent, the sky dark and foreboding. When they crested the final set of stairs carved into the stone of the mountain, a monstrosity awaited them. The screeching creature, The Gloom Howler, as Davrin called it, had it’s back turned to them. “Their blood is mine.” It spoke in a gravelly voice without turning to face them, and Lucanis felt Spite’s unease swirling within. Careful, CAREFUL. The demon’s power hummed beneath his fingertips, defensive and on edge.

“So, it can talk.” Rook eyed the creature clinically. While Lucanis thought she was entirely too calm, he trusted her enough to wait and follow her lead. 

Davrin was furious, but they couldn’t attack, not with the Gloom Howler standing between them and the griffons. 

“I’ll spill mine before that happens!” The Warden seethed, drawing his blade as he stepped around Rook to confront the Gloom Howler. Rook’s breath caught slightly and Lucanis tensed, Davrin’s judgement was clouded by his desperation. They were already worn down from their prior engagements with the darkspawn, facing an unknown enemy with captives at play. 

The situation was precarious, and Davrin didn’t seem to have any intention of following Rook’s lead. “And I’ll collect, Warden. On both of you.” The Gloom Howler finally turned as it addressed them, it's sunken yellow eyes passing over their group with chilling malice. Rook glanced at Davrin, exasperation clear in her gaze. 

“No one needs to spill anyone’s blood. We just want the griffons.” Rook was stalling. Lucanis could tell by the way she was surveying the area, still searching for an opening they could exploit. Davrin had escalated things much too quickly, either unaware of or not caring how Rook preferred to work.

“They were never yours.” The Gloom Howler snarled in response, and Davrin made his move, patience worn through.

“Don’t!” Rook hissed, grabbing for his arm, but it was too late. The Gloom Howler raised one gnarled limb, and wild magic swirled, obscuring their vision with thick fog. Davrin swung wildly, cleaving the air where his quarry had once stood, but the Gloom Howler had all but evaporated with every caged griffon in tow.

—

As the fog cleared, it’s grating voice echoed in the air around them. “Mortal threats are a dull blade.” Davrin’s rage gave way to grief as he cried out, the weight of their loss settling into the silence. Rook approached Davrin and Assan slowly, she had no words to ease their suffering.

Davrin looked at Rook, defeat etched into his face. “There are only thirteen griffons alive in Thedas.” He gazed down at a griffon feather, pressed gently between his fingers. “That monster just took twelve of them.”

Rook considered Davrin’s words, weighing them against everything she’d learned about the gods and the Blight. This had to be connected, it had to be. The timing was too convenient, the Gloom Howler’s command of the Blight too precise. “What if we could help get them back?” She held Davrin’s gaze as his head snapped around to face her.

“I’d ask, ‘what’s the catch?’” Davrin’s eyes flicked from her to Lucanis, who had come to hover just behind her left shoulder as they spoke. 

“I need a monster hunter. For the Blight to end all Blights.” There was no use sugarcoating it, they were long past that point.

“The First Warden agreed to this?” Doubt creased Davrin’s brow, and Lucanis let out an indelicate snort.

“No, he tried to throw her in prison actually.” Rook elbowed Lucanis lightly in the ribs as he spoke, and he shrugged as if to say ‘well, it’s true.’

“Uh, no. But, the First Warden is fighting the wrong war. We don’t have any other choice.” Davrin huffed out a joyless chuckle.

“Well, going against the First Warden takes guts, I’ll give you that.” He looked down at his griffon, running one hand over his feathered head. “Plus, you did save Assan back there, you’re no lightweight. And if you can help get the other griffons back…” Rook grinned as Assan squawked his agreement loudly over Davrin. Another bargain was struck, and they had recruited their monster hunter.

Chapter Text

Rook was exhausted, the kind of tired that aches all the way down to the bone. She didn’t think she had ever fantasized about sleeping a single time in her life, but that was exactly what she was doing now in the Caretaker’s boat. She was suddenly aware of both Lucanis and Davrin staring at her, Assan’s head cocked expectantly.

“Oh! I’m sorry, I wasn’t paying attention. Did you say something?” She was too tired to be embarrassed by her poor manners. Davrin smirked, clearly more amused than offended.

He jerked his chin towards the rapidly approaching island. “I asked if this is where you live… in the Fade.” The Caretaker maneuvered the boat through invisible currents until they were lined up alongside the crumbling dock. 

“Yeah, it’s cozy.” Rook stretched as she rose, and Lucanis stepped out onto the dock, reaching back to offer her a hand. “And, the gods can’t find us here.” She allowed Lucanis to pull her up onto the dock. Davrin raised his eyebrows from where he still stood in the boat.

“Not going to help me out of the boat, too?” Davrin’s voice was thick with sarcasm as Lucanis placed both fists on his hips.

“No.” Lucanis deadpanned, and Rook sighed as Davrin hopped up alongside them, Assan following close behind. She was too sleepy to manage their behavior right now.

“We’ll find you and Assan a nice-”

“Rook!” Neve’s voice cut through Rook’s sentence, and Rook turned sharply to see her running towards them with Bellara and Harding in tow.

“What’s wrong?” Rook rushed to meet them, exhaustion temporarily banished by a rush of adrenaline. 

“A lot.” Harding was slightly out of breath as she spoke, stress lining every feature. “Treviso and Minrathous are both under attack-” Neve interrupted Harding as she spoke, “Blighted dragons, two of them. One for each city.” Rook barely processed Lucanis’ sharp intake of breath behind her. Her mind was racing, her thoughts tumbling one over another as she tried to process what they were telling her.

“You got back just in time.” Harding spoke again as Lucanis moved to join the group, turning to face Rook alongside the rest of the team. 

“Any sign of the gods? Two dragons at once can’t be a coincidence.” They were working with very little time and even less information. Rook needed to formulate a plan, quickly. 

“If it is, the Shadow Dragons and the Crows didn’t say anything about it.” Harding glanced between Neve and Lucanis as she answered Rook, shifting nervously from foot to foot.

“Last time you saw a dragon, the gods were nearby, no? They’ll be lurking somewhere.” Rook looked at Lucanis for the first time as he spoke. His eyes were bright and intense, and he looked down at Harding as he continued. “Treviso’s a merchant city, it has no defenses! And the canals run everywhere.” He was speaking quickly, panic lacing every word as he turned back to Rook again. “If we don’t stop that dragon, people will die. Innocent people.”

He stepped towards Rook, his eyes pleading and vulnerable. “Our people. They either die right away from the dragon, or slowly after, from Blight in the water. We need to go to Treviso.” As he finished, he reached forward to grab Rook’s wrist, yanking her with him as he started back towards the Caretaker’s boat. 

Rook felt another hand grab her free arm, holding her in place. “And leave Minrathous to burn?” Neve’s voice was cold as ice as she tugged Rook back, and her hearted dropped into her stomach as the implication of her choice began to materialize.

“Neve-” Lucanis started, guilt and pain flashing across his features.

“The Shadow Dragons will fight. Right to the end of it.” Neve was looking at Rook now, her fingers still firmly wrapped around her elbow. Her hand was shockingly cold even through Rook's armor. “But we’re the only ones keeping the Venatori in check. And if we fail? The Venatori will take advantage. They’ll make a push for the throne, and hand the gods the entire Tevinter empire!”

Rook’s head was spinning, the right choice lost in the tangle of Neve and Lucanis’ arguments. She needed more information, if she could just have a little bit more to work with she was sure she could come up with a plan, a way to save both cities. She looked at Harding, who seemed just as torn on what to do. Rook opened her mouth to ask a question, but Neve wouldn’t let her.

“Damn it, Rook, there’s no time! I need to go home, I need to be in Minrathous.” Neve dropped Rook’s arm, her eyes drifting to where Lucanis still maintained his hold on her. “I know Treviso is your home, the home of the people you love but…” Neve looked desperate and sad, lost for words for the first time since Rook had known her. “Please, don’t leave us to fight this alone.” And with that final plea, Neve took off running, leaving Rook to make her terrible choice. 

Rook took a deep breath, and swallowed the rising tears. There was no time for crying, not when action was required. “Harding, Bellara. Go with Neve to Minrathous. They’ll need ranged fighters, and medical support. Take as many potions as you can carry.” She turned to Davrin next. “I’m sorry, I know you just got here but-” Davrin raised a hand to stop her.

“Whatever you need, I’m there.” Rook felt a rush of intense gratitude, but there was no time to express it. “Alright, Davrin will come with Lucanis and I to Treviso.” Bellara and Harding turned back towards the lighthouse eluvian to gear up with Neve as Lucanis and Davrin piled back into the Caretaker’s boat.

Rook grabbed Harding by the shoulder before she could get too far. Harding turned to face her, and Rook pulled her into a fierce embrace, dropping her cheek to rest briefly against Harding’s hair. “Please, don’t die. Please.” Was all she could manage before she released her, pushing her lightly back towards Bellara as she hopped into the boat. Harding nodded once, her lower lip quivering slightly, but said nothing as she took off down the dock alongside Bellara. 

—

Treviso was chaos when they arrived, and Rook led them towards the sound of the dragon bellowing in the distance at a full sprint. They leapt over bloodied and burnt bodies as they went, only slowing down to pick up information from the injured Crows littering the rooftops. They learned that the Antaam were fighting Crows in the streets, allegedly in command of the dragon. 

They caught their first glimpse of the dragon as they took a zipline towards the Coin District. It was much closer than anticipated, and Lucanis watched with growing horror as it rained blighted beams of ice upon the people of Treviso. It’s massive wings took out chunks of stone as it careened between buildings, and fires raged throughout the city.

Lucanis pulled ahead of Rook, calling for her and Davrin to follow as he leapt onto a nearby balcony and shouldered open the door into the building. Antaam were waiting within and Lucanis engaged the first one on the stairwell immediately, catching the Qunari off guard. Rook was close behind, and vaulted over the railing of the stairs, landing on top of their commander. Lucanis was well suited to close-quarters combat, and dispatched his opponent with relative ease. Davrin had brought up the rear on their way in, and he was already further down the stairs brawling with a third warrior. He appeared to have the upper hand, and Lucanis turned to find Rook just as Davrin bashed his shield into the face of his foe.

She was at the far end of the room below, engaged in vicious melee combat with the Antaam commander. She had already landed several blows, blood was streaming from wounds across the warrior’s exposed back and calves. He was waving his axe wildly as Rook dodged and rolled, a relentless flurry of motion.

“Ebost issala!” The commander shouted in Qunlat as he swung for her again, missing by an inch.

“Fuck you!” Rook snarled back as she darted forward, slashing at his exposed chest. Her blow landed too shallow, and the commander dropped his axe, opting to grab at her instead while she was within reach. He hooked his fingers into the straps at the front of her armor just as Lucanis reached them, ramming her back into the wall while Lucanis drove a blade into the side of his throat. The Qunari staggered to the left, but maintained his grip on Rook, dragging her with him as he stumbled. Davrin appeared as Lucanis prepared to strike again, driving his sword through the commander’s wrist and severing his hold on Rook.

The commander fell forward, gurgling his last words, and the three of them stood for a moment in silence. Rook bent forward slightly, breathing hard. Lucanis reached for her, but she held a hand out, halting him.

“I’m fine, just winded. We have to keep moving.” She straightened and headed for the door, Davrin and Lucanis trailing after her.

“That was a hell of a hit you took.” Davrin commented idly as they filed out of the building. “I’m pretty durable.” Rook’s response was light and casual, but Lucanis could see she was moving stiffly.

“Maybe, for a Crow. Bet you would’ve made a good warrior, if you were a bit bigger.” Davrin continued to chat as they picked their way through fire and debris.

“Rook, over here!” A familiar voice called out from the other end of the ruined courtyard, and the three of them broke into a run as they rushed forward to meet Teia.

“Teia! You’re all right.” Relief was evident in Rook’s voice, and Lucanis smiled warmly at the welcome sight of the Seventh Talon.

“Yes, fine. It is good you’re both here. We could use more Crows, even though killing dragons is… not exactly our specialty.” Teia was trying hard to maintain her composure, but Lucanis could see the stress was getting to her.

“Time to learn. We brought our new monster hunter along for the ride, this is Davrin.” Rook nodded in Davrin’s direction, and he flashed a grin at Teia. She nodded to him before continuing.

“Excellent. Where the dragon attacks, the Antaam soon follow. It is strong and fast, you must get it’s attention and lure it onto the ground.” Teia briefed them as quickly as she could, glancing up towards the sky as she spoke.

“We’ll figure out a way.” Rook’s eyes flicked past Teia, where a vast plaza lay behind a gated archway. Lucanis could see her formulating a plan as she chewed on her bottom lip, eyes traveling between the plaza and the sky. She nodded to herself slightly before addressing Teia once more.

“There’s space for it to land in there, and I get the feeling…” Rook trailed off. “Well, that’s where we’re heading.”

“Alright. I’ll go alert Viago that you’ve arrived, he’ll want to know.” Teia passed a small satchel of potions to Rook as she spoke. “He asked me to get this to you.”  Rook took the satchel from Teia, and her eyes softened as she looked down at it.

“I’m… tell him I said thanks. I’ll come see him after.” Rook refilled her potions belt from the bag, and then passed it around for Lucanis and Davrin to do the same. Teia nodded to the group once more, and headed back the way they came.

Rook headed towards the gate, while Lucanis and Davrin fell into position on either side of her. “There’s blight up ahead, I can feel it. We must be close.” Davrin warned them, drawing his sword as they walked, and Lucanis drew his blades in turn. As they entered the plaza, the air seemed to shift around them, an eerie stillness temporarily descending.

Ghilan’nain’s voice range out against the night sky, “Despair. Ignorance. Mortal confusion.” Their eyes were torn upwards, where they could see Ghilan’nain in her monstrous entirety. She was perched atop one of Treviso’s sculpted stone rooftops, tentacled appendages writhing all around her. “Yet, this city offers nothing better than a pawn of the Dread Wolf.” Two of her four arms gestured about her as she spoke, and she slowly turned her masked face to glare down at Rook.

“Ghilan’nain.” Rook braced herself where she stood, laser focused on the elven goddess of monsters, and Lucanis and Davrin readied themselves in response. 

“Your patron could not stand against us ages past, he will not help you now.” Ghilan’nain moved with startling speed, shifting herself upwards as she pointed at Rook. “Give us the Dread Wolf’s dagger.”

Lucanis glanced at Rook’s right hip, where Solas’ lyrium dagger sat on her belt. She reached back and drew it, considering it in her hand for a moment. Then, she raised her chin to Ghilan’nain, the picture of defiance as she challenged the blighted goddess.

“Come get it.”

Chapter Text

The temperature dropped as the dragon descended onto the plaza, screeching as it landed with a heavy thud. Rook launched into action immediately, breaking into a sprint as she ran directly at the dragon. “Circle around back!” Rook called over her shoulder as she went, and Davrin and Lucanis wasted no time following orders.

The dragon snarled and reared backwards before launching itself at Rook, who jumped nimbly out of the way as it crashed headlong into the ground. “Back legs!” She called out another order as she darted back around to the front of the dragon, slashing at it’s Blighted snout.

Davrin hacked at the dragon’s left flank, while Lucanis went after the right. He couldn’t see Rook from his position, but there was no time to worry about her. The dragon dragged itself to its feet much quicker than any of them expected, letting out a thunderous roar. “Get back, we need distance now!” Davrin bellowed to Lucanis over the dragon as they scrambled backwards. Lucanis skirted the dragon’s right flank, and saw Rook dodging and weaving between the dragon’s front feet as it attempted to crush her beneath its talons. 

Davrin whistled once, and Assan dove at the dragon from where he had been circling overhead, striking at it’s right eye. Lucanis felt Spite manifest his wings, and he surged forward at inhuman speeds, repeatedly striking the right flank. Lucanis felt the dragon rear back again, and saw a sickly blue light crackling under the flesh of it’s pale throat. “Find cover, it’s about to fire on us!” Lucanis called up to Rook, who was still fighting at the front end of the creature. 

She rolled forward under the beast’s massive jaw as it roared out a volley of ice, cold enough to sear flesh. Rook drove her blade upwards, piercing the side of it’s jaw. Davrin was whistling for Assan again as he rounded the left flank, and Lucanis switched tactics, joining up with Davrin to focus their attacks.

Assan struck at the dragon’s wings while Davrin called out to Rook again. “Rook! Switch with me, you’re faster and I have a shield!” The dragon’s snapping jaws narrowly missed Rook as she yanked her blade free from it's tough hide.

“Works for me!” She shouted back, and she broke into a sprint as she raced down the dragon’s side while Davrin rushed forward. Lucanis could see blood on Rook’s face as she appeared beside him, it was leaking from a shallow gash along her hairline.

“Take a potion, you’re bleeding!” He urged her, and she paused for a moment to down one of Viago’s potions, before tossing the bottle over her shoulder and resuming her assault. Davrin was occupying the dragon up front now, moving backwards at a steady pace as it lumbered after him. The creature suddenly stopped, jerking it’s head backwards to glare over it’s shoulder. 

Davrin’s shouted warning came too late, and the beast spun with a sudden burst of speed, catching Rook and Lucanis with its massive tail as it went. Rook took the brunt of it, landing on top off Lucanis as they were flung several feet away into the cobblestone floor. Lucanis grunted with the impact, bruised but otherwise unharmed. Rook had one hand pressed to her ribs, gasping as she struggled to rise. Lucanis could see blood slowly soaking the leather around where the dragon’s tail spike must have pierced her armor.

There was no time for healing potions. The dragon roared again and prepared to launch itself across the plaza once more, Rook and Lucanis in it’s sights. Davrin was desperately slashing at the creature, blood and blight now pouring from its numerous wounds. Still, it seemed undeterred as it leapt across their makeshift battlefield. 

Lucanis grabbed hold of Rook and dove to the left, Spite’s wings propelling them forward with a burst of speed. Rook yelped as they tumbled out of the way, landing hard on her already injured ribs and back. “You okay?!” Lucanis knew his voice was frantic as he yanked her to her feet again.

“Yes.” Rook responded through gritted teeth, exhaustion and pain wearing her down. “Left flank, once more.” She and Lucanis rushed the left flank, where Davrin and Assan were both finally breaking through the beast’s tough outer scales. Lucanis and Rook joined with their own blades, and the force of their combined fury brought the dragon’s leg down, and it dropped onto it’s side with an ear-piercing howl. 

There was no instruction needed, all three of them rushed around to attack the dragon’s exposed belly, Assan following at their heels. They landed several blows while the creature flailed, before it managed to roll back up on to it’s feet. It took flight, the beat of it’s wings sending them stumbling as the biting wind rushed over them. As it flew, it circled back around, landing on a nearby battlement. Davrin raised his shield, stepping in front of Rook and Lucanis.

“Rook, you’re in rough shape. Not sure how much more of this we can take.” Davrin glanced over his shoulder as the dragon roared again. 

“I agree.” Lucanis knew he could still fight with Spite’s strength and endurance bolstering him. But he would not win, not without Rook and Davrin. Davrin was uninjured, but the exhaustion of the fight was wearing on him. As for Rook, she was badly wounded, and barely still standing on her own.

Ghilan’nain’s voice pierced the night again at that moment, calling to her dragon. “That is enough! We have urgent need of your strength elsewhere.” The dragon leapt from the battlement where it perched. It shrieked as it flew a circle around them, Davrin turning with it, just in case it launched and further attacks their direction. Instead, it pulled upwards, flying off into the sky and disappearing, along with Ghilan’nain.

“It’s going.” Rook murmured, watching it as it disappeared. Lucanis and Davrin leaned forward in unison to grab her as her knees gave way, easing her to the ground. 

“Durable or not, you should probably get that looked at.” Davrin knelt in front of her, peering at her bloodied ribs. 

“Probably.” Rook agreed, closing her eyes for a moment while she attempted a deep breath. 

“Mierda. It’s been too long, the potions won’t fix it now. We should get you back to the lighthouse.” Lucanis placed his hands against Rook’s side gingerly, attempting to shift her armor to see the extent of the damage.

“Rook, Lucanis!” Teia was back, Viago at her side as they rushed into the plaza that had served as their battle arena. “You fought it off!” Teia exclaimed breathlessly. “If Ghilan’nain hadn’t called it away…” Lucanis spoke grimly as Teia and Viago reached them.

Viago was kneeling in front of Rook almost as soon as he had reached them.

“Move.” He snapped, and both Davrin and Lucanis rushed out of the way in response to his sharp tone. “Let me see it.” 

“It’s not bad, it only nicked me.” Rook turned slightly from Viago, a poor attempt at hiding the injury from his view.

“How long ago, do you still have potions?” Rook shook her head at Viago’s question.

“Too long, but it’ll be fine. We can’t stay, Minrathous is under attack as well, we need to get there.” Rook looked to Davrin next. “Can you and Assan go ahead? Lucanis and I will follow shortly and meet back up at the eluvian.” Davrin nodded, and took off towards the Cantori Diamond with Assan in tow. 

Viago was scowling at Rook. “You cannot go fight another dragon! You barely managed this one, and you didn’t even kill it.” Rook frowned right back at Viago, still craning away from him as he prodded at her torn leathers.

“Well I can’t sit here and do nothing either. As you so often like to remind me, Crows always finish the job. This is the job.” Rook’s eyes were steely as she spoke, her tone calm and even. 

“You are impossible! Fine, go run off and play hero. Get yourself killed by a dragon, see if I care.” Viago had gone red in the face with anger as he berated Rook, and she cringed under the harsh sting of his words. Lucanis moved to kneel beside her once again as Viago stood up and stormed off the way he had come. 

“Vi!” Teia called sharply after him, before turning back to Rook. “Rook, I’m sorry. He didn’t mean that, you know how he is. I will talk to him.” Teia tried to soothe her, and Rook nodded mutely as she stared into her lap. “Lucanis, take her where she needs to be, and don’t let her get eaten by a dragon.” Teia instructed Lucanis before she turned and jogged after Viago.

Lucanis draped Rook’s right arm carefully over his shoulders as he reached his left arm around her waist to pull her up, careful to avoid pressure on her injured side. Even so, she hissed slightly as they stood, and leaned against him heavily. Lucanis waited a moment until she was ready, and then started walking her back to the Diamond.

“Are you sure you want to go to Minrathous? I can get you back to the lighthouse and send Davrin ahead.” Lucanis spoke softly to Rook as they moved through the streets. Rook couldn’t take the ziplines in her condition, so Lucanis led them through back alleys and empty buildings instead, watching carefully for Antaam patrols.

“Yes. I have to, for Neve. And I need to make sure Harding and Bel are okay.” Rook shifted slightly, and Lucanis paused so she could adjust before they kept walking. Lucanis sighed as she winced with every movement.

“Alright. I can get us back to the eluvian quicker with Spite’s help, if you’re willing.” Rook looked at him curiously as they slowed down again. Spite was behaving, but Lucanis could feel the demon’s excitement buzzing inside his skull as he waited for Rook’s answer. 

“Sure, if Spite doesn’t mind. Quicker would be better.”

Anything for Rook. Spite purred in response.

Rook let out a sharp yelp of surprise as Lucanis swept her legs up from under her, hoisting her in his arms as Spite’s wings unfurled behind him.

“Trust me, he doesn’t mind.” Lucanis adjusted Rook in his arms slightly, careful not to jostle her too much as Spite launched them up onto an overhead balcony, and then onto the roof. 

—

They made good time across the rooftops, and Rook’s initial embarrassment quickly gave way to her exhaustion. She leaned her head against Lucanis chest, and replayed their fight behind closed eyes, pushing Viago’s words out of her mind. She knew she wouldn’t be able to fight in Minrathous, she would only get in the way in her current state. But she could bring information that might help them, maybe give them the tactical advantage they needed. Minrathous had mages, and the Archon’s palace was known for it’s first class defense systems.

With the information Rook had gleaned from the fight with Treviso’s dragon, maybe they could even kill the other one. She was sure that if she hadn’t already been so tired, if the Antaam commander hadn’t gotten to her in advance, if she had a better grasp on the abilities of her team… she was sure she could have worn it down enough to kill it. She was pulled from her thoughts as Lucanis reached the ledge of the building they were on top of, the Cantori Diamond was in sight. He looked around, finding a spot where they wouldn’t be seen, and then looked down at Rook.

“Ready?” Lucanis made eye contact with her as she nodded and then turned her face toward his chest, intent on not looking down. It was one thing to take a zipline, and another thing to rely on a demon to fly you safely across a four story drop. Lucanis leapt from the rooftop, and Rook squeezed her eyes shut as the force of Spite’s wings propelled them forward, not opening them again until she felt Lucanis land. 

She opened her eyes slowly, and raised them to find Lucanis peering down at her intently. “Are you alright?” He asked her as his eyes travelled from her bloodied face, to her torn armor above her wound, and finally back up to her eyes. Rook felt paralyzed by his stare, incapable of lying to him in that moment. She was too tired, too hurt, and too far past the point of caring.

“No. But I will be, I just need to finish this.”

She allowed Lucanis to set her gently on her feet, and he took up his prior position as a pillar of support as he guided her to the eluvian, where Davrin and Assan were waiting.

"Alright, one down, one to go.” Rook feigned a positive attitude with Davrin. She was past the point of pretending with Lucanis, but that didn’t extend to the rest of the team. Especially not it’s newest member.

“Do you guys set up a dragon attack to break in all of your new allies, or just me?” Davrin grinned at her, and she laughed softly, followed by an immediate wince of pain.

“I guess you must be special.” She quipped, and the four of them stepped back through the eluvian together, bound for Dock Town.

Chapter Text

Minrathous was far worse than they could have imagined. The dragon was already gone when they arrived, and the devastation it had wrought was astonishing. The Venatori had already taken hold across the city, and Dock Town was ravaged by Blight. They found Neve not far from the Shadow Dragon hideout, in the company of Tarquin and The Viper. 

She turned to greet them, her eyes darkening with concern when she saw Rook. “Rook! You look like you’ve been through hell as well, what’s the situation in Treviso?” Lucanis helped ease Rook into a sitting position as Neve approached, and Davrin took off towards Harding and Bellara, where they were assisting numerous wounded parties.

“Fought the dragon off, couldn’t kill it though. Treviso will recover. I’d hoped I could still get here in time to help with yours… I’m so sorry, Neve.” Rook dropped her eyes to the floor as she spoke, and Lucanis watched as she swallowed hard, fighting back tears it seemed. 

Neve sighed, shaking her head. “No, no. Rook it’s… well, it isn’t fine. But I don’t know that it would have been any better with you here. We might have lost both cities, there’s no way to know now.” Neve placed her hands on her hips and glanced back towards Ashur, The Viper, where he lay on a makeshift medical bed. “The Venatori had a clear shot at the palace while we faced a dragon we could barely hurt. The Viper drew it away from a safe house,” Neve took a shaky breath as she filled them in, “… And took a claw to the gut as thanks. A healer could treat the wound, but the Blight’s already in him.” Neve’s eyes slid down to Rook’s side, where her blood had started to dry against her armor. “Looks like you didn’t get out unscathed, but you’re not Blighted. We can call that a win.”

Lucanis looked over at The Viper, who was listening to them talk through eyes glazed with pain. The telltale darkening around his eyes and the paleness of his skin indicated that Blight sickness was already taking it’s toll. His stomach dropped uncomfortably as the gravity of Rook’s near miss dawned on him. “Davrin is a Grey Warden, we should have him take a look. There could be something-” The Viper cut Rook off as she spoke, his voice tired but not unkind.

“I know of magic that will slow the corruption. That’ll give me some time.” 

“This is all you,” Tarquin spoke suddenly, rising from where he sat beside The Viper, his voice shaking with barely contained rage as he stalked towards Rook. “The risen gods. The Blight. The dragon!” He raised his voice at her as he hurled accusations, and Lucanis felt his own temper flaring as Spite sneered at the perceived threat. “Now the city’s lost to the Venatori-” Lucanis stepped out in front of Rook, halting Tarquin’s advance with a snarl.

“That’s enough, back off.” He held Tarquin’s gaze, daring him to continue. The rest of the team had looked over at the sound of their raised voices, and began to file back in. “What’s going on, you okay Rook?” Harding tried to peer around Lucanis and Tarquin, her view obscured by her short stature and the crowd of people. 

“Tensions are a little high,” Neve interjected smoothly, but her eyes flashed with anger at Tarquin, and he slunk back to The Viper’s side as she spoke. “You should go for now,” She nodded to Lucanis, eyes flickering to where Rook sat in uncharacteristic silence, “I need to be here a while, see to things. And you should take Rook back to the lighthouse, get her patched up.” 

Lucanis nodded his assent, he didn’t need to be told twice. He passed off their remaining potions to Harding before he ushered Rook out, she hadn’t said a word since Tarquin’s outburst. Should have KILLED. The bearded one. Spite was still seething and snapping at Lucanis, unable to grasp the concept of restraint or basic social reasoning.

Lucanis didn’t bother asking for Rook’s permission as he swept her up into his arms again as they passed through the eluvian into the Crossroads. She must have been much too tired to care, and she remained curiously quiet, barely reacting to him. Lucanis left her to her thoughts, taking the opportunity to settle his own racing mind.

He couldn’t help but feel they had gotten enormously lucky. Treviso would recover, and while Rook’s wounds were serious, she would heal. At least, physically. The day had stretched on for too long, too much had happened since they’d gone to meet the Wardens just that morning. The loss of the griffons, two Blighted dragons and the terrible choice that had fallen to Rook, Viago’s fury, Tarquin’s biting blame. Lucanis could barely believe she had pulled through it all.

When he reached the Caretaker’s boat, dutifully waiting at the dock for them, he stepped in with Rook gingerly, and settled her on the bench next to him as the Caretaker pushed off. Rook leaned into him heavily, and he looked down in surprise as she settled flush against the side of him.

“Thank you. For everything, I don’t know how I would’ve…” Rook spoke softly, closing her eyes as she did. “It would have been so much worse, without you. Harding and Varric were the only ones, for so long… It’s good to have somebody else I can rely on.”

Lucanis felt his heart ache once more at the state of her, vulnerable with him in the way he’d come to enjoy, but also terribly sad. He was suddenly terrified that she might crumble underneath it all, the sheer weight of everything.

How had this fallen to her, how had she managed to find herself in such a position? She was a natural leader, she certainly possessed a keen mind, a borderline frightening aptitude for combat that he hadn’t ever witnessed before. But that wasn’t all she was. She was also gentle, observant for the sake of genuine kindness, not just disarming a mark.

She was selfless when it came to the team, offering her time, her skills, her heart for anything they required. And here she was, thanking him for dragging her back to base after he'd failed to watch her back.

He had pressured her when he learned of the dragon attacking Treviso, even knowing, deep down, she would be there. She never would have left her home to burn, left the Crows to flounder alone against a dragon. And still, he had fallen into old habits, taken advantage of her trust to press his advantage over Neve.

“I’m sorry, Rook. I don’t deserve…” He shook his head, searching for the words even as Spite protested against him. “I was cruel, earlier. I should have let you make your choice without adding my feelings into the mix.” She tilted her head up towards him, opening her eyes again to regard him. 

“Oh, Lucanis, that’s not… I don’t blame you for that, I would never.” Rook considered for a moment before continuing. “You know, I’m still getting used to being on a team, leading one. I worked alone mostly, before Viago sent me out with Varric.” She straightened slightly as the Caretaker approached the dock leading back to the lighthouse, and Lucanis shifted in response, preparing to help her out. “I know… you’ve been alone for a while too. It takes time, learning how to care about people, and how to let them care about you.” 

She paused when Lucanis hefted her out of the boat, looking embarrassed again. “You don’t have to keep-” He interrupted her, tightening his grip as he started to walk. “You're not heavy, and... I want to.” She flushed even brighter at that, and Lucanis felt that familiar rush of heat straight into his stomach. He was suddenly keenly aware of the feel of her body in his arms, the swell of her thigh against his palm. Her voice broke him out of his momentary distraction.

“Well… anyway. What I’m trying to say is, you’re supposed to share how you feel with the people who care about you. It’s no burden, at least not to me.” She finished quietly, and Lucanis was struck by how she had ended up comforting him, when providing comfort to her had been his intention. 

They fell into silence as they passed through the eluvian back into the lighthouse, and he headed up the stairs into the library. He was turning towards the next stairwell that would take them to the infirmary, when his name on Rook's lips caught his attention. “Could we… could you just take me to my room? I don’t really want to deal with anyone else tonight.” A fair request. Lucanis had no idea when the others might arrive and likely file into the infirmary to tend any of their own bumps and bruises or retrieve supplies. He had a feeling he would need to stitch the wound under Rook’s armor, based on the amount of blood, and it would likely take some time. 

He turned up the other stairway and headed to her quarters instead. He realized he had never actually visited her there, and had no idea what her room even looked like within. He pushed the door open with his back, and soft blue light spilled over them. There was a massive window at the end of the room, revealing a lightly-glowing tank of water filled with fish. The room was fairly spacious, and sparsely adorned with a wardrobe, a few bookshelves, and a large chaise lounge in the center of the room facing the fish tank wall. 

He moved towards the lounge and saw a small pile of blankets, half folded but mostly piled on the floor. There were also a few differently shaped pillows scattered about, and he settled Rook carefully on the lounge before shuffling the mess off to one side. He wasn’t sure what he had expected her room to be, or if he’d had any expectations at all. The space was both entirely out of the realm of reasonable guesses, yet somehow still so painfully her that he almost laughed.

“I’ll go get what we need from the infirmary. Is there anything specific you want me to bring back, are you hungry?” He stepped back as he spoke, examining her where she sat. She shook her head, and smiled genuinely for the first time since before the dragon attacks. “No, I’m fine. Thank you Lucanis.”

Lucanis had to stop himself from running to the infirmary as he left Rook’s room, he was so desperate to get back to her. He rummaged through their collection of herbs and potions, then gathered several rags, a basin of water, and a needle with suturing thread. He gathered everything into a small bag, save the basin of water, and started back towards Rook’s room before pausing in the hallway. 

He set his things down, and decided to take a detour back to his pantry. He hurried across the courtyard, and changed quickly out of his armor into his casual wear, before making his way back to the hallway leading to Rook’s quarters. He didn't want to be tending wounds in his armor, or dirtying her things.

She had moved around a bit in the short time that he had left her, sitting back further on the lounge, with her legs crossed underneath her. She’d pulled off her boots, and was currently struggling with the outer straps of her worn leather armor. Lucanis settled his collection of items on a nearby table, and settled beside her to assist with the removal of her many layers.

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Modesty was a concept most Crows learned to forgo in favor of practicality, and Rook was no different in this respect. She seemed completely un-phased as Lucanis stripped her of her first layer, and got started immediately on the second. He dropped her outer trappings to the floor, and wrinkled his nose at the poor quality of their construction. The armor had clearly already been patched and repaired several times before. “You need new leathers.” He stated plainly, and she scowled at him.

“I do not, I can fix them. I’ve done it before.” She protested, and he snorted in response.

“Yes, I can tell. You certainly didn’t miss your calling as a tailor.” She winced slightly while he tugged at her remaining armor, as it snagged against her wound where the blood had dried it to her skin. He stopped, hesitant to cause additional damage or pain. “It might be easier to just cut them off. I’ll treat you to something new.” She shook her head, defiant despite her exhaustion. 

“No, this is my favorite set. They fit the best, and I like the extra pockets.” Lucanis feigned consideration of her argument for a moment, leaning away to examine the armor as he slipped a hand into one of his own pockets. The moment she relaxed, he swiftly drew his knife and snipped through the fabric. “Hey!” She whacked at him, but the damage was done, and he had the armor halfway torn away already. She grumbled something about being ‘wasteful,’ but otherwise conceded defeat.

Rook was left sitting in her plain cotton breast band as he stripped away the last layer, and he motioned for her to lift her arm as he examined the exposed wound for the first time. The dragon’s tail spike had extended further than he initially thought, the singular gash flayed the flesh from the top of her ribs around her back all the way down towards her stomach. A flash of exposed bone was visible within the torn flesh and half-dried blood, it was a wonder she'd made it through the fight with this wound. She was also bruised deep purple, the color mottling her skin from her ribs up her back, blooming darkest over her shoulder blades. 

The Antaam commander. He remembered the initial blow she had taken during their trek across the city as he examined the bruise pattern. He realized she’d likely fractured several ribs over the course of their back to back conflicts, this would take several days to heal even with magic and potions at play, if not longer. He glanced back up at her face, eyes tracing the laceration along her hairline, dried blood still caking her left cheek and brow.

Rook gazed back at him, tracking his wandering eyes. She cocked her head, and lowered her arm again as she said, “Well? Think I’ll survive?”

He shook his head at her, unable to stop the smile creeping across his face.

“No. I’ll have to put you out of your misery, just like your poor leathers.” She sighed in mock sorrow, and he stood up to gather the water basin and cloth, grabbing a set of potions as he went.

Most Crows were trained in rudimentary first aid skills, at the bare minimum. Lucanis had always taken pride in his aptitude for anatomy, and could serve as a decently skilled medic when the need arose. His skills were most often put to use on Illario or himself, though. He had Rook lay flat on her stomach so he could access the bulk of the area he needed and got to work washing away blood and grime, scrubbing gently over her bloodied flesh. The bowl of water had turned a muddy shade of red by the time he was satisfied, and he moved it out of the way as he continued to work. 

He passed one potion to Rook, motioning for her to drink, and uncorked the other one over her open wound. His actions earned a hiss of pain from her, and Spite snarled in response. You. HURT. Her. 

Lucanis ignored both of them, absorbed in the task at hand. She shifted uncomfortably, and he placed a hand flat against her back, stilling her movements. “It will be numb soon and I can stitch it up, here and here.” He grazed his fingers lightly against the two widest areas of torn flesh. Rook gave him a light ‘mm,’ in response, and she rested her head in her arms, eyes closed again.

She must have been incredibly tired indeed, Lucanis mused, as Rook dozed off almost immediately. She barely stirred as he readied his needle and thread, and began the slow task of closing her wound. Spite seized the moment to manifest at the end of the couch, leaning his face over Rook’s as she slept. He examined the gash on her head, his nose almost touching her. You forget THIS one. Spite’s head snapped towards Lucanis as he spoke, and Lucanis spared him a glance.

“I am not forgetting,” He kept his tone soft and measured, not wanting to wake Rook, “But this one is more important. That one will be last.” Spite looked to where Lucanis’ fingers had stilled against Rook’s skin, and he slid down the couch to watch closely as he resumed his work. They were both silent for a moment, before Spite’s rasping voice came again. Let me. I want to TOUCH. Spite spread his fingers as he spoke, and waved them uselessly over the skin of Rook’s back.

Lucanis felt the telltale press of Spite as his visage wavered, evaporating to settle back within Lucanis. He pushed forward, and Lucanis snapped aloud. “No, you cannot. You’ll make it worse.” Rook stirred, turning to look blearily back over her shoulder. “Sorry, Rook. I am almost finished.” She blinked at him for a moment, as if trying to remember what he was doing.

“Were you… talking to Spite?” Rook asked him, propping herself up slightly as she did so. Lucanis nodded he reached for a roll of bandages, preparing to cover the now cleaned and stitched skin. “What do you usually talk to him about?” Rook asked, curiosity had cleared the remainder of sleep’s haze from her eyes.

Lucanis sighed heavily. “It isn’t as though we sit around chatting, like you and I. He doesn’t understand most things. We argue.” He felt Spite’s retaliatory growl, more than heard it. I UNDERSTAND. Lucanis does NOT. You HIDE.

Spite was visible again, pressing himself into Lucanis’ side as he spoke. 

“Oh, I see.” Rook shifted again as Lucanis finished securing the bandage, pushing herself back into a seated position.

Lucanis reached a hand out to Rook’s face, and she sat very still as he brushed his fingers along her final injury, assessing the damage. It didn’t need stitches, the potion she had taken on the field was administered quickly enough to handle the worst of it. He only needed to clean it up. He leaned back and grabbed the last clean rag, dipping one corner of it into the bloody water basin. 

Rook scooted closer along the lounge, watching him with her familiar intensity. Lucanis placed one hand along her jaw, tilting her face towards the light, and went to work dabbing along her forehead and cheek with the cloth in his other hand. “It must be difficult, for both of you.” Rook spoke suddenly, and Lucanis paused, frowning.

“I… what do you mean?” He was puzzled by her statement, it made no sense. Spite had detached himself from Lucanis’ hip to slip around the back of Rook, perching closely behind her, similar to the way he had that day in the kitchen. The memory of how the demon had inhaled her scent brought heat to Lucanis’ face, especially as she sat on almost full display for him. He forced himself to keep his eyes on her face.

“Well, I know it’s hard for you,” Rook continued, leaning away from Lucanis as he dropped his hands back down to his lap. “I just mean… well, Spite really only has you to talk to. And everything must feel very new to him…” She trailed off slightly, a blush rising across her face as Lucanis stared at her. 

Spite sighed into Rook’s shoulder, his fingers reaching around the front of her to fan out across her stomach, a perverse display of tenderness the she could neither see nor feel. 

“Mierda. Sympathy for a demon.” Lucanis shook his head, raising a hand to rub at his eyes.

“I’m sorry, that was-” Rook rushed to apologize, but Lucanis stopped her, cradling her face in his hands once more. He searched her eyes for a moment, and she leaned into him instinctively. This is a bad idea. Even as he thought it, Lucanis tilted her head back slightly, one hand sliding into her hair as his eyes dropped to her lips, and she watched and waited. Spite seemed to sense the shift between them, fading from view as he slithered back behind Lucanis’ eyes.

He held her there for a moment, teetering on the edge of desire and fear, unsure which would win out. Rook, true to form, cut straight through the haze of indecision, and leaned forward before Lucanis could lose his nerve, lightly brushing her lips against his.

Lucanis felt the dam burst, desire rushing through him at the contact, and he surged forward as Rook gasped. He held her steady as he deepened her initial hesitant kiss. He felt one of her hands come up against his chest, fingers tangling in his shirt, while the other came to rest along his jaw. Every point of contact sent new sparks of heat dancing across his skin and into his belly. 

Lucanis opened his eyes, leaning back slightly to examine her expression. She was delightfully flushed as her eyes rose to meet his, equal parts shy and eager. He leaned in again, any hint of restraint long gone as he parted her lips with his tongue, desperate to taste her. She responded to him beautifully, every little gasp and flex of her fingers against him spurring him to continue. She yelped suddenly as he pressed against her and he pulled back, startled.

He had backed her into the lounge without thinking, and she smiled apologetically at him as he remembered she was still freshly bruised and battered. “I…” His breath came hard as he tried to calm himself, Spite’s influence making it difficult to gather his thoughts. “I’m sorry, did I hurt you?” He finally managed. 

—

Rook felt dazed, almost drunk on the way he had touched her. She wasn’t sure she would have ever stopped him, had it not been for the sharp pain that radiated through her shoulders as he leaned her into the firm back of the lounge. He had pulled away instantly, and she realized belatedly that she had cried out. He hovered over her, asking if he’d hurt her, and she ached at the guilt evident in his eyes.

“No! Well, yes. But only a little bit at the end. The rest of it was…” She couldn’t look at him, embarrassment rising like a tidal wave inside of her.

“… Good?” Lucanis offered, and the hesitation in his voice grounded her. She didn’t want him to think she hadn’t liked it, or hadn’t wanted it, Maker forbid. 

She nodded, leaning forward suddenly to grasp at one of his hands. “Yes, good.” She reassured, finally meeting his eyes. He smiled, soft and warm as he slid his thumb across her knuckles. She took a deep breath, steadying herself. “I’ve never done anything like this. Is it always like that?” She asked him before she could lose her nerve, and she knew her cheeks must have been scarlet at that point. 

Lucanis let out a breathy chuckle, and her stomach fluttered as he lowered his head, shaking it slightly. “No,” he admitted, “It's not.” He caught her gaze again, and she loved the way the corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled at her. “I… should probably let you get your rest.” He sighed as he spoke, his eyes traveling downward as he studied her.

Rook was suddenly aware that she was only partially clothed, and while it was one thing to strip down and allow a comrade to stitch up a wound, this was now something else entirely. She glanced over at the wardrobe, and cleared her throat awkwardly as she asked, “Do you… think you could grab me a shirt?” Lucanis laughed again as he rose and made his way over to rummage through her clothes. He brought a folded set back to her, and she shimmied into the shirt first. She then got to work extracting herself from her leather trousers, now without matching chest armor thanks to Lucanis, and into her lounge pants. 

She was keenly aware of him watching her the entire time, leaned against one end of her lounge with his arms crossed in front of him. She hesitated for a moment, gathering her courage. “Would you like to stay? Here, I mean. With me.” She’d never felt so awkward in her life, how did anybody do this? 

Lucanis seemed so relaxed, so at ease even after… everything. He’s done this before. The thought was too uncomfortable to entertain for longer than a moment, and she pushed it aside. He moved to sit beside her again, and she felt entirely at his mercy as he took her hand in his once more. “I would, but you need to sleep. And I…” Lucanis’ eyes darkened slightly as he spoke, “I try to sleep very little, as you know.” Rook nodded, remembering his concerns about Spite.

The reminder of sleep had her feeling beset by sudden exhaustion, the brief burst of energy provided by her power nap all but spent. “Hm,” she stretched her legs out on the lounge, and settled herself gingerly onto her uninjured side, resting her head in Lucanis’ conveniently placed lap. “Then, don’t sleep if you don’t want.” Rook murmured against his leg, and she saw him raise his eyebrows out of the corner of her eye, “But you can stay, if you’d like. Make sure Solas doesn’t murder me in my dreams.” Rook was joking, mostly, but Lucanis made an indignant noise in response.

“I… can he do that?” He sounded a little unsure of himself. Rook closed her eyes as she felt Lucanis reach forward, the weight of a blanket settling over her moments later.

“I don’t know. Harding says he can, but usually we just trade insults until I wake up. Or, I have nightmares. Tonight, though, I have questions to ask him.” Lucanis remained silent in response, and made no move to get up. Rook focused on her breathing, clearing her mind as she drifted towards sleep. As the room around her faded and blurred with the haze of unconsciousness, she felt the familiar tingling at the back of her skull that meant Solas would be waiting for her.

Chapter Text

Lucanis watched Rook as she fell asleep, slower than the first time, but still faster than he might have anticipated. And then, something strange happened. The dull itch that always persisted at the back of his eyes in the lighthouse suddenly intensified into an ache as Rook’s breathing slowed. Her words rang in his ears, a flippant comment about Solas killing her while she dreamed. He knew very little about this connection she had to the Dread Wolf, although Neve had once told him it was steeped in blood magic. 

It was one thing to hear about it, to rationalize a necessary evil in order to maintain any advantage against the Evanuris. But it was another thing to witness, to feel the pull of it as Rook lay sleeping and vulnerable. And she had said something about nightmares, he didn’t think she’d mentioned that before. 

Spite stirred, and Lucanis turned to look at him, now sitting on the floor across from him and Rook. The demon cocked his head to the side, as he so often did, and sniffed at the air. The WOLF. Even Lucanis can feel it CIRCLING.

Spite often said strange things that made little sense, one of many irritations that Lucanis had come to accept during his time in the Ossuary. Lucanis usually ignored him, much to the demon’s ire, and his agitated rambling would often devolve into a tantrum or eventual silence. Now though, Lucanis couldn’t ignore Spite’s odd comment, the mention of a wolf was too convenient. “What do you mean by that?” 

Spite made an odd sound, something between a hiss and a sigh as he shot to his feet without warning, gesturing about the room.

Tied to a raft in the STORM. ROOK as an anchor. The demon spoke his nonsense in earnest, and Lucanis felt suddenly stupid for indulging him. He dropped his head back against the lounge, gazing upwards at the ceiling as he muttered, “Never mind.” 

Spite’s face, a cruel mirror image of his own, appeared above him. Spite had appeared around the back of the couch and now stood leaning over Lucanis, almost nose to nose with him. Lucanis said nothing, long past being rattled by Spite’s regular invasion of space. Lucanis NEVER listens. You only HIDE. Spite was scowling fiercely as he launched his accusations. Lucanis scowled right back, “You make no sense. How could I listen?” Spite reared back and Lucanis braced for impact, but it never came.

Spite stood frozen, his jaw working as he stared Lucanis down. That was new. The demon’s gaze flickered down to Lucanis’ lap, where Rook still lay sleeping, and he slunk back around the couch. He slumped down onto the floor, assuming his original position.

Rook will break the locks. Spite spat this triumphantly, as if it somehow proved a point, and turned from Lucanis to watch the fish.

Lucanis dropped his head back against the lounge again, and allowed himself the small luxury of running his fingers through Rook’s hair as she slept. She was warm against him, and the gentle weight of her in his lap had a soothing effect. He dozed lightly with her, never allowing himself to fully fall asleep, lest Spite take advantage. Lucanis wasn’t sure exactly how much time had passed, but it must have been at least a few hours when Rook awoke. Violently.

Lucanis had shifted slightly during the night, sliding further down in his seat, Rook still draped across his lap. He was in the midst of one of those comfortable moments of dozing when he felt a notable change in Rook’s breathing. Her breath seemed to hitch in her chest for a moment, and Lucanis opened his eyes to peer down at her as she made a noise.

He had no time to try and wake her before she began thrashing against him, tangling herself in the blanket and nearly falling off the lounge as he grabbed for her. “Rook,” Lucanis tried to softly call her name as she gasped and fought, and he worried for a moment that she would tear her stitches. 

Her flailing slowed just as Lucanis was preparing to try holding her down, but her eyes were still wild as she caught her breath. He stayed very still, cautious of startling her as she slowly adjusted back to consciousness. She sighed, and some of the tension left her as she eased into a sitting position. She closed her eyes for a moment and Lucanis took the opportunity to straighten himself, adjusting his shirt and running his fingers through his hair.

“Sorry.” Rook murmured an apology, and somehow, he thought she looked more tired than when she’d gone to sleep. “Sometimes I think he does that on purpose, he’s such a dick.” She winced slightly as she leaned forward with her elbows on her knees, glancing down at the outline of the bandage under her shirt.

“Does what?” Lucanis asked, a bit lost as to what had just happened.

“When we’re finished talking, and I start to wake up, he… it…” Rook struggled for a moment, tossing her hands up in defeat. “I don’t know. It kind of feels like drowning. But also being on fire.” 

He frowned at her admission, she was undoubtedly describing the effects of blood magic, whether or not she knew it. “Does that always happen?” Rook shook her head at his question.

“No, not every night. Only when we talk, it’s… different.” She tensed again as she spoke, and hesitated for a moment before continuing. “Can you not tell the others? I don’t want Harding to worry.” 

Lucanis realized then that she had trusted him with something when she’d offered for him to stay. Or maybe she knew what was coming, and simply didn’t wish to be alone when she woke. Either way, his stomach flipped at the closeness of her, at how she’d sought comfort in him. “Of course.” He was too eager to reassure her, to prove to both her and himself that her faith wasn’t misplaced. 

As the clamor of Rook’s initial return to wakefulness subsided, Lucanis felt the giddiness of the prior night’s events return. Treviso was safe. He’d kissed her. She’d kissed him back, invited him to stay the night. He was smiling before he could stop himself, and Rook tilted her head as she asked, “What?” He raised a hand to her face in response, trailing his thumb lightly over her lips. “This,” He murmured, and he leaned in to kiss her again, relishing the way she melted into him. 

He maintained control of himself this time, keeping the kiss soft, nearly chaste after the previous night’s frenzied passion. Her eyes never left him as he pulled away, and the way she looked at him was almost enough to unravel his careful composure. “Oh, that.” She made an attempt at her usual levity, but the flush of her cheeks and inability to meet his eyes gave her away.

She sighed then, and he saw some of the tension and sadness from the prior day seep back into her. “I wish we could stay here.” Her voice was soft, her eyes distant as she spoke. “But, I need to gather the rest of the team… figure out what comes next. Solas had some recommendations.” She made to stand up, and Lucanis moved with her, watching to ensure that she would be stable on her feet. She was moving stiffly, in obvious pain, but otherwise remained steady as Lucanis followed her to the door.

He considered asking her more about her discussion with Solas, before opting to wait and hear about it with the rest of the team. Instead, he fell in line beside her as they headed down the hallway. “I don’t think Tarquin meant what he said to you yesterday. Or Viago, for that matter.” Rook kept her eyes down as he spoke, and they took the stairs slowly as she winced.

“It doesn’t matter what I do, Viago will always find something to be cross with me about.” She spoke bitterly, skirting around her grief by leaning into the anger instead. “And Tarquin…” She practically wilted as they walked, and Lucanis worried for a moment that she might start crying. “Well, he was right. This is my fault, all of it. I’m the one making these choices and-” Lucanis interrupted her with a firm hand on her shoulder, pulling her to a stop halfway across the courtyard. 

“This is not your fault, Rook. These are uncharted waters. Nobody can blame you for the outcome of a call they didn’t have to make.” Lucanis spoke fiercely, determined to make her see reason.

“He’s right, you know.” Harding’s voice pulled their attention away from one another, and they both turned to look as she made her way over to them. She must have emerged from her greenhouse shortly after they exited the library without their notice.

“Harding,” Rook breathed her name, moving as quickly as her injuries would allow as she rushed to meet the dwarf. She gripped Harding’s hands in her own, scanning her for injuries as she did. Harding grinned up at her, and Lucanis watched their reunion warmly.

“Looks like I got out of this one a lot better off than you did.” Harding observed Rook’s face, releasing her hands as they resumed their walk to the kitchen as a group. “I heard from Davrin that you took a beating.” Rook scoffed, her mood had brightened a bit with Harding’s arrival.

“Only because I was already tired.” She griped, and Harding laughed.

“Or maybe you’ve gotten too accustomed to me babysitting you.” Lucanis grinned at that, nodding his assent as he chimed in.

“It’s definitely harder to keep her out of trouble without you around.” Rook rolled her eyes at both of them as they teased her, but she was smiling again as they entered the kitchen.

Lucanis got to work brewing coffee, and then entered his pantry to collect ingredients for breakfast as Harding and Rook took their usual seats at the table. Rook was filling Harding in on the prior day’s events, from Davrin’s recruitment to their fights against the Antaam and the dragon in the streets of Treviso. Bellara filed into the kitchen not long after them, stopping briefly by the stove to peer over Lucanis’ shoulder as he cooked.

“Ooh, what’s that? It smells incredible.” Lucanis turned slightly so Bellara could watch as he carefully seasoned the eggs in the skillet. “Frittata, with mushrooms and tomatoes. But, you can make it with all kinds of things.” He couldn’t help the swell of pride as he showed off his dish. “It should be ready shortly.” Bellara nodded, wide eyed, and he promised he would write up the recipe for her later before she moved to join Harding and Rook at the table.

Lucanis heard the door open again and looked up to greet Neve, only to be startled by Davrin’s appearance, suddenly remembering that Neve was still in Minrathous. He glanced at Rook as he began fixing five plates, she looked better in the company of the team, less sad. He pondered whether her confidence and easy chatter was genuine, born of their company, or if it was a defense she donned like her armor. He wondered, not for the first time, if she only dropped the ruse with him, and felt the persistent pang of anxiety that she was shouldering too much all on her own.

He balanced three plates on one arm, two on the other, and deposited meals in front of each seated companion, before setting his own plate at the empty chair beside Rook. The women thanked him enthusiastically, while Davrin glanced at the meal skeptically. He turned then to pour himself a cup of coffee, unbothered by Davrin’s suspicion, and settled himself at the table.

—

The pleasant breakfast chatter subsided and everyone’s eyes slowly came to rest on Rook. The air felt heavy with expectation, and Neve’s absence weighed on Rook as she addressed the table. “I spoke with Solas last night, filled him in on the details of what happened with Treviso and Minrathous.” Rook started, and she felt the uncomfortable shifting around her at the mention of Solas. 

Rook’s chats with him were never pleasant, per se. He irked her, as she imagined she did him as well. Exchanging information with Solas was like a dance, and she had to constantly watch her step. Give just enough for him to work with, so that he could give her something to work with in turn. Don’t give him too much, or he would use it to gain the upper hand against her. 

If that wasn’t enough to make their interactions stressful, they also plain got on each other’s nerves. Rook thought Solas was stubborn and arrogant, and she was often unable to contain her temper as he wallowed in his own righteousness and self-pity. If she pressed the right buttons, Solas would snap right back at her, and they would lob insults and accusations until they circled back to the point at hand. She couldn’t imagine what Varric had ever seen in him, what could have possibly led to such loyalty, but she was also never entirely sure what he’d seen in her. She couldn’t fault him for his good heart, and strived to live up to his expectations.

“Solas maintains that he can only offer limited help from within the Fade, but we need a mage well-versed in Fade magic if we’re to stand a chance against the gods moving forward.” Rook doled out Solas’ advice, interlaid with her own conclusions from their discussion. “He also seems to think our trouble with dragons is only just beginning. We can’t face down one of these blighted dragons again unprepared, we suffered heavy losses yesterday,” Rook saw Bellara’s eyes flick to Neve’s empty spot at the table, “And I’m not going to knowingly send any of you out to die in a fight you can’t win.” Rook’s determination flared within her, she would get them through this if it was the last thing she ever did, Solas be damned. 

“So, this elven god thinks we need a dragon hunter and a Fade expert?” Lucanis spoke first, leaning back into his chair as he absent-mindedly swirled his mug of coffee.

“He’s right, about the dragon hunter at least. The Shadow Dragons did all they could.” Harding looked pointedly at Rook, her eyes flicking over her visible injuries. “The dragon was just too much. The moment the dust settled? The Venatori rushed in.” Harding sighed and slumped onto her elbows against the table.

“Guess they knew it was coming.” Bellara added gloomily. “Neve’s staying for now, she said she’ll be back soon. But… at least you took care of yours.” Rook frowned at Bellara’s words, she was wrong.

“We hurt it, but didn’t kill it. The dragon flew off before we could put it down.” Not that I would have been able to, with how the fight was going. Rook tried to shake off the guilt that was creeping back up inside of her. 

“Treviso could have used a dragon hunter, that much is true.” Lucanis caught Rook’s eyes as he spoke, and she couldn’t help but feel as though he saw straight through her false confidence into the heart of her lingering fears.

“Then we find one,” She forced herself to push onward, she couldn’t afford to break down now. “Next time a Blighted dragon comes calling, it’ll be the last time it comes calling.” She meant it with every fiber of her being. 

Lucanis nodded at her, and placed his mug down on the table. “We should not forget the second dragon in Minrathous. We ought to see what we can do to help. However…” He looked away from her, meeting Bellara’s watery gaze. “There is no telling how long Neve will be helping the Shadow Dragons with the aftermath.” 

“Hey, let’s not get stuck in our regrets, alright?” Varric’s voice surprised Rook, she hadn’t even seen him come in, and she spied him leaning against the wall by the door. She had no time to dwell on his arrival, as Davrin spoke up for the first time, almost cutting Varric off as he did.

“Hang on a minute.” Davrin was the only one who hadn’t touched his meal, and he slid the plate pointedly to the side as he leaned across the table to address Rook. “Not only have you retained the services of a demon assassin, you’re also taking advice from the elven god who attempted to tear down the Veil.” Rook felt the sharp spike of her temper, but Lucanis cut in before she had the chance.

“Spite is my problem.” He fixed Davrin with a steely glare, but the elf didn’t fold.

“That’s what they always say,” Davrin met Rook’s eyes again. “Rook, you’re clever, I’ll give you that. And you’re a beast in a fight, but are you sure you aren’t letting your Crow allegiances cloud your judgement?” The accusation hung between them for a moment, but Rook was again robbed of the opportunity to speak for herself.

“That’s ridiculous!” Harding had nearly risen out of her chair, her freckled cheeks tinged red with anger. “Rook would never let something like that get in the way of taking down the gods. She left everything for Varric and I, she’s risked everything!” Harding’s usually even tone had gone slightly shrill with emotion, and Rook knew she needed to rein this in, even as she caught Varric’s nod of approval from where he stood. Rook held a hand up to Harding, prompting her into silence.

“Alright. It’s alright.” She met Davrin’s gaze once more, Varric’s presence bolstering her slightly. I have to hold this team together for him. “Davrin, you’ve only just gotten here. I haven’t had the chance to prove myself to you. But, even if you can't trust my judgment yet, or Lucanis, you can trust the rest of this team. And, if you give me the opportunity, you’ll see you can trust me too.” She caught the flash of Varric’s grin and his quiet ‘knew you could do it, kid,’ as Davrin raised his hands in mock surrender.

“Fine, you’ve made your point. Still, Lucanis is one thing, but do you really trust this Solas?” Rook snorted at that, and the tension in the room ebbed as she responded, “Trust is… such a strong word, you know?”

Davrin raised his eyebrows slightly, the ghost of a smile on his lips as he clarified, “So you don’t trust him?”

“Ehhh.” Rook raised her hand, in a so-so motion, and caught the roll of Harding’s eyes as Davrin relented.

“So, we need a Fade expert and a dragon hunter…” Harding expertly steered the conversation back to the task at hand. They spent a few more minutes discussing next steps, settling on Harding spearheading the search for their dragon hunter, while Bellara excitedly volunteered herself to reach out to a Fade expert she had already been in contact with. 

“See, Rook?” Varric has made his way to the table, and was standing just behind her shoulder as he spoke. “Nothing to worry about.” He spoke softly, and she knew it was only meant for her ears as the rest of the team finished chatting over their meals. Davrin must have decided Lucanis wasn’t trying to poison him, as he had grabbed his plate again, digging in with the rest of them. I’ll have to keep an eye on the two of them. Rook was confident she had deescalated them for now, but she had no idea how long that fragile peace would last.

Chapter Text

Rook needed to speak with Varric alone, and she headed for the kitchen doors after helping Lucanis gather up their plates. He had looked at her curiously for a moment, and asked where she was going. She smiled at him. “Infirmary. I’ll meet you back here in a bit?” He returned her smile, and advised her that she should bring back a new roll of bandages, promising to re-dress her wound later.

She made her way to the infirmary, pausing to pet Assan enthusiastically, she’d been waiting to do that since she’d first seen him. It was slow going, especially when she reached the stairs in the library, and her ribs screamed in protest as she worked her aching muscles up the steps. When she finally reached the infirmary, she closed and locked the door behind her before moving into the room and flopping down into a bed beside Varric.

He raised his eyebrows at her. “Planning to spend the day napping in here with me and Bianca?” She laughed, even though it hurt, and her heart felt lighter just being in his presence. She missed being out in the field together, missed how easy it was to talk and joke with him. Varric had a way of making everything feel better. 

“I would never dream of encroaching on your alone time with your beloved crossbow. I don’t wanna see what you do with her in private.” She grinned as Varric let out a deep belly laugh, but then he winced and adjusted himself on his cot. She felt the familiar pang of guilt, but it was almost immediately soothed as Varric settled and said, “Well, kid? What’s on your mind?”

She sighed, the recent events had been hard on her. She felt lost in everything. “Viago and I got in a fight, after the dragon in Treviso.” She started slowly, gauging Varric’s expression as he listened. “He said… he didn’t care if I got myself killed. Practically dared me to do it.” Her eyes were burned as she spoke, she hadn’t had the chance to cry about it yet.

Varric sighed. “Shit, kid. I’m sorry. You know he didn’t mean that. From what I know, he’s just like that!” Varric motioned to her, and she moved to re-settle herself on the end of Varric’s bed as she sniffled. “Viago worries about you, Rook. He doesn’t know how to deal with it, so he gets mad. Then he flies off the handle and says something stupid.” Varric spoke as if he’d known Viago for years, and Rook always found herself believing him. It comforted her to have faith that Varric knew best, he would never lead her astray. She pulled her knees up to her chest as she allowed him to soothe her insecurities. “I’m sure he’s feeling terrible about it now, even if he won’t tell you. Now, I can’t help but feel like there’s more to this. It’s hardly the first time you and Viago have gotten into it.” She shook her head, he was right, as always.

“No it… Well, I wanted to talk to you about Lucanis also.” She felt the heat rising in her face before she’d even said anything incriminating. Varric’s wide grin made it even worse. 

“Oho, really? You know, writing romances never really was my strong suit but-” Rook groaned and dropped her face in her hands.

“Oh ew, stop. Just stop.” She begged him as he continued to chuckle at her expense. 

“He was there when Viago got all… Viago. And then he was… very sweet.” She was rambling slightly, and she waited for Varric to make fun of her again, but he didn’t. He was looking at her softly, waiting patiently for her to continue. “He took care of me when I needed it. And he’s just been so different than I might’ve expected. But I just…” She tossed her hands up, frustrated. “I have no idea what I’m doing. And I don’t know if I can give him what he needs, or wants, or…” She looked to Varric, desperate for answers to questions she didn’t know how to ask.

“Rook, when it comes to questions of ‘should I get involved with an abomination,’ normally my answer is ‘just don’t.’ But it sounds like, in this case, you might have a good thing going.” Rook listened intently as Varric spoke. “You’re young, everybody does something for the first time at some point or another. And, if he’s a good man, Lucanis already knows that. He’s not going to fault you for it. And if he does? Well,” Varric shrugged his shoulders, “He was never meant for you to begin with.”

Rook nearly started crying again, Varric’s words struck home. All she could do was nod and scrub at her eyes. “Now then, I assume you’re already familiar with the technical aspects of romance, otherwise I can recommend some very descriptive literature-”

“Ew!” She nearly gagged as Varric began chuckling again. “Ugh, gross. I’m leaving you with your crossbow, old man.” She swung her legs off the bed as Varric smiled around a yawn. 

“See you around, kid.”

—

Lucanis sat in his pantry, turning a letter over in his hands. Harding had brought it by shortly after breakfast, she’d made a run into the Crossroads with Bellara to collect some correspondence. He’d recognized Teia’s looping script on the envelope, and opened it almost immediately. She wanted to plan Caterina’s funeral. Teia didn’t want to keep delaying it, especially now that a dragon had attacked Treviso. Nobody knew what the next day would bring. 

She’d requested his presence back in Treviso as soon as possible. The very idea of planning his grandmother’s funeral was stomach churning, the finality of it felt like an admission of defeat, as childish as he knew the sentiment was. Spite hovered over his shoulder, watching him worry the edges of the paper. FUNERAL. What. Is? Spite questioned him, elongating the syllables as he tried the new word out. “What is ‘it,’ you mean.” Lucanis corrected him absentmindedly. YES. What. Is. IT? Spite repeated back to him.

Lucanis pondered the question. How would one explain a funeral to a demon? As he tried to formulate an answer, he heard the doors to the kitchen open and shut, Rook’s recognizable shuffling following shortly after. ROOK! Spite crowed, rushing to the pantry door where he could watch her come in. She knocked lightly before pushing it open, leaning in with a smile. “Are you decent?” She asked, and Lucanis smiled at her.

“Never.” She laughed at him as she entered, but Lucanis could see the telltale redness around her eyes, like that night in the Diamond after the Ossuary.

As she approached where he sat on his cot, he took her hand, tugging her down beside him. She had brought the bandages he requested, and he took them from her hands and placed them aside, examining her closely. She’d gotten defensive the last time he confronted her about crying and Lucanis didn’t want to upset her further, especially now that she seemed happier than she did that morning. Perhaps, she’d simply needed a little time alone. 

“I’m glad you’re here.” He murmured, and he really meant it. He picked up the letter again, and she glanced down at it.

“What’s that?” She asked, as he knew she would. He passed it to her, but she was waiting for him to tell her.

“A letter from Teia. She wants to meet.” He wasn’t sure how to ask for what he needed. FUNERAL. Bring her with us. Spite offered his unwelcome advice.

“Okay. You don’t seem… happy about that?” Rook took his hand, running her thumb over the back of his knuckles just as he had done to her last night.

“She wants to arrange Caterina’s funeral.” He said, and his voice sounded flat and hollow to his own ears.

“Oh.” Rook said after moment, and then she squeezed his hand in hers. “I’m so sorry Lucanis. Is there some way I can help?” She was looking at him earnestly, ready to do whatever he asked. He turned into her slightly, unsure what he was looking for, but Rook reacted instantly by pulling him into an embrace.

He stiffened at first, unsure of himself, before relaxing into her, burying his face in the crook of her neck. He could smell the subtle lavender fragrance of her hair this close, and he allowed his hands to come to rest around her waist as she held him. “Will you come with me? In case Spite gets out of hand.” He murmured his request into her hair, and he felt her nod against him.

“Of course I will, Lucanis.” She rubbed her palms against his back, soothing him like a child as he pulled her in tighter. He pulled away slowly, reluctant to relinquish her warmth. But she had brought bandages, there was a job to be done.

“How does it feel today?” Lucanis asked, gesturing to her side. Rook glanced down and shrugged.

“Terrible, but that’s not unexpected.”

Lucanis clicked his tongue, reaching for the bandages. “Let’s take a look and re-dress it then.”

“You just want to get me out of my shirt again.” She teased him, the pink in her cheeks betraying her. He grinned in response.

“Maybe.” And then he reached forward to unbutton her shirt, exposing her once more.

He stood up from the cot to kneel in front of her, examining the bandage. She’d bled more, there were a few spots where he could see red soaking through. Perhaps she did put stress on the stitches when she woke up. He got to work removing the soiled bandage, and was pleased to see that the wound was a good color and had remained clean. Her bruises were even darker now on the second day, but that was normal. He pressed his fingers along each rib, gauging her reaction. As he pressed against the one just above her laceration, she took a sharp breath, and he looked up at her face. “That hurts?” 

“No, it tickles. Yes, it damn well hurts.” Her tone was teasing, and Lucanis smiled. She seemed to be in much better spirits now than at the start of the day. Perhaps hashing things out with the team and getting a plan in place was all she needed. His smile faded as he remembered the conversation over breakfast.

“Davrin was out of line this morning, he shouldn’t have said what he did.”

Rook sighed a little. “I know, it was rude of him to call you a demon, he just hasn’t gotten to know you yet. He’ll come around, I’m sure of it. Harding did, after all.” Lucanis stared at her, she’d completely misinterpreted what he was referring to. 

“No, not that.” He leaned his chest into her knees as he re-bandaged her, careful not to secure it too tightly. “What he said about you. About your allegiances.” Rook was quiet as Lucanis finished, and he looked up at her expectantly.

“I don’t blame him for thinking that. It makes sense.” Rook shrugged a little bit as she spoke. Lucanis frowned, and the thought that had been plaguing him all day worked it’s way to the surface.

“I don’t want… I worry that being with me will make them think less of you.” He spoke just above a whisper, the words bitter on his tongue. Rook cupped his jaw in her hands, tilting his head back to look at her. Her eyes were serious, all hints of her earlier nonchalance gone.

“So let them.” Lucanis was taken aback by her intensity as she spoke. “People who want to think less of you always will. Whether it’s being a woman, an elf, a De Riva, a Crow,” Rook closed her eyes for a moment before continuing, “There will always be something. I’ve been told there are things that make me less my entire life. What’s one more to add to the list, if it makes me happy? Besides, I have a reputation for being a reckless idiot, and I plan to uphold that.” 

Lucanis was stunned. He could see it, when she spoke like that, the thing that everyone seemed to see. Determination, a stubbornness that made you believe she might just be able to tackle anything and win. She was still holding his face, staring at him as if she could will the doubt out of him. “You’re… incredible.” He murmured, and she dropped her hands from his cheeks in surprise as he rose up, kissing her fiercely. 

His entire life, Lucanis had done what was expected of him, what he was supposed to do. Everything had always been for Caterina, for Illario, for the job, for the Crows. Spite whispered within him. And what about. For us? 

Just this one thing. He slipped his hands under Rook’s legs, lifting her further back onto the bed as he knelt between her parted thighs. 

This one thing will be ours alone.

Chapter Text

Rook was momentarily startled by the swiftness with which Lucanis moved. He had been sitting on the floor in front of her, his forearms resting in her lap as she sat on the edge of the bed. Then he was kissing her, lifting and settling her back as he joined her on the bed. The cot wasn’t large, but neither were the two of them.

Her mind struggled to catch up with her body while Lucanis kissed her as if he intended he to consume her. His tongue flickered along her lips before roughly pressing into her mouth, pulling back after a moment to suck her bottom lip lightly between his teeth. Her blouse was still sitting open, and he pushed the fabric down over her shoulders and dropped it to the floor as he broke their kiss, allowing her a chance to breathe. Her skin tingled where he touched her, gooseflesh rising in the wake of his fingers.

“Lucanis,” She barely got his name out before she was gasping again as he placed one hand under her thigh and gently pulled, tipping her to lie lengthwise on the bed. He lowered her back to the cushions with surprising tenderness, careful of her injuries, before settling himself over the top of her with one knee between her legs. He resumed his bruising kisses, and as he propped himself up on one arm, his free hand began it’s exploration.

He trailed his fingers upwards, sliding along the curve of her hip and over her stomach. Rook whimpered into his mouth as his fingers slid up under the edge of her cotton breast band, and he traced the naked shape of her. He parted from her for a moment, lifting himself slightly as he met her eyes. “May I…?” His fingers hovered for a moment over the laces of her breast band, and she nodded vigorously, unable to form the right words. All she knew was that she was desperate to feel his hands against her.

He wasted no time, unlacing her with expert precision before tossing the fabric away. He began pressing soft kisses along her jaw as he palmed her breast, running his thumb over her nipple as she squirmed. She tried to squeeze her thighs together instinctively as he touched her, and he groaned against her as she came up against the resistance of his leg. That sound alone was enough to send her heart hammering even harder, her breath coming fast as heat pinpricked across her skin and pooled in her gut. Her back ached slightly as she lay on her bruised shoulder blades, but Lucanis’ makeshift bed was surprisingly soft, and what he was doing felt too good for her to care.

—

Lucanis could feel every little shift as Rook moved under him, reacting to his every touch. He lowered his lips from her jaw down to the crook of her neck and trailed his tongue all the way back up to the base of her ear. She whimpered and tilted her head slightly to grant him better access as he alternated between kissing and licking the sensitive skin just under her earlobe. He nipped at her gently, earning a sharp intake of breath from her, and then soothed the spot with his tongue once more. She had both hands knotted in his shirt, one at his chest pulling him closer, and the other wrapped around his back. 

She squirmed again as he massaged one of her exposed breasts, letting out a soft cry as he leaned down to slide his tongue over her nipple. She was delightfully sensitive, and he savored how she arched into him as he lightly sucked. The sound of her keening moans sent heat straight to his groin, and when one of her thighs brushed against his stiffening cock, he ground his hips forward in response. Lucanis peppered kisses in a lazy path upward between her breasts, working his way over her throat and back up to her jaw. 

“I do not deserve you,” He murmured against her cheek, and she shivered as he placed a gentle kiss just behind her earlobe before continuing, “But I want you.” As he spoke the words, he was dimly aware of Spite’s influence as the demon whispered his last phrase in unison with him. He crushed his lips against hers once more, swallowing her breathy moans as he stroked slow circles around her nipples with his thumbs. He slid his hands further down, careful to avoid her bandaged ribs, and hooked his thumbs under the band of her trousers.

She startled in response, breaking their kiss as she gasped, “Wait,” and she grabbed at his wrist with a shaking hand. Spite growled in protest as Lucanis stopped immediately, pulling back slightly to look at her. Her cheeks were rosy, her hair splayed on the pillow like a halo around her head. He observed the rise and fall of her chest as she caught her breath, his gaze sliding over her nipples still shining with his saliva, and up to her face to view the evidence of his fervent kisses in the swollen pink of her lips.

He leaned close to her, bringing his hands up to cup her face, as she had done with him just earlier. “Are you alright?” He watched her closely, searching her eyes for the answer. She nodded, but her hands were still trembling slightly as she placed them over his. 

“Yes, it’s just,” She paused for a moment, and he brushed his thumbs over her cheeks, “I’ve never done this, any of this.” Lucanis softened, suddenly seeing her clearly through the haze of desire. She was nervous, fidgety and shy, she could barely meet his eyes as she spoke. “I… don’t want to disappoint you. But, if we could wait, just a bit-”

“Rook.” He interrupted her and shifted up onto his hands, allowing her to prop herself up on her elbows as he moved back. “You are not disappointing me. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” She leaned into him, placing a quick kiss on his lips as he finished speaking.

“I do want to.” She sighed, and they were so close that Lucanis could feel the warmth of her breath ghosting over his beard as she did. “I want to be with you,”  a timid smile graced her lips as she spoke, “But I want it to be right. I don’t want to be broken and bandaged and…” She looked around pointedly then, “In a pantry.”

Lucanis laughed, and even the weight of Spite seemed to grow lighter inside of him. “All good points.” His mind was swimming with dangerous possibilities, dreams of romance that he’d long abandoned surfacing once more. Casual sex, carnal pleasure, that was nothing new. But this? With her? She was asking for more, and offering him something he’d never had. “When you are ready, and we make love,” Rook flushed deeply as he spoke, “It will not be in the pantry.” He promised, pulling her into his arms as he did.

She tucked her head under his chin, returning his embrace. He ran his fingers cautiously along her bare back, tracing raised scars that he hadn’t noticed before, hidden amongst the mottled bruising. She huffed slightly in his ear, and gently tugged at his shirt. “Why am I always the only one without a shirt?” 

Lucanis grinned into her hair, releasing her just enough for her to work her hands up between them, where she began fiddling with his vest. “Why do you have so many buttons and layers?” Rook muttered, and he chuckled as he reached up to help her. She pulled his vest off of him as he started on his undershirt, and she mimicked his earlier actions as his last button came undone.

She slipped her fingers under the fabric of his shirt, running her fingers along his skin as she pushed it down his shoulders. It was Lucanis’ turn to blush as she examined him, and he focused on not squirming under her wandering gaze. When she was satisfied, she pulled him towards her. He lowered her once more onto the cot, skin to skin this time as he kissed her, deep and purposeful. 

—

Rook ran her fingers experimentally down Lucanis’ back, and he flexed into her touch. She kept the pressure feather light as she raked her nails up his sides and he let out a low groan. Her own breath came sharply as he travelled down her body, escaping her roaming hands and pressing kisses against her collar bones as he went. She couldn’t stop the noise that escaped her when he dragged his tongue languidly between her breasts, all the way down to her belly button. 

She tangled her fingers in his hair as he kissed along her stomach, gripping the sheets in her other hand as he moved along her hip bones with agonizing tenderness. He paused for a moment, looking up at her from where he knelt.

Lucanis’ voice was low and rough with desire as he spoke. “There is pleasure to be had outside of making love, if you’ll indulge me.” Rook shivered at his words as his fingers hovered over the waist of her trousers, just as he had done with her breast band. She nodded, embarrassed yet desperate for him to continue.

She allowed him to ease her trousers down over her hips, then her thighs, and his fingers followed the fabric as he touched every inch of newly exposed flesh. He discarded them with the rest of her clothes and she lay bare before him, save her underwear. Her cheeks burned as he slid his fingers up the backs of her calves, spreading her legs with a hand on each knee, and settling himself between them. 

His lips were on her skin again in an instant, and she felt her breath hitch as he sucked at the sensitive skin just inside the bend of her knee, leaving a rosy bruise as he moved further up. His beard was soft against her, and she squirmed as the hair tickled her flesh when he placed reverent kisses against the inside of her thighs. He caught her eyes once more, holding her gaze as he drew nearer to where her legs came together, and she squeaked as he tugged her down the bed, an arm under each thigh.

—

“What are you…?” Rook’s unfinished question reached Lucanis’s ears as he approached his goal, a single slip of fabric between them. She’d propped herself up on her elbows again, and was peering down at him curiously. He felt a thrill run through him, knowing he would be the first to give her this pleasure. He intended to make it memorable.

“Trust me. Lie back,” he instructed her, and she settled herself against the cot once more. Lucanis didn’t miss Spite’s low rumble of pleasure as Rook obeyed his command, and he resolved to address that at a later time. He focused himself on the task at hand and wrapped his arms around the backs of her thighs, letting his hands come to rest against her hipbones, effectively securing her in place.

Lucanis spared one last glance up before he leaned in and ran his tongue against the thin fabric of her underwear, mapping the shape of her underneath. He dragged his tongue up slowly, savoring Rook’s sharp squeal and the bucking of her hips against him. He tightened his grip on her, keeping her still as he lapped at her, maintaining a slow and gentle pace. 

“Lucanis…” She whimpered his name, breathless and pleading. The cloth of her panties grew damp with a combination of his saliva and her arousal, and he briefly released her to undo the ties at each hip. He peeled the garment away and resumed his position in one swift motion. He could feel Rook shiver as his breath ghosted over her, now fully exposed. 

He dipped his tongue inside of her, and she let out a desperate whine as he licked her in a single broad stroke, spreading her wetness along her folds. He felt her trying to press her thighs together, and held her firmly against the bed as he placed an open-mouthed kiss against her clit, swirling his tongue in a measured circle around the small bundle of nerves.

Her hands flew downward, tangling in his hair, and he moaned into her as she trembled under him. He savored the heady flavor of her, his cock straining against his trousers at the thought that he was the only one to see her like this, to touch and to taste her.

OURS alone. Spite’s sentiment echoed in the back of his mind, the demon’s influence slowly soaking into his actions. He flicked the tip of his tongue over her clit before licking a trail back down to her entrance as she gasped, the pitch of her moans shifting higher.

He worked his tongue inside her, curling it upwards as he did. Her fingers tightened in his hair as she writhed against him, and he smiled into her, his own pleasure mounting with every reaction he pulled from her. He shifted slightly, moving one of his hands down to fondle himself while he kept her secure with the other. 

He placed several kisses on either side of her outer lips, and she shivered and tensed every time his lips brushed against her center. He continued to alternate between licking and sucking, working her into a desperate frenzy, before he would swap back to gentle brushes of his lips against her quivering skin. “Beautiful, Rook.” He growled against her, and Rook whimpered a soft “Please,” in response, a request he couldn’t refuse. 

He focused on her clit once more, starting with slow, deliberate strokes of his tongue. As her breathing quickened, so too did his pace, until she had unwound one of her hands from his hair, pressing insistently against his shoulder as her climax built. He was relentless, breathing hard against her as he increased the tempo of his hand on his cock in time with his mouth. 

Rook’s erotic moans and gasps nearly undid him as he brought her closer to release, mewling and pleading with him as she soaked his beard with the evidence of her arousal. Her fingers flexed against his shoulder as she gradually came apart underneath him, straining as he kept her firmly seated against his mouth. He knew she was teetering at the edge, and he tipped her over it when he sealed his lips over her clit and sucked.

Rook cried out, arching into him and calling his name as she came, and he continued to lap at her as she rode out her orgasm. His own release followed quickly after, expedited by the sound of his name on her lips and the wet heat of her cunt spasming against his face. Slowly, he drew back, settling her trembling legs down at either side of him as he moved back up to rest beside her. 

He was careful to keep his weight off of her, brushing a hand lightly against her bandages, confirming he’d kept her still enough to prevent any damage. Satisfied, he raised his hand to her face, stroking his thumb along her jaw as she turned into him. She was still catching her breath, and he stared unabashedly at the rise and fall of her bare chest, the light sheen of sweat on her skin. 

She placed a hand against his shoulder, running it over his back as she held him, and he met her eyes. Her expression was open and unguarded, her affection on full display, and he felt a wrenching in his chest knowing that it was all for him. “I’m sorry I pulled your hair.” Rook murmured, and she ran her fingers gently across his scalp in contrition. 

He smiled, and kissed her nose. “I liked it,” He purred in response, and she pressed her lips to his, sighing into his mouth. Lucanis was unsure how long they remained there for, holding each other in quiet contentment, before Rook shifted slightly, offering an apologetic smile as she spoke.

“Um… can I sit up? My back really hurts.” He hurried to push himself up, pulling her with him as he did, and she rolled her shoulders experimentally.

“You alright?” He peered around the back of her, as though he would be able to see the ache under the bruises. She caught his cheek in her palm, tilting his face towards hers. 

“Better than okay.” She assured him, her eyes sparkling with fondness. He turned his face into her hand and planted a kiss against her palm, before leaning down to collect her discarded clothes. He helped re-dress her, slow and deliberate, and then followed suit with his own shirt and vest. 

“When do you want to head back to Treviso?” Rook asked him once she was fully clothed again, sitting comfortably against him on the cot.

Lucanis considered for a moment before responding, “We can go in three days time, if you’re up to it.” Rook nodded, and assured him she would be. “Perhaps we can get you that new set of armor, too.” 

“Maybe. I’ll also need to talk to Viago while we’re there.” She frowned a little bit. “Speaking of,” Rook hesitated for a moment before continuing, “Let’s maybe not let him know we’re… close. He’ll be weird about it.”

Lucanis raised his eyebrows a bit. “Oh? How do you know that?” He got the distinct impression she was speaking from experience. She shrugged, fiddling with the hem of her shirt.

“He gets a bit antsy about me associating with Crows from other houses,” Rook muttered her next words under her breath, “Especially after my initiation, Maker, that was a disaster.”

If Lucanis hadn’t been interested before, he most certainly was now. “Really? What happened?” He stood up, pulling Rook to her feet alongside him as he did. He took her hand, leading her out of the pantry and back into the kitchen to brew himself a fresh pot of coffee.

Rook leaned against the kitchen table and simply stated, “It’s a long story. I had a lot to drink, it went poorly.” 

“Mm, you’ll have to tell it to me sometime.” He moved to join her once more, mug of coffee in hand. She smiled at him, and he knew he would never tire of seeing it.

“Sure, one of these nights. I’ll tell you the bits I remember, at least. The rest is all Viago’s version of events.” They were both laughing when the kitchen doors opened behind them, and Bellara appeared.

“Oh, Rook! Lucanis, hey!” She greeted them cheerily as she made her way inside. “It’s my turn to cook dinner tonight, I was just about to get started.” Bellara was oblivious to Lucanis winking at Rook behind her back as she made her way into the pantry, and he responded lightly, “I may have already spoiled my appetite.” Rook blushed fiercely, slapping him playfully on the arm as Bellara shuffled about, saying something about ‘preparing a light dish in that case.’

Chapter Text

Misty rain was falling in Treviso when Rook and Lucanis arrived, and they hurried into the dry warmth of the Cantori Diamond. Rook was glad for the jacket she wore over her travel-wear, having opted against her old mercenary leathers upon seeing Lucanis’ face when she pulled them out. “New armor. Today. First priority after the funeral planning.” He had all but buried the old armor in her wardrobe as he spoke, and she rolled her eyes even as she agreed. Now, as they shook the water from their boots just inside the Diamond, her padded coat felt like a blessing. 

She allowed Lucanis to lead the way, following him dutifully as he navigated through the Diamond until they caught sight of Teia, already engaged in conversation with Illario in the lounge. Rook tensed slightly at the sight of Illario, their last meeting and his unwelcome advances still fresh in her memory. 

Physical gestures of affection and touchy-feely greetings were not uncommon in Antiva, but Rook had grown up in Viago’s home. She was arguably sheltered under his strict watch, and displays of affection between the two of them had always been rare and private when they did occur. As a result, she struggled with the boundaries of what she should expect or reject, and was generally uncomfortable being touched by those outside her inner circle.

Teia caught sight of them as they approached, smiling broadly as she stood in welcome. “Good! You’re here, our local heroes grace us with their presence.” Teia looked over Rook as she asked, “How are you feeling, your injuries were not too severe?” Rook smiled politely as she shook her head.

“I'm recovering, thank you. I’m here for Lucanis today.” Lucanis smiled softly at her, before addressing Teia.

“Thank you for making the arrangements, Teia.” His tone was sincere, and Rook felt a deep pang of sympathy for the position he’d found himself in.

“For Caterina…” Teia’s voice wavered slightly, “How could I do otherwise? I’m so sorry, Lucanis. This must be such a blow.” Teia turned back to Rook, taking one of her hands in hers. “Rook, thank you for coming with him, you’re a good girl. I need one Dellamorte to plan this.” Teia glanced back at Illario, who had come to stand beside her as she spoke. “His cousin has been no help at all.” 

Illario’s brows were knitted together, his face a mask of grief and stress as he spoke. “I’m sorry, Teia. This is just… Too much right now.” He seemed to struggle even getting the words out, and Rook felt a trickle of guilt. Lucanis loved Illario, that was clear. He’d only ever been kind to her, yet she’d allowed her own reservations about his behavior at the cafe to color her judgement. She resolved to try harder, for Lucanis’ sake if nothing else.

“If there’s anything I can do, just say the word.” Rook addressed Teia as she spoke, but her words were meant for Lucanis and Illario as well. She felt Lucanis’ gaze on her, and was briefly warmed by the tenderness she caught within his eyes.

“You’re always such a dear.” Teia fussed lightly over Rook, tucking errant strands of hair behind her ears as she spoke. “You certainly didn’t learn that from Viago.” Rook blushed under Teia’s crooning, and Lucanis scoffed lightly from beside her.

“Teia. Don’t flirt with my-” Lucanis suddenly seemed to remember Rook’s prior warning about revealing the details of their relationship as he spoke, “… Colleague.” Illario’s eyebrows shot upwards as Teia clicked her tongue.

“Jealous? I’ll have you know that I’ve known Rook since she was a plucky little fledgling.” Teia punctuated her words with a playful tug on Rook’s arm, and slipped an arm around her waist. “I’ve more claim to her than you!” Rook grinned as Lucanis’ eyes followed Teia’s hand on her hip, a smile working it’s way across his lips as he raised his hands in mock surrender. Satisfied, Teia released Rook with a nod, and sighed. “To business, then.”

The mood shifted as Teia motioned for all of them to sit around a table. “There’s a lot to plan. But first, I need the ashes.” Teia looked pointedly at Illario as she spoke.

He looked like a nug caught in a bear trap as he responded, “Ashes?” Rook winced slightly at Teia’s palpable irritation. 

“Maker help us, yes, the ashes! Caterina’s ashes. From the cremation?” She was staring at Illario and tapping her foot, and Rook resisted the urge to try and rescue Illario from her ire, lest she make it even worse.

“Oh. Yes. Of course.” Illario’s cheeks had gone slightly red under Teia’s scolding. “I’ll get them to you right away.” He hurried to reassure her, his forced confidence only enhancing the awkwardness of the interaction. Rook felt badly for him, and her sympathy only increased as Lucanis spoke up.

“Illario… what happened?” Lucanis spoke softly, but Rook recognized the dangerous undercurrent of something else in his tone. Illario frowned at his cousin.

“What do you mean?” His guard was up, Rook could see him tensing under Lucanis’ scrutiny. 

“Caterina. How…?” Lucanis shifted forward, and Rook saw the same authoritative air that he’d had when they arrived back from the Ossuary settle over him. “How did the Venatori get to her? When? Where? In the estate? In the city?” He fired questions one after another, and Illario shrank back slightly.

Rook was suddenly and uncomfortably reminded of Viago’s lectures as Lucanis spoke. She knew what it felt like to be on the receiving end of those scoldings, to feel the sting of familial disappointment with no choice but to sit and take it. Lucanis was still speaking. “How did they get past our people? What did they use? Poison? Blades? I need to know.” Lucanis’ last words lost a bit of their edge, just enough for Rook to feel his desperation creeping in, and for Illario to recover.

“Cousin, stop.” Rook watched warily as Illario attempted to ease Lucanis’ rising frustration. “You can’t dwell on this. It’ll drive you mad.” 

“I’m not dwelling. Zara killed the First Talon. I have to know how if I’m going to stop her.” Lucanis’ voice had regained it’s sharpness, his expression as hard as his words.

“I told you. I’m handling it.” Illario crossed his arms over his chest, looking away from Lucanis as he did. Rook had felt the annoyance radiating off of Teia from the start of this conversation, and hadn’t failed to notice her rising temper in the set of her mouth and the twitch of her fingers. She’d seen Teia get into it with Viago enough times to read her mood.

“Boys!” Teia’s clipped tone caused all three of them to flinch. “Enough of this. We have other things to discuss.” 

“My apologies, Andarateia.” Illario rushed to apologize. “Continue without me. I’ll… get you the ashes.” He moved to stand, clearly ready to escape Lucanis’ harsh questioning and Teia’s ire.

“Not so fast,” Teia stopped him, her words still hard. “Take Rook with you, somebody has to make sure those ashes actually get back here.” Rook’s eyes widened slightly as she opened her mouth to protest, but Teia stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. “I will tell Vi that I’ve sent you on an errand. Now, go.” Her tone left no room for argument, and Rook shuffled out of the booth after Illario. 

— 

Lucanis watched as Rook rose from the booth, clearly as displeased with the situation as he was. Still, she smiled politely at Illario as she joined him, and Lucanis’ stomach twisted as Illario placed a hand at the small of her back, guiding her out of the Diamond. Spite snarled, his incorporeal form following her until he could go no further. Lucanis turned to Teia once they were gone, frowning as he did. “You should not have sent Rook with Illario. You know how he is.”

Teia gave him a curious look. “Rook can take care of herself.” She regarded Lucanis cooly, and he fought not to squirm under her critical eye. “She is naive to… certain matters, yes. But she is no fool, she certainly does not need you intervening on her behalf.” She leaned close to him then, a fire in her eyes. “Be careful, Lucanis. Rook is important to House De Riva, to Viago, and he won’t take kindly to any perceived slights.” 

Lucanis frowned, working Teia’s words over in his mind. “Rook is… I would never seek to hurt her.” He was getting the distinct impression he was missing something important. Teia’s eyes softened slightly, and she patted Lucanis’ hand.

“I know that. But Viago doesn’t. Rook has been hurt before, and Viago had to pick up the pieces,” Lucanis opened his mouth to press for more but Teia continued pointedly, “Not my story to tell.” She sighed, taking a cursory look around to ensure their privacy was still uninterrupted. Lucanis’ mind lingered on Rook, and all the things he still didn’t know about her. 

“You know Rook well, then? Knew her before…” Lucanis gestured vaguely, “All of this?” Teia leaned back in the booth, nodding.

“Yes, of course. She lives, well lived, with Viago, you know. I first met her when she was still a girl.” Teia smiled fondly, temporarily lost in some memory. “Not dissimilar to you, in some ways. A near prodigy, as far as the Crows are concerned. Viago spared no expense when it came to her education, he has high hopes for her future. She was a good find.” 

A good find. The phrase bothered Lucanis, it made her sound less like a person, and more like a tool to be used. “She has a good heart.” He blurted the words without thinking, unsure what he was defending, or trying to prove. He breathed a sigh of relief when Teia seemed unbothered by his assertion.

“She does. It is good of you to notice. Although, it can get her into trouble.” She shook her head as she spoke. “Vi is hard on her, always has been. It comes from a good place. Still, I think he broke that heart of hers a bit, when he sent her away. She has always loved him dearly.” Lucanis knew Rook cared for Viago, it was clear in the way she spoke about him, even when she was angry. Regardless, Teia’s words painted a clearer picture, and the gravity of what Rook had done for him in concealing his possession weighed even heavier. 

“Teia,” Lucanis hesitated briefly, before pushing on. “We... should talk.” Teia nodded, seeming unsurprised by Lucanis’ sudden change in subject.

“Of course. Caterina’s funeral won't plan itself, I have several matters that require your input.” She shuffled a stack of papers, launching into a flurry of questions about dress codes, guest lists, and a litany of other superficial concerns. Lucanis sighed, resolving to bring up his possession some other time. For now, there was too much that required his attention.

—

Neither Illario nor Rook had an umbrella, and they mutually agreed to walk Treviso’s streets as opposed to taking the rooftops to the crematorium in an effort to stay dry. Rook didn’t mention it, but she wasn’t looking forward to multiple zip-lines with her still healing injuries, and she was happy to take the roads instead. Illario spoke animatedly to her about various things at first as they walked, restaurants he recommended or snippets of gossip he had heard. His chatter lessened however as they walked, and he seemed lost in thought, nothing but the soft pattering of the rain filling the air between them. 

Rook considered him as they went, he was so different from Lucanis in almost every way. Where Lucanis was considerate and humble, he was arrogant and self-involved. The authority and leadership skills that came naturally to Lucanis were all but nonexistent in Illario, and Rook was sure she wasn’t the only one who saw through his heavy-handed attempts at dominance. Still, this was a person that Lucanis cared deeply about, and she’d seen flashes of something softer underneath Illario’s usual swagger back at the Diamond. 

“Illario,” She started, and he faced her immediately, plastering a smooth smile on his face as he did. She hesitated for a moment, before continuing. “I know, back at the Diamond, it got a little… Well. I just thought you should know, Lucanis is just worrying for you. He cares about you.” She thought she saw Illario’s smile slip slightly, and she rushed to continue. “Viago yells at me all the time. I mean, like, every time we talk almost. I know it isn’t fun, I just…” She trailed off as she rambled, she regretted opening her mouth to begin with. 

To her surprise, Illario seemed to relax slightly. “Ah, you need not worry about me, querida,” Rook startled slightly at the term of endearment, “Though you are... sweet, to offer comfort, my cousin and I are men of action. Words do not always suit us.” She and Illario paused under an archway, watching from the shadows as an Antaam patrol filed past. They continued after a moment, and Rook could see the crematorium just up ahead. 

She and Illario jogged through the rain, slowing as they reached the stone awning over the crematorium doors. Illario turned to face her, his face pinched in sorrow, as it was back at the Diamond. “Rook, this has been so hard, as I’m sure you know. You’ve been so kind to accompany me, but I wonder if you might wait outside?” Illario leaned down as he spoke, uncomfortably close as he lowered his voice. “I would like a moment alone to collect myself, once I’ve retrieved Caterina’s ashes. This all feels so final.” Rook nodded, she had no desire to watch Illario make a scene over a box of dust. 

“Of course, I don’t mind at all.” She assured him, and he flashed her a toothy grin, swooping forward to peck her on the cheek. 

“Thank you for your understanding, querida, Teia was right about you. I’ll be but a moment.” And with that, Illario spun on his heel, entering the crematorium.

Rook let out a breath, and tipped her head back against the wall as she waited. She found Illario immensely difficult to be around, and she cursed her terrible awkwardness. Perhaps if Viago had allowed me to attend more social gatherings, I would be more comfortable making friends. Rook thought bitterly to herself as she watched the rain form dirty puddles in the streets. She felt regret almost immediately over the thought. Viago had only ever tried to protect her, in his own way, and she knew that.

The thought of Viago brought their last conversation back to the front of her mind, and she winced outwardly as the words he had flung in anger resurfaced in her memory. Varric was right, she knew it logically. She also knew that Viago would never apologize, at least not outright, his pride would never allow it. Quite the opposite, he was likely waiting on her to make amends somehow, an old dynamic she always caved under. 

Rook was so lost in her thoughts about Viago that she barely registered when Illario finally re-emerged from within the crematorium, a small wooden box in hand. “Rook, thank you for your patience.” Illario’s voice startled her from her reverie, and she straightened from her position leaning against the wall.

“Oh, it was no trouble. Shall we head back?” Rook crossed her arms over her chest as she spoke, fighting back a shiver as the evening’s chill descended. 

“Of course. I could not help but notice you were looking rather gloomy, standing there.” Illario walked with one hand against her back, ushering her quickly through the rain to walk under Treviso’s archways. “Certainly, it could not be that you missed me, could it?” He offered a sly grin as he spoke, and she laughed.

“I’m afraid not. Viago is waiting to speak with me back at the Diamond, I have a feeling you aren’t the only one who will suffer a scolding today.” Rook explained as they walked, and Illario clicked his tongue in response. 

“Ah, I see. I seem to remember you have a penchant for ruffling the feathers of the Fifth Talon. What was it this time?” Rook grimaced at Illario’s words, he was clearly referencing her incident with the Antaam a year prior.

She waved a hand noncommittally through the air as she responded. “Oh, just an argument we had, after my fight with the dragon. We both… said things we didn’t mean. I think.” She muttered the last bit under her breath, and Illario hummed in understanding. 

“It happens. Family can be… complicated, as you know. You will both feel better, once you hash it out.” Rook was briefly surprised at how genuine Illario seemed, and she beamed up at him, feeling as though she’d finally made progress with him. 

“Hey, thanks,” She elbowed him playfully as she mimicked his earlier sentiment, “You’re sweet.” Illario laughed lightly in response.

“Good memory. You might also remember,” Illario caught her by the arm suddenly, pulling her against him as he spoke, “I am a man of action.” 

Rook’s cheeks heated at the unexpected implication as he held her flush against him, and searched for the right way to diffuse the situation, even as Illario pressed her into the wall. “Oh! Um, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to-” She rambled as he cupped her face in one hand, his eyes dark as he tipped her chin up and examined her. 

“Are you nervous, querida?” She froze, feeling suddenly vulnerable and unsure of herself. Illario chuckled lowly, close enough now for Rook to feel the warmth of his breath on her face. “You are sweet. No wonder my cousin is so enamored with you.” He held her there for a moment longer, dropping his hand from her face to rest lightly against her throat before he released her, just as quickly as he had grabbed her. He took a step back, and pressed the box of ashes into her hands.

“Lucanis and I would benefit from some space, I believe, and I have other errands to run. I trust you can get these back to Teia at the Diamond?” Illario was talking as if nothing had happened, the sudden flip in his mood leaving Rook unsettled. She nodded and turned to go, unable to form the words she needed and cautious of making the wrong move. 

“Oh, and Rook?” Illario called out to her once more as she walked away and she paused, glancing over her shoulder at him. He was smiling at her, that same predatory glint in his eyes that she’d seen in the cafe. “We ought to do this again, I’d love to get to know you better.” She offered a weak smile, watching as he turned and disappeared back in the direction of the crematorium.

Chapter Text

What had started as a steady drizzle shifted into a downpour as Rook made her way back to the Diamond, making it impossible to stay dry. By the time she arrived back in the lounge she was soaked through to her skin, and Teia gasped when she saw her. “Rook! Maker, you’re soaking wet. Where is Illario?” Teia began squeezing water out of Rook’s hair as she questioned her. 

“Errands. Here, ashes.” Rook was wet, cold, tired, and entirely uninterested in rehashing Illario’s strange behavior at that moment. Teia made a frustrated sound as she took the ashes. 

“Leave it to Illario to pass off the job to somebody else, I should’ve known. And I just promised Lucanis I would keep an eye on him, as if-” Teia launched into a tirade as she went to work stripping Rook’s coat before returning once more to fuss at her hair, just as Viago turned the corner into the room with Lucanis close behind him. 

“Rook,” Viago wrinkled his nose as he made his way over to her, “You’re back. You look like a drowned rat.” Rook ducked out of Teia’s grip as she glared at Viago.

“Thanks, Viago. You always know just what to say.” Rook was starting to shiver, even as tingling warmth returned to her extremities. Viago grunted in response, and nodded towards the fire.

“Come, sit. We will talk.” He steered her towards the fire, motioning for Teia and Lucanis to leave them. Lucanis looked like he wanted to say something, but Teia’s face must have stopped him. He followed her out, glancing back over his shoulder at Rook as he did. Rook plopped down on the floor in front of the hearth while Viago rummaged around under one of the lounges, procuring a blanket. “Here, try to dry yourself off some. You’ll catch ill like that.” 

Rook took the blanket gratefully, scrubbing at her damp skin and hair with it. Viago sat down in a nearby armchair, watching her silently. Rook could feel his eyes on her, burning hotter than the fire she sat beside, and she pointedly avoided meeting his gaze. She preferred to let Viago make the first move in situations such as this, and he knew it.

After what felt like far too long, Viago cleared his throat, and Rook saw him look down at his boots out of the corner of her eye. She chanced a glance at him, and observed him working his jaw in the way he did when he was thinking of what to say. When he finally spoke, his words caught Rook off guard.

“You did well.” He spoke so softly she almost thought she’d misheard him at first. “With the dragon. I should not have spoken to you the way that I did.” Rook was staring at him, frozen in shock. She wasn’t sure she ever remembered Viago admitting to being wrong, at least not to her.

“I was worried. You are not a child anymore, and I should not be treating you as such.” He met her gaze then, and his eyes glinted with something she struggled to place. “Rook, you did House De Riva proud. What you’ve accomplished? It will be spoken of for generations to come. I know you won’t disappoint me.” Rook recognized it now, the look in his eyes. The flash of ambition that had won him the seat of Fifth Talon, the cunning ability to spot and seize opportunities that he was renowned for. 

It was the closest Rook would ever get to an admission of love or pride, and she would take what she could get. “Thank you, Viago. I’ll try not to let you down.” She murmured back to him, eyes cast downward as she fiddled with the strap of her boot. Viago nodded, satisfied with her response as he leaned back in his chair. 

“You were wounded. How are you recovering? Do you need potions?” Rook shook her head at Viago’s questions. 

“I’m alright, sore mostly. Lucanis thinks I’ll be back in fighting condition within a week, he patched me up.” Viago huffed slightly. 

“I will send you back with potions. What else do you have to report?” Rook shifted her back to the fire as she filled Viago in on the situation in Minrathous, and their intention to search for a Fade expert and a dragon hunter. He nodded, thoughtful and attentive as she spoke. 

“Good. And… you are getting along with Lucanis? What of Illario?” They were alone, but Viago still lowered his voice as he asked her. She nodded.

“Lucanis is great, I like working with him. Illario is…” Viago latched onto her pause, sharpening instantly. 

“Yes?” He stared at Rook, waiting for her to continue.

“I… don’t know. It’s hard to describe.” Viago had just told her she was no longer a child, yet she always felt like one under his eagle eyed gaze. 

“Try.” He had crossed his arms over his chest, unwilling to let this go.

“He makes me uncomfortable.” Rook sighed, there was no option but honesty. “Lucanis trusts him, loves him. But there’s something wrong there, I just don’t know what it is yet.” Viago leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as Rook spoke.

“Rook, you have a good sense for people… most of the time.” Rook dropped her head slightly, not missing Viago’s implication, but he kept speaking. “You’ve learned your lessons. I trust you to follow your gut. But,” Viago motioned Rook closer, and she shuffled closer to kneel at his feet. He placed a hand on her shoulder, wincing slightly at her still-wet clothes as he did. “Remember to be careful. Lucanis is one thing, and it seems you’re building a rapport. But stay wary with Illario, don't let your guard down.” Viago’s eyes softened as he spoke, and he removed his hand from her shoulder, placing it on her cheek instead, something he had often done when she was a girl. “If it wasn’t clear before, I want you to come home alive, at the end of this.”

Rook felt a flood of affection for Viago. Underneath the anger and the grief, past all the stress of fighting gods, she missed him terribly. Before she could think better of it, she had flung herself into his arms, embracing him tightly as he grunted in surprise. He patted her back awkwardly, and she buried her face into his shoulder.

“Te extrañé mucho.” She spoke barely above a whisper, slipping out of the trade tongue in an effort to impress her feelings deeper upon him. Viago sighed and gave her a quick squeeze, patting her head with one hand as he did. 

“And I you.” His voice was gruff, but it was good enough for Rook. Teia’s voice in the doorway startled both of them.

“Oh, that is sweet! Look, Lucanis, they’ve made up.” She was practically gushing at them, and Rook pulled away so quickly she nearly stumbled while Viago shot up out of his chair. Teia was standing just inside the lounge grinning, Lucanis beside her with a bemused look on his face. 

“Alright, that’s enough.” Viago grumbled, his ears red with embarrassment. “Rook, you may go. You and Lucanis should return once you’ve healed, Teia and I may have a job for the both of you.” 

Rook nodded, a tightness in her chest finally unwinding. Viago passed her a small bundle of potions, instructing her to take one each night before she slept, which she promised to do. Teia was reminding Lucanis of the date they’d decided on for the funeral, and confirming what he should wear. “Make sure Rook shows up presentable as well, I assume you’ll bring her along.” Lucanis blushed lightly, but nodded his agreement. The two of them said their goodbyes and headed out.

—

Rook was drier now than she’d been when Lucanis first saw her re-enter the Diamond, but her clothes were still soaked through. She smiled apologetically as they sat in the Caretaker’s boat. “I’m sorry, I know we said we would go out shopping after we finished with the funeral business, but then Teia sent me with Illario, and now I’m all wet, and then Viago wanted a full report!” He smiled as she talked to him, her upbeat chatter was a welcome change of pace to the day. 

“Don’t worry about it, Rook. Besides,” He patted the parcel at his feet, smiling slyly as he did, “I got you a gift while you were with Viago.” She cocked her head curiously at the package.

“A gift?” Lucanis nodded as he passed it to her, and she curiously peered inside. She brightened immediately, rummaging through it. “New leathers?” She looked up grinning at Lucanis, and his heart flipped in his chest. “Thank you Lucanis, you didn’t have to.” 

Lucanis shrugged, feigning casual interest as he watched her testing the construction of the armor beneath her fingers. “These are much better quality, and they have just as many pockets as your last set. More, I think.”

“Thank you!” Rook repeated herself, and Lucanis felt pride spread through him at her palpable joy. He helped her out of the boat once the Caretaker had docked them, and they headed back to the lighthouse together. Lucanis followed Rook to her room, where he had spent every night with her since the dragon attack. She slept fitfully most nights it seemed, and he had fallen into a routine of soothing her as she woke, he liked to believe she was starting to seem better rested.

Rook began stripping her wet clothes almost as soon as they were in her room, and he settled himself against the back of her lounge to watch as she undressed. The bruises along her back were lighter, turning green in color. Her wounded ribs were also looking better, and the gash left behind by the dragon no longer required regular bandaging. She would likely heal faster on bedrest, but Rook was incapable of sitting still, flitting between rooms in the lighthouse as she checked in daily with members of the team. 

Lucanis approached her as she shimmied into her lounge pants, moving to stand behind her as she rummaged for a shirt. He placed both hands on her arms, stilling her movement as he pressed his lips against her shoulder. Her skin was cold to the touch, and she shivered at the contact. “You’re so warm.” She murmured, leaning back into him as he encircled her in his arms. 

He smiled as he said, “I think you might just be cold.” She nodded in response, her eyes fluttering closed as he kissed her jaw. The sight of Illario’s hand on her back earlier that day had bothered him, and he felt a strange yearning to mark her as his. “Come, lay with me.” He spoke softly against her ear, and she allowed him to lead her back to their shared couch, pulling her soft button-up nightshirt on as she went. 

They’d agreed just yesterday, the chaise seemed bigger now than before, the lighthouse’s strange magic shifting things to accommodate their shared nights. An Antivan coffee maker had also mysteriously appeared amongst Rook’s things, and Lucanis had hauled a bag of beans into her room. If the rest of their team had noticed that Lucanis was no longer spending his nights in the pantry, they hadn’t said anything.

Rook sighed as she laid on the lounge, pulling Lucanis down beside her and curling into his chest as he wrapped her in his arms. He ran his hands gently along her back, and then over her arms, repeating the motion several times as he rubbed the warmth back into her. He shook his head slightly. “Illario leaving you to walk back alone in the rain with Caterina’s ashes… what was he thinking?” He muttered it partially to himself. 

Rook hummed softly, eyes closed as she pressed into him. “Better than walking back with him after he was so weird.” Her voice was thick with looming sleep as she spoke, but Lucanis found himself frowning at her words.

“What do you mean ‘weird?’” He asked, pulling back slightly so he could see her face. Rook blushed, opening her eyes to peer up at him through her lashes. 

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t going to say anything.” She ran her fingers through his beard, a gesture that was becoming a habit for her, and he leaned into her touch, but he couldn’t ignore the way her eyes flickered down. She’s uncomfortable. Lucanis was learning to read her better with each day, and he found that while she was generally quite open with him, when she wasn’t, her tells were consistent and reliable.

Lucanis felt the sour curdling of his mood as he sat up, watching her closely as he spoke. “Tell me what happened.”

Chapter Text

Lucanis was silent as Rook recalled her experience with Illario. He listened without interrupting, but he could feel his temper rising as she spoke. Spite was snarling so loudly in his head, it was almost hard to focus on her words. Ours-ours-ours-OURS ALONE.

“… It was… I don’t know, uncomfortable. I worry I gave him the wrong impression.” Rook’s voice cut through the demon’s mantra, and Lucanis’ attention snapped back to her. She wasn’t looking at him. Her face was turned towards the window and she seemed to be watching the fish, her eyes trailing after them as they swam in lazy circles.

“No,” Lucanis’ voice came out harsher than he intended, and he felt her flinch slightly before turning to look at him. He tried to soften himself, struggling as Spite stoked the flames of anger and jealousy. “You did not give him the wrong impression, Rook. This is Illario being Illario, trying to take what he wants. Especially if he suspects that it’s already mine.” He could feel Spite slip through on his last word, and he struggled to reign him back in.

Concern flashed in Rook’s eyes, and she propped herself up, pushing gently at Lucanis’ shoulders, urging him on to his back. He allowed her to push him, and she settled herself over his hips with one leg on either side of him. She leaned forward, her hair forming a curtain around him and blotting out some of the light as she cupped his face in her hands.

“It’s alright.” She soothed, stroking his cheeks lightly under her thumbs. “Is Spite upset?” She punctuated her question with a soft kiss, pulling back from him long before he was ready. Lucanis raised his hands to her waist, anchoring himself against her as he nodded.

Rook continued, dragging her nails lightly through his beard. He closed his eyes, focusing on her touch as she drew her fingers down across his throat, and then fanned them out across his shirt. She unbuttoned him, slow and methodical, before sliding her hands under the fabric to massage his chest and shoulders. She leaned down, pressing her lips to his once more. She was always tender with him, gentle and thoughtful with every touch. 

She worked in sharp contrast to Spite, who pushed to possess and consume, rough around every edge. But even the demon seemed to bend and soften under her ministrations, drawing back in some semblance of submission. Lucanis’ rage ebbed from a boil to a simmer. Nobody had this effect on Spite but Rook, Lucanis himself had never been able to soothe the demon, suffering through his tantrums with gritted teeth. But under Rook’s care, Spite could be managed, if not tamed, and it gave Lucanis far more hope than he could comfortably admit.

He opened his eyes to look at her, and she seemed to be satisfied with whatever it was she saw. “There, that’s better.” Lucanis shook his head, his anger lingered, but he could at least speak rationally now.

“Illario has been careless at times. But his own life is on the line, and he would rather chase after you and pick fights with me than address it.” Lucanis felt that familiar tug of war he’d come to associate with his cousin. Knowing that Illario would always be trouble, while being unable to shake the desperation to protect him from the consequences of his own actions. And now, with Rook in the mix, the balancing act of contradictory feelings was even greater. How could he keep Illario safe, while also trying to keep Rook safe from him?

“Zara took down the First Talon,” He continued quietly, “Anyone could be next. And my cousin doesn’t want to think about it.” Rook listened as Lucanis spoke, and he watched her as she hovered above him, a halo of blue-green light illuminating her as she considered his words.

“Then we prioritize killing her. I can’t make promises of safety, not when I don’t know if I can keep them.” Rook always spoke so plainly, honest and to the point, yet never unkind. “But I gave you my word, and I intend to keep it.” Lucanis squeezed her lightly, her words brought more comfort than she would ever know. 

“I know.” He reached up as he spoke, tugging gently at her shirt, and she smiled as she leaned forward to kiss him once more. Rook had soothed the demon and quieted Lucanis’ fears for the moment. Still, the urge to possess her remained, to mark her as his once more. He held her to him, one hand at the small of her back, the other brushing against her throat, feeling the spots Illario had tried to claim. 

Rook had no objections, leaning into him. She rolled her hips backward as she moved to lay on top of him, brushing against his stiffening cock as she did. He grunted at the contact, grabbing at the back of her thigh reflexively. She paused, frowning as she straightened. “Did I hurt you?” She looked worried as she tried to shift herself off of him, and Lucanis tightened his grip, holding her still.

“No,” He insisted, guiding her hips back where he wanted them, “The opposite.” She blushed, the brightening of her cheeks visible even in the low light of her room. He could tell she had something she wanted to say by the way she chewed lightly on her bottom lip.

“How should I… what do I do for you?” She was shy, avoiding his eyes, and he felt Spite’s attention sharpening, a million different and increasingly lewd suggestions flooding him at once. Lucanis stifled him as he spoke.

“You do a great deal without even knowing it.” He muttered as he rocked his hips into her again, sighing at the friction of their clothes as he rubbed himself against her inner thigh. She rested her forehead against his.

“Then… let me touch you. You can show me.” Her whisper sent heat rippling through him like wildfire. He flipped her, swapping their positions as she gasped in surprise. He straddled her carefully, leaning down to take one of her wrists in his hand, guiding her fingers to his tented pants.

“I won’t refuse an offer like that.” He purred in her ear, and she shivered as she cupped him through his trousers. He released her wrist, allowing her to undo his pants at her leisure, and he suppressed a shudder of excitement every time her fingers brushed against him. He sighed as she freed his cock, dropping his face into the crook her neck as her fingers ghosted against him.

Her touch was timid at first, almost teasing, and he resisted the urge to grind his hips into her hand. Still, she must have sensed his desires, and she slid her fingers down his shaft, gripping him lightly as he took a shaky breath. He grabbed her wrist again before sliding his fingers over hers, tightening her hold on him. “Like this.” He murmured as he guided her hand, setting her pace for her. He released her after a few strokes, and she continued as he’d showed her.

He let out a low groan, giving himself over to the feel of her hand holding him, the skin of her palms smoother and softer than his own. For over a year he’d been without intimate touch from anyone, and he had to fight to control himself. He wanted to feel her, the desire burned in him white-hot. He passed his hand over her breasts, and he could feel the stiffness of her nipples through her thin nightshirt. 

“Rook.” Her name was a prayer on his lips, and her hand on his cock stuttered slightly, her breath catching as he pushed her shirt up to expose her. He slid his fingers over her stomach, and then along the smooth skin of her breasts. “Perfect, you are perfect.” He was speaking just above a whisper, his voice low and rough as she pleasured him. He rolled a nipple between his fingers and she gasped, her fingers flexing deliciously along his shaft. The movement tore a groan from him, and he pressed a sloppy kiss against her jawline. “Keep going, please.” He shamelessly begged her for more, and she complied with his every whim.

His breath was coming ragged now, but he wasn’t ready, not yet. He dropped his hand from her breasts, and slipped it under the waist band of her pants, brushing against her cunt. Rook made a breathless sound, wrapping her free hand around Lucanis’ back to press him closer. Her pace on his cock faltered just barely, giving him the opportunity he needed to regain himself.

He slid his fingers down further, running them through her slick folds. “You’re so wet, Rook. And I’ve barely gotten to touch you.” He circled her entrance as he spoke, and trailed the evidence of her arousal back up through her center as he pressed lightly against her clit. She was squirming, the combination of his fingers and his words had her gasping and whimpering. He slipped his middle finger inside of her, pressing his thumb against her clit as he did. She let out a breathy cry, clenching around his fingers. She brought her knees up slightly, pressing her heels into the couch as she writhed under his touch. 

He removed his hand from her, grabbing her wrist and stilling her movements on his twitching cock. Rook was breathing as hard as he was, trembling slightly as he guided her hand down into her pants, placing his hand over hers as he led her. “Touch yourself.” He coaxed her, the words falling easily from his lips as he guided her along her own slick heat, until he was certain her fingers were coated. He took her hand again, placing it back on his cock.

“Now, let me feel.” She began to stroke him once more, her fingers lubricated with her own wetness, and he eased his hand down her pants again. It felt like heaven, the combination of her slippery cunt against his fingers, her hand covered in her own arousal wrapped around his cock. He lost himself in the sensation. He knew he was close, and he began pumping into her hand in time with her strokes. 

As he teetered on the edge of release, he slipped two fingers inside of her, curling them upward as he stroked her clit relentlessly with his thumb. She clenched around him, moaning as she tossed her head back. “Lucanis, that’s-” She cried out as he pumped his fingers inside of her, increasing the pressure on her clit as he did. Rook fisted the hand at his back into his shirt as her orgasm overtook her, and Lucanis removed his hand from her to wrap it over her fingers around his cock, guiding himself against her with several rapid thrusts before he joined her with his own climax, swearing as he came into her fingers.

He relaxed against her, his chest heaving as his cock softened in her hand. Rook was still holding him, her eyes closed as she caught her breath. Lucanis lifted himself off of her, desire still coursing through him as he gazed at her in the aftermath of their shared pleasure. She didn’t protest as he pulled at the waistband of her pants, sliding them off of her with ease.

He lowered himself over her bare cunt, glistening with the remnants of her orgasm, and parted her thighs as he ran his tongue from base to peak. She let out a strangled yelp, hyper-sensitive and trembling as Lucanis hooked her knees over his shoulders. He closed his mouth over her clit, rolling his tongue back and forth over the bundle of nerves as she bucked, her heels pressing into his shoulders as he trapped her between his mouth and the couch. 

He caught her hands in his as she reached down, holding them at her sides as he lavished attention on her swollen clit, sucking and licking at a merciless pace. She squealed, a mixture of pleasure and shock in her voice as she came again. Lucanis finally relented, lapping languidly at her as she rode out her second orgasm, before placing a final kiss at her inner thigh, and moving to lay beside her. 

He pulled her into his arms and dabbed his beard on his sleeve before capturing her lips in a deep kiss. He was exploring her mouth with his tongue as she wrapped her arms around his neck and tangled her legs with his. They lay in silence for some time, holding one another. Rook buried her face in Lucanis’ chest while he rested his chin on her head, closing his eyes. He was thinking about the feel of her skin under his fingers and the rhythm of her breathing, basking in her warmth and the weight of her in his arms. He was so relaxed, he wasn’t thinking about Illario, or Caterina’s funeral, or Zara Renata. In that moment, he’d even forgotten about Spite as he fell into a deep sleep.

Chapter Text

Rook felt it as Lucanis fell asleep. His arms loosened around her, the tension in his muscles relaxing as his breathing slowed. She’d never actually seen him fall asleep. He was usually still awake when she dozed off, and she believed he slept lightly, as he was always awake to soothe her as she clawed her way out of her own fitful dreams.

She burrowed closer, tightening her hold on him reflexively. She reached one hand up to stroke his hair, trailing her fingers from root to tip, and then down his back. She was mapping the muscles under his skin, the placement of every bone, as if she could memorize the feeling of him. She shivered slightly, a chill settling over her as she realized her legs were still bare, she was still naked from the waist down. She extracted herself from him gently, careful not to disturb his rest, and sat up, searching the end of the lounge for her discarded pants.

When she found them, she scooted to the edge of the couch, shimmying into them with her back to Lucanis. As she pulled the waistband up, she felt his weight shifting against the cushions, and heard the rustle of fabric as he sat upright. She didn’t turn to him at first, reaching for a blanket for them to share. “I didn’t mean to wake you, I’m sorry.” She spoke softly over her shoulder as she gathered the blanket in her arms.

“You didn’t.” Rook froze, the voice behind her distinctly was and was not Lucanis. Spite. She turned to look at him slowly, keeping her movements even. Lucanis was staring at her, but his eyes were not his. Instead of Lucanis’ warm brown irises, his eyes glowed a luminescent shade of violet, an indication of Spite’s presence that Rook occasionally saw during battle, in addition to the more obvious wings.

“Spite.” Rook addressed the demon, confirming the obvious. Spite grinned, twisting Lucanis’ mouth into an impish smile.

“Yes.” Spite replied, his own strange voice overlaid Lucanis’. He reached for her so quickly that Rook didn’t have time to properly register the movement. 

She’d been sitting on the edge of the lounge when Spite grabbed hold of her legs at the calves, yanking them up and back onto the lounge toward him with such force that she fell backwards, landing flat on her back against the cushions with a surprised yelp. Rook’s wounds had healed a good deal, and she could comfortably lay on her back now, but the sudden force of a landing sent pain blossoming through her shoulder blades and ribs. She winced, one hand flying to grasp at her side while she braced the other against Lucanis’ chest as Spite loomed over her, piloting his body. 

Spite paused, cocking Lucanis’ head to the side as if deciphering her reaction, and she steadied her breathing as the pain of the impact receded. Spite spoke once more. “I do not want to HURT Rook.” As he spoke, he acted in contradiction, grabbing her wrist and pinning it above her head with enough force to bruise. She reacted by attempting to push him away again with her remaining hand. He caught that one as well, effectively pinning both wrists above her head in one of his fists.

Rook was no weakling. She was used to being in fights against opponents multiple times her size, and operating on a daily basis weighed down by leather armor, blades, and a bow. However, still recovering from her injuries and up against the inhuman strength of Spite, she felt like she was struggling against iron cuffs. Spite’s grip tightened as she tugged at him, squeezing so hard that tears sprung to her eyes, and she worried he might fracture bone.

Spite repeated himself more forcefully as he leaned in close to her face. “I. Do. Not. WANT. To HURT Rook.” He spoke in a strange, halting intonation, putting emphasis on his words by giving her wrists a sharp tug. 

“Then stop squeezing me.” Rook gasped out, still squirming. 

“Stop MOVING.” Spite snarled in response, placing his remaining hand against her stomach and pressing her into the couch as he shifted to sit on top of her hips, the mimicry of their position during the night’s earlier intimacy causing a flush of anger and embarrassment to rise in her cheeks. Still, she listened, stilling as he settled on top of her.

To Rook’s surprise, the demon loosened his hold on her wrists, just enough that it no longer hurt, but not enough for her to wiggle loose. She relaxed slightly in response, though her heart was hammering in her chest as she stared into his violet eyes.

“I do not want to hurt Rook.” Spite murmured his refrain once more, almost to himself, as he leaned in suddenly, inhaling sharply against the skin of her jaw. It tickled, Lucanis’ beard ghosting against her throat as the demon sniffed her, and she tensed in response. Spite pulled back just enough to meet her eyes again. “I want OUT.” Spite stared hard at her as he spoke, and Rook picked up on a strange urgency.

“I… okay? I don’t understand.” She tried to keep her voice steady, despite her nervousness. She actually believed Spite, to a degree. She believed him when he said he didn’t want to hurt her, but she wasn’t sure he had the restraint or understood his own strength well enough to follow through, if she wasn’t careful. 

Spite made a low growling sound in the back of Lucanis’ throat, clearly frustrated.

“I DO understand. I do NOT have the WORDS. I must find them.” Spite gave her wrists another light yank to punctate the end of each sentence, and she winced again. 

“Okay! Okay. I…” Rook struggled for a moment, thinking back to her conversation with Lucanis the first night he had stayed with her. He’d said that he mostly argued with Spite, that the demon didn’t understand very much. Rook felt badly then. She was not well-versed in demons, or spirits in general for that matter. She wasn’t a mage, and unlike Lucanis, her targets weren’t usually mages either. What she did have experience with was feeling trapped, being thrown into a world that she didn’t fully understand and struggling to either find her place, or die trying. 

“When I first moved to Antiva as a little girl, I didn’t speak the language.” She spoke quickly, wanting to keep Spite’s attention. He tipped Lucanis’ chin down, waiting for her to continue. Rook took a deep breath. “It was frightening, and everything was so different all of a sudden. I only had Viago to talk to, and we didn’t always get along. I missed home, in a way. It… It took me a long time to understand everything, and for people to understand me. I used to get angry too.” 

Spite stared at her, and it was impossible to read any emotion in his glowing eyes. But he let out a low, hissing sound, bending forward to rest Lucanis’ forehead against hers as he did. “YES. Yes.” Spite nodded slightly against her, and Rook felt a rush of emotion. Relief, sympathy, and lingering fear swirled inside of her. Spite moved the hand resting on her stomach, dragging her shirt slightly upwards, exposing her ribs. He ran Lucanis’ fingers along her still-healing wound, light as a feather as he probed the area.

“WEAK. FRAGILE creature.” He spoke matter of factly, and Rook frowned at his assertion, she certainly didn't agree with it. 

“Well, that’s not very nice.” She snapped back at him before she could stop herself or think better of it, and was startled when Spite let out a low, rasping chuckle in response. 

“Funny. ROOK is always such fun.” Spite raised his head, Lucanis’ mouth twisted into another feral grin, and then his features softened slightly. He moved his hand again, this time letting it rest against Rook’s chest, just over her heart. “STRONGER here. Enough to bring us OUT?” Spite’s last sentence was formed as a question, and Rook struggled to understand him again.

“Spite, I still don’t understand, and I know that’s… frustrating. But, if you can be patient, give me some time, I can try? And, you keep trying to find the words you need.” Rook watched as the demon considered her proposition, Lucanis’ fingers flexing against her aching wrists. Then he nodded again, slowly.

“I accept your deal.” Spite spoke smoothly for the first time, and Rook wondered if that was a phrase he used often. She nodded to him, and they sat in silence, staring at one another. Rook waited, and waited. Spite did nothing, keeping her pinned in place as he watched her.

“Um…” Rook started, and Spite cocked Lucanis’ head to the side again as he listened. “Can you… let go of me now?” She asked, cautious not to upset him.

“No.” Spite responded, short and even. Rook flushed again, indignation rushing through her at his flat refusal. 

“Why not?” She tried again, squirming slightly under his weight.

“I do not WANT to.” Spite offered this as though it were reasonable, and Rook gasped as he began to lift her shirt higher once more, Lucanis’ fingers brushing the underside of her breast as he did.

“Spite, stop.” She said, even as her breath hitched under the familiar touch. The demon leaned close, studying her face as he continued his exploration.

“I do not want to.” He repeated himself, slower this time, as he continued his groping. 

“I want you to.” Rook tried to keep the panic out of her voice, unsure if it would be wise to show fear to a demon. This seemed to give Spite pause, and while he didn’t remove his hand, he did stop moving.

“Why?” He asked her, and Rook was struck again by the plainness with which he spoke. She reminded herself that Spite was a demon, no, a spirit. He did not grasp the complexities of human emotion, concepts such as consent or mutual interest were likely foreign to him.

“It… hurts me.” She struggled to think of how she could explain this, and Spite shook his head.

“NO. You ENJOY it. I’ve seen.” Spite was insistent as he spoke, and demonstrated his point by running Lucanis’ calloused fingers over her sensitive skin, pinching her lightly. Rook gasped, struggling against him as she rushed to speak again.

“No, Spite, no.” She couldn’t keep the edge of panic from her voice now, and she tried to steady herself under his unwelcome touch. “It doesn’t… It doesn’t hurt me physically. It hurts differently, because you don’t have my permission. And you don’t have Lucanis’ permission.” Spite paused once more, and while she couldn’t read his glowing eyes, he tilted Lucanis’ head slightly, which she was learning at least meant he was listening, attempting to understand. She continued. “When the Venatori put you with Lucanis, they didn’t have your permission. And they hurt you both, physically. But the way it made you feel, that hurt too, right?”

Spite had gone still as a statue at the mention of his time in the Ossuary with Lucanis, and he remained that way for so long Rook started to worry that she’d made a mistake. Then, he removed his hand from under her shirt, and tugged it back down into place. Slowly, he released her wrists as well. Rook sighed, bringing her hands to her chest and rubbing at the sore skin as Spite watched, still straddling her. 

When he spoke again, he was quieter, watching her intently. “I do not want to hurt Rook.” Spite repeated his earlier assertion, and Rook nearly started crying with relief. He understands. She sat up carefully, and Spite shifted Lucanis’ body back, allowing her out from under him. She scrambled into a kneeling position, taking several deep breaths before she spoke again.

“Thank you, Spite.” She reached out and he leaned forward eagerly, as she suspected he might, and she cupped Lucanis’ cheek in her hand. “That was very good. I don’t want to hurt you either. Or Lucanis.” Spite nodded against her palm, and she sighed once more. “Okay. Let’s lay down. I need to sleep, and so does Lucanis. Can you be good again, and stay here with me?” 

Spite maneuvered Lucanis back into a resting position, and Rook laid down beside him as he spoke one last time. “YES. The wolf will not take you while I watch.” The phrasing startled her, despite the sentiment, and she whispered back to him as she snuggled close to Lucanis’ chest. 

“What does that mean?” But Spite only shook his head in response, and closed his eyes.

Chapter Text

Lucanis was groggy as he stirred awake. The confused, foggy feeling was intensified by Spite’s voice hammering in his mind. You MUST rise. Rook is waking up. Rook’s name startled him, as did the crashing realization that he had been sleeping, and not just his usual dozing. He opened his eyes as Rook stirred against him, her eyebrows knitted together in a frown. He propped himself up on his elbow, and touched her gently on her shoulder, giving her a light shake as he called her name.

Rook’s breath caught, but her eyes opened, and she blinked at him several times before reaching up to rub at her eyes. “Lucanis.” She mumbled his name, and he watched her carefully, as he always did when she was shaking off the vestiges of whatever dark dreams plagued her. 

She sat up, turning to face him as she did. “We should talk. You fell asleep last night, Spite was here for a bit.” Lucanis flinched, dread crashing over him at her words. His horror must have been evident on his face, because Rook rushed to soothe him, reaching for his hands as she spoke. “It’s okay! Hey, it’s okay, we just talked, mostly.” He looked down at her hands while she held him, and fresh panic churned in his gut as he turned them over, examining the bright bruises that formed a clear pattern around each wrist. Spite had materialized across the room, sitting against the wall watching him. 

“You hurt her?” Lucanis hurled his accusation at Spite, he didn’t care that Rook was watching. Spite looked down at the floor, and Lucanis was startled at his reaction as well as the feeling that accompanied it; shame. Spite spoke to Lucanis, quiet and calm in a way he’d rarely seen before. I did not UNDERSTAND. Rook explained. I will NOT do it again.

Lucanis was stunned. Spite was many things. He was spiteful, first and foremost, as well as immature, vindictive, possessive, and impatient. He was not, however, a liar. This much, at least, Lucanis was fairly confident in.He could manipulate and twist things, but how could he truly lie when Lucanis could feel his every emotion?

Rook’s voice drew his attention back to her, away from where he must have been staring at Spite for some time. “Hey, it was an accident, it’s okay. We worked it out.” 

“An accident.” Lucanis repeated, his heart was hammering in his chest, she was too calm, too quick to forgive this transgression. Rook nodded, her thumbs stroking his knuckles as she held his hands in hers. “Tell me. Everything.” Lucanis was trying to keep his voice even and his anxiety in check.

“Of course I will.” Rook breathed, and she pulled her feet up to sit cross legged. “You fell asleep. After…” Rook blushed, then rushed to continue. “Well, you fell asleep. And then, I got up to get a blanket, and Spite was... awake? Not sure what to call it.” Lucanis nodded, waiting for her to continue. “I think we were both a little surprised at first. But we talked it out. I think he’s… having a hard time expressing himself.” Rook finished.

“Expressing himself?” Lucanis stared at her, bewildered and horrified at her apparent lack of self-preservation skills when it came to him and his resident demon. Rook nodded though, continuing her explanation.

“I told him about when I moved to Antiva as a little girl, and had to learn the language. And then we also talked about consent and he agreed not to let Solas murder me in my dreams, I think. That part was a little unclear, actually.” Lucanis stared at her open mouthed, as he tried to parse through everything she’d just said. 

“I… what language did you speak before?” Lucanis asked, and then shook his head, holding his hand up before she could answer. “Wait, no, we can come back to that. Why did you talk about consent? Did Spite do something? How did Solas come up?” Lucanis was speaking his questions out loud as he thought of them, not leaving any room for Rook to actually respond. “How did you end up with the bruises? He says you explained something to him?” 

Rook leaned forward, squeezing his hand as she placed a kiss against his beard. He leaned into her instinctively, suddenly aching with relief. She was relatively unharmed, she was not frightened, nothing was broken between them. “I was a little unsure what to do, at first. And I think he was worried I was going to try to leave, which is where the bruises came from, he was a little… overzealous.” Lucanis nodded grimly at that, it sounded like Spite. 

“And then… He seemed upset, like he was trying to tell me something, but didn’t know how. And I’ve felt like that before. So I told him about when I moved to Antiva. I mostly spoke elvish, by the way.” Rook addressed his earlier question as she explained. “It’s what most of the slaves I lived with before used, along with a little Tevene. I had to learn Antivan from Viago, and the trade tongue. Anyways, I think Spite understood that, it made him feel better.” Spite had drifted closer as she spoke, watching her and nodding along as she filled Lucanis in on their time together.

“We agreed to give it some time, so I can figure out what it is he needs help with, since I don’t understand yet. And then…” Rook was blushing again as she dropped her eyes. “He got… grabby. I had to explain permission a little bit.” Lucanis’ temper flared at the implication, but Rook didn’t seem particularly upset, mostly embarrassed. “He did not understand that at first. But, Spite has had things done to him without permission. Ending up in a body with you, the Ossuary… It’s as you said, nobody was there by choice. Not even the demons.” 

Lucanis met Spite’s gaze as Rook spoke, and Spite stared at him intently. I would not TAKE Rook’s choices. HURT her. Like they hurt US. Spite practically spat the words at Lucanis, a fierce proclamation. “That’s…” Lucanis struggled for a moment, “Impressive.” He was mostly speaking to Rook, but also to Spite. Rook nodded though, unable to see or hear Spite beside them.

“He made it very clear that he didn’t want to hurt me. Once we came to that understanding, I just needed to make sure you’d be okay. So I asked him to stay put for the night, and he said something odd about a wolf.” Lucanis nodded, remembering Spite’s babbling from the first night after the dragon. 

“He said something the first night we spent together as well. I took it for his usual nonsense.” Lucanis murmured, his eyes sliding back to Spite once more. Rook shook her head.

“I don’t think he’s saying nonsense, Lucanis. I think what he’s saying makes sense to him, just not to us. Yet.” Spite stood up sharply as Rook spoke.

YES. Yes. You see? Spite was hissing at Lucanis, a triumphant air to him. 

“It… may be worth considering.” Lucanis was still cautious, these were uncharted waters. Deals with demons were dangerous things, and now, Rook was involved. He’d been rattled by planning Caterina’s funeral and Illario’s behavior, and he’d left himself vulnerable. In turn, he’d left Rook vulnerable. They had averted disaster this time, but Lucanis wasn’t about to risk it again. He would have to be more careful at night. 

He sighed and stretched, standing up as Rook moved to get dressed. He made himself a cup of coffee while she changed, mulling over what she’d shared of her conversation with Spite. Once his coffee was poured, Lucanis and Rook headed out to the courtyard. Lucanis went to the kitchen to get started on breakfast, while Rook went to check in with Harding and Bellara on their respective tasks for expanding the team. 

He was still rifling through the pantry for various ingredients when he heard the kitchen doors open, and the distinctive sound of Davrin’s boots as he entered. “I am still deciding what to make,” Lucanis called from within the pantry, “But I will have something soon.”

Davrin appeared at the pantry door, and Lucanis glanced back at him. They hadn’t spent much time alone together, or really any at all. Lucanis knew how Davrin felt about him, and he wasn’t particularly fond of him either. He knew enough Warden secrets to understand they were dangerous. “Do you have a request, Warden?” He kept his tone civil.

Davrin grunted in response, looking over the pantry stock dubiously. “Any meat in here? Could use something hearty.” Lucanis considered Davrin’s request, moving over to where they kept the preserved meats and fish. 

“I could make a chorizo scramble…” He murmured to himself, adding measurements up in his head, calculating if he had what he needed. He hadn’t forgotten Davrin in the doorway as he started gathering ingredients, but he was mildly surprised when the man spoke again.

“So, what’s the whole situation between you and Rook?” He leaned against the doorframe, arms over his chest as he asked. Lucanis looked back at him, not pausing as he gathered the last of his ingredients.

“Why do you ask?” Answering a question with a question didn’t always pan out, but Lucanis got the impression that Davrin was not well-versed in matters of verbal misdirection. He shrugged, moving out of Lucanis’ way as he exited the pantry and made his way over to the stove.

“There’s a bed in the pantry. Bellara and Harding both seem to think you sleep in there. But I’ve seen you coming out of Rook’s quarters with her every morning since I’ve arrived.” Davrin shot Lucanis a sly smile as he leaned against the table.

Lucanis paused for a moment, considering. He and Rook hadn’t actually discussed their relationship to any official degree. She had told him not to let Viago find out, but that was it. As far as the team… they simply hadn’t talked about it at length. Rook said she didn’t care what they thought, but that didn’t necessarily mean she wanted to broadcast it. However, denying it would also do him no good here. He sighed a little as he cracked eggs into a bowl.

“It’s… somewhat what you think, somewhat not. We are close, yes. Rook and I are from different Houses though, if you didn't know. In the Crows.” Lucanis explained to Davrin as he worked. To his credit, Davrin listened quietly as Lucanis spoke. “Her Talon… it's best if he doesn’t know about our closeness. So, it is a secret from him. As for the rest of you? I have no idea. We haven’t discussed it at length. This is still rather new.

Davrin nodded, watching Lucanis as he separated ingredients and heated the stovetop. “Fair enough. I won’t mention it in that case.” Lucanis snorted slightly at Davrin’s assertion.

“How good of you.” He couldn’t keep the sneer out of his voice as he began cooking their meal. If Davrin noticed, he didn’t say anything. Instead he wandered back out of the kitchen, leaving Lucanis to his task. 

Chapter Text

Rook was in high spirits as she crossed the courtyard towards the kitchen. Harding had a lead for her on a dragon hunter named Taash with the Lords of Fortune, and she planned to head out to Rivain to meet her next week. She’d received a slight shock when she entered Bellara’s room, where she was already entertaining the company of two Nevarran necromancers. Her Fade expert had also come through, and they would be going to meet him at the Grand Necropolis tomorrow. 

She was hoping Lucanis would be able to join them on the trip to Nevarra. Bellara seemed excited for the trip, but Rook was squeamish around undead, and Lucanis had become a source of comfort. She’d asked Harding first, who staunchly refused. She caught sight of Davrin just outside the kitchen, Assan at his side. He was tossing a hunk of wood for Assan, who attempted to catch it midair. 

“Extend those talons, Assan. You’ll get better traction.” Davrin was barking orders to the griffon as he trained him. Assan dropped the hunk of wood at the sight of Rook, bounding up to her.

“Hi Assan!” She cooed, kneeling to run her hands through his feathers as he warbled at her. Davrin sighed, moving to stand over the two of them.

“You’re spoiling him.” Davrin accused, and Rook scoffed, pulling Assan into a tight embrace as she pouted up at him.

“I am building rapport with him, I’ll have you know. It’s very important for comrades to get to know each other.” It was Davrin’s turn to scoff.

“Alright then, fearless leader. I’ll be taking him to Arlathan this afternoon to stretch his wings, care to join us for some more rapport building?” Davrin offered her a hand as he spoke, pulling Rook to her feet as they caught sight of Harding and Bellara making their way over as well. Rook grinned at him.

“Absolutely! Today is perfect, I’m heading to Nevarra tomorrow and Rivain next week.” She filled him in quickly on the progress made by Harding and Bellara just as the duo arrived to join them.

Davrin turned towards the door, holding it open for the group as they filed into the kitchen where Lucanis was preparing to plate their meals. She caught his eye, meeting his smile with one of her own as Davrin continued chatting to her. “Alright then, meet me at the eluvian after breakfast. Sounds like you’ll be pretty busy for a while, so this is our best chance.”

Lucanis inclined his head to her as she approached, a question in his eyes as he passed her a plate. “Davrin and I are heading to Arlathan to play with-um, to train Assan today. As for tomorrow, do you have any plans?” Lucanis shook his head at her question, allowing the rest of the team to collect their own plates as he followed her to the table. 

“I have a feeling I’m about to.” He sighed as they took their seats, waiting for her to make her request.

“Bel and I are heading to Nevarra tomorrow-” Rook was interrupted by Bellara’s excited chatter.

“Oh, Lucanis! You should definitely come. We’re going to the Grand Necropolis!” Rook winced at the reminder.

“Yes, we are. Bellara found us a Fade expert. So we’re going to meet him. Harding already said no.” Rook glared at Harding as she spoke, who shrugged back.

“Sorry Rook! I’m just not in the mood for an underground, undead adventure.” Harding spoke around a mouthful of food, and Davrin grinned across the table at Rook.

“What’s the matter Rook, afraid of a few demons? I’d think you’d be used to them.” He leaned forward as he spoke, a playful challenge in his eyes as his gaze flickered between her and Lucanis.

“Demons aren’t an issue, undead on the other hand… Unless you’d like to accompany us, Davrin?” Rook kicked at him under the table as she spoke, which he swiftly avoided.

“Oh no, you brought me on for fighting monsters, not corpses.” Davrin glanced at Lucanis again as he continued. “So, you have no problem with demons, but undead cross the line?” 

Rook shook her head at him as she muttered, “Now who’s scared?”

Bellara made an exasperated noise. “Undead are normal in Nevarra! Why are we planning for a fight, anyway? We’re just going to talk to the professor.” 

Rook looked dubiously at Bellara as Lucanis piped up. “It is always a fight. Every time. When has there not been a fight?” 

Bellara considered Lucanis’ words as she chewed, before relenting. “I guess that’s fair.”

Lucanis nodded, polishing off his second mug of coffee. “I’ll go with the both of you tomorrow then.” The team finished the rest of their breakfast while engaged in lively conversation about the various rumors that surrounded Nevarra, and their mysterious Grand Necropolis. Rook stayed behind as they finished to help Lucanis tidy up, agreeing to meet Davrin shortly. 

Lucanis waited until the doors to the kitchen closed behind the last person before addressing Rook again. “I spoke to Davrin this morning.” She eyed him carefully, catching something strange in his tone.

“Oh? Spoke, or argued?” She noticed the tension in the set of his shoulders then, there was a nervousness about him that gave her pause.

Lucanis cleared his throat slightly before he continued. “Spoke. He asked about you and I… Ah, us.” Rook raised her eyebrows, Lucanis wasn’t looking at her as he spoke, he was trying to hide an obvious blush. “He’s observed that we spend our nights together. He asked if it was a secret and I… was unsure. I didn’t deny his suspicions.”

Rook was a little surprised. She thought she’d made her feelings clear when they spoke in the pantry. The opinions of their team mattered to her in most cases, but this was not one of them. Surely, she was allowed to be with whomever she chose. Viago’s opinion was one thing, but their friends? She wasn’t intentionally keeping any secrets, and she hadn’t considered that he might be. 

“I told you before, in the pantry. I don’t care what Davrin or anyone else thinks of me being with you. And I’ll tell Viago too, eventually. I just-” She paused, horrible realization sinking in her gut. “Do… do you care?” She’d been so focused on assuring Lucanis that she wasn’t ashamed of a relationship with him, that she’d never stopped to consider the possibility that he didn’t want to be publicly entangled with her.

Insecurity rose like a tidal wave, sudden and all-encompassing. She was, until recently, a disgraced Crow of House De Riva. A former slave, purchased by the House of the Fifth Talon. Lucanis was the famed Demon of Vyrantium, grandson to the First Talon. Was he too polite to say anything? Or, even worse, was this purely a physical need he was fulfilling, not something to be shared openly with others? She’d nearly made that mistake once before, and the idea that she might have misread this so completely was horrifying. She was effectively holding her breath as she waited for his answer.

—

Lucanis considered Rook’s question, avoiding her eyes, lest he lose track of his thoughts. Did he care? Certainly, he thought he’d made that clear by now. The last thing he wanted was to make her life more difficult, which he’d already done. And if she eventually decided he wasn’t what she wanted? That was a possibility he hated to consider, but he had to.

There was a thrill in knowing that she’d chosen him, but there was also risk that he couldn't ignore. His position in the Crows would inevitably paint a target on her back. It was one thing to maintain the appearance of comrades, or mere professionals on a contract together. It would be quite another for Lucanis to openly flaunt a relationship with her.

“I know you say you do not mind,” He started slowly, weighing his words carefully, “But there are certainly reputations to consider. Our respective positions.” 

“Our positions.” She echoed him lowly, but Lucanis was too preoccupied by his thoughts to register the edge in her voice as he nodded.

“Especially while the seat of First Talon is still uncertain. It’s something I have to keep in mind.”

“I didn’t know our positions held such weight. My mistake.” Lucanis was surprised by the unexpected slam of the kitchen door, and he whipped around to see that he was suddenly alone. Confusion bloomed, and he found himself turning to look at Spite, hovering just behind him.

“Was she angry?” He felt stupid asking the demon. But Spite nodded vigorously. You UPSET her. Spite stated what should have been obvious as though it were sage wisdom. Lucanis frowned, he hadn’t even been done speaking yet. He sat down, trying to think back through the short conversation, when the doors opened once more. Harding peeked inside, looking a little bit nervous as she entered.

“Hey! Lucanis. What’s uh, going on?” Harding failed at feigning nonchalance, she was a terrible liar.

Lucanis sighed and shook his head. “I’m not entirely sure.” He watched Harding wearily as she made her way to where he’d settled himself, taking the chair beside him.

“Did you and Rook get into an argument? She was… pretty pissed off just now.” Harding crossed her arms, looking at him expectantly. Lucanis frowned, glancing back at the kitchen doors. Harding spoke up again as if she’d read his mind. “Oh, I wouldn’t follow her. We’ve had the rare disagreement here and there, and you don’t follow her when she gets like that.”

Lucanis put his hands out. “We didn’t argue! I didn’t think we were arguing.” He was feeling rather lost. She had asked him what he thought, and he’d been only partway through answering when she stormed out. 

“What’s going on with you two? What happened?” Harding pushed, and Lucanis felt a rush of embarrassment.

“I… Rook and I have been, well, we’ve grown close.” Lucanis stared at Harding, waiting for her to understand, but she stared back blankly. “I mean, romantically. Close.” His cheeks burned as he spoke, this was neither how or when he’d pictured sharing this. 

Harding looked briefly surprised, before understanding settled over her features. “Oh! Oh, I see. That’s strange. Well, not you two being together, I mean! Just, Rook, you know. She’s always said she just wanted to focus on the job, especially after the last-” Harding stopped suddenly, seeming to reconsider her words. “What happened then? What did you do?”

Lucanis shot her a withering glare, feeling defensive. “Nothing. Why are you assuming I did something?” Harding didn’t get the chance to answer, the kitchen doors swung open once more, Bellara appearing before them.

“Do you guys know what’s up with Rook? She was, like, really mad just now. She practically dragged Davrin through the eluvian.” Bellara joined the two of them, taking the remaining seat. Harding nodded, and to Lucanis’ horror, responded before he could.

“Lovers quarrel. She’s been seeing Lucanis, and he did something.” Bellara’s eyes went wide, her mouth dropping open comically. 

“No way. Lucanis, what’d you do?”

“I don’t know!” Lucanis snapped, his frustration bubbling over. “We were talking. Specifically about this, telling you all of you about us, and then she got mad and left.” Lucanis crossed his arms over his chest, watching as Harding and Bellara looked at each other in confusion. 

“Well… what exactly did you say?” Bellara offered, leaning forward in her chair eagerly. Lucanis waved a hand through the air.

“She asked if I cared about telling you all, if it bothered me. I told her we ought to consider the repercussions, and our respective roles. I…” He hesitated then, dropping his eyes to his lap. “I don’t want my… situation, to reflect poorly on her. Even if she says she doesn’t care, she could change her mind. It is still early.” He looked up at them both expectantly. Bellara was covering her mouth with her hands, and she looked at Harding, who appeared horrified. Lucanis’ frustration only deepened. “What? I'm missing something, clearly.”

Harding scooted her chair closer to his to take one of his hands in hers, and he suppressed a flinch. “Lucanis, I’m going to explain it in a way that might make some sense.” She spoke slowly, as if he were a child, or exceptionally stupid. “You told Rook, an elf, who has never been with anyone, ever, that you, a human of vastly different social standing, needed to consider your ‘respective roles,’ when determining whether or not you tell your friends about your relationship.” Lucanis stared at her for a moment longer, and briefly considered that perhaps he was exceptionally stupid. It sounded bad from that perspective. 

He opened his mouth to speak, and then closed it once more, reconsidering. Bellara took the opportunity to drop her hands from her mouth, turning to Harding. “This is just like one of my serials! Oh, poor Rook.” Bellara shuddered then. “Oh, and also poor Davrin. He has no idea.” Lucanis was at a loss. He’d never considered that she might take his answer in that direction, clearly an oversight.

She’d plainly told him in the pantry that she’d been treated as less throughout her life. She was clear about her feelings, she'd never been anything but honest with him. And when she all but directly asked him for reassurance, he’d confirmed her fears instead. Harding’s voice brought him back to the present, the squeeze of her hand centering him. “Lucanis, that isn’t what you meant. I get that. But Rook doesn’t need you trying to shield her from some hypothetical blemish on her reputation. In fact, trying to do that will only hurt her.”

He heard the snarling of Spite, listening intently as Harding spoke. HURT. Rook. He cast an accusatory look at Lucanis. “I… that was foolish of me.” He admitted, deflating slightly in his chair. Bellara nodded sympathetically, before perking up.

“But, now, you know what went wrong, and you can fix it! This is usually my favorite part of the story, in every one of the serials-” Bellara stopped at a look from Harding, clearing her throat. “Right. Not a serial, real life. Um, you should probably talk to her when she gets back, clear things up.” 

Lucanis nodded. “Yes, I will. Perhaps I will offer to spend the night in the pantry again, give her some space.” Harding and Bellara looked at each other.

“You’ve been sleeping together?!” Harding had gone bright pink, and Bellara was covering her mouth again. Lucanis raised his hands in placation, flushing in turn.

“I-No! Well, yes. Not like that. I mean, we do things, but not- mierda.” He was making this worse with every word. “I’ve just been staying in her room since the dragon attack. At first it was to make sure she was okay, after she was wounded. And then…” He sighed, but they were both still staring at him. “I care about Rook. I would never, I mean, this isn’t just about sex.”

Bellara nodded. “You definitely need to tell her that.” Harding hesitated, tucking a lock of hair that had come loose behind her ear.

“Lucanis… That’s a sore subject for Rook. It made sense that she was angry, what you said was stupid, but that detail… changes things. She’s probably pretty upset. Maybe I should go try to find her and Davrin…” She glanced back at the kitchen door, sighing. Lucanis frowned, Teia’s warning resurfacing in his mind. Harding was watching him, her eyes soft. “She hasn’t told you about that, huh?” She groaned, leaning back and rubbing at her eyes. “It’s not my place. But you definitely need to talk to her as soon as she gets back.” 

Lucanis nodded, that much was clear. He had to make up for this misunderstanding, somehow. He hesitated, considering Harding and Bellara, before deciding he had nothing to lose. “I need to apologize, properly. Would you be able to... help me?” Harding and Bellara both brightened instantly, a resounding ‘yes’ from both of them. He would make this right.

Chapter Text

Rook and Davrin were truffle hunting with Assan in relative silence. Rook’s mind was a thousand miles away, still fuming and hurt by Lucanis’ revelation. She felt stupid, like a foolish girl who’d never learned from her past mistakes. How much of it was real? Their alliance, surely, Lucanis had been sincere with her on that. But, the flirting? Everything they’d done? Was it all just casual for him?

Rook swore, pulling back from the bush she’d been elbow deep searching in. Davrin glanced back at her, and she muttered, “Thorn.” before she continued on to the next bush.

“Uh-huh.” He watched her carefully, and she knew he was probably confused. She’d still been furious when they left the lighthouse, almost unable to contain her anger and embarrassment as she pulled him along with her. She caught sight of Assan then, snuffling at the ground. She motioned Davrin over, and they examined him. “What is it, boy? Is it fleas? I told you.” Davrin sighed, but Rook squinted at the griffon, he had something in his beak.

“No I… think it’s a truffle. Could Assan know that nugs like truffles? Maybe we should follow him.” Davrin looked skeptical, glancing between her and Assan.

“Are you that smart, boy?” He murmured, watching Assan as the griffon cocked his head back and forth, before letting out an enthusiastic squawk .

“Only one way to find out.” Rook smiled at Davrin, getting to her feet as Assan rushed ahead of them.

They walked after him, keeping a leisurely pace. “So,” Davrin started, and Rook tensed as he spoke, “Are we gonna talk about why we left the lighthouse in such a hurry?” Rook kicked at a rock in their path, eyes downcast. “And why you’ve been so grouchy this whole time?”

She snapped back. “I have not been grouchy.” Davrin smiled at her, clearly amused. She sighed, shoulders sagging. “Well, I guess you already know. Lucanis said he talked to you this morning about…” She blushed a little, “Well, about us.” Davrin nodded, watching her cautiously. “I mean, well, I thought there was an us. I’m worried I… misinterpreted some things.” Rook could feel tears stinging at her eyes, and she looked away quickly.

“Rook…” Davrin shifted uncomfortably beside her. “I mean, we didn’t have a heart-to-heart or anything. I just asked him why he comes out of your room every morning, and he said you were… close.” Rook nodded, unable to respond due to the lump that had formed in her throat. Davrin rushed to continue. “I mean, I don’t know what’s going on here. But he seemed to think there was an ‘us,’ between the two of you. Said you were just keeping it on the down-low, because of your different Crow Houses or something.”

Rook nodded, swallowing her tears as her anger resurfaced. “Yeah, my Talon is… protective. For good reason. Now I see why, again.” She moved ahead of Davrin as they crossed over a fallen log. “I’ve never really been in a relationship.” She lowered her voice slightly, gloom settling over her like fog.

“Really? That’s a bit of a shock, actually.” Davrin moved to walk beside her again, grinning. “You’re a catch!” Rook offered him a watery smile.

“Nice of you to say. There was almost something, once. Or so I thought.” She scowled, thinking back to the crushing end to her past 'crush.' “I told Viago everything back then, and he saw danger when I didn’t. It was… it was never about me, for that guy. He was another Crow and he only… It was only about what he thought I could do for him.” She didn’t talk about this often, it was embarrassing and private. A moment of youthful stupidity that had scared her off pursuing future affections. Until Lucanis, at least. And now, she was feeling like an idiot once more.

“That’s rough. I’ve been there, once or twice.” Davrin spoke genuinely, and Rook looked at him in surprise. “You know how it is, sometimes some charming human wants a roll in the hay with a handsome, exotic elf. Or, pretty, in your case. But that’s all it is, and you’re none the wiser, until you’re left worse for wear.” Davrin said it like it was so simple, just a fact of life.

“I… yeah. But, I didn’t think Lucanis was like that. And he seemed so…” Rook trailed off once more, and Davrin patted her on the shoulder. 

“You know, Rook, I’m not a big fan of the guy. But, I gotta be honest, he doesn’t strike me as that type either. Seemed to me like he cares about you.” As they caught up with Assan, they saw a whole pack of nugs, and the baby griffon ran at them gleefully as they scattered. Davrin knelt down, and Rook joined him in the dirt. “Well, I’ll be damned. Gingerwort truffles.” Davrin turned to Rook, a wide grin on his face.

His joy was contagious, and Rook found herself beaming right back. “See? I told you he was smart!” The two of them settled in to relax as Assan ate his truffles, taking breaks to run and play in a nearby stream.

“So. You still didn’t tell me what actually happened between you and Lucanis.” Davrin had picked up a stick as he spoke, and he poked idly at Rook’s boot with it. She kicked it away, sighing. 

“I asked him if he cared if the team knew about us, our… relationship. Whatever it is.” She found a stick of her own, and began drawing shapes in the dirt with it. “I’ve spent all this time reassuring him that I don’t care about Spite. Or what people think. That nothing about being with him makes me ashamed. And then it was just… I felt stupid. I hadn’t even considered that he’d be ashamed to be with me.” Davrin frowned as she spoke, but remained silent. Rook continued, quieter now. “And when I asked? He said… that we had to consider our positions.” She tossed her stick then, anger flaring once more.

Davrin hummed in understanding. “Ah, now I see. The anger is starting to make sense.” Rook nodded, picking at her boot straps. “You sure that’s what he meant though?” Rook cocked her head at Davrin, his eyes trailing after Assan as he chased after a fish.

“I don’t know what else he could’ve meant. Seemed clear enough to me.” Davrin shook his head, shifting to stand. He reached down, pulling Rook to her feet as well. 

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that, Rook. Lucanis is a smooth guy. But, he’s still a guy. I think there’s a good chance this isn’t what you think. Talk to him when we get back, hear him out.” Davrin whistled to Assan as he finished, and they started their trek back to the eluvian. 

Rook waited a few minutes, mulling over his words, before she spoke up again. “And what if… what if it is what I thought?” She couldn’t keep the slight tremble from her voice as she spoke. “What then?” She wasn’t even sure she wanted a real answer, but Davrin was quick to respond. 

“Then we go tell Harding. Let her push him off the edge of the lighthouse, and go get drunk once it’s finished.” Rook was startled, laughter bubbling up in a mixture of surprise and delight. Davrin smiled, joining in with his own baritone chuckle.

They let Assan lead them back through the forest, chatting about a variety of topics as they went. Davrin told her about the Dalish clan he grew up in, as well as how he came to be a monster hunter turned Warden. Rook listened with interest, she always enjoyed learning about people of different backgrounds and walks of life. She told him in turn about her early childhood, of which she remembered little, working as a galley slave in Tevinter, and then about growing up in Antiva with Viago.

“So, Viago, your Crow Master,” Davrin began to ask, and she quickly corrected him.

“Talon. We call the heads of our houses Talons. You know, like on a bird. Viago is the Fifth, Lucanis’ grandmother was the First.”

“Got it,” Davrin continued, “He bought you as a slave? Why?” 

Rook contemplated his question, and how best to answer it. “It’s… complicated. It’s not all that uncommon for Crow houses to buy out slave contracts to recruit new Crows. But, that isn’t exactly what happened. Viago was on a contract when he and I… crossed paths.”

Davrin raised an eyebrow. “That sounds like a story.” Rook nodded, smiling grimly.

“It is. Short version, I’d already mostly killed his mark. And then I tried to stab Viago with a dinner knife. Instead of killing me, Viago saw potential. He covered up the murder as a Crow hit, claimed the contract as his own. He bought me out and brought me back to Antiva with him. But…” Rook hesitated then, this was always the tricky part. “He didn’t outright tell me I had to be a Crow, I didn't even know what they were at the time. He just brought me home with him, and he took care of me, he didn't send me to the training barracks. And then he started teaching me to protect myself. I just sort of… knew, I guess, after a certain point. He handled everything from there.”

Davrin had questions, as she knew he would. “You killed somebody as a little kid? Also, what’d you mean by mostly?”

Rook shrugged. “Yes, I was a child. But, I got lucky, or, unlucky. Depends how you look at it, Viago chose to see it as natural talent. And, the mark wasn’t all the way dead when Viago came in. He definitely would have died, slowly though. It was… bloody. Viago just sped up the job.” 

Davrin nodded, they were almost back the Veil Jumper camp that housed the eluvian. “Got it. It’s one hell of a childhood, I’ll give you that.” Rook laughed. She knew it sounded unpleasant to most people. Harding and Varric had been properly horrified when she eventually rehashed the story to them. But in truth, Rook felt she’d ended up exactly where she belonged. Viago was good to her, hard on her, certainly. But good, overall. The training was brutal, but so was life, she had learned that very young. Viago had simply given her the tools she needed to survive, and she was grateful for that. It was a debt she could never repay. 

She and Davrin greeted various Veil Jumpers as they arrived back at the camp, stopping briefly so he could purchase a new whittling blade, before they passed through the eluvian and into the Crossroads. When they settled in the Caretaker’s boat, Davrin spoke up again. “You know, there’s something else I just thought of.” Rook glanced over at him, motioning for him to speak with an inclination of her head. “When we get in or out of this damned boat, Lucanis always rushes to help you, even though you don’t need it. Not really the actions of a man who’s just in it for some carnal satisfaction.” 

Rook flushed at the bluntness of Davrin’s words, and opened her mouth to protest, before the truth of what he’d said settled over her. She’d never once given it much thought, but he was right. “I… I guess that’s true.” Was all she could think to say, and they sat in silence until the Caretaker docked them once more. As they stepped out of the boat Davrin grabbed her by the shoulder, stopping her from walking down the dock.

“Alright now, remember the plan? Hear him out. Then decide if you wanna kill him. And let me watch if you do.” Rook snorted, swatting his hand off of her shoulder as they headed back towards the lighthouse eluvian. Davrin was a very good man, Rook was coming to realize.

“I’m gonna head to the kitchen, we can walk together.” She offered, and Davrin nodded. 

“Sounds good, I have’t gotten sick of you just yet.” He teased, and she laughed as they stepped through the eluvian.

Rook’s laugh faltered, replaced by surprise as she arrived back at the lighthouse. Lucanis was already waiting for them, leaning against the doorway to the eluvian room. Davrin was right on her heels, looking equally surprised. He glanced down at Rook, and then over at Lucanis. “Well, new plan. That’s my cue.” He headed straight for the doorway, Assan at his side. He paused just before he left, and Lucanis didn’t acknowledge him as he murmured a warning. “Watch yourself, Crow.” 

And then, they were alone. 

Chapter Text

Lucanis spent most of the day in the company of Harding and Bellara. It would have been pleasant, were it not for the fact that he knew Rook was out in Arlathan forest, apparently under the impression that he thought she was beneath him. The idea that Rook would think he was ashamed to be with her had seemed ludicrous at first, but his conversations with Harding and Bellara brought clarity to the issue at hand.

Rook was giggling when she returned, likely at something Davrin had said before they came in. He was temporarily relieved that she wasn’t upset anymore, but she went quiet when she saw him. Davrin at least seemed to read the room, and left quickly. Lucanis barely registered his thinly veiled threat as he passed by, his focus was on Rook. 

He took a cautious step towards her, forcing his nerves down. “Rook…” He hesitated a moment before continuing. “I am so sorry. Earlier, I didn’t consider my words. How it would make you feel.” He’d practically rehearsed this apology with Harding and Bellara, but already he was stumbling. “I never meant… mierda, this is difficult. I adore you, Rook. I am not ashamed of you.” Rook hadn’t moved while he spoke, even as he continued to inch closer.

She wasn’t looking at him, eyes fixed down on her boots. Her face was neutral, but he could see the tension in her. He knew her. Knew her heart, her habits, her body. And still, there was so much he had yet to learn. Pieces of her history and her mind, the little things that made up who she was. Today, he’d found out she loved honey from Harding, and Bellara informed him that she was fond of purple flowers, despite not knowing any of their names. 

“I only want to know you better. And I worry,” Lucanis swallowed hard, he was close enough now that he could touch her, “I worry that as you get to know me… you won’t like what you find out. You’ll... change your mind.” Rook moved suddenly, leaving him no chance to react as she pulled him into a crushing hug, burying her face against his chest. He inhaled sharply, before wrapping his arms around her in turn.

He sometimes forgot just how strong she was, she was gripping him tight enough that it almost hurt, yet he couldn’t get enough. “I’m sorry, I should’ve told you how I felt. Instead I ran off, it was childish.” Rook’s voice was thick with tears, and Lucanis was breathless for the millionth time with how deeply Rook seemed to feel things, how easily she shared herself with those around her. “I know you better than to think… It was so stupid, even Davrin thought so, and he doesn’t even like you. It’s just…” Rook still hadn’t looked at him, and all Lucanis could do was hold her as she talked and sniffled against him. “Nobody’s ever wanted me.” Her words were so quiet and muffled against Lucanis’ clothes, that he might have missed them were it not for the complete silence of the eluvian room, and the fact that he was already hanging on her every word.

The sentiment hit like a gut punch. A deep, piercing loneliness that Lucanis only recognized from experience. The life of a Crow was hardly one that lent itself to meaningful relationships. People died, or betrayed you, or killed you. Lucanis had learned to deal with the loneliness in his own way, clinging to family and duty while keeping everyone else at a healthy distance.

Rook had done almost the exact opposite, rejecting personal safety in a desperate bid for connection, consequences be damned. Rescuing strangers from Antaam and earning the ire of her House; saving Treviso from a dragon only to be blamed by Minrathous as it burned; giving her loyalty and affection freely to an abomination, yet feeling the sting of perceived rejection in return. 

“Rook,” Lucanis called to her gently, she was holding him as though he might disappear. “Look at me. Please.” He cupped her face in his hands as she tilted her chin up, wiping at her tears with his thumbs. “I want you.” He was desperate to reassure her, to make her see that his earlier doubts were not an indication of rejection or shame. “I want you.” He murmured again, leaning in to place earnest kisses against her tear streaked cheeks, her forehead, her nose, her lips. 

Gradually, Rook calmed and her tears slowed. She stepped back from him slightly, and he allowed her, but kept his hands firmly on her shoulders. She pressed her palms against her eyes, rubbing the last vestiges of her tears away. “Sorry,” She mumbled, “I cry a lot. Bothers Viago.” Lucanis shook his head slightly.

“It does not bother me.” He traced the side of her jaw with his fingers as he spoke. “Although, I would prefer not to be the cause.” Rook nodded, stepping forward to embrace him once more.

“Me too.” She sighed against him.

Lucanis moved to lead her out of the eluvian room. He paused at the stairs leading back up into the library. “Ah, Harding and Bellara might be… waiting.” He spoke lowly, embarrassment creeping up his cheeks. “I spoke with them while you were away. At length.” Rook nodded at him.

“Davrin is probably up there too, we talked as well. I think he might be waiting to see if I’m going to let him kill you.” She smiled as she spoke. “But, he also told me I should hear you out first.”

Lucanis snorted at the idea. “Davrin could not kill me.” He took her hand in his, and headed up the stairs. As expected, all three of them were sitting around the library table, trying very hard to appear casual. Assan was laying at Davrin’s feet, but he squawked when they appeared, rising to greet Rook. 

Davrin raised his eyebrows, eyes drifting from Rook’s red-rimmed eyes to her hand, firmly in Lucanis’ own. “So… not throwing him over the edge of the lighthouse, then?” Davrin didn’t keep the disappointment from his voice, and Harding whacked at him while Bellara giggled.

Lucanis smirked, meeting his eyes, “Not this time, Warden.” Davrin sighed heavily, standing up and stretching as he did.

“Shame. Come on, Assan.” Davrin made to leave, Harding and Bellara scurrying after him. Rook went to follow them, but Lucanis tugged her back, leading her to the stairs instead. She looked at him quizzically.

“It’s Bel’s night to cook…” She trailed off as Lucanis pulled her wordlessly up the stairs behind him and down the hall to her room. Their room, as it was lately. He slowed as they reached the door, nervous once again. He glanced back at Rook, who was studying him curiously. He turned around, pushing open the door to her room and pulling her inside.

—

Rook wasn’t sure what she’d expected when Lucanis nearly dragged her into the bedroom. He’d acted a little strange beforehand, but she’d put it down to nervousness after their emotional reunion in the eluvian room. As he led her by the hand around their shared lounge, she felt her heart constrict, a small gasp escaping her.

Her little table was adorned with a candle, a small vase of pale purple blooms, and two covered dishes.  Lucanis motioned for her to sit, his eyes soft as he smiled at her. “I thought you and I might take a meal on our own tonight. A date, a proper one.” Rook looked from him to the table, reaching out hesitantly to touch the flowers.

“I love these.” She murmured, the petals soft under fingers. Flowers of this color bloomed in the gardens of Salle where she had grown up. They always made her think of home. Lucanis shifted beside her.

“Yes, Bellara told me you liked them. And,” He was uncovering their dishes now, unveiling the meal he had prepared, “White fish, prepared in a honey-lime vinaigrette. I went to Treviso with Harding and Bellara to purchase everything fresh, Harding said it was something you would enjoy.” 

Rook was completely stunned. It was all so thoughtful, she couldn’t formulate the right words to express what it meant. She let Lucanis tug her down to sit beside him as he continued speaking. “I feel… there is still so much to learn about you. I wouldn’t have been able to pull this together, were it not for Harding and Bellara. I want to know those things, to learn them from you.” Rook met his gaze then, nodding slowly.

“Me too,” She took his hand in hers, “I want that too. And Lucanis?” She leaned in, kissing him on the cheek. “Thank you. I… I would never change my mind about you.” Lucanis was flushed, apparent relief and embarrassment mingling as he turned from her, fumbling to pour the wine. Rook glanced at the bottle, smiling slightly.

“Fancy choice.” She observed the label. Lucanis smiled as he slid her glass over. 

“Are you particular about your wine?” He asked, and Rook laughed, shaking her head. 

“No, actually, I’ll drink just about anything. But, Viago's a snob.” Lucanis chuckled at that, nodding.

They fell into a comfortable, eager conversation, trading questions over their meal. Rook learned that Lucanis enjoyed romance novels, and that he could knit, of all things. She told him about various mischief she’d gotten into as a child, and how Viago had placed actual bars on her window and a bell on her bedroom door at one point after a few too many breakouts. Lucanis had laughed at that, hard.

“Where were you trying to go?” He asked her, once he’d caught his breath. Rook shrugged through her own giggles. 

“I wanted to try and catch a cat to bring home! And they were always down by the water.”

Lucanis looked at her, bewildered. “Why did you want a cat so badly? And why was Viago so against it?” 

Rook smiled then, looking down at her cleared plate. “I was lonely! I only had Viago for company, outside of tutors, and he was busy. I don’t think he actually realized it was the cats I was after, he just didn’t want me going down to the water. I can’t swim, you know.” 

Lucanis seemed surprised by this. “You cannot swim? Still?” Rook shook her head, downing the last of her wine. “That seems rather dangerous. We live by the sea.” Rook shrugged in response.

“Well, I’ve made it this far, with only a few near-drowning scares. I just never picked it up, I panic in the water.” She sighed. “I'm just not built for swimming.” Lucanis shook his head, disbelieving, and Rook laced her fingers in his as she tucked her feet up under her on the lounge. 

She felt good, content. She couldn’t remember that last time she’d done something like this, it reminded her of the nights she’d spent at inns with Varric and Harding. The three of them would drink and trade stories late into the night until Varric eventually passed out, leaving Harding and Rook to giggle and gossip until they fell asleep. Lucanis squeezed her hand lightly, searching her face. “Tell me what you’re thinking.” His voice was soft, insistent.

She smiled, and she didn’t feel any embarrassment or shyness for once. Maybe it was the wine, or the warm energy that crackled between them. Regardless, in that moment, she felt like she could tell him anything.

—

Lucanis was watching Rook. Without thinking about it, he’d begged her to share her thoughts. He didn't want this night to end, he’d never had such easy conversation before. It felt like he should have known her his entire life, like they were always meant to be here, together. She smiled at him, unguarded warmth radiating from her.

“Just that this is nice. Reminds me of times with Varric and Harding, it was just the three of us for so long…” She trailed off, her eyes drifting down to their joined hands. Lucanis knew Varric was a difficult topic, not one she liked to talk about. So, he focused on Harding instead. 

“Harding is a good person. And she cares about you.” He hesitated slightly then, thinking back to his discussion with her that morning. “She mentioned something to me. About you.” He started slowly, and Rook groaned.

“Was it about the job in Orlais? Because I did not kick that nug on purpose, it was absolutely an accident. I am not scared of nugs.” Rook looked at him expectantly while he stared back at her blankly.

“What? No. That’s… we’ll come back to that.” He shook his head, temporarily thrown off. “When I was first talking to her and Bellara, about us. She said that, well, she implied that you might’ve had a prior relationship that didn’t end well. Teia said something similar.” Lucanis was worried that his words might upset her, or ruin the mood they’d cultivated, but Rook barely reacted, only looked at him thoughtfully for a moment.

“It wasn’t a relationship. And it was more embarrassing than anything else.” Rook shifted closer to him on the couch as she spoke, and he moved towards her on instinct, allowing her to settle her back against his chest. He couldn’t see her face as she spoke, but the closeness was a worthwhile exchange.

“I was still a fledgling. I met somebody that I liked, a Crow from another house. He made it seem… I thought he liked me too. But he was just interested in... It was only about…” Rook sighed lightly as she struggled for words. “I went out to meet him. It wasn’t what I thought, clearly. Not a nice date, like this. He’d brought friends, and it turned into a bit of a fight. I was lucky that Viago insisted on going with me.” 

Lucanis remained quiet as she spoke. Her tone was far too casual for the scenario she’d just described. He pictured her, young and excited for a first date, embarrassed that her guardian was chaperoning her. Only to find herself in a situation straight out of a nightmare, Crows from a rival house looking to take advantage of a fledgling. Rook’s voice breached the silence again, soft and sad. “You know, the worst part was that it was obvious to everyone but me. Viago knew it would be trouble, it’s why he went with me. But I was just so… I didn’t want to see it, so I didn’t. It was a hard lesson.”

Understanding settled like a stone in his stomach. Viago’s prickliness about Rook, the overprotective edge to Teia and Harding, her otherwise complete absence of romantic history. And her response to him that morning, how easily she believed that she was good enough to bed, but not to publicly court. It suddenly seemed like a severe under-reaction, and guilt bubbled once more at the pain he’d unwittingly inflicted. 

“Rook, I’m so sorry.” It was all he could say at first, and he pressed his cheek into her hair, pulling her tighter against him. She leaned into him, melting into his embrace as though it was where she’d always belonged. “That’s… not a lesson you should’ve had to learn.” His curiosity was stirring again, fresh anger at old wounds. “What happened to the other Crows? What House was he from?” He felt her shrug against him.

“Nero. Viago sent me home, and he never told me the details. Just said it was handled and told me to keep clear of House Nero. I used to ask him constantly, but he wouldn’t say anything more.” Lucanis was surprised that she didn’t sound more angry, there was only a quiet resignation about her. “He eventually told me that I had no right to know. Made it clear that I didn’t get to learn the outcome of battles he fought on my behalf. Fair enough, I suppose.”

Lucanis felt disagreement rising in his chest, it absolutely did not feel fair, but he doubted he would change her mind. She had an air of defeat that indicated she’d come to terms with this long ago. Still, Lucanis tucked that piece of information away for later. He dropped his arms from around Rook, and she took the opportunity to turn and face him as they adjusted more comfortably back on the lounge. 

“So. What about you?” Rook prompted him, and he frowned, confused by her question. She must have read the bewilderment in his face, and she continued. “I mean, you’re you. I’m sure you’ve had other relationships.”

Lucanis laughed at that, low and bitter. “Ah, no. I’ve had physical entanglements. To fulfill an urge, to satiate boredom, or to gain the upper hand for a contract, rarely. That's more Illario's department.” Rook didn’t seem bothered by this, it wasn’t an uncommon tactic amongst the Crows. “But relationships are new territory. I had a… crush, once. Or twice. Didn’t pan out.” He met her eyes, softening instantly. “Nobody… I’ve never met somebody like you.”

Rook blushed, dropping her gaze. Lucanis reached for her face, tilting her chin up to catch her eyes once more. “I mean it.” He never wanted her to doubt him on this, and as he pressed his lips to hers, he hoped she could feel the depth of his sincerity. She reached for him as they kissed, pulling him closer. She tasted of wine and honey, delicious and sweet.

Chapter Text

Rook imagined that the thrill of kissing Lucanis would never dim, she could never grow used to touching and being touched by him. He was always warm, his fingers like fire against her skin, his desire palpable with every breath. There was a raw honesty in their moments of intimacy that made her feel like she could see every part of him through his touch, and that he saw her too. While she had nothing to compare it to, she had to believe it was special, a unique byproduct of their strong connection.

As their lips moved in synchronicity, Lucanis’ hands trailed from her face down her neck, lingering at her collarbones before slipping under the fabric of her shirt, coming to rest for a moment on her shoulders. She hadn’t geared up in any armor when she went to Arlathan with Davrin that morning, she was in such a rush to leave. It had been foolish and reckless, but she was glad for it now, and Lucanis wasted no time undressing her. 

She reached up in response, undoing the front of his shirt as the heat between them only seemed to intensify. She wasn’t as nervous tonight, emboldened by the wine and his declarations of affection. She brought her hands to his face again when she finished unbuttoning him, running her fingers through his beard. “Lucanis,” she murmured his name between kisses, and he responded by lifting her into his lap, running his hands up her sides as he settled her against him once more. 

“I never tire of hearing you say my name.” He spoke lowly to her as his hands drifted up over her breasts. The feel of his fingers against her was electric, and she leaned in to him, hungry for more as he drew breathy moans from her with practiced ease. Rook pressed one palm against his chest to feel his pounding heart, inescapable proof that she affected him just as much as he did her. She ground herself down onto him, his hardness pressing into her inner thigh as he growled low in her ear. 

She pulled back, catching his eyes. They were dark with desire, a flash of purple visible amidst the umber depths. He tugged her back into him, catching her lips in another ardent kiss, one of his hands tangling in her hair at the base of her neck. He held her against him, kissing her breathless and leaving her lightheaded. She pushed his shirt down over his shoulders as he lifted her, setting her back against the cushions. He rose up on his knees, undoing his pants as his eyes roamed her body. She got to work unlacing her own trousers, allowing him to slide them off of her, along with her underwear. 

He descended on her with renewed urgency, his lips closing over one nipple while his fingers caught the other. She wound her hand into his hair, gasping and squirming under the pleasure of his burning touch. His teeth grazed her nipple, and she shivered at the sensation as his tongue quickly followed. He repeated the action before moving to the other one breast, dropping a hand between her legs to trail his fingers through her center. 

He was teasing her, brushing against her with maddeningly light strokes. She whined as he sucked at the tender skin of her breasts, her hips bucking up towards his fingers. “Lucanis, please.” She found herself begging, as she so often did. How quickly he could bring her to this point, desperate for something only he could provide. He lifted his mouth from her heaving chest, moving to place his lips at her ear. “Always so polite,” Spite’s voice mingled with Lucanis', and she shivered as he licked along the shell of her ear, “Have patience.” 

She caught another hint of violet in his eyes as he pulled back, and he hitched her knees over his shoulders. She knew what was coming, but she still arched and trembled at the warmth of his breath over her core. The first pass of his tongue drew a needy yelp from her lips, and she rocked against him as he placed kisses against her outer lips, drawing closer and closer to where she needed, only to pull away again. 

Rook unclenched one fist from the cushions to place it against the back of his head, curling her fingers in his hair as she tried to draw him closer. He chuckled, a low rumble in his chest, and the light brush of his breath and beard against her was sweet torture. He allowed her to guide him against her, and he ran his tongue through her folds as he closed his mouth over her. She moaned without reservation, pressing her heels into his back, desperate to keep him close. 

She nearly cried out in frustration as he withdrew his tongue again, tilting his chin up to gaze at her through his lashes, a sly smile dancing across his lips as he asked, “Is that what you want?” She looked down at him, flushing at the sight of him between her legs, his fingers drifting up and down the outsides of her thighs. 

“I…” She could hear the whine in her own voice, the need. “I just want you.” It was the only phrase she could manage, and it must have been the right one. Lucanis’ eyes went wide for a split second, an emotion she couldn't place crossing his features as his grip tightened on her legs. She dropped her head back against the cushions with a gasp as he pressed his tongue against her clit, releasing one of her legs to slide a finger inside her. 

A second digit joined the first, stretching and curling inside of her as she rocked against his mouth. His tongue and fingers were simultaneously too much and not enough against her most sensitive spots. Just as she started to adjust, he would pick up pressure and speed, sending her into a fit of breathless cries as she writhed. He did this repeatedly, until she was nearly seeing stars, her thighs trembling around him. He’d begun stroking himself at some point, and she could feel his breathing as it ticked upward, every puff of hot air against her only adding to the cacophony of sensation. 

Rook inhaled sharply as she felt the stretch of a third finger, and he pressed in slowly as he applied gentle suction against her clit, until he was up to his knuckles inside of her. She turned her face to the side, one hand flying to her mouth to stifle the sounds he was pulling from her. Lucanis withdrew his mouth for just a moment, his voice intwined with Spite’s ordering her, “Let us hear you.” 

She lowered both hands to the back of his head as he continued, pumping his fingers inside of her with increasing speed as he lavished attention on her clit with his tongue. He kept up a steady rhythm, and it took very little time before her cries of pleasure shifted higher in pitch, and she locked her ankles together around his back as she came. Her orgasm sent shockwaves through her, and he slowly withdrew his fingers from her, lubricating himself with the result of her climax.

“Wait,” She gasped, and he looked up at her as she motioned for him to join her. He moved up the lounge, and she took him in her hand, the catch of his breath a clear indication of his pleasure. He kissed her roughly, his hand finding hers as he reached his own release, groaning into her mouth as he held her fingers around his cock. 

They laid side by side, each of them taking the moment to catch their breaths. Lucanis’ forehead was resting against her shoulder as he trailed his fingers in lazy patterns across her stomach, tracing delicately over the shiny pink skin of the developing scar from the dragon. It reminded her of Spite’s actions, and she wondered idly how similar their desires were, and if that potential harmony could extend beyond the bedroom. She reached behind her to pull the blanket over their hips, and Lucanis shifted onto his back, tugging her beside him with a sigh.

“How’s Spite?” She asked, breaking the silence. Lucanis snorted, placing his arm nearest to Rook around her shoulders as she rested her head on his chest.

“Tired, I think. But he gets excited when you say his name.” Lucanis’ arm tightened slightly around her. “I… should have asked you, before letting him-” Rook shook her head against his chest.

“No, no. I would have said something if it wasn’t okay. You know that.” Rook felt him hesitate, as though he wanted to say more, before he relaxed again, running his fingers up and down her arm rhythmically. 

She closed her eyes, allowing the feel of his hands on her skin and his heartbeat in her ear to lull her to sleep.

— 

Lucanis focused on the pattern of Rook’s breathing as it shifted, slowing and deepening as she fell asleep against him. He watched the warped light from the fish tank dance across the ceiling as he replayed everything in his mind. A rough start to the day had somehow led to him feeling even closer with her than before. 

Tomorrow, they would head out to Nevarra to meet their Fade expert. Lucanis felt a trickle of irritation. He wouldn’t admit it, but he agreed with Davrin when it came to Solas. It felt like a steep risk, allowing him to maintain this blood magic connection, feeding them scraps of information through Rook. The world is at stake. That was they reasoning they all fell back on, but was this really the only way? What would the cost be, down the line?

Spite’s voice drifted across the lounge, and Lucanis didn’t need to look to know the demon was laying on the other side of Rook. She rests, now. The dreams do not come. YET. Lucanis frowned at the ceiling as he quietly asked, “You know when she dreams?” YES. The demon rasped back, a straightforward answer, for once. Lucanis shifted his arm down, pulling the blanket up to cover Rook’s shoulders. He could still feel Spite resting there, but the demon had fallen silent, apparently content for the moment. 

Lucanis allowed himself to doze, falling into the familiar routine of hovering at the edges of true sleep, before pulling himself back from the brink. He’d done this several times, and was in a period of wakefulness when he heard a low hiss from Spite. NOW. Now she dreams. Lucanis said nothing, but the demon knew he was listening, words were more a formality than a necessity between them. Nothing about Rook had changed, she was still and quiet against him. But Spite’s agitated whispers continued. FEAR. She does not see the chains as they FORM. Not yet. WE cannot let it be. 

Lucanis would normally tune this out, but Rook’s words snagged in his mind. It makes sense to Spite, just not to us. “Whatever it is,” He murmured, closing his eyes once more, “We’ll figure it out.” Lucanis felt a strange calm settle over him, the usual internal discord of Spite’s feelings scraping against his quieting. While he never allowed sleep to fully take him, that night was one of the most peaceful he’d had since before the Ossuary.

Chapter Text

Two weeks passed before Lucanis and Rook were able to plan their next trip to Treviso. Emmrich, the Nevarran necromancer, joined them willingly after their journey to assist him in the Grand Necropolis. Rook was able to mask her discomfort with the undead, for the most part, and she’d even come to enjoy Emmrich’s skeletal assistant, Manfred. 

They recruited Taash, their Qunari dragon hunter in Rivain, next. She was less keen on joining them at first, in large part due to the overbearing way in which her mother volunteered her to the team. Still, she was a welcome addition and quickly warmed up to Rook and Lucanis, as she’d maintained a childhood fascination with Antivan Crows. 

Neve also returned to them, though the situation in Minrathous was still grim. Rook felt the familiar flood of guilt all over again when Neve updated them, her eyes tired and sad. The distance that had grown between them throbbed like a physical ache, and no hollow words would convince her this wasn’t at least partially her fault. She resolved that she would make it up to Neve, somehow.

When Lucanis approached her about returning to Treviso for a job, she was grateful for the distraction. She went to Harding first, planning to invite her along. As she made her way into the greenhouse, she was surprised to find her usual chair already occupied by their new resident dragon hunter. Harding was giggling when Rook entered, while Taash grinned down at her, looking too large in Rook's little armchair.

“Am I interrupting?” Rook paused in the doorway, smiling at the two of them.

“Oh, Rook! No, not at all. What’s up?” Harding motioned Rook over, and she went to sit beside her on the bedroll. 

“Lucanis and I need to head back to Treviso. Teia and Viago have a job for us, I was gonna see if you wanted to tag along.” Taash’s eyes went wide at Rook’s words, and she leaned forward eagerly, responding before Harding had the chance.

“A job? Like, a Crow job?” Taash’s excitement was palpable, and a spark of amusement lit as Rook glanced at Harding, a smile on her lips.

“Uh-huh, exactly. It’ll probably involve killing Antaam.” Rook’s grin turned into a laugh as Taash shot out of her chair.

“Can I come along? I mean, you know. If Lace doesn’t mind?” Taash turned quickly to Harding as she spoke, and who put her hands up in a placating gesture.

“Sure, I would never rob you of the opportunity to engage in some good old fashioned Crow-on-Antaam violence. Besides, I’ve got to collect today’s correspondence. I’m expecting word from Antoine and Evka.” Taash grinned widely at Harding before turning back to Rook.

“I’ll get my stuff. Meet you at the mirror.” Taash was out the door before Rook could respond.

“Getting along well?” Rook smiled innocently at Harding once Taash was gone, kicking her foot lightly.

“No. I mean, yes. Shut up, you… dork.” Harding struggled to find an appropriate insult, and Rook giggled as she stood up, dusting her pants off as she went.

“Rook?” She and Harding both turned at Lucanis’ voice to see him standing in the doorway. “Ready to go? Harding, you coming with us?” Rook shook her head as Harding grinned.

“Not this time, Taash is eager to watch the Crows in action. Pretty sure she also wants to crack some Antaam skulls.” Harding sat up, stretching as she did. “You guys probably won’t be back until late. It’s too bad, I was going to make my potato stew tonight, I’ll set some aside for you!” Lucanis went pale at Harding’s words, rushing to speak as Rook met him at the door.

“Ah, that’s… alright. I think Bellara was actually planning something. We can eat in Treviso.” Harding shrugged and waved as they headed out. Rook looked at Lucanis slyly as they walked, linking her arm in his.

“It really is too bad. If you want, I could let her know that the potato stew is your favorite, see if she’ll make you a special bowl.” Rook squeaked as Lucanis tugged her off balance, and she laughed as she stumbled. 

“I will take that as a threat, Rook.” He warned, shaking his head even as he grinned. “I do not know how you survived Harding’s cooking for so long.”

Rook nodded solemnly as they approached the stairs to the eluvian room. “More dangerous than the risen gods, that.” Taash, true to her word, was waiting for them by the eluvian. She was bouncing on the balls of her feet, looking every bit like a very large, excited child.

“Lucanis. Rook said I could come along for your Crow business.” Taash addressed Lucanis eagerly as they approached. Even though they were both Crows, Taash had made it clear that Lucanis was much more impressive and ‘crow-like’ than Rook.

He smiled warmly at Taash, nodding. “I’m sure whatever Teia and Viago have in store won’t disappoint.” They double checked their gear one last time before heading through the eluvian, Treviso-bound.

—

Lucanis wasn’t wrong, Teia and Viago’s contract was an important one. They had information that indicated a connection between the invading Antaam and the Evanuris. Their contract would hopefully further both their struggle against the gods, as well as their fight to free Treviso. Rook's focus sharpened instantly as they provided the details of the contract, and Viago spoke quietly to Lucanis as Teia briefed her.

“Mages may be your specialty, but Antaam warriors fit Rook’s ideal mark to a tee,” Viago’s eyes were icy as he warned him, “Don’t get in her way.” Lucanis wanted to protest, but held his tongue. He’d been working at her side for weeks now, her fighting style was hardly new to him. He had also already witnessed her hold her own against an Antaam commander during the dragon attack, and though she was injured then, Lucanis didn’t doubt she would have killed him on her own if she’d been in better condition going into it.

Viago spoke up again, catching Rook’s attention as he expressed concerns that the Antaam had an inside traitor, somebody who had helped them take the city during the initial occupation. They were to track down another Crow, Dareth, as well as his fledgling cousin in the Drowned District. Lucanis could see Taash trying hard to play it cool out of the corner of his eye, but she was practically vibrating with excitement as she looked around the Diamond.

Lucanis liked Taash. She was good in a fight, easy to talk to, and completely un-phased by Spite. As the trio made their way to the Drowned District, she started up with her questions. “I heard Crows can slow down their breathing until they become invisible.” Lucanis frowned, working through what she'd said.

“Why would slowing down your breathing make you turn invisible?” He asked, and Rook snorted, unsuccessfully trying to stifle a laugh.

“That’s what I was gonna ask!” Taash was surprisingly agile for her large size, and she kept up with their pace easily as they traversed Treviso’s rooftops and streets. “So…” Taash continued, her eyes burning expectant holes into Lucanis’ back, “Can you?” 

“No.” Lucanis thought Taash was joking at first.

“Oh. Okay.” Her voice was glum as she responded, and Rook glared at Lucanis. He raised his shoulders in a shrug, as if to imply, What am I supposed to say?

“There’s the place.” Rook nodded at their contact point as they reached the Drowned District’s flooded streets and wooden bridges. “Keep your eyes open. We may not be the only ones interested.” Even as she gave the warning, they could hear the unmistakable voices of the Antaam, along with faint sobbing. Rook and Lucanis drew their blades in unison, and Taash followed suit with her axes. 

They followed Rook as she skirted closer to the entrance. Lucanis peered over her shoulder at Rook's sudden intake of breath, and she tensed, halting their advance. His grip tightened on his blades as he spotted what had given her pause. The fledgling Crow, Jacobus, was in a slaver’s kennel with Antaam warriors taunting him. The boy’s face was streaked with tears, a dead Crow laying nearby. Dareth. Lucanis felt his own heart twist in his chest at Jacobus’ words, choked out through tears. “He was my cousin!”

Illario’s face flashed in his mind, and Lucanis took a breath, turning to mouth ‘hostage,’ to Taash. She nodded in understanding, and they entered on Rook’s signal. Rook was remarkably fast when she needed to be. Lucanis had always considered himself to be quick in a fight, but Rook was something else. She kept up with him easily, even with Spite’s power increasing his already impressive strength and speed. She’d joked once that if her enemies couldn’t catch her, they could never hope to hit her, and she was right.

Antaam warriors weren’t slow, but their size still posed a disadvantage. Against Rook’s slight frame and dizzying speed, they were more like large targets than true opponents. Rook zipped between them, landing shallow strikes in quick succession, while Lucanis and Taash followed up with killing blows. Jacobus called out to Rook as they fought. “Rook! You’re with Lucanis?!” He didn’t recognize the boy, though he clearly already knew Lucanis’ face. 

“Hang on, Jacobus!” Rook called back to him, he hadn’t realized the two were already familiar. Jacobus’ tears had slowed, and he watched their fight with rising enthusiasm.

“They killed Dareth!” He called to Rook again. They were down to the final Antaam warrior, but this one was more skilled than his brethren had been, and was proving difficult to bring down. “He’s weak on the left, gut him!” Dareth’s cheers had not gone unnoticed by the Antaam, and the warrior turned, aiming his blade at the side of the flimsy cage.

Anger could made opponents foolish, Lucanis knew this well. As Rook darted in front of the cage to parry the blow, he and Taash bolted forward in unison. Lucanis drove his blade clean through the Antaam’s back, angling upwards into his lungs, while one of Taash’s axes struck true, nearly severing their foe’s head from his shoulders. 

Rook rushed the cage, breaking the lock without even looking for a key. Jacobus darted at her, throwing his arms around her as fresh tears leaked from his eyes. “Tell me what happened.” Rook spoke lowly to him while Lucanis and Taash moved to examine the body of Dareth. Lucanis slipped a note from Dareth’s armor, scanning it quickly before pocketing it.

“Dareth… they…” Jacobus was clearly shaken, grief and shock had him trembling in Rook’s arms as she soothed him. “You have to finish Dareth’s contract, please, it’s about the Butcher.” Lucanis tensed at mention of the Butcher, the charismatic leader of the Antaam who held Treviso firmly in his grasp. He met Rook’s eyes, and she nodded almost imperceptibly back to him.

“Dareth was supposed to spy on the Butcher. We were going to pick up the contract from a dead drop. But then…” Jacobus withdrew from Rook, staring up at her, his mouth set in a grim line. “Someone has to finish this contract for Dareth. Please,” His eyes flickered briefly to Lucanis, then back to Rook. “You have Lucanis with you, so please Rook-” Rook placed a hand on his shoulder, and he fell silent.

“I will, Jacobus, I promise.” She assured him, and Lucanis felt his rising admiration for her. Rook, always the hero, so willing to do for others. He addressed Jacobus gently. 

“Go back to the Diamond, let Teia and Viago know what’s happened. Your cousin’s contract will be completed.” Jacobus nodded, his eyes trailing back to his dead cousin, even though Taash was trying her best to block his view. 

“I will, just… just give me a minute.” He stepped towards Dareth, and Rook moved to intercept him.

“It won’t make it better.” She was looking at him with something in her eyes that Lucanis couldn’t quite place, an edge to her tone that was strangely out of character.

“You know I have to.” Jacobus murmured, meeting her cool gaze. She softened slightly, and moved aside.

“Let’s go.” She made for the door, Lucanis and Taash at her heels. As soon as they were on their way again, Lucanis filled Rook in on the note he’d found on Dareth. They were to follow the Crow marks, a concept they quickly explained to Taash, and the contract would be waiting at a dead drop. They moved hastily through the city, making their way back up on to the rooftops as they followed the trail.

The discovery of Dareth and Jacobus had left it’s impact on the group, and they travelled in heavy silence. The marks led them through a broken window, into the second story of one of Treviso’s semi-abandoned towers. It was a good spot for a dead drop, and Lucanis and Rook got to work searching for the contract while Taash stood guard. Rook located it first, and he stepped closer as she read it, swearing softly under her breath. She met his eyes as she passed the contract over. “The Butcher is making poison. Qamek.” 

Taash grunted, moving to join them. “That shit’s bad, messes with your mind.” Lucanis nodded grimly, this was a poor turn of events.

“We cannot let this stand.” He folded the contract as he spoke, slipping it into his pocket. Rook nodded, turning to leave out the window.

“We won’t. The Antaam brought in a qamekmaster to mix the poison. He’s at the garrison, we stop him there. Before this goes any further.”

They hadn’t traveled far before they ran into another group of Antaam waiting for them on the rooftops. They were clearly there to ambush Crows, and Taash exchanged barbs with them in Qunlat as they brawled. Taash was a heavy hitter, more than a match for the Antaam’s might. She cleaved a path straight through them as Lucanis followed up with precision strikes. Rook tripped up the final warrior as he rushed Taash, sending him flying over the edge of the roof.

Taash ruffled Rook’s hair as she cheered. “Woah, Crow kill!” Rook batted at her hand, rolling her eyes. 

“Can’t let you and Lucanis have all the fun.” She teased as they continued on their way, but Lucanis could’t match the mood.

As they crept along the rooftops and through unoccupied buildings towards the garrison, the voice of the Butcher drifted on the wind as he gave his daily speech to his legion of Antaam. They killed the posted guards in the buildings quickly and quietly, lest they alert the entire army to their presence. Lucanis felt Spite’s whispers growing louder, fueled by his rage at what had been done to his home in his absence. The demon was wide awake, agitated and thirsting for blood.

“This place is forbidden!” One of the last standing Antaam warriors thundered at them in heavily accented trade tongue. 

“You cannot forbid the Crows!” Lucanis snarled back, felling the warrior before Rook and Taash could get close. Rook re-sheathed the blades she’d only just drawn, and Lucanis saw the flicker of concern in her eyes. Taash must have sensed the shift, and she muttered something about getting some air before the next fight, stepping out to give them a moment of privacy.

Rook stepped gingerly over the body as Lucanis turned from her, closing his eyes and gritting his teeth. He was tense, Spite coiling within him like a snake winding up for the killing strike. He felt her rest her head against his back, wrapping her arms carefully around him as he fought to steady his breathing. “The boy. His cousin-” He tried to explain, to reason with himself just as much as her, but she gave him an insistent squeeze and he fell silent. She held him for a moment before she spoke. 

“Take a deep breath.” Her voice, soft and even, washed over him like cool water. He complied, breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth. As she released him, she pulled him gently around to face her. “If it’s going to be a fight, we need our heads clear.” She murmured, searching his eyes.

Lucanis recognized his own words. The same instruction he’d once given her, the night she’d broken him out of the Ossuary. Spite eased within him, his influence growing fuzzy and dim. He nodded to her once, and she leaned in, planting a quick kiss on his cheek, before she called for Taash once more.

Chapter Text

Rook led them quietly through the Antaam garrison, until they arrived in an opulent sitting room. Kegs of qamek were visible over the balcony railing in the chamber below, and the qamekmaster’s voice floated up from somewhere they couldn’t see, his tone strange and rasping. 

“I can smell you.” Lucanis’ hackles were up instantly at his words, there was something deeply wrong here. “Outsiders. Here to test my gift!” He met Rook’s eyes, and she spoke just above a whisper to him and Taash.

“No choice. This will be a fight. Need to jump down there, the door is blocked. You both ready?” Rook looked from Taash to Lucanis, and they both nodded, drawing their weapons. Rook went first, drawing her blades as she vaulted into the room below. Lucanis and Taash followed suit, all three of them turning just in time to see the qamekmaster as he roared, charging them.

They scattered in different directions, the monstrosity that was the qamekmaster was unlike anything Lucanis had witnessed before. He was massive, triple the size of any Qunari warrior, at least. His skin bulged and pulsed, Blight moving thickly under his veins. Four gnarled horns jutted from what must have once been his head, and Lucanis was unsure where his voice came from, there was no visible mouth on the monster.

“What the fuck is that?!” Lucanis narrowly dodged the qamekmaster’s mutated fist as it slammed into the ground where he once stood.

“Finally! The fight the Butcher denied has come to me! I will prove my worth!” The qamekmaster was much faster than his size would have implied, tearing after them as they darted around the room, avoiding punches that landed with enough force to crack the marble floor. 

“How can he still talk, he’s Blighted!” Even Taash’s voice betrayed some strain as she barely blocked a blow, roaring fire as she pushed him back.

“We’ll ask questions after it’s dead!” Rook called out to both of them, and Lucanis felt some reassurance. Her voice betrayed no fear, and she darted around the creature like it was a dance, landing strikes against his mutated hide for every blow that she dodged. 

“You face the gift of the gods!” The qamekmaster continued to roar at them as they battled. Spite was fighting through Lucanis at full force, his wings propelling them out of the way of every strike. He was relentless, and Lucanis’ muscles strained with effort as the fight raged on. Taash yelped slightly as one of the qamekmaster’s fists clipped her in the leg, knocking her off balance. 

“Taash!” Lucanis called out, panic rising as the qamekmaster rounded on her. Rook was on the beast so fast, he barely had time to register what she was doing. She scaled his back, grabbing hold of him him by the horns and kicking at him as he reared backwards. It gave Taash the time she needed to scramble to her feet, and Lucanis tossed her a potion. 

Rook was still on the qamekmaster’s back, stabbing at him as she held on to one horn. The best was swinging wildly, trying to grab at her as she maneuvered herself around, keeping just out of reach. Lucanis was struck by the memory of her fight with the Antaam commander, how he’d grabbed her and thrown her into the wall. It wouldn’t happen again.

“Taash, take the left!” Lucanis barked instructions as he rushed the right flank. The qamekmaster was too busy trying to dislodge Rook to focus on them, and his movements slowed as he staggered under their assault.

“I think we’ve just about got it!” Rook called out encouragement, leaping off of the qamekmaster as he fell against the wall, just barely avoiding being crushed. She wasn’t finished, joining Taash and Lucanis in one last push, her own blades sinking into his putrid flesh. Finally, the qamekmaster fell and did not rise again.

“Hope that was enough Antaam blood for you, Taash.” Rook flashed a grin as Taash hooked her hand axes back on her belt. “Think you can take care of the poison with your fire?” Taash nodded and started making her way around the room, destroying each keg with a blaze of fire-breath. Lucanis joined Rook as she searched the room for information they could use. They found more than they’d bargained for. A note mentioning a ‘human traitor’ confirmed Viago’s suspicions of inside help during the invasion, and some of the qamek was apparently missing. They agreed to head back to the Diamond, a report was in order.

Their trip back was free of further fighting, and Lucanis suggested they stop by the markets for a quick dinner on their way. Taash smiled slyly as she responded. “Sure thing, long as you’re paying.”

Lucanis laughed as he agreed. “My treat.” He led the trio through the market as Rook and Taash discussed the battle.

“Jumping on its back like that, was that a Crow thing?” Taash asked excitedly as they perused the food stalls.

“No. More of a ‘if I don’t do this we might all die’ thing.” Rook peered over Lucanis’ shoulder as he stopped at a stall to order tapas and churros for the group. He passed the food around, and the three of them ate in comfortable silence as they continued their walk back to the Diamond.

When they arrived, they heard raised voices, and Lucanis and Rook exchanged a look. Lucanis craned his neck to see who might be foolish enough to get into a yelling match with Teia and Viago, and wrinkled his nose. “Politician.” He said, and Rook groaned. 

“You two hang back, I’ll go give our report. I’ll be quick.” Lucanis nodded and led Taash back out to the eluvian balcony to wait. 

“So, did the job meet your expectations?” Lucanis addressed Taash casually, leaning against the railing. Taash nodded, smiling as she joined him.

“Yup. I feel bad for the kid though. What the Antaam did to his cousin? It’s messed up.” She looked out over the city as she spoke, and Lucanis followed her gaze. 

Treviso was lit up against the night, pretty as a painting from where they stood. This far away, you couldn’t quite make out the ugly renovations that indicated their occupation, and he could almost pretend things were as they should be. Lucanis entertained the idea of bringing Taash back with him and Rook after this was all over, and the Antaam were routed for good. He thought she would enjoy a tour of the city as it should’ve been, Harding too.

Lucanis was suddenly glad that they'd brought Taash along. Harding was a strictly ranged attacker, a close quarters fight with a beast like that would have been much harder, and he knew exactly how Rook would’ve handled it. She would’ve taken steeper risks, she would have throw herself in harms way to keep him and Harding out of the line of fire.

Rook appeared in the doorway then, as if summoned by Lucanis’ wandering thoughts. He and Taash both straightened as she approached. “Alright, I filled Teia and Viago in. They’re going to keep an eye on the Butcher, see what they can find out about the traitor, as well as the missing qamek. They’ll send word as soon as they have something.” 

Lucanis nodded while Taash yawned. “Nice. We can head back then?” Taash was clearly ready for a break from the excitement. Rook laughed, and the three of them headed back through the eluvian.

Chapter Text

Rook was tired, and she didn’t protest when Taash waved them goodnight, heading straight for her new room in the lighthouse while she and Lucanis headed down the hallway to their own chambers. If the fight hadn’t been tiring enough, the conversation with Ivenci, the politician, certainly had been. She filled Lucanis in on the details of the discussion as she helped him out of his armor, and he helped her in turn. 

This had become a comfortable routine for them, and Rook had jokingly come to refer to it as a ‘debrief and disrobe.’ Tonight, Lucanis had that look about him that she knew meant they would not be going straight to bed. Sure enough, he stopped her as she started buttoning her night shirt, taking her wrists in his hands as he pulled her to him.

He settled his palms against her waist, and he held her delicately as he dropped his forehead to rest against her shoulder. She reached up to stroke his hair with one hand, and he sighed into her. She held him a moment before speaking. “Jacobus will be alright.” She felt his fingers twitch against her slightly, but he was otherwise still. “It won’t be easy, but…” She trailed off slightly.

She’d known Jacobus for a few years, though he’d grown taller since she’d seen him last. And Dareth was a young man, close in age to Rook, only recently promoted from fledgling to Crow. They were losing Crows to Antaam altercations at an alarming rate, and they only seemed to be getting younger. Rook herself had been considered an “early graduate,” completing her initiation when she was still a teenager. She was arguably a young Crow herself, but she knew her level of competency was the exception, not the rule.

Rook was torn from her thoughts as Lucanis pulled away from her. He tugged her toward the lounge wordlessly, and the flicker of violet in his eyes told her all she needed to know. She’d managed to soothe Spite earlier, but she doubted she'd have the same luck twice. Still, Lucanis had seemed so upset at the garrison, and she could still feel those hints of something unspoken below the surface, keeping her on edge.

“Lucanis,” She started softly, trying to break through his silence as he led her by the hand to the back of the couch, “We should talk. Earlier, with the-ah!” She yelped slightly, cut off mid sentence as he lifted her to sit on the thin counter behind the lounge. 

“Go ahead,” He murmured as he stood between her legs, pressing his lips to her neck, “Talk.” She felt her pulse quicken as he held her in place, nuzzling against her as he placed slow kisses along her neck and jaw. 

“Lucanis.” She repeated, trying to sound firm, but her voice came out high and breathless.

“You said that already.” His voice was low and rough as his hands traveled up her thighs, running his fingers along the soft cotton of her sleepwear. 

“I-I know.” She huffed out, pressing her palms lightly against his shoulders, a feeble show of resistance. Her thoughts scattered under his touch, and she was certain he knew it.

“You’re doing this on purpose.” She practically whined as she felt his teeth lightly graze her skin, sucking and nibbling along her collarbones.

She yelped again as he reached between her legs, the friction of his fingers through the thin fabric of her pajamas causing her to squirm. Her hand shot downwards to pull up on his wrist, but he ignored her insistent tugging, his pace slow as he increased the pressure against her center. She could feel her resolve crumbling to pieces, frustration morphing into need under his practiced hand.

—

Lucanis would have stopped if Rook had asked, of course, he reasoned with himself. He’d felt a brief glimmer of guilt that he was taking advantage of her affections for him to avoid the conversation she was trying to have. Still, any doubts he might have held melted away as she gave in to him. The truth was, he didn’t want to talk about how the fledgling and his dead cousin made him feel, or how powerless he was in the face of the occupation, or the fear that he couldn't be what Rook needed. All he wanted right then was to be with her, to feel her skin against his, to lose himself in her.  

He pulled Rook from where she sat and flipped her to face away from him in one fluid motion, pinning her between himself and the counter. He was dimly aware that he was being a bit rougher than he normally would, Spite’s influence blurring the line between passion and impatience. But if Rook was bothered, she didn’t say, and he didn’t dwell on it.

Lucanis had been with many women, and men for that matter, from humans to elves and even a Qunari once. Nobody made him feel the way Rook did, he’d never found another person so intoxicating. It went beyond mere attraction, it bordered on need, each touch soothing aches and he hadn’t previously known were there.

He buried his face in her hair, reaching around the front of her to palm her breasts. She leaned forward on her hands as he pressed the length of his body against her, the curve of her backside pushing deliciously against his growing erection. She let out a high pitched sound as he lightly rolled her nipples between his fingers, her fingers curling into fists against the countertop. 

He pulled back then, placing light pressure at the small of her back with the palm of his hand. “Bend over.” He ordered her softly, and she complied, as she always did, resting on her stomach against on the counter. “Good girl.” His praise sent a shiver through her, and he eased her pants down as he knelt behind her. He ran his hands along the backs of her bare thighs as he took in the view of her from this new angle.

She squirmed under his gaze, and he placed his hands between her legs in response, prompting her to spread them further for him. He was in no rush, and he ran his fingers up the inside of her thighs slowly, swerving up over the swell of her ass while pointedly avoiding the space at the junction of her legs. She was trembling with need, and Lucanis could feel his resolve breaking at the sight of her, vulnerable and willing to do whatever he asked. 

He leaned in, placing his mouth against the back of her cunt in a kiss, and she cried out, tensing as he ran his tongue in slow circles around her wet hole. She was practically dripping, and he quickly began undoing his pants, her arousal sending responsive need coursing through him. As his cock sprang free, he brought both hands back up to spread her lips, slowly running his tongue all the way from entrance to apex.

Rook’s knees nearly buckled in response, and he held her firmly up against the counter as he ravaged her with his tongue, determined to claim her. She was whimpering openly, alternating between pleading and calling his name.

He rose to his feet, unable to contain himself any longer as pressed his cock between her thighs, coating himself in her wetness as she squeezed her legs around him. He bent over her, pressing his chest into her shoulder blades as he thrust himself between her folds. “You’re so good. Too good.” He murmured  in her ear between ragged breaths. He wrapped one arm around her chest, cushioning her so as not to crush her against the countertop. He slid his other hand around the front of her, stroking her clit with each thrust of his hips.

He felt the telltale uptick in her breathing as her keening moans became more desperate. He slowed his thrusts slightly, focusing on the movement of his fingers against her as he brought her to climax. As she tipped over the edge, his focus returned to his cock, still nestled between her sopping folds. He closed his eyes, turning his face into her neck as he chased his own orgasm, spilling his seed between her legs.

He remained bent over the top of her for a moment, letting himself go soft before he finally stepped back. He didn’t wait for Rook to stand, instead scooping her into his arms and carrying her to their lounge. She didn’t protest, and he plopped her on the cushions before going back to retrieve her abandoned pajamas. He brought them back to her and settled himself beside her, where she curled into him almost immediately.

“So, where did you… how do you know what you're doing?” Rook’s voice was quiet, her face turned into his chest as she spoke. Lucanis raised his eyebrows, looking down at her.

“What do you mean?” He wasn't entirely sure what she was referring to, although the flush of her cheeks gave him a slight idea.

“I just mean… I know about sex, obviously, but that’s not what we’ve done. I didn’t know there were even... other options.” She laced her fingers with his as she spoke, and Lucanis got the distinct impression she’d been waiting to ask this for a while. He considered her question, how best to answer it.

“My cousin, Illario,” He started slowly, “He has always had an interest in… pleasure. He has a more natural gift for flirtation than I do. When we were younger, he grew frustrated with my inability to relate to certain experiences. He introduced me to the brothels, framed it like a favor.” Lucanis had never been asked a question like this, and felt the heat rising in his cheeks as he recounted his 'sexual education.'

“I've had years to figure out what I like, and what other people like. Multiple partners, men and women. With you though…” He felt Rook tilt her head up to look at him, and he met her eyes. “It is different, with somebody you care about. Better. I… I’m glad, that you've never done this... under pressure. You never should.” He raised a hand to cradle her face, and realized for the first time that he was envious of Rook.

Some Crows would see it as a vulnerability, or even a missed opportunity, that Rook didn’t have this type of experience. She was beautiful, naturally eye-catching in a way that would make her desirable for use via a specific skill set. Viago would have known that, could have insisted on brothel training, or had such an education formally provided. But he hadn’t. He’d given her enough of an education to keep her safe, and protected her when that safety was compromised. Lucanis bitterly found himself wishing that the same had been done for him.

“Lucanis?” Rook’s voice tore him from his thoughts once more, and he found her gaze again. “I can’t really imagine it. With anybody other than you. I don't think I could do it.” There was an innocence in her confession that almost made Lucanis’ uncomfortable, he was once again assaulted by the feeling that he did not deserve this, could not deserve her.

“That’s…” The realization hit him as he spoke, and the truth tumbled out of him unbidden. “After this, I doubt I could ever do this with another. Not after you.” He couldn’t say it, couldn’t call it what it was, not yet. But Rook, true to form, was far braver than him.

“Maybe it’s just meant to be done between people who love each other.” Lucanis’ breath hitched in his chest, and he tightened his hold on her reflexively. It wasn’t an ‘I love you,’ but the implication was enough to set off butterflies in his stomach. 

“Maybe.” It was all he could manage, and Rook relaxed against him, closing her eyes to settle into her usual restless sleep.

Spite appeared, as had become his habit, as Rook slept. She MUST live. Spite’s declaration caught Lucanis slightly off guard.

“Yes… that’s the plan.” Lucanis spoke cautiously, unsure what had prompted the demon to say such a thing. Then. We AGREE. Lucanis pondered this for a moment. “On this? Yes, I suppose we do.” Spite stared at him for a moment before he disappeared once more, retreating to some corner inside of Lucanis and remaining silent the rest of the night.

Chapter Text

Rook did not like the Hossberg Wetlands, but she nonetheless found herself spending a great deal of time there as she helped Antoine and Evka with their study of the Blight. After the last trip though, she wasn't sure she’d have much reason to return, or any Wardens other than Davrin to work with.

“I don’t know how he even found out.” She was sitting at the kitchen table with Neve and Bellara, picking at a plate of biscuits gloomily as she recounted her latest experience with the First Warden. “And now, I’ve gotten Antoine and Evka into trouble as well. He’s making them go back to Weisshaupt, leaving poor Lavendel to fend for itself. Isn’t the whole point of Wardens to protect the people?”

Bellara patted her hand sympathetically, while Neve only shook her head. “Rook, you’re such a sap. People rarely do what they should. Men in positions of power especially.” Neve offered her usual grim brand of comfort, and Rook found herself wishing, not for the first time, that she would stop being right so often. 

“I bet I know what would make you feel better,” Bellara gave her an exaggerated wink. “Lucanis!” She sang his name in a high pitched lilting fashion that had Neve rolling her eyes as Rook snorted out a laugh. 

“I actually thought he’d be in here getting ready to make a meal or something, maybe we missed each other. I’ll go see if he’s in the library.” Rook stood up and stretched, bidding Neve and Bellara goodbye as she left the kitchen. Emmrich had gone back to his room almost immediately upon their return, while Davrin walked Rook to the kitchen. He was still in the courtyard with Assan when she exited, and she waved at him. Davrin gave a short wave back as he called out to her.

“Hey, Taash grabbed Harding just a minute ago, some sort of commotion in the library. I think it has something to do with your lover-boy.” Rook frowned at his words, a nervous weight settling in her gut. 

“I’ll go check it out. And stop calling him that.” She shouted over her shoulder as she jogged across the courtyard.

When she first entered the library, it appeared empty. However, Emmrich appeared on the balcony shortly after her arrival to call down to her. “Rook, there you are, I was just about to retrieve you. You’re needed in the eluvian room, I believe. Taash and Harding just went chasing after Lucanis, I believe there’s some trouble with Spite.”

Rook swore softly as she went tearing down the stairs. As she swung around the corner to rush down the hallway leading to the eluvian room, she could already see the three of them in the eluvian room. Harding was standing nearest the entrance, rigid with tension and nerves, while Lucanis stood a few feet down. At the other end of the room, Taash was positioned in front of the eluvian, blocking it with her arms spread out wide.

“Back, demon! No further!” Harding’s voice was firm, but Rook could hear the tremor in it as she continued. “Isn’t standing up to them supposed to work?”

Taash didn't respond, instead directing her own firm instructions at Lucanis, who was slowly advancing on her. “Let Lucanis go. Don’t make us hurt both of you!” She flexed slightly, watching Lucanis worriedly.

Rook rushed inside, coming to a stop just beside Harding. “What’s going on? Lucanis?” She was ridiculously nervous, and her voice betrayed her immense concern as she tried to get a handle on the situation. Harding looked relieved at Rook’s arrival, and gestured at Lucanis.

“It’s not Lucanis! It’s the demon. It’s taken him over - he’s trying to leave!” Harding was terrified of demons under most circumstances, abominations specifically. Her restraint and evident worry were a testament to the friendship she’d built with Lucanis, and Rook felt a flood of grateful affection for her.

Lucanis inhaled deeply, turning slowly to face Rook and Harding. Rook tensed, his eyes were glowing violet. Spite. “Smells like… jam and brimstone.” Spite’s voice came out sharp and gravelly through Lucanis, and he twisted his face into a feral grin as he looked between them quizzically. 

“Rook, do something!” Harding’s voice had gone shrill, almost whining. Rook moved without thinking, grabbing hold of Lucanis’ hand. Spite whirled on her, grabbing hold of her arm with bruising force as he yanked her closer.

Taash and Harding both stepped forward, and Rook rushed to reassure them. “Stop! Don’t move, you’ll startle him.” She tried to ease her breathing, formulate a plan. Spite was looking between Taash and Harding as he held Rook out like a shield. She had a rapport with Spite, and while Taash and Harding were Lucanis’ friends, that relationship hadn’t extended to the demon, and he knew it.

She tried to turn and face Spite, but his grip tightened like a vice. “Spite,” She started softly, and the demon cocked Lucanis’ head down at her. “Remember what we talked about? I need you to be gentle, that hurts.” The word ‘hurt’ triggered the right reaction, and he flexed Lucanis’ fingers slightly, easing his grip on her. “Good, thank you, Spite. Harding and Taash don’t want to hurt you, they’re just worried about Lucanis.” 

Spite hissed. “Lucanis sleeps. You were NOT here. MY. TURN.” Guilt flooded her at Spite’s words, but now was not the time for this, especially not in front of Harding and Taash. 

“Lucanis, wake up!” She spoke sharply, Spite had given her the ammunition she needed. Spite recoiled from her before fading away, and Lucanis stumbled forward. Rook caught him, holding him steady as he blinked in confusion.

“Ugh. What the…?” Lucanis seemed startled, straightening as he looked around, and Taash and Harding visibly relaxed.

“You… tried to walk through the eluvian in your sleep.” Harding spoke softly to Lucanis, offering an apologetic smile.

“Spite was looking for Rook, he wanted out.” Taash added, glancing at Rook as she did.

Lucanis sighed, rubbing at his eyes. “I need coffee.” Rook took his hand, her heart clenching at how exhausted he looked. He hadn’t truly slept a full night, not since the last time Spite took control. She’d been so busy over the last several days trying to help Davrin with the Wardens and mapping the crossroads with Emmrich. She thought she was giving Lucanis a break, and now she realized all she’d done was increase his stress and exhaustion.

“You can’t just caffeinate your way out of this.” She offered him a smile, hoping he couldn't see the concern and guilt churning inside of her. Harding nodded, interjecting with her own advice.

“And you can’t just stay awake forever. I think that would kill you.”

Lucanis sighed. “I’ll be more careful next time.” Taash had left her post in front of the eluvian to join them.

“It might not be as hot and heavy as your nights with Rook, but one of us could probably sleep with you when she isn’t here.” Lucanis blushed immediately at Taash’s bluntness, and Rook let out a startled laugh.

“Taash, that’s… Andraste preserve us.” Harding was also blushing, stifling giggles as she turned to leave. Lucanis shot an exasperated look at Taash as he shook his head.

“That… won’t be necessary Taash. This won’t happen again. But, thanks?” Taash gave him a hearty thumbs up, before trailing off after Harding, leaving Lucanis and Rook alone. 

Rook grabbed his arms, pulling him into a tight hug. “You know, I’m not the only one who cares about you.” Lucanis sighed against her hair.

“How was your trip to Lavendel?” He asked, pulling away to examine her. Rook winced.

“Bad. First Warden showed up, I think I got Antoine and Evka into trouble. Lost my temper a bit.” Lucanis scoffed, raising his eyebrows in mock surprise.

“You? Losing your temper with the First Warden? I cannot imagine.” Rook whacked at him playfully, rolling her eyes before she grew serious again, and she let out a sigh.

“I have this bad feeling. I think something big is coming, the Blight is only getting more weird and…” She hesitated, but Lucanis finished her thought for her.

“Your dreams have been worse lately.” She startled slightly, she hadn’t said anything to him about it. “Spite notices it.” He explained, and she frowned. 

“I think that you should let me talk to him tonight.” Lucanis’ eyes hardened at her request, and he shook his head.

“No.” He turned, taking her by the hand as he led her back up out of the eluvian room.

“Why not? It might help-” Lucanis turned sharply and she almost ran into the him as he stopped.

“Spite is my problem. I am not dragging you any further into it.” Rook felt her irritation flare up.

“You aren’t 'dragging me into it,' I’m offering. There's a difference.” He shook his head again, and continued on his way to their shared room. Rook let him lead her in silence, moving to sit on the lounge when they arrived, while Lucanis set to work brewing coffee.

—

“I promised I would help you. With anything you needed, and that included Spite.” Rook’s voice drifted over to him from where she sat, and he felt his fingers reflexively tighten on the mug. “So why won’t you let me?”

YES. Why won’t you? Let. Me. TALK. To her. Spite was crowding him in his own mind, pressing for the reins of control as Lucanis gritted his teeth against him. 

He sighed, setting his coffee down as he turned to face her. “Rook. You are leading this fight against the gods. You’re trying to get Davrin’s griffons back, help Harding with her rock magic, assist Neve with Minrathous, and who knows whatever else you’ve promised to everyone on this team.” He’d made his way over to her as he spoke, his tone firm and measured. “On top of all that, you’re still taking jobs from Viago, and helping me track down Zara.” He took both of her hands in his, running his thumbs over her knuckles.

“And?” Rook frowned, clearly not understanding what he was getting at. “Spite isn’t such a big deal when you keep all of that in mind.” Spite let out a howling cackle, his malicious delight grating against Lucanis’ frayed nerves.

“Rook. You are impossible, and you are encouraging him. I’m saying you should not be trying to deal with my demon on top of all that.” She considered his words briefly, and Lucanis watched her intently as she mulled over his reasoning. 

“No. I disagree.” He clenched his jaw at her stubborn refusal, frustration warring with affection. He briefly remembered her stories about various arguments with Viago, and wondered if he was currently witnessing a remnant of that childhood obstinance. “Besides,” She continued as Lucanis struggled silently with Spite, “He’s really more like our demon now.” 

He shut his eyes against the explosion of Spite’s vicious triumph. The demon’s excitement felt like a physical force, manifesting as a pounding headache. HERS. Not just yours. Rook is my FAVORITE. The demon gloated, shrieking like a petulant child. “Fine.” Lucanis snapped, and he wasn’t sure if he was talking to Rook, the demon, or both. “But, we establish ground rules.” Spite went temporarily quiet, and the headache receded with his compliance. 

Rook nodded, crossing her legs underneath herself. “Of course.” Lucanis sighed, trying to sort his thoughts out.

“First, I get to be present. It cannot be like when I sleep. I want to know what’s going on.”

Rook nodded thoughtfully. “That makes sense. Is that possible?” Spite piped up once more. YES. You watch. As I watch.

“Spite says yes, it is. And, when I say we’re done, we’re done. No fighting me for control.” That instruction was purely for Spite, and the demon grumbled, but Lucanis felt him relent. He nodded, more to Spite than Rook, before he sighed. “Alright, then. It's a deal.”

—

Rook hadn’t expected that she would actually be able to convince him, but Lucanis’ agreement was a testament to their time spent together and the trust they’d built. Lucanis closed his eyes for a moment, and she watched as he took a deep, shuddering breath. When he opened them once more, it was Spite looking back at her. “Rook.” Spite practically purred her name, Lucanis’ lips twitching upward into that strange smile. 

Lucanis was still holding her hands when he traded places with Spite, and the demon looked down quizzically at the point of contact, flexing Lucanis’ fingers experimentally. It was as if he was memorizing the pressure, the muscle movements needed to hold without hurting.

“Spite, you can’t try to leave with Lucanis like you did earlier.” Rook spoke to him gently, squeezing him back. The demon worked Lucanis’ features into a frown. 

“You were GONE. I want OUT. I have not found the words.” He spoke insistently, frustration lacing his tone. Rook recognized the reference to their prior conversation, and nodded sympathetically.

“I know… What about Emmrich?” The thought struck her suddenly, she remembered that Emmrich had mentioned he could hear Spite when in close physical proximity to Lucanis. Lucanis had been initially horrified by that revelation, but Rook could feel an idea forming. “Emmrich knows all about spirits, and the Fade. I’ll bet he could help us, or help you find a better way of expressing what you want.” 

“I want. The HEART. Of the WITCH. Vengeance.” Spite’s sudden change in subject confused Rook, but she wasn’t about to refuse a request she actually understood.

“Yes, we’re working on that. It takes time though, gathering information.” Rook shifted as she spoke, leaning against the back of the lounge. Spite observed her sharply, not unlike how a cat might watch a bird it can't quite reach. The demon had no concept of modesty, and a poor understanding of restraint in general, and Rook saw his eyes drift downward, staring openly at her chest. 

“Fine. Now. Give me PERMISSION.” Rook stared at him blankly for a moment, trying to follow his rapidly swerving train of thought. “I have HIS permission. Give me YOURS.” Rook flushed, suddenly understanding Spite’s blunt request. 

“Oh! I-um, okay?” The words had scarcely left her mouth before Spite lunged for her, caging her against the couch as he met her lips in an eager, sloppy kiss. She brought her hands up reflexively against his chest as his teeth grazed her. Spite used a great deal more force than necessary, and Rook might have laughed if she’d been able to catch her breath. He reached up between them, shoving her hands roughly out of the way so that he could palm her breasts through her shirt.

She felt him pull back suddenly, and he blinked a few times, the violet glow fading from his eyes. Lucanis was back, breathing hard as he frowned. “I didn’t understand what he was asking. That isn't what I thought he meant.” Rook did start to laugh then, giggles bubbling up out of her unbidden. Lucanis sat still for a moment before a smile crept across his face, and he joined in with his own quiet chuckling.

“What did you think he was asking?” Rook snorted between peels of laughter. Lucanis shook his head, dropping his forehead against hers with a groan.

“I don’t know! It was vague, he just wanted permission to ‘touch.’ I didn’t think he would jump you like that.” Lucanis reached up, tracing her bottom lip with his thumb.

“I-he, didn’t hurt you?” He was still smiling as he asked, but Rook could see the hesitant concern in his eyes.

She shook her head no, and emphasized her point by leaning in to kiss him again. “No. Surprised me, a little. But nothing hurt.”

Lucanis grunted in response, before he stood up, pulling Rook to her feet as well. “Then, let’s go have dinner.” He smiled at her, a mischievous glint in his eye. “And we can finish what he started after.” Rook was still snickering as they made their way to the kitchen.

Chapter Text

Lucanis’ stomach was twisting itself into knots as he geared up. Davrin had approached Rook that morning with grim news; The First Warden was recalling all of the Wardens to Weisshaupt, with the exception of Davrin apparently. A darkspawn horde was on the move, and the gods were almost certainly behind it. Rook had instructed the entire team to ready themselves, and rushed back to their room to consult Solas.

He glanced back over his shoulder at where she lay on the couch, peaceful and still. He knew better, the pulse of blood magic behind his eyes ached as she convened with the Dread Wolf. Spite was there, perched over the top of Rook as if he could see into her mind by staring hard enough. Suddenly, Lucanis found himself wondering about that.

“Spite,” he called to the demon, and his head snapped up to stare back at Lucanis. “Can you… hear her? When she talks to Solas?” Spite wrinkled his nose, shaking his head as he looked back down at her. Not HEAR. I can TASTE and FEEL. The wolf’s teeth when they sink in. Anger. Confusion. Fear. Spite gestured at the area over her heart as he spoke. Lucanis’ unease only grew at that.

He finished getting into his own armor, and pieced out Rook’s gear for her next. He was running through a checklist of weaponry and potions when he heard Spite’s low growl, followed by Rook’s yelp. She was waking up, the same way she had when she last spoke with Solas. This time seemed worse, if it was possible. Lucanis caught her as she thrashed, her chest heaving as she struggled for air. Rook was much stronger than her slight frame would imply, and Lucanis had to call on Spite’s power in his efforts to calm her. 

When she finally stilled, she sat with her eyes closed for a moment, taking deep breaths. Her hands were trembling slightly, and she’d been gripping Lucanis hard enough to bruise. “That’s… never fun.” Rook’s attempt at levity was paper thin, her voice wavering even as she tried to joke. Lucanis watched her grimly, knowing there was nothing he could do.

“What did he say?” He asked quietly as she rose, trudging over to her pile of gear that Lucanis had set aside. She sighed heavily. 

“That I need to convince the Wardens to help us. Whatever it takes. And we won’t be able to take down the gods until we kill their Archdemons, they’re immortal while those still live.” The phrasing of 'whatever it takes' caught in Lucanis’ mind, Rook’s stony resolve like ice in his gut. He wouldn’t convince her otherwise, that much was clear, but he had no intention of letting her die.

The entire team was assembled and waiting when Rook and Lucanis arrived, Bellara was just finishing her fiddling with the eluvian. 

“Still can’t believe it.” Davrin looked uncharacteristically nervous. “They’re attacking Weisshaupt? The Wardens aren’t prepared for that.” Rook shrugged, every hint of unease that Lucanis saw in their room was gone.

“The gods are going straight for the throat. Unless we cut theirs first.” Her eyes met Lucanis’ and he felt a powerful rush of determination, Spite’s sentiments pulsing in sync with his own.

“Just get me close enough.” His words were a promise, he would not fail her in this. Rook nodded, the ghost of a smile on her lips.

“With pleasure.” She passed Lucanis the lyrium dagger as she spoke, their god-killing instrument.

“Time to see what this letter opener can do.” Lucanis mused, turning the blade over in his hands before hooking it on his belt.

“Who gets to tell the First Warden we’re dropping in?” Taash piped up, crossing her arms over her chest as she raised an eyebrow. 

“I was hoping to skip that part.” Rook grinned sheepishly as she responded, and Taash snorted out a low laugh. 

“They’ve got an eluvian in storage down in the vault, it was a gift from the Dalish.” Davrin briefed Rook, and Bellara nodded as he spoke.

“Ours should go right to it. Probably. I think.” Bellara started out confident, before glancing down at her boots as she equivocated. 

“Let’s get to it then.” Rook smoothly ignored Bellara’s nervous rambling, and got down to business, every bit their fearless leader. “We sneak into Weisshaupt nice and quiet. No one sees us. We look around for Antoine and Evka.” Rook scanned the group as she spoke, all eyes on her.

Neve piped up, and Lucanis turned to look at her. “Was there a plan after that?” She asked, looking almost hopefully at Rook.

Rook only shook her head. “Take out a god. End this today.”

Lucanis’ eyes never left her as the rest of the team did a final gear check, signaling when they were ready. Rook turned and walked through the eluvian, Lucanis and Davrin hot on her heels.

—

Rook looked around in confusion as she came out the other side of the eluvian. It was a dark room, shelves packed with old rusted equipment and food rations sat around them. She felt Lucanis come to stand at her side, Davrin shortly behind him.

“This isn’t the vault.” Davrin’s voice was just as confused as Rook felt, and realization sank like a stone. 

“Ah, crap. They moved the eluvian.” Rook sighed, exasperation lacing her words. Neve had just appeared through the eluvian when the room shuddered, the stone groaning around them. Neve jumped back through just as the wall behind the eluvian crumbled, a massive force landing against it. Davrin grabbed her and Lucanis both, pulling them out of the way as debris rained down around them, and the eluvian fell backwards out of the gaping hole left in the wall. 

Rook rushed forward even as Lucanis hissed for her to wait. Davrin hurried alongside her as she peered down to see where the eluvian had fallen. 

“It didn’t break!” Davrin’s optimism felt a little forced, and Rook watched Neve crawl out of the eluvian once more, swearing as she did. 

“Sorry!” Rook called down to her. “Catch up when you can!” Neve waved at her dismissively, turning to help the others climb out of the now horizontal transport mirror. She turned back to Lucanis, who was looking at her with raised eyebrows.

“You call that ‘nice and quiet?’” He tossed the verbiage of Rook’s earlier plan back at her, and she shrugged in response. 

“Shh!” A small voice from the other end of the room startled all three of them. A little girl was crouching by the door. “Darkspawn outside!” She whispered urgently to them. Davrin met Rook’s eyes, his uncertainty plain.

“Darkspawn? In Weisshaupt?” Rook had no time to assuage Davrin’s concerns, the child by the door was responding to him.

“Just outside the door.” Rook sighed, the flimsy plan she’d started with was already falling apart, it was time to improvise.

“Stay out of sight, um…?” Rook looked expectantly at the little girl.

“Mila.” The child offered her name, and Rook nodded.

“Sit tight, Mila. We’ll be back.” She promised her, and headed for the door.

As she pushed the hefty door open, her stomach dropped. They’d entered a war zone. The few wardens that were still fighting were dropping quickly, a mass of darkspawn crawling through the destroyed inner courtyard. The screams of men and monsters mingled, and Rook drew her blades, rushing straight into the fray. 

The only comfort to be found was in knowing that she, Lucanis, and Davrin had faced down this scenario before. It was fewer darkspawn then, sure. But they had a formation to fall back on. 

“Don’t let them near the girl!” Davrin called out, a note of panic in his voice. Rook whirled around to see darkspawn drawing closer to the storage room they’d emerged from, and swore under her breath as she doubled back. She shouted for Lucanis to remain with Davrin, cutting through the darkspawn at the doors before advancing once more. 

“How did they get here so quickly?!” Lucanis called out, and Rook was unsure who he was asking, but Davrin yelled back.

“They’ve got the gods at their back!” Rook heard the familiar wail of a hurlock, calling out a warning just before it charged. The three of them regrouped, standing back to back as the darkspawn continued to swarm. 

“Where are all the wardens?!” Rook’s blades were already dripping black with ichor from the slain monstrosities, and more were still coming.

“Sounds like a fight outside!” Lucanis called back, and Rook could see that his weapons were also coated in the gunk. Davrin bashed his shield into another hurlock before impaling it on his sword.

“We’re on our own!” His words were a grim confirmation of what they already knew. They continued to fight in silence, only calling out words of warning, or requests for help. When the final darkspawn fell, they were winded, covered in gore, and miraculously unharmed. 

Mila reappeared then, impressively un-phased by the carnage surrounding them. She led them fearlessly through Weisshaupt, quickly determining new routes when the original ones were blocked, or destroyed. As Rook pushed opened the doors from another storeroom leading out onto the battlements, she was met with a horrific sight.

In the oppressive darkness of the night sky above Weisshaupt, the face of Ghilan’nain turned to face them. She was a manifestation of storm clouds, her grim visage a behemoth amalgamation of the heavens. Her voice boomed from above, every bit the vengeful goddess Solas had described.

She promised death by Blight, and Rook leapt backwards, shoving Davrin and Lucanis back inside as an archdemon descended upon the battlements. The small handful of Wardens that had been outside were annihilated in one fell swoop, while Rook and Lucanis had to physically hold Davrin back as he tried to rush to their aid.

As the archdemon moved on, Mila ran out ahead of them, leading them along the crumbling battlements. Rook and her small team rushed after her.

“A dragon. Ghilan’nain brought a bloody dragon.” Lucanis’ exasperated voice kept Rook centered as they hustled along the dilapidated fortress wall. 

“Worse! That’s an archdemon.” Davrin’s tone was grim as he confirmed Rook’s fears.

“We have to get inside!” Rook was cataloguing information as she received it, taking in their surroundings and formulating plans of action in real time. 

“The war room isn’t far!” Mila called back, and Rook was both awed and horrified by the sheer balls on this kid. She wondered briefly if Viago had felt this way about her, at one time.

“Stick close, Mila.” She instructed, and hoped the girl would listen. 

Davrin stumbled suddenly, groaning in pain. Rook turned and grabbed his shoulders, attempting to steady him, Lucanis joining her. 

“Davrin?!” Lucanis’ voice betrayed his concern, and Davrin staggered upright, leaning on Lucanis for support. 

“Wardens… We can sense an archdemon… I can hear the Calling.” Davrin spoke through labored breaths, and as he did, the archdemon appeared over the battlements once more, much too close for comfort. Rook grabbed Mila, lifting her backwards before she ran right through the massive creature’s path of destruction. Rook stashed Mila quickly behind a pile of rubble as another wave of darkspawn rose to meet them along the wall. They cut through these much quicker, and Lucanis whipped around, searching as they finished.

“Mila?!” He called for the girl, and she popped up from where Rook had left her, waving.

“They won’t get me!” Mila called back to him confidently, rushing past Rook once more. Lucanis met Rook’s eyes, clearly horrified by the position they’d found themselves in, but all she could do was shrug, and chase after their overconfident new charge.

“She’s a cloud!” Lucanis hissed at Rook and Davrin as they cleared Blight and scrabbled over debris. “How do I kill a cloud with a dagger?!” Had the world not been practically ending around them, Rook would have laughed at Lucanis’ nervous chatter. 

“One thing at a time,” Rook tried to soothe him, “For now, let's not die out here!” Rook’s plan of not dying was immediately looking harder to achieve as they reached the next courtyard. Mila ducked into hiding as they came upon another battalion’s worth of darkspawn, the most they’d yet seen. 

Ghilan’nain rained Blight on them as they launched themselves into the fight, alongside sneering insults and promises of death. “She’s worse than Solas when it comes to rambling on!” Rook snarled as they fought. Davrin blocked a blow with his shield, saving Rook from what would have likely been a broken arm otherwise. 

“Tell Solas that when we get back, I’m sure he’ll be thrilled!” Davrin grinned at her, but Rook didn’t have time to respond, she was already tearing through the legs of a charger while Lucanis finished it off. Rook called for them to split up, they needed to divide the attention of the enemy. Lucanis and Davrin followed her command diligently, and the plan worked. They were far more effective this way, and they were finally making a dent in the relentless barrage of darkspawn. 

Rook was dimly aware of a stinging pain along the back of one leg as she fought, but it wasn’t enough to slow her down, and therefore she couldn’t spend the time worrying about it. She finished off her final opponent, and spun to find Lucanis and Davrin. Lucanis had finished his section as well, and was rushing to help Davrin finish the final hurlock. By the time Rook arrived, the creature had fallen. There was no time to catch their breaths or evaluate their condition. Mila appeared once more, calling for them to follow her to the war room. “Good luck!” Mila spoke softly to Rook, before disappearing inside.

Chapter Text

The war room was chaos when they entered. Panicked Wardens rushed about, and Evka could be heard arguing with the First Warden about ordering a retreat. Lucanis and Davrin followed as Rook made her way inside, and Lucanis watched her analyze the situation. She held a hand out wordlessly to Davrin, who passed her a blade he’d picked off a fallen Warden when they first arrived. 

“…Send word to Commander Janos. Rally outside the wall.” The First Warden was hunched over a war table, lit by candlelight. Rook tossed the blade on the table, scattering his maps and plans as she did. 

“Janos is dead.” Her words rang out sharply as the war room went suddenly silent, tension stretching between her and the First Warden. Lucanis held back a grin. Rook wasn’t particularly dramatic by Antivan standards, but she did have her moments of flair, at the end of the day.

“Rook?” The First Warden broke the silence, regarding her with open disdain. “What are you doing here?” Rook shrugged in response to his query, glancing around the room.

“Wishing I wasn’t. You’ve got ten thousand darkspawn outside the door. We’re probably dead already.” Despite the heaviness of the sentiment, Rook’s tone was light, taunting even.

“Then I have somewhere safe for you.” The First Warden sneered back at her, and Rook stared him down, utterly unbothered. “Arrest her.” The First Warden barked at the gathered wardens. 

“Non, you need to listen to them!” Antoine rushed to try and reason with the First Warden, while Lucanis drew his blades in response to a Warden advancing on Rook. “We are under attack by a god!” Antoine was speaking frantically. 

The First Warden snarled in his face. “Do you hear yourself? There’s no such thing! Stop finding excuses to be a coward.” The First Warden punctuated his last words with a hard shove, knocking Antoine out of his way. “We’ll stop the enemy outside the walls.”

Lucanis could feel Rook’s rising temper as though it were a physical force beside him, radiating off of her in waves. He glanced at Davrin, and he could tell by the set of his shoulders that he must have sensed it too. 

“The enemy is outside the window.” Rook spoke through gritted teeth, but the First Warden's arrogance knew no limits. 

“Grey Wardens don't hide in our castle. I won't ask good soldiers to turn tail and run. We're an army of steel holding back the Blight!” Lucanis could imagine that the Warden’s words were meant to be uplifting, but they came out sounding hollow and naive under the current circumstances. “Order every blade out of Weisshaupt!” The First Warden snarled his orders.

“We’ll all die, ser!” Evka’s defiance was borne of desperation, as well as unwavering faith in Rook. Lucanis could see it in how her eyes flickered back to Rook as she spoke.

“That’s an order, Warden!” The First Warden turned from Evka, and for a moment, Lucanis was convinced this would be the end of it. There would be no Wardens other than Davrin on their side, and possibly, none left for them to try and help by the end of this.

Rook moved then, blocking the First Warden’s path. The man towered over her, a mountain of steel and arrogant rage. Rook barely came up to his chest, she had to tilt her head back to even meet his eyes. Still, there was something about her just then, a glimmer of undeniable danger Lucanis had never fully recognized until that moment, and even Spite seemed to be holding his breath. Rook was a Crow, just as he was. She was a killer, a professional one more specifically, it was easy to lose sight of that under her usually friendly demeanor and charming idealism. 

“Can’t say I didn’t try.” Her voice was steady, cool and quiet. Before the First Warden could even register the magnitude of the threat standing before him, Rook punched him. Her fist connected squarely with the First Warden’s nose, a loud crunch echoing as a spray of blood decorated the floor and her fist. She hadn’t shown an ounce of restraint, and his head snapped back with the force of the blow as he fell over backwards, hitting the ground with a dull thud.

There was a momentary hush. The First Warden was lying flat out on the flagstone, knocked unconscious by the impact. Lucanis was surprised that he was even still breathing after the force of the blow Rook had dealt. The Wardens seemed to rouse themselves from their shocked stupor, drawing their blades. Evka rushed over, hands out to her fellow Wardens as she placed herself between them and Rook.

“No!” Her voice was sharp, and the Wardens paused. “Listen to Rook. That’s… an order.” She glanced backward at Rook, and the Wardens sheathed their blades. “Okay, Rook. I assume you have a plan?” Rook seemed momentarily surprised by Evka’s assumption, and Lucanis suppressed a snort.

“This dragon trap, tell me about it.” Rook was sharp, well suited to thinking on her feet. Antoine rushed over, speaking quickly. 

“It was built nine hundred years ago to stop an Archdemon, but-” As Antoine spoke, a shadow fell across the room.

“Get down!” Rook shouted the warning just in time, and everyone rushed for cover as the archdemon sprayed fire in an explosive volley through the windows.

Davrin had thrown himself over the top of Lucanis, raising his shield to protect them both from fiery debris. “Mierda.” Lucanis hissed, and Davrin nodded grimly. They turned their attention back to Rook, who was crouched beside Antoine engaging in a rushed conversation.

“… But it’s never been used!” Antoine was gesturing with his hands as he spoke, and Rook shook her head.

“It only has to work once!” She turned to Davrin and Lucanis. “Let’s go!” She got up then, running for the doors at the other end of the war room. 

Davrin and Lucanis were on her heels immediately, an eerie silence falling as they left the chaos of the war room. Rook turned to address them both once they were alone. “Alright, this is about to get a lot worse. You ready?” Lucanis was reminded of when they'd first met in the Ossuary. After their first fight together, she’d been out of breath, her hair in her face and blood on her armor. She was radiant then, just as she was radiant now. The heat of battle suited her, in a strange way.

“We have to be. It’s us, or nobody.” Davrin’s tone was grim, but there was an air of determination to him. Lucanis was confident they would both follow her straight into the fire if needed, especially after the show she’d just given them. Don’t fuck with Rook. She had just proven herself, not that she needed to. Lucanis had never been so sure of anything; if somebody could get them through this, it was her.

When Rook opened the door back out onto the battlements, the Wardens outside were already engaged in combat with darkspawn. They had no time to join them before the archdemon soared overhead, raining blighted fire across the battlements. All three of them dove out of the way, watching in horror as the Wardens were incinerated on the spot. Ghilan’nain’s voice taunted them from the sky as they battled with renewed fury.

Rook fought like nothing he’d ever seen, swapping between blades and bow seamlessly, tearing through their enemies as though it were nothing. Davrin and Lucanis struggled to keep up with her as she moved at a punishing pace. “How far is it to the trap?” Lucanis asked Davrin, trying to steady his breathing as he took the opportunity to drink a rejuvenation potion.

“Far enough that we’ll have to fight our way to it.” Davrin took the potion Lucanis offered him, downing it in one go. Rook led them through to the next charge without a word, and Lucanis was torn between awe and worry at the state of her. As they fought along the walls, a horn sounded, cutting through the sounds of darkspawn and battle.

“What does the horn mean?” Lucanis called out to Davrin again, the two of them had fallen into something of a rhythm, conversing as they fought.

“Calling reinforcements to the east battlements!” Davrin answered back, grunting as he pulled his sword from the chest of a hurlock. 

“Where are we?!” Lucanis felt a hint of panic as they navigated the chaos of the swarming darkspawn.

“The east battlements!” Davrin’s nervous energy matched his, and Rook fired a series of arrows, clearing a path.

As they carved their way through endless waves of darkspawn, piles of Blight blocked their path, halting their progress. Rook eyed a ballista. “Time to improvise! Maybe that ballista can help.” Lucanis turned to look, groaning at the sight of it.

“If it wasn’t under a pile of Blight, maybe.” Even as the words left his mouth, Rook was firing arrows into the pulsing Blight boils, and they exploded in disgusting sprays of black goo. Davrin raised an eyebrow at Lucanis.

“You know Lucanis, I was thinking being squeamish was a prissy Crow thing. Is it just a you thing?” Lucanis rolled his eyes as Rook fired the ballista with startling accuracy, destroying the blight in their path. 

“No. It’s definitely a Crow thing. Rook is abnormal.” He glanced back at Rook as he spoke. “Why not shoot the dragon?”

Davrin shook his head. “It’s not a dragon. And it takes more than a ballista to kill one.” 

Rook’s ballista did the trick clearing the way forward, and they were on the move once more. Another horn sounded as they advanced, and Lucanis couldn’t stop his nervous babbling. “That’s not good, is it?” He muttered, looking to Davrin for reassurance.

Davrin smiled apologetically. “The outer defenses have been breached. Evka must be ordering a retreat.”

As they climbed over debris and jumped down through wreckage, they realized their intended route along the wall was already all but destroyed. Davrin seemed to think they could get through another way, and Rook led them along the path he directed. “The First Warden will be a problem when he wakes up.” Lucanis’ mind drifted back to Rook’s actions in the war room, and another rush of admiration ran through him at the memory. 

“I’m kinda hoping he won’t.” Rook sighed as she responded. “I decked him pretty hard.” Lucanis nodded, replying before he could think better of it.

“I liked it.” Davrin pulled a face, and made an exaggerated gagging gesture. Lucanis shrugged in response, grinning. 

They continued to fight their way through the crumbling wreckage of Weisshaupt, and Lucanis’ nerves were only increasing. Rook was fighting recklessly, putting herself at risk in desperate bids to keep him and Davrin out of harm’s way. They were low on potions, and even lower on energy when a familiar voice called out to them. 

Emmrich and Harding were waving down at them from one of the scaffoldings up above, they were alive. The relief in Rook’s voice as she called back to them made Lucanis ache with the realization that she was probably just as scared as he was. Still, she was relentless in her fight, leading them through apocalyptic conditions.

Harding instructed them to head for the bell tower, and tossed Rook a satchel of potions before she and Emmrich disappeared once more. Rook passed them around, and they each drank before continuing. As they fought their way through wave after wave, they could hear the tolling of the bell tower. “Is there an end to all this?!” Lucanis yelled as they flanked an ogre, still dodging darkspawn as they did.

“Only if you kill Ghilan’nain!” Rook called back to him, and he could hear the strain through the forced confidence. 

“Right. I’ll get on that then!” He promised her, and she laughed. As they brought down the ogre, their relief was short-lived. A massive darkspawn, mutated and vicious, broke through a wall of stone. 

“Watch it, we’ve got another one coming through the wall!” Davrin had his shield up as he rushed it while Rook darted backwards, switching her blades for arrows once more, firing rounds off with deadly accuracy. 

“It’s a big one!” Lucanis observed aloud, landing blows each time it swung for Davrin. It took them several minutes to bring it down, precious time.

As they scaled a crumbling wall, they could see the bell tower just ahead. Their view of it was completely unobscured as the archdemon crashed directly into it, their hopes for an escape route crumbling along with the tower.

—

“What’s the plan now?” Rook could hear the exhaustion in Lucanis’ voice. He’d been exchanging words with Davrin almost this entire cursed mission, she knew he was nervous. 

“I don’t know.” She didn’t have it in her to lie, but she could feel the fire of determination still burning. “But we don’t quit. There’s a way out of this mess somewhere.”

Davrin thought they could still make it to the library, and they pushed forward again. They saw Neve along the next section of scaffolding, and she called out to them. They were still going the right way. I will get them through this. She was tired, in pain, and completely lost, but she would get them through this. 

“Oh boy.” She breathed, another massive horde of darkspawn was waiting for them. Their numbers seemed endless, a true army of monsters against their little team. 

“We can do this.” Davrin was in his element, fighting darkspawn against impossible odds.

“Yeah, well… let’s find out.” Rook sighed, nocking an arrow as Davrin and Lucanis pressed forward.

Despite their exhaustion, they did know what they were doing at this point. As long as they didn’t make a mistake, they could get through this. Rook fired arrows, taking out the weaker darkspawn in as little as a single shot, before switching back to blades. She joined Davrin and Lucanis in the fray, careful to watch their backs, compensating for any slip ups.

They were almost to the library when Taash and Bellara appeared, calling out to greet them from an upper bridge. “Can you get the gate open?” Rook yelled up to them.

“It’s gonna be a mess!” Taash’s warning was pointless, they had no other choice.

“Just do it!” Rook was unable to keep the edge out of her voice this time, she was unsure how much more they could take.

There were so many darkspawn pressing against the gate when it opened, they almost fell on top of them. The three of them formed a line, cleaving through the swarming monsters as a unit, until they finally broke through. Rook could feel her armor sticking to her in the places where her blood had dried, she wasn’t even sure where she was wounded at this point. Everything hurt and her muscles burned. But they had no other choice but to keep going, keep pushing.

They saw Evka in the distance, fighting a massive Blight tentacle, but she was gone before they’d reached her. Another horn sounded, and Lucanis swore loudly behind her. “They keep adding more horns, and it keeps getting worse.”

“It means we make our last stand.” Davrin’s words hung heavy between them, and Rook chose to ignore them both. “The library is down that way.” Davrin nodded down a partially collapsed corridor. As Rook started to move where he directed, the Blight exploded forth, knocking her off balance. She felt Lucanis’ arms on her almost immediately, yanking her backwards and nearly stumbling over himself as the Blight tentacles advanced on their position.

“Not anymore!” She practically shrieked at Davrin. They turned to run back the way they had come, but another massive tendril of Blight blocked their path.

“Go back, go back!” Lucanis was shouting.

“There is no back!” She needed everyone to calm down, she needed the Blight to slow down so she could think.

“Hey! Up here!” All three of them turned to see Mila up on a ledge. She released the chains on a ladder, and they rushed over. Rook motioned for Davrin to go, and had planned to wait for Lucanis to go next, but he grabbed hold of her as she yelped in shock, yanking her up the ladder with him at record speed.

“Mila, you’re a life saver.” Rook stared at the girl incredulously once they were securely at the top. 

“Darkspawn almost had you for lunch.” Mila stated matter of factly as they followed her inside the nearest building. They weren’t safe, far from it, but being indoors was a welcome reprieve. 

Chapter Text

“Did you find your father yet, Mila?” Lucanis questioned the girl, and Rook listened with mild interest. She hadn’t even realized that was who Mila was looking for, she’d been so focused on keeping them all alive. Mila indicated she had not, and Lucanis reassured her as they moved through the wreckage of what might've once been living quarters.

As they headed outside again, Davrin pointed straight ahead of them. “There, that's the library!” There was no time for relief, they could already hear the thunderous snarling of the horde. 

“We’ve got darkspawn!” Lucanis’ blades were out already.

“Cut them down, we can’t get stuck out here.” Rook rushed forward, not waiting for a response. 

“Davrin, have you ever fought this many before?!” Lucanis wasn’t trying to hide his distress now, they were well past that point.

“Yeah, killed that one’s cousin last week. Must have pissed him off!” Davrin was nearby, drawing the attention of the darkspawn by banging the hilt of his sword against his shield.

They fought incessantly, there was no time to even breathe. Darkspawn ghouls, hurlocks, and multiple ogres assaulted them on all sides. They were past the point of strategy, fighting now on raw survival instinct. “I can’t keep this up much longer!” Davrin gasped, sweat glistening on his skin as he blocked and bashed.

“Mierda!” Lucanis rolled, just barely missing being skewered by a hurlock.

“Yes, you can!” Rook screamed back at Davrin. “We didn’t come this far for nothing!”

The darkspawn kept coming. For every beast they felled, five more appeared. They were being pushed back towards the library doors. “They’re trying to get inside!” Lucanis was right beside her, but he had to yell over the snarling darkspawn to be heard.

“Not before we do! Stop them!” The idea of their team potentially being behind those doors, relying on them, gave Rook a new burst of adrenaline, and she fought viciously. She wasn’t even aiming to kill anymore, she took out their legs to slow them down, their arms to disable them, whatever she could reach.

“Rook,” Something urgent in Lucanis’ voice caught her attention, and she glanced over at him as he fought by her side. “We are trapped.” He said it matter of factly, and Davrin looked over, his eyes stony. 

“Then we make our last stand.” She made eye contact with each of them, and they nodded their resolve. 

Just as they made their agreement, the doors creaked behind them, and Taash appeared like a heavily muscled angel in the doorway. “Rook, get your asses in here!” She barked at them, panic in her eyes. Rook shoved Davrin back before a darkspawn could swipe at him, stabbing it in the eye. 

“We’re coming!” She shouted at Taash, moving steadily backwards as she fired arrows into the advancing monsters. 

“Rook, come on!” Lucanis grabbed hold of her, dragging her alongside him as Spite’s wings propelled them forward the last several feet to get inside. Davrin had grabbed Mila from her hiding spot, all but tossing her into the library as he went. As the doors closed behind them, they heard the darkspawn slam into it, and they rushed to hold the massive double doors closed against the horde. 

The wood groaned and buckled, rumbling with the weight of the darkspawn army as the entire team held it closed in a line. “Huh… you’re alive.” Taash’s gaze swept over Rook, Davrin, and Lucanis as they struggled to keep the doors steady.

“Well, let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” Rook was aware of something dripping below her, and she glanced down to see blood forming a small puddle by her left foot. It was coming from somewhere on her leg as she strained against the force of the army trying to push in on their hiding place. She caught Lucanis’ eye, and she knew he’d seen it too. 

“If this door doesn’t hold, all bets are off.” Davrin was panting as he adjusted, pressing his shoulder into the wood. 

“What about the dragon trap?” Rook was feeling a bit lightheaded, and she focused on her breathing as she spoke. 

“The trap’ll work.” An unfamiliar voice came from behind them, followed by a bang. A locking bar came down with sudden force, finally securing the door in place. “Take it from a blacksmith.” They all took a step back, turning to see a burly man smiling at them, Mila beaming by his side. 

It was the first moment of relative peace since this nightmare had begun, and Rook suddenly felt every ache and stinging wound increase ten-fold as the tension ebbed from her. She had no time for injuries though, they weren’t safe yet. “Neve,” She called softly to the mage, and Neve made her way over. “You remember that little trick we talked about with the blood mages?” Neve winced. 

“Rook…” She sighed, glancing down at Rook’s bleeding leg. “Come on. Let’s get out of the way.” She kept her voice low, and Rook followed her behind a pillar as everyone took a moment to catch their breaths. She could feel Lucanis’ eyes on her, and only hoped he would be wise enough not to follow.

She leaned against the stone pillar while Neve knelt in front of her, feeling along her leathers until Rook flinched. It was a deep gash along the back of her thigh, and it opened up every time she bent her knee. Neve glanced up at her dubiously, and Rook readied herself, placing her thick leather bracer between her teeth before giving Neve a nod.

Neve was an ice mage, cold magic was her specialty, but any mage worth their salt can conjure a little bit of fire in a pinch. Neve placed her palm flat against the wound, and summoned searing veil fire directly against Rook’s leg. Her knees nearly gave out, the pain was so immense, and she bit down hard on the bracer, stifling a scream. The pain was blinding, but it was also quick. Neve pulled her hand away quickly, slick with Rook’s blood, but the wound was cauterized. She wouldn’t have to worry about further blood loss. Neve passed two potions up to her, and she drank both gratefully. The combination of the cauterization and the potions had her feeling ready to fight again. Neve stood up, eyeing her clinically. “You’re insane for asking me to do that. Better make it through this.” Rook nodded weakly as Neve walked away. 

Rook took a deep breath, and made her way back into the center of the room, there was work to be done. She approached the blacksmith, evidently Mila’s father, and asked him about the dragon trap. He assured her it would work, and that it was simple to operate. “The real problem,” he explained as the roar of the archdemon outside shook the room, “Is getting that dragon to land.”

Rook had done that before, hadn’t she? She turned to Lucanis, his eyes dark and unreadable as he watched her. “Lucanis,” she called to him softly, and he approached. “The dagger.” Lucanis took the lyrium blade off of his belt, handing it to her wordlessly. 

The weight of the dagger was familiar in her hand, and she slotted it into place at her belt. “I guarantee this will get Ghilan’nain’s attention.”

Lucanis’ eyes flashed violet at her words. “And then?” He asked her, his tone was edged with worry and frustration. Rook tried her best to keep her tone confident, to not betray her pain and exhaustion, her fear.

“She sends the archdemon after me. We trap it, Davrin kills it, and Lucanis… you take your shot.” It was all she had. There was no time for something better, no time to try to iron out the details.

“Just like that?” Lucanis pressed her, his eyes burning as he stared her down. Rook wasn’t sure what he wanted from her. She couldn’t do anything else, and she could feel her frustration with him rising, she couldn't have him fighting her on this.

“I’m not going down without a fight.” She spoke evenly, but she held his gaze with steely determination. If he thought she was trying to kill herself, he was wrong. But she also knew that risks were part of the game, and she was playing to win.

“Is this one you can win?” It was as if he’d read her mind, his words both a challenge and desperate bid for reassurance. Rook softened, just a fraction. 

“I mean to find out.” She wouldn’t say yes, wouldn’t make a promise she couldn’t keep. But she would try.

—

Lucanis should have been terrified, he knew it logically. He watched Rook raise the lyrium dagger over her head and lob a challenge directly at a Blighted god. He felt the ground shake beneath his feet as Ghilan’nain sent her archdemon, Razikale, after them while Rook faced it head on. She was as fearless up against gods and dragons as she was facing men and monsters. Somehow, she made it harder to be afraid, standing strong in moments like this. 

The archdemon was sizing them up, playing with it’s food. It was in position, and Lucanis glanced over at Rook, coiled and ready. “Move!” She shouted sharply, and the three of them bolted as Razikale’s massive head lunged for them, missing by a hair thanks to Rook’s quick warning. As it lunged, the creature shifted on it’s feet, and the trap was activated.

Cheers erupted from the Wardens on the walls as Ghilan’nain screamed, her rage mingling with her archdemon’s howls of pain as the trap’s heavy metal chains pierced it's thick hide. It fell to the ground, shaking the very foundation of Weisshaupt. Lucanis spun to look at Rook. It actually worked. She’s done it.

Rook wasn’t looking at him, however, and she didn’t look happy. Her eyes were on Davrin, and Lucanis was hit with the sinking realization what was coming next. Davrin would kill the archdemon, and he would die in the process. Davrin took a deep breath, and Rook reached for his arm as he moved, calling his name softly. He stopped, gazing at her as if searching for the right words. He pulled her into a gruff, one armed embrace. “Give Assan a hug for me. Dareth shiral.” Rook flinched at Davrin’s words, and he released her, moving purposefully toward the fallen archdemon.

“Stand down, Warden!” All three of them turned in surprise at the sound of the First Warden’s voice. The man was moving slow, his face bruised and his broken nose still leaking blood. He looked like hell, and Lucanis felt a bloom of satisfaction at his haggard appearance. “My war. My glory.” 

Rook stared at him, her eyes glistening with unshed tears, still struggling with Davrin’s intended sacrifice, and now rage at the First Warden’s remorseless arrogance. “Wardens were killed on your watch.” She snarled at him even as Davrin placed a hand on her arm, holding her back. “If you wanna die to make up for that, be my guest.” 

The First Warden scoffed, and Lucanis moved to stand alongside Rook and Davrin, tensing for another fight. “I wasn’t asking your permission.” He sneered at Rook as he stalked past them without a second glance. Lucanis relaxed, but only slightly. The three of them watched grimly as the First Warden reached the archdemon Razikale, raising his sword high above him.

It happened so quickly that Lucanis barely had time to register it. Ghilan’nain burst forth, her monstrous physical form rising from a puddle of Blight as she seized the First Warden in one of her four arm-like appendages. Lucanis felt the familiar pulsing of blood magic as she brutalized the First Warden, tossing his limp body aside as she used his blood to reanimate her archdemon before their eyes.

The dragon’s body shuddered and jerked before it began to liquefy into a bubbling pit of tar-like goo. It dripped over the side of Weisshaupt’s dragon trap, into the moat below. As Ghilan’nain raced out of their reach, a creature burst forth from the water, shrieking as it zeroed in on them. It wasn’t a dragon, not anymore. It’s horrid flesh was slippery, exposed sinew and blight stretching across the greying skin. It’s massive neck ended in an eel-like head, it’s gaping maw of a mouth overflowing with too many teeth.

“What is that?” Lucanis stared at it in horror, and all three of them drew their weapons once more. 

“The real archdemon!” Davrin shouted back to him, and Lucanis swore under his breath as they scattered, avoiding it’s snapping jaws as it lunged for them.

“What was the other one?!” Lucanis was growing increasingly annoyed with creatures that wouldn’t die.

“We have to kill it! Ghilan’nain is invulnerable until we do.” Rook was a blur of perpetual motion at the edges of Lucanis’ vision, already stabbing at the monstrosity as she called out instructions.

“It already died, it just got back up!” Lucanis yelled back to her, but he followed her lead, sinking his blades into it’s putrid hide.

In some ways, this fight was easier than what they’d already been through. There was a clear target, and this new version of Razikale seemed to have a limited range of motion. It wasn’t slow, but it also wasn’t faster than the three of them. Better yet, they were doing obvious damage. The creature squealed in enraged agony as they tore at it, and Ghilan’nain called it back suddenly. It slithered out of reach as Ghilan’nain began her blood magic ritual once more.

“What now?” Lucanis looked to Rook. She met his gaze, shrugging casually, as though he'd asked about dinner plans. 

“Spooked Ghilan’nain. Maybe she wants to talk?” It was a joke, surely. They were facing down gods, and Rook was making jokes. The beast rose again before Lucanis could scold her, and they turned to see that it now had a second head.

“She didn’t want to talk, Rook!” If Lucanis was going to die here, it wouldn’t be without an I-told-you-so. Sheer willpower was keeping him going, and the team split their efforts now between the two heads. Lucanis could feel that even Spite was growing weary, to a degree. They’d never used so much power for such an extended period of time. 

Ghilan’nain called Razikale back once more, and this time, there was to be no reprieve. Darkspawn began climbing up out of the water, rushing to assault them while Ghilan’nain worked her foul magic. Just then, arrows began raining down from above them, and Lucanis turned to look. He could see the short silhouette of Lace Harding, bow raised high as she fired on the darkspawn. Bellara appeared alongside her, adding her own magic fade bolts into the fray.

As they fought down below, the rest of the team began hurling arrows, magic, and even rocks in a desperate bid to provide aid from above. They couldn’t make out any words over the roars of Razikale, now attacking them with a total of three heads, but Lucanis could make out their voices now and then, shouting what sounded like encouragement.

They were bolstered by the rest of the team, fighting with renewed passion. Rook was hurling insults at Ghilan’nain as they fought, and the goddess was screeching and snarling as she desperately egged on her archdemon. Davrin was almost laughing as he looked at Lucanis, shouting, “She’s insane!”

Lucanis grunted as he swung, the muscles of his arms aching in protest as Spite kept him moving. “I know!” If Rook heard them discussing her, she didn’t respond. She was too busy raining violence down on Razikale and taunting Ghilan’nain for her failure to kill them. Her eyes were bright with fury, and Lucanis wondered how she kept going like this, she simply wouldn’t give up. 

Her energy was infectious. Lucanis found himself fighting harder, moving faster, Spite’s power burning through his very veins. He was determined, they would win this. They would kill this thing, no matter how many heads it grew, or how many darkspawn Ghilan’nain threw their way. Razikale was weakening, blood and black ichor streaming from its numerous wounds. “We’ve almost got it, be ready Lucanis!” Davrin called out, meeting Lucanis’ eyes briefly. “I’ll kill the demon, you take out Ghilan’nain!” 

Lucanis’ breath was coming hard, he could taste blood in his mouth. “I’m ready!” He rasped back, and he hoped it was true. 

Not a moment later, the beast let out a final ear-piercing wail, and all three heads fell forward, cracking the stone with the force of the impact as it fell. It went still, the Blight under it’s flesh turning from pulsating crimson to a dull black. Davrin rushed forward, and Lucanis bolted for higher ground, Ghilan’nain was still too far away. He didn’t see Davrin strike the final blow, but he knew when it happened. 

Ghilan’nain screamed, blood magic striking her square in the chest as it streamed out of Razikale’s body, rendering her mortal. “Lucanis!” Rook’s voice caught his attention, and he turned to see her throw the lyrium dagger at him. Spite propelled him forward, and he caught it midair before rounding on Ghilan’nain.

He was exhausted, his vision blurring at the edges as he aimed for her heart. He didn’t even see the Blight tendril she raised in defense. It caught him by the legs, swerving him off course. He felt his blade scratch the surface of something, and Ghilan’nain screamed, but she was already retreating as she threw Lucanis back towards the ground. He barely had the time to react, skidding and dropping to his knees as he landed. He’d missed the shot.

Ghilan’nain was raging, panic and disbelief mingling as she wailed. The Blight pulsed around them, and Lucanis felt Rook’s hand on his shoulder, tugging him backwards. “Let’s go!” He could hear the strain in her voice as Blight tendrils rose in a tidal wave, ready to crash down over them.

He shook her off, guilt and the weight of his failure already eating away at him. “Give me another shot.” He made to rush Ghilan’nain again, but Rook grabbed him once more, pulling him back hard enough to make him stumble. “No! We have to go now, back to the eluvian!” He met her eyes, and saw the truth of her words reflected in her fear. She would never leave him, and they would die if they stayed any longer.

She must have read the resignation in his face, because she released him and turned to flee. They ran at a full sprint, the Blight gaining on them with every step. The eluvian was waiting inside, the team had prepared it while they fought. Rook stopped as she reached it, and he stood alongside her, watching as she did a headcount for every team member that ran through. When it was only her and Lucanis left, the Blight was nearly upon them. Lucanis hooked an arm around her waist, diving through with her before she could protest.

Chapter Text

When they crashed through the eluvian onto the lighthouse floor, the rest of the team was already scattered about. Exhaustion and shock had rendered them silent, nobody moved or spoke in the aftermath of their narrow escape. Weisshaupt had fallen, and Ghilan’nain still lived. The weight of his failure was nearly unbearable, Lucanis felt like he might vomit.

Davrin was the first to move. He rose slowly and made his way out of the eluvian room without a word. They all watched him go, the air thick with an oppressive tension. “I… think we should all go get some rest.” Rook’s voice was soft, but it felt loud amongst the eerie quiet of their little group. There were a few nods and mumbles of agreement as everyone began filing out of the room.

Rook grasped Lucanis’ arm as she stood, pulling him clumsily up with her. She maintained her grip all the way through the library, only releasing him once they’d reached their shared quarters. They fell into their usual routine of disarming each other, but they exchanged none of their usual post-mission chatter, numbly going through the motions. Lucanis was only startled out of his stupor when Rook took her under armor off. She was badly battered, covered in shallow cuts and bruises.

Lucanis had a few sores of his own, but nowhere near as numerous as Rook's. She slipped her nightshirt on, her eyes distant as she absentmindedly did up her buttons. She had a nasty wound to the back of one leg, the flesh around it seared by a burn. He'd seen what Neve did for her in the library, a brilliant but reckless idea, typical of Rook. Lucanis kept some potions in their room, and he turned to rummage through the cabinet. By the time he found what he needed, Rook had curled up on the lounge, but her eyes were open. Lucanis made his way over to her, sitting gingerly on the cushions.

“You need to take this.” His voice sounded rough to his own ears, and he held out the potion for her stiffly. He’d grabbed one for himself as well, and uncorked both of them as he waited for her to sit up. She moved slowly, and Lucanis knew she must be in pain. They downed their potions and sat together in the quiet for several minutes, lost in individual contemplation.

Rook broke the stillness when she reached for him, and he could feel her hesitation as she drew closer. She kept going though, wrapping her arms around him as she pulled him against her. He couldn’t resist her, he never could. They held each other, Rook's face buried in his chest, and his nose was filled with the scent of lavender and ash as he rested his head against her hair. Lucanis wasn’t sure how long they sat there, not speaking and not moving. He was waiting for the fallout. Waiting for her to scold him, berate him for his failure, or to become angry and insist that he leave. Something, anything to validate the crushing guilt. He would beg her forgiveness, but not until she said her piece, it was what he deserved. 

“Lucanis?” Her voice was shaky and slightly muffled against his shirt, and he tensed in anticipation. “I…” She swallowed hard, and he realized she’d started crying at some point. He hadn’t even noticed, he’d been so deep in his own emotional turmoil. He looked down at her, pulling back reflexively to wipe at her tears. It was instinct to comfort her, second nature.

“It’s alright.” Lucanis said it without thinking, even knowing damn well it was not alright. She had a million reasons to be crying right now, and not one of them was 'alright.' He rubbed her back with one hand, still stroking her tear stained cheeks with the other, desperate to soothe her. Rook met his eyes, and of all the things he’d imagined she might say, Lucanis found himself completely unprepared for her next words.

“I love you.” She choked it out, fresh tears falling as she said it. He froze, stilling as she spoke. Strands of hair were sticking to her wet cheeks, and she stared up at him with round, tired eyes. He remembered that Rook told him Viago hated how often she cried, and he wondered if it had something to do with how paralyzing her expression was, wide open and sad in a way that wasn't befitting of a Crow.

“What... did you say?” He felt stupid for asking, but he was convinced he must have misheard her. It was a terrible mistake on his part, surely, his exhaustion and anxiety had him hearing things. But Rook stared back at him, sniffling as she repeated herself.

“I love you.” She said it more forcefully this time, her hands coming up to cup his face as she ran her fingers through his beard. She closed her eyes then, taking deep steadying breaths as she tipped her head down to rest her forehead against his chest. 

Lucanis felt lightheaded, and he wondered if she was also feeling dizzy. Had he not already been sitting down, he imagined that he would have gone weak in the knees. He’d just committed what was potentially the greatest fuck up of his life, he had failed Rook in the one thing she’d asked for. He let the team down, let himself down. The rules of life he’d come to live by dictated that now should be a time for punishment, for atonement. But Rook wasn’t angry. She was crying, pulling him close for comfort, telling him that she loved him.

“You…” He was struggling to form words. “You should be upset with me.” She sniffled against his chest, dropping her hands from his face to rest them on his shoulders.

“I am upset with you. But I also love you. Can I not feel both?” Rook pulled out of his arms, lying back against the lounge as she scrubbed furiously at her eyes. The sudden physical distance left him feeling cold, the weight of her words knocking the wind out of him.

“I-yes, of course.” He reached forward to yank her back to him, he wasn't done holding her, especially not now. She winced at the sudden movement, however, and Lucanis sighed. There was nowhere he could touch her that wasn't likely to be sore and bruised, another failing on his part. “I’ve let you down, Rook. This was our contract. I don't fail my contracts. I don’t know how I can possibly make up for this.” Rook shook her head, a spark of the anger he'd been waiting for finally igniting in her eyes.

“By listening to me next time! When I say it’s time to go, we go. We could’ve… you could’ve…” Rook took a shaky breath, she was crying again. Lucanis looked away from her, down at his hands.

“The job was to kill Ghilan’nain. I missed. I thought I still had this. Whatever else I am, I'm a professional. After the Ossuary, I thought at least I could still take out a target. I should have taken another shot.” He could still see it in his mind, he'd been so close.

“I don’t care what the job is! You can’t do it at the cost of your life, I won’t let you. I can’t save the world if doing so means you won’t be in it.” Rook’s crying had morphed into near hysterics, her shoulders shaking with the force of them. Lucanis couldn’t bear her distress, and he tucked her into his arms, settling her onto his lap as he held her. 

She felt so small, it was difficult to reconcile the vulnerable girl she was now with the fearless warrior she’d been an hour prior. He remembered her cold words before they’d left, that she had to do 'whatever it took.' Her recklessness while fighting, her desperation as she sent him and Davrin first at every escape opportunity. Every moment he wasn’t in awe of her, he was terrified for her. His heart twisted with the realization that she’d been worrying about him too. For Rook, success didn't just mean killing the gods; she wanted their entire team to make it out on the other side.

He rocked her like a child as she soaked his shirt with her tears, softly shushing her as he marveled at the differences between them. People died on jobs, it was the nature of the work, but it seemed like Rook had never accepted that. Perhaps she never would. It was a dangerous level of idealism, but it was also so painfully her, that he couldn't help but lean into it. He wondered if Viago indulged this aspect of her, or if that was why he'd always had her work alone. Maybe, he feared his Crow wouldn't come back to him if she were partnered, risking her life for a comrade who might not do the same.

Her sobs had gradually subsided into gasping whimpers, and Lucanis waited for her breathing to steady before he loosened his grip. “I… I feel the same.” He spoke cautiously, not wanting to send her into another fit of tears. “We’ll adjust our agreement, then.” He placed a hand at her chin, tilting her head back to meet his eyes. “Neither of us can die.” She nodded, eyes wide and watery, and he sighed. “Good. Let’s… get some rest.” 

—

The team didn’t gather for their debrief until the next evening. Everyone spent the day recovering, treating their wounds, and processing the events of Weisshaupt. Rook’s injuries weren’t serious, easily treated with potions they had on hand. She was sore, sure, but it was nothing compared to her condition after the dragon attack. Still, Lucanis fussed over her throughout the day, and they spent a good chunk of the afternoon in their room.

When they finally gathered with the team at the kitchen table, the conversation was heavy. Harding updated them on the remaining Wardens, who'd been evacuated to the village of Lavendel, according to Evka’s correspondence. From there, it devolved into arguing.

They were scared, that much was clear. Nobody felt as though they could win this now. The loss was too heavy, and the trauma of Weisshaupt was too fresh. Varric stood just over Rook’s shoulder, a silent beacon of support as she tried to let her team get their concerns out before addressing them, while struggling to keep her own emotions carefully in check.

“We had our shot at her. And we missed.” Davrin’s words were accusatory, and Rook’s hackles rose at the implication.

“Say what you mean, Davrin.” Lucanis sneered back at him, his quiet shock from the night prior had devolved into spiteful anger. “I missed.” There was a dangerous energy rising between the two men, and Rook briefly met Harding’s eyes across the table.

“Nobody blames you for that, Lucanis.” Harding reassured him, as sincere and gentle as Rook hoped she would be. Lucanis’ eyes softened as he met Harding’s gaze, but Davrin wasn’t finished.

“Yeah? Maybe I do.” Davrin’s seething rage reminded Rook of when they’d first met, swing first and think later. “This Crow has a demon inside him, right?”

“Davrin-” Rook started, her tone sharp with warning, but he was past the point of listening.

“How do we know we can trust him? Maybe the demon pulled his punches.” He leaned forward in his seat as he spoke, itching for a fight that Lucanis was too eager to provide.

“And you, Warden? What about the Blight that runs through your veins?” Lucanis met Davrin’s blunt anger with his own quiet viciousness. “The same Blight that Ghilan’nain commands so effortlessly.” Lucanis was on the edge of his seat, prepared to jump up at the slightest provocation.

“Enough.” Rook’s voice came out harsher than she’d intended, but it worked in her favor. Every pair of eyes snapped to look at her, a hush falling over the table. “We're on the same side here, and for the same reasons.” She tried to keep her tone measured, but her own temper was simmering just below the surface. How could they argue like this, knowing what was at stake? They had just gone through hell together, and survived.

“We all saw the terror these gods will bring, and we’re all standing against it. This team needs to depend on each other. To unite against impossible odds.” She sighed, shaking her head. “Otherwise? We’re fucked. Everyone is.” 

The tension eased, but only slightly. As the conversation picked back up, it became clear that the failure at Weisshaupt was the result of more than a mere lack of information. Rook wasn’t a miracle worker, she couldn’t make people do or feel what she wanted. Everyone was distracted, operating at less than their best.

Lucanis was exhausted, barely sleeping as he struggled with Spite. Neve was still devastated by the state Minrathous was left in by the dragon, Harding was struggling with her magic… It seemed like everyone was dealing with personal issues. And they couldn’t move past them. Rook swallowed down a bloom of resentment, willfully pushing her own feelings into a dark corner where they couldn’t distract her.

Rook sighed, redirecting the conversation once more. They couldn’t sit there wallowing all night. She went over a plan of attack, tracking the gods movements had to be the priority. They couldn’t afford another surprise like Weisshaupt. They had to be better prepared, and they couldn’t rely on Solas alone for intel. 

With a plan in place, everyone began filing out of the kitchen, eager to be out of one another’s presence. Everyone seemed to feel a little bit better, except for Rook. Anxiety, frustration, grief; when one subsided, the next took its place. She felt out of her depth and completely drained. She wanted to go home, she wanted to go back in time and undo Varric's injuries. Lucanis stood up from beside her, glancing down at her curiously when she didn’t move.

“I just… need a minute. I’ll join you in a bit.” Rook tried not to sound like she was about to fall apart, she'd already done that once with him. Lucanis hesitated, before leaning forward to brush his lips against her temple, and she leaned into his touch.

“I’ll be waiting for you.” He spoke softly as he turned to go, his earlier venom completely dissolved in Davrin's absence. 

Rook sat in the relative peace of the kitchen, trying to take deep breaths as she focused on the soft crackle of the fire. Varric’s voice startled her, she hadn’t noticed him sitting down. “Kid, you’re doing fine.” She sighed heavily, resting her head in her hands.

“I don’t feel fine. I have no idea what I’m doing.” She whispered the confession, her heart hammering in her chest as she fought to quell the rising panic. 

“Hey, there’s no instruction manual for this shit. Nobody knows what they’re doing.” He spoke softly to her, his words settling over her fears like a blanket, briefly muffling the intensity of it all. “It isn’t fair, I know that. And you handled that like a champ, didn’t even throw any punches!” She smiled slightly at that, lifting her head to meet his eyes.

“Did I tell you I punched the First Warden?” She always enjoyed bragging with Varric, it was a game they played. He gave her a wide grin, his eyebrows shooting upward.

“Oho, now that I hadn't heard.” He shifted in his chair, wincing as he adjusted his broken leg. Rook nodded, her gaze drifting to his leg in it's brace.

“Yup, knocked him flat on his ass. If darkspawn ever learn how to throw a solid right hook, then we’re really screwed. Apparently that’s the secret Warden weakness.” Varric laughed heartily, shaking his head.

“Kid, you’re something else.” He looked like he wanted to say more, but he was overcome by a fit of coughing, and Rook frowned.

“You should probably rest.” She felt the gloom settle back over her, she’d hoped he’d be well enough for a story. Varric smiled at her apologetically, nodding as he did. Rook stood up when Varric rose to leave, but he held a hand out to stop her as she reached out to help him.

“No, no. I'm not that old… yet. I’ll see you around.” He grunted softly, making his way to the door as Rook turned towards the pantry. She glanced at Lucanis’ little cot as she entered, it was still there. She felt a flush rise in her cheeks as she remembered their encounter together in the pantry after the dragon attack.

He hadn’t asked for sex again, since that first time. They’d done plenty of other things. As Lucanis had told her, and then shown her, there was certainly pleasure to be had outside of sex. Making love is what he called it. The heat in Rook's cheeks only intensified, even standing alone in the pantry. She outright told him she loved him last night. They could have all died at Weisshaupt, it was dumb luck that they made it out. She couldn’t bear the thought of that happening again and him not knowing.

She had no idea when her feelings had become so strong, she couldn’t pinpoint an exact moment. As she thought about it, she entertained the notion that she’d loved him right away without even realizing it. She closed her eyes, leaning her head back against the cool stone of the pantry wall. It didn’t matter if he didn’t feel exactly the same, that was a pattern she was comfortable with. 

She loved Viago, and he wanted Rook to be useful. She loved Varric, and he wanted Rook to be a hero. She loved Harding, and she wanted Rook to be good. Rook tried hard to be everything, for everyone. It was exhausting and painful, but it was also all she had ever known.

With Lucanis, it was easier. Rook loved him, and he didn’t seem to want her to be anything in particular. ‘Alive,’ was the only thing he’d specified. She liked that, even if he didn’t love her back. Whatever affection he did feel, it was enough for her, she had decided that before confessing her feelings. She pushed herself off the wall, grabbing several apples and a jar of honey. Snack in hand, she headed back to her chambers, where she knew Lucanis would be waiting. 

Chapter Text

Lucanis was worried about Rook. Everyone at the table took the opportunity to air out their grievances, argue, or make personal requests. Rook hadn’t said a word about her own feelings, or really asked for anything. She’d listened, agreed to various favors, and made plans. There was an unsettling hollowness to her, and he wondered if he was the only one to notice it.

He’d expected her to return with him as everyone got up to leave, but instead she remained seated, staring blankly at the table. She told him she’d follow shortly, but Lucanis felt strange just leaving her alone in the kitchen. An uncomfortable sensation prickled in the back of his mind, just out of his reach, and even Spite seemed to hesitate. Still, he wasn’t sure what else to do, so he left. Rook arrived back in their room over half an hour later, quiet but otherwise in better spirits.

His worry eased slightly as she handed him an apple and moved to sit. “I’ll talk to Davrin tomorrow.” She was cutting tiny slices off of her apple as she spoke, and dipping them in a small pot of honey. “He just needs to cool off. So do you, for that matter.” Lucanis scoffed as she ate her honey soaked apple slices.

“He started it.” He grumbled, and Rook raised her eyebrows. 

“That doesn’t mean you have to finish it.” She licked a small droplet of honey off the edge of her finger, and Lucanis’ gaze snagged on the action, desire pooling deep in his gut. 

“Mhm. Like you finished things with the First Warden?” He set his apple aside, his sights set on a new prize. Rook hadn’t noticed the shift in his attention yet, rolling her eyes as she smiled down at her snack. 

“That was different. I didn’t have a choice. And, that was the second time he tried to arrest me!” Lucanis settled himself beside her, reaching forward to steal one of her prepared slices. She slapped at his hand, but he was too quick.

“I can see why he was so keen on having you in irons.” Lucanis murmured, eating the honeyed apple. It tasted good, sweet and simple, not unlike Rook herself. “After all,” Lucanis reached for her, pulling her into his lap before she could protest, “It’s something I wouldn’t mind seeing myself.” He placed his lips to her ear as he spoke, delighting in the way she squirmed against him. 

Her arms were pinned at her sides in his crushing embrace, as he squeezed her in tighter against his chest. He nibbled lightly at the tender skin of her neck and ears, and groaned as the curve of her backside rubbed against his stiffening cock when she wiggled in his lap. “That… Tickles.” Rook whined as he teased her, grinding himself up against her. He needed to blow off some steam, and she provided that tantalizing opportunity.

He loosened his arms around her, adjusting his hold to lift her back onto the lounge. She reached for him as he straddled her, and he allowed her to pull him down by the shirt as she sought his lips. Rook was never passive in anything she did, but she usually let Lucanis lead during intimacy. Tonight, however, she was uncharacteristically bold. Lucanis matched her enthusiasm in a hot, wet kiss that left them both gasping. “Mierda, Rook.” He groaned as she undid his shirt, and he had to be careful not to rip her clothes in his enthusiasm to undress her, wondering if she was as eager for a distraction as him.

She paused suddenly, and he did as well, ignoring Spite's grumble of protest as he met her gaze. “I want…” She spoke softly, her cheeks pink and her gaze startlingly intense. Lucanis cocked his head, waiting. She clearly had something on her mind. “I want to… make love. With you... Um, obviously.” Her nervous declaration sent a flood of heated arousal and emotion coursing through him, and he stared at her in momentary disbelief. The temporary flash of guilt at his earlier intention to simply distract himself was quickly snuffed out by the rush of butterflies that came with her request.

“I'm... Are you sure?” He asked her lowly, trying to steady his breathing as he searched her face for any signs of doubt. Rook nodded, her eyes bright with affection and conviction. She reached a hand up to cup his cheek, and he turned to place a kiss against her palm. They hadn't rushed anything, at least in Lucanis' limited experience, he didn't think they had. Still, he was determined that this wouldn't be a decision she made based on a sense of misplaced obligation.

“I’m sure,” She breathed, “I want to be with you. Completely.” Her words undid him, and any reservations he had dissipated, crushed under the weight of his own need and Spite's roaring desire. He kissed her again with a newfound intensity, stripping her of her shirt and tugging at her pants next. She reciprocated his fervor, and he helped her as she fumbled with the ties of his trousers. When they were both naked to each other, he pulled back to admire her. 

Lucanis wanted to drink in every detail, he would sear every aspect of her into his memory. The swell of her breasts, the slight darkening of the skin around her nipples, the shiny scar over her ribs from the dragon attack. He reached out to brush his fingers along the scattered bruises and half-healed scrapes from Weisshaupt running up her arms. His eyes traveled lower, across the flat stretch of her stomach and her bare cunt, glistening pink inner lips just barely visible. “You’re breathtaking, mi amor.” The term of endearment slipped out without his express intention, but it felt right, and she didn't seem to mind. When he lifted his gaze to meet her eyes, she was blushing, a rosy glow to her skin that surfaced just for him.

He bent over her chest, peppering kisses across the tops of her breasts as he slid his fingers through her folds. She was already wet, as he knew she would be, and she sighed at his touch, arching into him. He was in no rush, in fact, he was determined that they would take their time. His own first experience with sex was clumsy, embarrassing, and with a woman whose name he never learned. Rook's memories of this experience would be entirely different, Lucanis would make sure of that. He stroked her lazily, mapping every crevice as he coated his fingers in the evidence of her arousal. She moaned softly, turning her face against the cushions as he licked and sucked at each breast, tracing slow circles around her areolas before taking each nipple into his mouth, sucking lightly before releasing her.

She was running her fingers through his hair with one hand, while the other rested against back. The feeling of her fingertips against his scalp was pleasant, and the way she sought to touch him wherever she could sent sparks dancing across his skin. He replaced his mouth at her breasts with his hands, moving to kiss her once more. She tasted like honey, and he licked and sucked at her lips, swallowing the taste of her along with the very air from her lungs. She made a high pitched little sound, her lips parting as he caught one of her nipples, teasing the stiff little bud between his thumb and pointer finger.

He swirled his tongue inside her mouth, exploring her by touch alone as he deepened their kiss. When he finally pulled away, Rook was breathing hard, and he hovered just above her to allow his breath to mingle with hers. “Lucanis,” She sighed his name as he fondled her, her fingers flexing against him as she pulled him closer. “Please I want you…” Rook trailed off, and Lucanis paused, moving to cup her face as he held her eyes.

“Tell me.” He kissed her lightly on the nose. “Tell me where you want me.” Another kiss, delicate against her lips. Lucanis was content to take the lead, but he was also eager to give her those opportunities to voice her wants and needs. He ran his thumbs along her cheeks in a gentle caress as she reached for his wrists, trying to pull him where she wanted him to go.

He smiled at her insistence, allowing her to guide one of his hands lower as she whispered, “Here.” When his fingers grazed between the lips of her cunt, she moaned softly, trying to press herself into his hand.

When he pulled away from her, she let out a needy whine, but he had no intention of leaving her waiting for long. He moved down the cushions, and she spread her legs for him, understanding his intentions. That simple action sent another wave of arousal racing through him, and he stroked his aching cock as he settled her legs over his shoulders. 

He pressed his tongue against her entrance and Rook cried out, her legs tensing around him. He kept his pace slow, licking and kissing around her hole as she trembled, dipping his tongue inside of her in a mimicry of their earlier kiss. He lapped at her folds with a patient hunger, ensuring no spot was left untouched as he savored every breathless noise he managed to pull from her. When he reached the apex of her cunt, he closed his lips over her, purposefully breathing hot air against her as he used the tip of his tongue to stimulate her clit. Rook whimpered, her hips bucking up into him, but he pulled back, leaving her wet and wanting. 

Lucanis shifted himself upwards again, positioning his erection between her legs. He held his cock against her, lubricating his head and shaft by rocking his hips back and forth. She shivered as he slid through her folds, her thighs tightening reflexively around his hips. This would be more than just bearable for Rook, it would be good, he wouldn't settle for anything less. He'd heard some unpleasant stories from Crow women about first experiences being painful, or more accurately, being dry. Even Spite seemed to approve of this slower approach, eager for pleasure, but also intent on Lucanis' goal of not hurting her. As he bent over her, he took one of her hands, linking their fingers before pinning it above her head.

“Are you ready?” Lucanis tilted the tip of his cock against her opening as he asked, pausing. He already knew the answer, in a sense, he'd made sure that she was physically prepared. But, he wanted to give her the opportunity to back out, just in case she didn't know that was still an option. Sexual education amongst the Crows was often focused on pleasuring a partner, and survival, less so on when or how to say 'no.'

Rook nodded, her free hand reaching up to caress his face as she kissed him, she didn't hesitate at all. Lucanis pressed into her, groaning as he slid himself inside, agonizingly slow. It took everything in him to not immediately bury himself within her, she was so wet that he easily could have, but he was focused on allowing her the time to adjust and keeping himself attuned to any signs of discomfort. He felt the slight tensing of her muscles as he stretched her open and the quickening of her breathing, but she was surprisingly relaxed and pliant underneath him. Lucanis wasn't an arrogant man, but he couldn't help the trickle of triumphant satisfaction that came with a job well done.

As he eased himself deeper, he reached between them, stroking her clit as he caught her earlobe lightly between his teeth. She tightened her legs around him, a breathy whine escaping her as he came to rest inside of her. “You feel so good.” He murmured, placing a reverent kiss to her cheek. She turned her face, chasing after his lips, a level of intimacy that he would never deny her. He kissed her deeply, rocking his hips experimentally as he did. She moaned into his mouth, pleasure evident in her tone. He set a slow, steady pace as she writhed beneath him, and he could feel Spite settling into his subconscious with a low purr. Out of the way, but very much present to enjoy the experience alongside him. Rook's breathless cries of pleasure combined with the feel of her around him was intoxicating, and Lucanis found himself groaning as he picked up his pace. He released Rook’s hand to better brace himself against the lounge, and she immediately wrapped her arms around him, pulling him closer.

Rook murmured his name in an almost absent-minded way, trailing her fingers down his sides and sending shivers up his spine. If it were possible to live inside of her, he was convinced that he would. He reached for her hip, hitching his hand under the swell of her backside to press himself even deeper. Rook gasped, clenching around him as he angled himself up inside of her, and he zeroed in on her reaction, testing the new angle with a pointed thrust. “There, that’s-!” Rook buried her face in the crook of his neck, her breath hot against his skin as her cries increased in pitch and pace. She was easy to read and respond to, even through the haze of his own mounting pleasure, and he became almost delirious with the fanciful idea that she was made for him. Or, more accurately, they were made for one another. 

Lucanis was thrusting faster now, unable to contain his burning need and confident that pain was no longer a concern. Her cunt clenched and spasmed around him, and he grunted in satisfaction, her physical response driving him closer to climax. He wouldn’t be able to hold out much longer, and he knew it. It had been over a year since he last had sex, and his endurance wasn't quite what he remembered, but he wasn’t about to finish before she did. He reached for her clit again, rolling his thumb against her in time with the rock of his hips. Rook let out a sharp whine, her fingers digging into his back as she anchored herself to him. “Relax, mi amor. Just enjoy.” He whispered roughly against her skin before capturing her lips in a sloppy kiss, unable to suppress a satisfied grin when he felt her orgasm crash over her.

His name fell from her lips as she arched into him, and he removed his thumb from her clit to wrap his arms around her in a tight embrace, rutting into her without reservation as her climax pushed him right up against the edge of his own release. He wondered if it made him egotistical, how the sound of his name coming from her in the throes of passion was almost enough to undo him, but he didn't really care. Rook hitched her knees up slightly, and Lucanis gasped at the unexpected pleasure, this was an angle he thoroughly enjoyed. He rocked his hips into hers desperately as he came hard with several ragged pumps, swearing under his breath as she clenched around him. Lucanis slowed his thrusts as he rode out his orgasm, until he went gradually still inside of her.

They both laid on the lounge, still connected and breathing hard. It was hardly the longest round he'd ever had, and it was potentially the tamest sex he'd engaged in since his own earliest experiences. And yet, he was utterly convinced it was the best, nothing else would ever compare to being with Rook. Lucanis cupped her cheeks in his hands again, planting kisses wherever he could reach. Her jaw, her lips, her cheeks. He was almost feverish in the afterglow, desperate to continue his worship of her. “Are you alright?” Lucanis propped himself up just enough to look in her eyes, and smiled as her grip on him tightened in response.

“Yes.” Rook gazed up at him, dreamy eyed and still flushed. He was captivated by how lovely she was, and utterly devastated by how little he deserved her affection. Deserved or not, he hungered for the love she bestowed upon him, nothing more than an addict when it came to her. He was certain she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, and this aspect of her was entirely his to enjoy.

Lucanis kissed her lightly on the nose. “Good.” He breathed out. “You might be a little bit sore tomorrow, though.” He shifted, and she took a sharp breath as he reluctantly pulled out of her. He placed another kiss on her cheek before getting up, stretching as he went. “You stay.” He held a hand out as Rook made to sit up, grinning as she frowned. He wasn't done taking care of her, not just yet.

—

“Where are you going?” She couldn’t help but question Lucanis as he made his way across the room. It was surprisingly chilly with him no longer against her, inside of her, and she wanted him to come back almost immediately. She watched him carefully, eyes roaming over his naked form as he gathered their little water basin and a cloth. He could have been carved from stone, all sharp lines and smooth flesh, not a single imperfection. Rook was almost jealous, she'd amassed a small collection of scars over her life, but Lucanis remained curiously untouched by the hazards of their work. An unsettling thought flickered through her mind, as she wondered what manner of torture committed by the Venatori blood mages in the Ossuary managed to leave no mark. 

“I am going nowhere, I swear it.” Lucanis' warm response tore her attention back to the present moment. His eyes were bright, crinkled slightly at the corners as he smiled, and he looked the most at ease she’d ever seen him as he made his way back to sit beside her. She continued to observe him curiously as he dipped the washcloth in the water, ringing it out gently.

“I need to clean you up. You can relax.” He chuckled at her confusion, leaning in to place a frustratingly chaste kiss to her lips as he pressed lightly on her shoulder, urging her to lie back. She gasped when he pressed the cool cloth between her legs, and fought the urge to shove him away as he massaged her through the fabric. “That’s cold!” She whined, and he clicked his tongue. 

“Hm, warm water would be better. I’ll keep that in mind for next time.” He finished his task quickly, and then scrubbed lightly at her inner thighs before pulling back. While his task didn't necessarily feel erotic in nature, he still touched her with a fondness and a reverence that almost made her squirm. Rook might have been embarrassed by such a thing before, but she was remarkably comfortable in the moment.

“Why did you do that?” She asked, propping herself up on her elbows. Her curiosity won out in the end, as it often did.

“It’s a good practice. But also,” He held the cloth up, and she was mildly surprised to see it was stained red. “You bled a bit. It’s normal.” 

Rook blushed at his explanation, she knew that much. She did have a general idea of sex and what to expect, Viago hadn't left her completely unprepared. Although, the experience was a bit different than Viago's clinical explanation and diagrams had implied it would be. “I know bleeding is normal.” She grumbled, and Lucanis laughed, setting the cloth aside before joining her once more on the lounge.

“Spite didn’t know that. He was curious about it.” He reasoned with her as he draped the blanket over them, and Rook almost laughed, she'd temporarily forgotten about the demon. She briefly considered finding her pajamas, but as Lucanis pulled her against him, she melted into the feeling of his skin on hers. She was perfectly warm again, and she got the impression Lucanis wanted it this way. They laid together in comfortable silence while Rook fought against the drowsiness that had settled over her. She wasn't ready to sleep, to let this moment end, or to face what she knew was waiting for her in the Fade.

Chapter Text

“Talk to me about something.” Rook mumbled, squeezing at Lucanis' sides as she did.

“Mm, why? You should get your sleep.” He squeezed her right back, tracing lazy patterns on her skin. She was silent for a moment, torn between ruining the moment and telling the truth. The truth won out, in the end.

“I know Solas is waiting,” She sighed, “I’m just putting it off.” Her chat with Solas before Weisshaupt had been less hostile than usual, but he was also pushier and more evasive than she was used to. He’d all but held her captive with him in the Fade until she agreed to doing whatever was necessary, pressing her for answers to his own questions before feeding her scraps of information. She was always careful with him, but it felt like he was gaining the upper hand, learning which buttons to press, and she didn't know how. 

“Are you frightened of him?” Lucanis’ tone was curiously even, betraying no clear emotion. It was an uncomfortable question to consider, one she’d struggled with often. On one hand, she felt it was only wise to fear Solas. He was an ancient, powerful mage, dangerous by anyone's definition. He claimed to value peace, to have noble goals, but he was also willing to sacrifice life at a devastating scale. Rook had faith in Varric, and she'd supported his plan to talk him down at the ritual site. It was a mistake she was hesitant to repeat.

On the other hand, she didn’t consider Solas to be outright malicious, and she believed him when he said hurting Varric was an accident. She was also convinced that he was more morally aligned with her than Elgar’nan or Ghilan’nain, by comparison. But destroying the world for different reasons was still destroying the world, and she felt uneasy being bound to Solas, she knew he wouldn't tolerate it forever. Rook didn't know what severing that bond would look like, or how it would affect her in the end.

“Yes. I am.” There was shame in speaking the truth, admitting to her fear. But there was also relief in it, the release of a breath she’d held for too long. “But, it doesn’t matter how I feel.” She'd already had this discussion with Varric, back when this all started. He needed her to be strong, her purpose was to fulfill this contract, personal feelings aside. She was startled by Lucanis’ quick movement in response to her words. He pulled back sharply from their embrace, gripping her chin firmly between his fingers as he tilted her head up to look at him.

“It matters.” The familiar hint of Spite flashed in his eyes, but the words were all Lucanis. “It matters to me.”

—

He’d felt the truth in her words as she spoke them. There was a helplessness in knowing this was a fear he couldn’t protect her from, a frustration that burrowed deep. Spite's aggression bled into that frustration, if the Dread Wolf were within reach, he would be tempted to drive a blade through his heart. Still, they needed Solas’ information for their fight, and Rook was the only link, but that shouldn't mean she had to face it alone. Alone. His domain, his terms. It is not a fair deal. Spite whispered bitterly, and Lucanis grudgingly agreed. Somewhere along the way, Rook had come to the conclusion that she didn’t matter beyond what she could give to people. He wondered how much of it was a result of the life she had led, and how much of it was Solas' cruel influence.

“You’re more than what you can offer, Rook.” He could feel Spite’s intensity burning just under the surface. “There is value in what you do for this team, the role you play in our fight. But that isn’t all you are.” He pressed his lips to hers, pulling her into his chest once more. “When you speak with Solas, remember you are not alone. I'm here with you.” Rook nodded against him, tucking her head under his chin.

He ran his fingers along her back, tracing the different scars she’d acquired, stories she hadn’t told him yet. He wondered grimly at what scars he couldn’t see, what moments shaped her into a person who doled out love endlessly, while struggling to swallow it herself.

He could feel Rook's breathing starting to slow, her muscles relaxing under his touch. Without fail, the pull of Solas’ blood magic ached at the back of Lucanis' eyes, the familiar signs that the Dread Wolf was waiting. Lucanis had learned that Rook couldn't be woken by him when she spoke to Solas. He was capable of keeping her with him indefinitely, and that alone set him on edge as she drifted into her unnatural slumber. He gritted his teeth and closed his eyes as he held her, hoping she could still feel the weight of him beside her in the Fade.

—

“And how are you doing?” Solas’ question caught Rook off guard. It was out of character for him to inquire about her, but he was watching her expectantly. He didn’t seem terribly surprised when she told him the results of Weisshaupt, nor did he seem unhappy. She realized belatedly that he’d put her in a spot she couldn’t lie her way out of, it was still too raw. Clever bastard.

“I’m… not great.” She muttered, dropping her eyes to peer down into the chasm ahead of her. Solas was silent, and she realized he wouldn’t accept that, he wanted more. He always wanted more. “It’s bothering me. A lot. Everything that happened and…” She thought of Lucanis, how he’d almost stayed behind, nearly gotten himself killed. “A lot of people got hurt. Died.” A half-truth, but it would suffice. She met Solas’ gaze, his face soft and infuriatingly empathetic. 

“You saw the Venatori seize control of Minrathous.” She suppressed a flinch at the reminder of her prior failure. “What makes Weisshaupt harder to bear?” He knew where to prod her, the questions that would pin her in place while simultaneously keeping her off balance. 

“This was different.” Rook was speaking just above a whisper, squirming under the Dread Wolf’s piercing gaze. “I was in charge, I had an entire team at my back. I had you giving me the information I needed in advance, but I still couldn’t…” She took a steadying breath, she couldn’t let him see her cracking under the pressure. “We still couldn’t kill Ghilan’nain.”

“Rook.” Her name was sharp on his tongue, and she stiffened at his address. “I led a rebellion against Elgar’nan for a hundred of your lifetimes.” Rook scowled, he was constantly reminding her how much older and wiser he was, but she let him continue without complaint. “I have been where you now stand. Do you know how many times I had to order my rebels to retreat when we were outmatched in raw power?”

He smiled at her, and Rook caught the swell of pride as he paced, the most animated she’d ever seen him. “You rendered Ghilan’nain mortal and escaped with your lives. The sting of wishing you had done more will push you to improve, but Weisshaupt was a victory.” Rook’s frown deepened, and she crossed her arms protectively over her chest. She wouldn’t call Weisshaupt a failure, but a victory? With the number of lives lost? No, she wouldn't call it that either. She wouldn’t be like him.

“Your team will see your passion, even if you must conceal the extent of your own pain.” Solas’ words were kind, but his eyes were cold as he gazed down at her. “How are your companions, after what happened?” A seemingly innocent question, but there was an accusation there as well.

“They’re fine.” She answered too quickly, and she saw the narrowing of Solas’ eyes as he latched on to her shifting demeanor. “I…” She hesitated, feeling like a child caught in a lie. “They’re not happy. Some of them are pretty pissed, honestly. I need to work on helping them sort through some personal things.”

“Properly focused, that anger can forge your team into a weapon keen enough to cut through any obstacle.” Solas’ words got under her skin, although she couldn’t pinpoint why. “You cannot stand against Elgar’nan and Ghilan’nain with logic. Those motivated by greed or self-interest will change alliances.” His eyes glinted, a cool smile on his face as he spoke. “But those who serve you with passion and loyalty will follow you wherever you lead…” The smile slipped. “Even to their deaths, if necessary.”

There it is. Rook’s stomach twisted, disgust and anger rising like bile in her throat. “I don’t use people who care for me like tools. I am not gaining their trust with the intention of exploiting it! Unlike you.” She wished she could grab him, shake him, hit him, something. “I’m done here. I’ve told you what happened, I want to wake up.” Solas cocked his head at her, still pacing with his arms behind his back.

“Not yet. Aren’t you forgetting something?” Rook tried to steady her breathing, she narrowed her focus on not feeling so helpless and angry. Solas would use her feelings against her, he already was. “Your next steps. We’ve not yet discussed them. There is more to winning this fight than merely building your team. If you’re clever, perhaps you need not worry about losing those who are precious to you.” His words hit like a gut punch, and she remained silent in the face of his goading.

“If you oppose Elgar’nan and Ghilan’nain’s minions, you will find your next opportunity. Those who have aligned themselves with the gods, you’ve encountered them already, yes?” Rook nodded, thinking of the various villains they’d already faced.

“The Antaam, the Venatori… You think one of their commanders will help us find the gods?” Solas raised his eyebrows at her, and his expression warmed slightly, he looked almost genuine.

“Possibly. But more importantly, you will aggravate them. You rendered Ghilan’nain mortal at Weisshaupt. It is an embarrassment, an insult neither she nor Elgar’nan can ignore.” Solas was nearly excited, his eyes alight with a fire that Rook assumed his rebels would have once found inspirational. “If you continue to disrupt their plans, you will not need to track them down. They will come to you.”

Rook nodded. She had her information now, and she had the sinking feeling he’d gotten what he wanted from her as well. “I’ll be ready.” She didn’t want to argue anymore. She didn’t want to give him anything else.

“One final warning.” Solas’ voice drew her back in, inescapable. “You have survived a confrontation with Ghilan’nain, which few still live to claim. But her power pales in comparison to Elgar’nan’s. If he takes the field himself…” Solas was staring her down, and there was none of his usual manipulative prodding, no ulterior motive that she could see. “In a fight such as ours, escaping to live another day is a victory.”

Solas gave her no time to reply, or to examine his message any further. The familiar throbbing in her skull signaled the end of their little chat, the world around her crumbling away. This was the bad part, the thing she always dreaded. The acrid taste of blood burned in her mouth as her lungs constricted. It felt like drowning, but the water was boiling hot, akin to liquid fire. It lasted until she woke, and it got worse every time she spoke with him.

Now at least, Lucanis was there when she came out of it. The feel of his hands on her arms as her body reacted to the agony of waking usually helped to ground her, to ease the panic and clear the confusion quicker. This time however, even as she registered his touch, his voice calling her name, the disconcertment and pain lingered. It clung to her skin and caught in her lungs like cobwebs, sticky and near impossible to shake off. As her room came back into focus, her stomach churned, and she rolled to the side with a strangled gasp, shoving at Lucanis as she vomited onto the floor.

—

It was the worst Lucanis had yet seen when she awoke. He was tempted to run for help as Rook gagged and retched, drenched in sweat and tears as she fought him, but her white knuckled grip on his arm stopped him. Spite was speaking insistently as she caught her breath. SANK his teeth in. Let me TALK to her.

Lucanis glanced at Spite, his first instinct was ‘no.’ But, Spite had proven himself able to behave to a certain degree with Rook. “Give us a minute.” He muttered to the demon as he dissipated, out of sight as he waited for his turn. Rook had her eyes shut, still curled in on herself as she hovered over the edge of the mattress taking deep, ragged breaths. She had one hand gripping the edge of the lounge, the other holding his wrist.

He placed one hand over hers, carefully loosening her bruising grip on him. “I’ll be right back. I’m getting the basin.” He grabbed his discarded trousers from the prior night, pulling them on as he collected the water basin, a fresh cloth, and one of Rook’s shirts. He resettled himself beside her and eased her into the blouse, one arm at a time. “Just lean back for a moment, I’m going to clean this.”

“I’m sorry.” She murmured, wincing as she moved backwards on the lounge. 

“Don’t be. It’s alright.” Lucanis wasn’t squeamish, and he had plenty of experience caring for Illario after overindulgent nights out on the town. Still, he paused slightly as he cleaned the mess, it was a mixture of bile and bright red blood. That can’t be good. “How are you feeling?” Any questions Lucanis might have asked Rook about their shared night of passion were forgotten. They were replaced now with concern for the increasing intensity of how her meetings with Solas seemed to end. She looked pale, drained somehow after what should have been several hours of rest. Lucanis felt a gnawing worry for the long term effects this blood magic would have on her.

“I’ll be fine. I think it was just… too soon. I don’t usually meet with him so frequently. That was twice in two days, too much I guess.” She was trying to keep her tone light and casual, but he could hear the strain in her voice. He hesitated, unsure if he should push for more, before deciding she seemed recovered enough.

“Spite is… asking for a turn. He wants to talk to you. You don’t have to.” He pressed a hand to the back of her neck absentmindedly as he spoke, brushing it under her hair to feel her clammy skin. She wasn’t feverish, at least that he could tell. She nodded at him, offering a warm smile. 

“Of course, that’s fine.” He briefly wondered if she would even tell him if it wasn’t, before deciding that yes, she would. He nodded back, leaning in to kiss her on the forehead before closing his eyes as he allowed Spite to press forward in his mind.

—

Rook watched Lucanis carefully as he closed his eyes, one of his hands still resting against the back of her neck. When he opened them again, they were the glowing purple of Spite. The demon said nothing at first, his expression blank. He leaned in slowly, almost as if he intended to hug her, but instead he inhaled deeply. It was an odd thing that Spite had done before, he was sniffing her.

“You must be careful.” Spite’s voice was uncharacteristically serious, almost soft, or as close as he could get to it. He did embrace her then, his hold on her gentle as he mimicked what he’d seen Lucanis do so many times before. Rook remained still for a beat, before she leaned into him, resting her head against his chest as she took a deep breath. “He will seize everything. If you LET him.” 

Rook nodded against him, hoping Spite understood the gesture. He gave her a light squeeze, and then she felt a shift in his breathing. “That was all he had to say.” Lucanis’ voice was back, Spite was no longer in control. “Did that make sense to you?” There was a hint of genuine curiosity in Lucanis’ voice.

“Not literally, no. But I think I understood the idea of it.” Rook was feeling better, having sat still for a few minutes. Now, the only discomfort she was keenly aware of was lingering soreness from Weisshaupt, as well as a dull ache between her legs. Her cheeks went warm at the memory of the prior night’s activities, and she was glad Lucanis couldn’t see her face. 

She sighed, she couldn't afford to sit around. “I need to go chat with everybody. Make sure everyone is holding up okay, hash things out with Davrin.” She reluctantly disentangled herself from Lucanis as she moved to get dressed.

“Alright. I’ll head to Treviso then, I need to confirm a few last minute details for the funeral.” Lucanis trailed off as he followed her lead, and they each prepared themselves for the day ahead.

Chapter Text

Rook spent almost the entire day drifting between various rooms in the lighthouse, touching base with her team. Bellara and Emmrich were unsurprisingly the most optimistic. She quickly agreed to assist Emmrich with investigating a rogue necromancer, after recovering from her initial horror upon walking in on him talking to a corpse in his quarters. 

Harding informed Rook of a new update regarding her stone magic, and a potential contact she’d made in Kal-Sharok. She initially requested time to go investigate, and Rook flatly forbade her from going alone, instead promising they would investigate together. “I’m not made of glass, child of the stone, remember?” Harding had teased her, but Rook was firm. 

“You could be made of iron for all I care, I’m going with you.” Rook read through Harding’s correspondence with somebody calling themselves ‘Stalgard,’ and promised they would journey to the Anderfels to meet him at the first opportunity. She then left to chat with Davrin, the one she was least looking forward to.

Rook expected anger when she went to speak with him, and prepared herself to de-escalate a fight. When she entered his room, however, Davrin seemed uncharacteristically sad. He was crafting little wooden figurines of his dead friends, a coping mechanism Rook wouldn't have anticipated, but she wasn’t about to stop him. He vacillated between grief over the loss of so many Wardens, and guilt over his own survival.

“Anybody can hunt monsters. I’m talking about purpose.” Davrin was looking at Rook with a sort of desperation, hoping for answers that nobody would ever be able to provide. There were no words to change what had happened at Weisshaupt, and they both knew it. Instead, she pulled him into a hard hug, and he let out a grunt of surprise.

“I can't tell you why you're alive when the others aren't.” Rook felt his tension ease slightly. “But purpose?” She released him as she spoke. “Look at what you do have. Assan needs you, I need you. To fight the battles nobody else will, to help create a world where the light outshines the darkness.” Davrin stared down at her, his eyes flicking between her and the griffon beside him.

“That…” Davrin sighed, shaking his head even as a weary smile graced his features. “Will require a lot more gingerwort truffles.” Rook grinned, and he gave the side of her leg a light kick. “Rook… you’re a good friend, you know that?” Rook blushed at the unexpected compliment. 

“I… you were a good friend to me first.” She mumbled, embarrassed. She glanced at him, wondering how far she could push her luck. “You know, I happen to know another Crow who could use a friend.” Davrin sighed, sitting against his desk as he did.

“I know. I don’t know why I’m still picking at him, maybe he just makes it easy.” Rook raised her eyebrows, crossing her arms as Davrin chuckled. “Alright, don’t look at me like that. That was an incredible shot he took at Ghilan’nain.” Rook nodded, her smile returning.

“So tell him that. He needs to hear it, from somebody other than me and Harding.” Davrin nodded his assent, running a hand absentmindedly over Assan’s head as he did.

“Hey, Rook… You doing okay?” The sudden shift in conversation caught her slightly off guard, and her confusion must have shown on her face. “I just mean, you’re out here taking care of everybody. Don’t forget to take care of you, too.”

Rook’s mind drifted to Lucanis, he'd said something similar, and she hesitated. Davrin was watching her closely, even as he picked up his whittling once more. “I’m… managing. Lucanis helps where he can. But Solas… takes a toll.” Davrin nodded, his eyes grim.

“Lot of old dalish tales about the Dread Wolf. Who knows what is or isn’t true, but… Well, I’ve got your back. When you need it.” Rook smiled, bitter and cold as she remembered Solas’ callous words.

They’ll follow you to their deaths, if you need. “Me too. Always.” She patted Assan on the head as she turned to leave, her heart heavier than when she’d arrived.

When she entered the kitchen, she spotted a fresh pot of coffee. She briefly wondered if Lucanis had already returned, but immediately realized he had not when she saw the state of the coffee. Rook was hardly a coffee connoisseur, she much preferred her chocolate confectionaries. However, she was Antivan, and she had spent enough time with Lucanis to know that what she was witnessing was a catastrophe. 

She dumped it, lest Lucanis discover it and be reduced to tears. She headed straight back out of the kitchen after, making a beeline for Neve’s room. Neve glanced up at Rook as she entered, papers spread out in front of her on the desk. “Neve,” Rook addressed her, hopping up to sit on a smidgeon of free desk space. “I have a crime that I need a detective to help me solve.” 

Neve’s eyebrows shot up, one corner of her mouth quirking into a smile. “Oh?” Neve leaned forward on the desk, her chin resting in the palm of one hand. Rook nodded, schooling her face into a solemn mask. 

“Indeed. I discovered the scene just now in the kitchen, Lucanis’ coffee pot. The victim? Beans.” Neve snorted at Rook’s words, her eyes drifting to the mug beside her.

“Alright, you caught me. It gets the job done, I’m not picky.” Neve pointedly lifted the mug, slurping loudly.

Rook shuddered, shaking her head. “So, what’s the coffee for?”

Neve’s eyes lost the spark of playfulness as she leaned away, a wall rising in place of the warmth they had just shared.

“What isn’t it for? The Venatori used the dragon attack for a power grab. Now they treat Dock Town like their personal playground.” If she noticed Rook’s sudden discomfort, she didn’t show it. “I’ve heard more cries for help than I can count. And now the Threads have reached out.” 

—

Neve watched carefully as Rook considered her words. She’d often thought that Rook might make a good detective, for the same qualities that likely made her a good assassin. She was observant, more than the average person, she possessed a good memory and a keen mind. Neve liked Rook, but liking somebody and relying on them are two different things.

She wasn't surprised when Rook went to Treviso during the dragon attacks, she would never blame her for it. But, logical or not, the choice had opened up a chasm between them, and the distance left Neve feeling something akin to loneliness. She would never ask Rook for help outright, but guiltily, she also knew she didn’t have to.

“There must be a way to help. A way I can help.” Neve kept her expression neutral, and tried to ignore the constricting of her heart at Rook’s eagerness. 

She nodded stiffly. “Well, if you have the time-” Neve didn't even get to finish before Rook was rushing to speak again.

“I’ll make the time.” Neve softened a tad, sighing as she glanced down at her apparently subpar cup of coffee. She couldn’t keep looking at Rook’s sincere face.

“Alright. I’ll let you know, give me a bit.” She hesitated then, it was hard to stay cold with Rook. Not when she tried so hard and gave so much. “Why don’t we plan a little girls night in the meantime? You, me, Bellara, Harding… Should we ask Taash?” 

Taash was struggling with her identity, there’d been a slight incident in the kitchen prior to Weisshaupt, and she could tell that Rook was weighing her words carefully. “I think so. She hasn’t made any changes or asked for anything different, at least, not yet. Did she ever get in touch with your friends?” Neve nodded, agreeing with Rook’s assessment.

With that, Rook agreed, they would plan some night in the next few days for a get-together. Neve watched her go, sighing heavily when the door closed behind her. Something was off with Rook, she’d thought so for some time. Whether it was exhaustion, stress, or something more sinister, she hadn’t yet decided.

—

When Lucanis arrived back at the lighthouse, it was well into the evening, and Bellara had already made and served dinner. He smiled when her saw a portion set aside for him, a little note beside it in her recognizable scrawl.

‘Lucanis, 

Dinner for you. Let me know what you think, and I’ll give you the recipe!

Bellara

P.S. Rook didn’t eat, I’ve left her a plate as well.

P.P.S. Unless she isn’t hungry. Then tell her don’t worry about it!’

He glanced around, spotting a second plate with a smaller portion. Rook didn’t eat very much, something that he and Bellara had both observed when meal planning. Half of her portion usually went to Davrin or Taash instead. Still, it was a bit unusual for her to skip a meal entirely.

He gathered their plates, balancing them along with the parcels he’d brought back from Treviso. Caterina’s funeral was tomorrow, and he’d picked up armored formalwear for himself, as well as retrieved a set for Rook from Viago. Viago had grumbled about Rook’s ‘lack of planning,’ complaining that she’d never once commissioned her own armor in her life. Lucanis carefully avoided mentioning the set he’d bought her, despite his immediate urge to agree with Viago. 

The courtyard was empty as he made his way to his and Rook’s shared room, everyone else had already retired for the night. When he entered their room, pushing the door open carefully with his full hands, it was surprisingly quiet. He didn’t see Rook, nor did she greet him, and he briefly thought she might not be there. However, as he made his way further in, he caught sight of her.

She was curled up under a blanket on the lounge, fast asleep. He paused, staring at her for a moment. He set his things down carefully, intent on not disturbing her, but most assassins sleep lightly, and Rook was no exception. She stirred, rolling over to look at him. She blinked at him slowly, before a warm smile lit up her features. 

It didn’t matter how often he’d seen it. The smile she seemed to reserve just for him never failed to send his heart fluttering in his chest. He found himself grinning back, every single time. “I didn’t want to wake you.” He spoke softly to her as he made his way to sit beside her. “You must have been quite tired. Bellara said you missed dinner.” 

“Did I?” Rook sat up, looking slightly ruffled from her nap. Lucanis reached out to work his fingers through her hair, nodding as he did.

“I brought your plate back to the room with mine.” She brightened at that, looking over his shoulder to where he’d placed the dishes.

“Ooh! Dinner date.” She moved to get up, but Lucanis stopped her with a gentle hand on her shoulder.

“Are you feeling alright?” He examined her, the memory of the morning was still fresh. That, combined with her apparent exhaustion, had him feeling uneasy. “If you are not well, you don’t have to come to-”

“I’m fine.” Rook cut him off, leaning forward to place a quick peck on his cheek before she shrugged him off to collect their food. “Just a little tired. I feel much better now, I didn’t have any dreams while I napped.” Lucanis’ worry lessened, but only slightly. He sighed, there would be no convincing her otherwise, now that she was set on her course of action.

Rather than dwell on it, he joined her for their meal. She told him about various conversations she’d had, and several new tasks she’d picked up. Lucanis listened dutifully, enjoying the animated way in which she shared the events of her day. When she finished, she stared at him expectantly, and he realized it was his turn.

“Oh. Um, I went to Treviso and got our outfits for the funeral.” He gestured towards the parcels he’d stacked neatly by the fish tank. Rook cocked her head to the side, frowning.

“I didn’t order an outfit.” Lucanis snorted at that, remembering Viago’s ire. 

“No, you did not. Viago got that for you.”

Rook’s cheeks went pink. “Ah. That makes sense.” Lucanis smiled into his plate, suppressing a laugh. Rook noticed, delivering a playful smack to his arm. “Hey! I don’t usually need a lot of outfits. It’s not my fault!” Lucanis wasn’t trying to hide his laughter now as he shook his head at her.

“You’re a Crow. Of course you need outfits.” Rook rolled her eyes at him, getting up to pick through the packages. He watched as she wrinkled her nose at the armor. It was a lovely set of leathers in classic Crow blues, complete with silver detailing and the De Riva crest. Viago had clearly spent quite a bit of coin, and the leathers included a custom matching potions belt with an extra slot, typical of House De Riva.

Lucanis felt old questions stirring once more, Rook’s relationship with Viago was a curious one. The armor Viago had sent for her was a clear indication of his favor, as well as a way of staking claim. Nobody at the funeral would be able to mistake which House she belonged to, or her position within it. Rook sighed, setting the armor aside. “Viago is too much. He’d be less obvious if he just pissed on my leg at this point.” 

Lucanis choked on his food, coughing and laughing. “Rook.” He couldn’t see Spite, but he could feel the demon’s cackling deep in his chest, like bubbles rising to the surface of water. “You cannot ever do 'too much' as a Crow. Viago is clearly concerned about somebody trying to poach you.” Rook nodded solemnly, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.

“Mhm, he’s traumatized from my initiation.” Lucanis leaned back against the lounge, crossing his arms. 

“I believe you promised to tell me that story some time ago.”

Rook regarded him for a moment, before slyly responding, “It’s better told over several glasses of wine.”

Lucanis stood up, stretching as he went. “I’ll grab several bottles.”  

Chapter Text

Rook always possessed a love of stories. Some of her earliest memories prior to life in Antiva involved stories told in the darkness of the slave quarters, fantasies of a life so different from what they had. When Viago took her in, stories were a large part of how she learned the language. He would read aloud to her from various books, refusing to translate. If she wanted to know what was going on, she had to learn the words herself. 

Even her detailed delivery of reports, as well as her skill for observation, stemmed from this long-standing love of stories. She hadn’t known who Varric was when she rescued him, along with several civilians from the Antaam. When the initial shock and anger of Viago’s perceived rejection wore off, she came to believe it was fate that they had ended up together. 

Varric’s passing mention of one of his books sparked her interest early in their travels, and she slyly acquired and read every last one. When she gathered the courage to ask him questions about them, Varric had been positively thrilled at her interest. Thus, their evening tradition of exchanging tales began. Varric told her embellished accounts of his many adventures, while Rook told him about various jobs. These exchanges fostered a closeness between them, and as Varric’s tales grew more personal in nature, so too did Rook’s.

She was certain Viago would be horrified if he knew the extent of what she had shared, but she often changed names or small details about locations. Besides, she trusted Varric, as well as Harding by extension, and grew comfortable telling them things she would never dream of sharing with anybody else. Until Lucanis, of course. She felt a blooming warmth in her chest as she watched him pour the wine and settle in for her story.

“Alright, first thing you have to know; I was an early graduate. So, I was still a teenager when my initiation was approved, and Viago didn't allow me to drink prior to that. At all. Ever.” Lucanis raised his eyebrows at her, a smile on his lips.

“A good start. I’m sure you were a paragon of restraint, naturally.” He sipped at his wine as she rolled her eyes.

“Yes, naturally. Now shush.” Lucanis raised his hands in mock surrender before motioning for her to continue. “Viago doesn’t like parties. But Teia loves parties, and she convinced him that he needed to host something to celebrate the completion of my training.” 

“How did she convince him?” Lucanis interjected, and Rook grimaced. 

“I don’t know, they’re gross and I don't want to think about it.” Lucanis chuckled as Rook moved forward with her tale. “So, night of the party. There were way more people than Viago thought there would be. Apparently, he and Teia had a miscommunication about the guest list. So they were having one of their tiffs, and you know how that is.” Lucanis winced, nodding. 

“I wanted to enjoy the party. So I left while they were arguing. This is when I had my first glass of wine.” Rook paused, and slid Lucanis his glass across the table. “Drink.”

Lucanis stared at her, confused. “The whole thing?” 

Rook nodded, grinning wickedly. “That’s right. This is an immersive storytelling experience.” Lucanis rolled his eyes at her, downing his glass. Rook waited for him to finish before continuing.

“Anyway, I got to chatting with this lovely girl called Amoretta. And she invited me to dance, but I was a little shy, and I didn’t want to. She said I might want to after a drink.” Rook motioned for Lucanis to have another glass, and he obliged. “So I had glass number two. Now, I also hadn’t eaten, so you get to cheat a little since we already had dinner.” Lucanis’ eyes were bright as she spoke, he was clearly enjoying her game.

“Amoretta was right, I was much more willing to dance with her after that second glass. We were having such a good time that she invited me to meet her friends. Well, when she went to introduce me, we realized I’d never given her my name. When they heard De Riva, they got all excited, and offered a celebratory toast.” Rook looked at Lucanis expectantly. 

Lucanis obediently downed another glass, and Rook was pleased to see a light flush starting to color his cheeks. “That was glass number three. Now, this is where it starts to get a little bit fuzzy for me. Amoretta wanted to go outside to get some air. So, the two of us went out.” Rook paused for a moment. “Somewhere around this point is when Viago realized I was gone, and he freaked out. He and Teia split up looking for me. I don’t remember what led to the next drink, just Amoretta handing it to me outside.” Rook waited expectantly as Lucanis shook his head, downing his fourth glass. 

“How much more interactive will this get?” Lucanis’ cheeks were properly rosy now from the wine, and Rook laughed.

“You’re doing better than I did, trust me. I don't remember a lot of the rest. This is witness testimony from here on out, with Viago’s bias.

This was back home in Salle, so this all took place seaside. There were a lot of cats milling about outside by the water, probably waiting for scraps from the party.” Lucanis’ eyes widened. 

“Your thing! With the cats, you wanted one!” Lucanis interjected excitedly, and Rook nodded, giggling.

“Yes, I very much wanted one. I must have told Amoretta, and she organized something of a… competition. She started telling telling people that I would join the House of whoever could catch me a cat.” Lucanis laughed at that, he was putting the pieces together.

“I’m thinking your friend Amoretta was also several glasses deep to make a promise like that.” Rook nodded in agreement.

“Oh, definitely. Although, I do think she meant it as a joke, I have no idea why everyone took it so seriously.”

Lucanis raised his eyebrows, nearly knocking his wine glass over as he leaned forward. “You mean, people were really doing it?” 

Rook smiled at his enthusiasm. “Yeah. So, back inside, Viago hears that there’s a competition taking place to recruit a new Crow. He really lost it at that, and he made his way outside. And I mean… It was chaos. Some people were still trying to catch cats, but it had devolved into dueling mostly.”

Lucanis nodded. “Of course it did. Pretty young Crow up for grabs… competitions don’t matter if you can kill off the winner.” Rook rolled her eyes, but continued. “Teia had caught up with Viago by then, and she was trying to diffuse the fighting, but Viago was just trying to take me home at that point. Amoretta had no idea who Viago was though, she just saw an angry Crow heading straight for us.” Rook poured the fifth and final glass for Lucanis,  as well as one for herself as she motioned for him to stand. She drank her glass in one go, and Lucanis followed her lead. Rook carefully took his glass, setting it aside.

“From Viago’s point of view, she gave me a drink, drank one herself, and then pulled me into the water with her.” Rook placed her hands on Lucanis’ chest and lightly shoved him down onto the sofa, mimicking a ‘splash’ noise with her mouth as he laughed.

“Amoretta had no idea I couldn’t swim, she figured it would just be a creative escape. Viago thought it was a dramatic murder attempt. He had to jump in and fish me out. And then he had no idea how much I'd had to drink, so he was convinced she'd poisoned me beforehand because I was so out of it.” Rook joined Lucanis on the couch with a sigh.

“And that is the tale of my disastrous initiation. Viago became convinced other Houses were out to steal newly promoted Crows from him, I almost drowned, Teia didn't speak to Viago for a month, and I still didn’t get a cat.”

—

Lucanis was warm and a little bit dizzy from the alcohol, hanging on every word of the tale. It was a funny story, made all the more enjoyable by the wine and Rook’s re-enactment. “What happened to the girl, Amoretta?”

Rook smiled fondly. “Oh, we got along great. And she felt terrible about the party. We exchanged letters for a while but… Well, she was part of House Kortez.” Lucanis hummed in response. Viago had killed House Kortez’s last Talon prior to the Antaam invasion in response to his treachery against the rest of the Talons.

“I suppose I’ll have to make sure nobody gets you drunk and tries to drown you tomorrow.” Lucanis smiled at the sound of Rook’s giggling beside him, closing his eyes. 

“I’ll try to behave this time.” She promised, her voice teasing as she pressed her body into his, and he relaxed into her warmth. Tomorrow would be painful, but he was certain with Rook beside him, he would make it through.

When Rook and Lucanis arrived at the Diamond the next afternoon, they could hear Teia’s raised voice from out on the balcony. They exchanged a look, making their way carefully inside. Lucanis was glad they’d had some time alone on the trip through the Crossroads. Rook was a vision in her funeral attire, her usually wild hair somewhat tamed for the formality of the day, the corners of her eyes tastefully darkened with charcoal. He’d needed the time to get his gawking out of the way in advance.

“Let’s have a wager; ten gold says Viago has done something.” Her voice was purposefully low, her eyes bright with mischief.

Lucanis grinned down at her. “Rook. You forget, my cousin is here. My bet is on Illario.” Rook snickered, nodding as they approached the waiting entourage. 

Teia’s eyes snapped to the entryway at their arrival, relief washing over her at the sight of them. “You’re here, finally. We need get going, or we’ll be late. Rook, you look lovely, you enter with me. These two are going to drive me to violence.” She waved a hand irritably at Viago and Illario. Rook and Lucanis both rushed to speak at the same time.

“Would you say this is more Viago’s fault-” Lucanis quickly spoke over her.

“Or would you say my cousin is the greater irritant?” They both stared at Teia, eagerly awaiting a response. She regarded them cooly. 

“Why, are the two of you planning to outdo them? They are both impossible to work with.” Lucanis swore softly, while Rook looked glumly up at him.

“Does this mean neither of us win, or we both win?” Rook’s words drew an immediate scowl from Viago. Lucanis tried and failed to suppress a cheeky grin. “We could just trade gold?” 

Illario snorted, apparently more amused by this exchange than Viago was. Viago spoke stiffly. “Rook, behave yourself. And Teia, Rook cannot arrive with you, she is of my House.” Lucanis gave Rook’s arm a light squeeze, murmuring a sarcastic ‘good luck’ under his breath as Teia rounded on Viago once more. He moved to join Illario. The two of them would be heading out first, so as not to raise any eyebrows.

The last two remaining blood heirs to House Dellamorte arriving in tandem with the Fifth and Seventh Talons would be a strong statement, one they weren’t yet trying to make. The funeral proceedings were taking place in the lower levels of the Diamond, and Teia had done beautiful work with the preparations. An Antivan funeral was ultimately a big excuse for people to get together, eat, weep, and get into public arguments. It was a party, with a touch more drama than usual.

“You’ve been busy cousin, I barely hear from you outside of the occasional letter.” Illario’s nudged Lucanis lightly in the ribs as he spoke, a near pout on his face.

Lucanis sighed. “Yes, this contract with Rook… it is taxing, to say the least. How have you been?” He felt a slight twinge of guilt, he’d been so wrapped up in Spite, Rook, and revenge, that he’d neglected Illario. They’d scarcely been alone together since his return, and he’d been so frustrated with his cousin's behavior that all they’d had time for was arguments.

Illario smiled slyly at the mention of Rook’s name. “Oh, your pretty new Crow friend. I'd be ignoring you too if that was who I got to work with.” Lucanis glared at him, forcing Spite’s snarling to the side. This was normal for Illario, it was nothing new, and it didn’t warrant a reaction.

“Illario, leave her be. She’s… shy.” He’d almost said mine, which would have been an embarrassing slip up, as well as a sentiment Viago likely wouldn’t appreciate if it got back to him.

Illario clicked his tongue, rolling his eyes. “Yes, I gathered that. Inexperienced too, from what I’ve heard. Viago keeps her on a tight leash.” He gazed sidelong at Lucanis, clearly nowhere near finished with his teasing. “But that could be good for you, cousin, she doesn't know she’s out of your league.” Lucanis shook his head, ignoring the bait. Illario’s head would probably explode if he knew the true extent of their relationship. It was ammunition that Lucanis wasn’t about to willingly provide.

“Well, it is bad for you. Your usual tricks won’t work. You’re wasting your time. Now, look sad. This is our grandmother’s funeral, Illario.” Lucanis scolded him lightly, but Illario’s eyes brightened at the familiar banter, even as he carefully schooled his features into that of a grieving grandson. 

“But of course, Lucanis. Let us play our roles, make Caterina proud.” Lucanis sighed, giving his cousin’s elbow a light squeeze before they made their entrance.

Chapter Text

Teia and Viago had continued to whisper-yell at each other as they waited for their cue to enter. Rook had soothed their initial argument regarding who she was to enter with by suggesting the three of them go together. It was no secret that their respective Houses were allied, Teia was correct in that regard. But, Viago had a point regarding Rook’s position in his House, she was his only equivalent to an heir. Rook’s recommendation satisfied both Talons, but now they were arguing about the order in which they would stand.

“Just stand on either side of me.” She snapped, exasperated.

Viago scowled at her. “No, that implies equal claim, it is wrong.” 

Teia snorted, smacking at Viago, which he neatly dodged. “Well, I do have some claim. She’s taken contracts from me as well as you.”

“Some is not equal.” Viago spoke through gritted teeth.

“I am not a fucking pie to be split, and it's almost our turn.” Rook was experiencing a level of deja vu, and she was entertaining the idea of escaping them both as soon as they entered. As if they’d read her mind, Teia and Viago suddenly paused their arguing.

“Rook, you are to stay by my side.” Viago’s tone left no room for argument, as Teia nodded her grim agreement.

“This will not be a repeat of your initiation.” Teia glared at her pointedly, and Rook grumbled. It seemed scolding her was enough to bring them together, as they each took a place on either side of her. Once they heard the announcement of their Houses, they made their entrance as a trio.

—

Lucanis had to stifle a laugh when Rook entered, Viago and Teia perched at either side of her like a pair of proud parents. She looked a bit glum standing between them, and the new context she’d provided him during the prior night’s story gave him the sharp impression she’d just endured two lectures, as opposed to the usual one.

“Look at the two of them, staking their claim on the hero of Treviso.” Illario muttered beside him, sipping at his wine. Lucanis nodded, smiling.

“Rook will be horrified when I tell her all the gossip about her.” He responded lowly, turning slightly so only Illario could hear him.

Illario raised his eyebrows. “You think she won’t like it? She’s in an excellent position, one of the most desirable Crows here. Other than you or me, of course.” Illario was watching her keenly, along with almost everybody else in the room. Events such as this were excellent for information gathering, representatives from every House were present. They also provided ample opportunity for the formation of alliances, scheming and betrayal, and the theft of promising Crows from other Houses. Lucanis shook his head, they were all wasting their time with Rook.

“I told you, she’s shy. And uninterested in that sort of thing, she’s completely loyal to Viago.” And to me. He left the thought unspoken, despite the thrill of knowing it was true. Illario hummed, finishing off his wine and patting Lucanis on the shoulder. 

“Well then, I suppose we can just enjoy the show. Still,” He switched to a conspiratorial whisper as he leaned in close, “If you don’t stake a claim for our House, I certainly will.” Lucanis shook him off, the message clearly received. It didn’t matter what Illario’s interests truly were or weren’t with Rook, she had strategic value now, value that couldn’t go unacknowledged. He moved away from Illario, making his way purposefully towards Viago and Rook.

Teia had already left them, making her rounds as she socialized and gathered intel. She didn’t need to go out of her way to be seen with Illario or Lucanis. Her hosting of this event was proof enough of her standing with House Dellamorte, and she was already a well known favorite of Caterina’s. She was likely focused on gathering information herself, keeping a finger to the pulse of Crow sentiment. 

Rook appeared to be chatting quietly with Viago, her expression unreadable, but when she caught sight of Lucanis, her features lit up. He returned her gaze with a warm smile, before meeting Viago’s steely gaze with a nod as he came to stand before them. “Lucanis.” Viago greeted him formally, shaking his hand. He was also hyper aware of the eyes on their little group.

Lucanis inclined his head to Rook, polite and distant, and her eyes twinkled with mirth as she returned the gesture, evidently amused by this little charade. It was common knowledge that they were working a contract together, but plenty of Crows from different Houses worked together without developing any level of rapport.

Lucanis kept his voice carefully low as he spoke to Viago. “Illario is rather intrigued by Rook’s new popularity. Your choice which one of us you get to deal with.” Viago sighed, looking down at Rook before nodding.

“Keep an eye on her.” His clipped response was accompanied by a pointed squeeze of his hand on Rook’s shoulder, before he released her and left them.

She watched Viago go before turning back to Lucanis. “You doing okay?” She asked him softly, observing him closely. Even subdued, at an event like as this, her open appraisal was such an incredibly Rook thing to do. He nodded, unable to keep a smile from his lips.

“I am, yes. You know, events like this… they’re never really about grieving.” He watched as she shifted, casually scanning the crowd as they chatted. There’s the Crow in her. “Besides, you’re what most people seem to be taking about.” She wrinkled her nose at that, shaking her head.

“Ugh, you sound like Viago.” Rook glanced down at the House crest adorning her armor. “I think my allegiances are rather obvious. But you should’ve heard the argument he had with Teia. The only thing that finally united them was ganging up on me.” Lucanis chuckled, and she grinned back. “I’ll tell you all about it later. We can get dinner before we head back.” 

“There’s food here, you know.” Lucanis looked across the room, where a full banquet table was surrounded by finely dressed Crows. Rook shook her head, wistfully following his gaze.

“Viago doesn’t allow me to eat at these events. You know. The poison thing.” Lucanis knew that Viago didn’t usually eat or drink anything prepared by others, or he tested it first. He was unaware that this rule extended to Rook, although it made sense. He was about to suggest a restaurant, when movement in his peripheral vision caught his attention. Rook must have sensed it as well, as she straightened beside him.

A small cluster of Crows had made their way over to them, offering a chorus of obligatory condolences to Lucanis. There was an elven man among them, notably silent, his focus narrowed on Rook. Lucanis felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise, there was something vaguely threatening about the way this man regarded her. Spite responded in kind, rising to the surface in agitation. Careful of THAT one. Rook met his gaze cooly, and while she showed no outward discomfort, he knew her well enough to feel the shift in her demeanor beside him.

“Rare to see you out and about, Rook.” The mystery Crow addressed her, sneering her name as if it burned on his tongue. “Viago taking his bitch out for a walk?” Rook, to her credit, seemed completely un-phased by the barb. Lucanis glanced at the man’s House crest. House Nero. We should carve the HEART out of his CHEST. Spite’s insistent chatter rattled around in his head.

“Something like that.” Rook left the insult untouched, the picture of disinterest as their little audience murmured amongst themselves. Lucanis was torn between rising to her defense and searching for Viago. HELP her. The demon’s preferred course of action was clear. He had to be careful though, he could do her more harm than good if he reacted emotionally, and Rook was far from helpless. 

As he scanned the room, hoping to catch sigh of the Fifth Talon, the Crow spoke again.

—

His cheeks had gone slightly red, clearly ruffled by Rook's absence of a reaction. She couldn’t quite remember his name, she’d barely recognized the man at first. He was older now, as was she, and a light scar decorated his left cheek, stirring the memory of when Viago had pressed a blade there.

He was a friend of Enzo Nero, her one-time crush, present the night of their date-turned-ambush. “Your Talon must be thrilled with you, rubbing shoulders with House Dellamorte. Tell me, if it was always his plan to whore you out, then why-”

“Enough.” Lucanis’ voice was low but sharp. When Rook looked at him, he was every bit the menacing Demon of Vyrantium, barely contained rage radiating off of him in waves. “Who are you to interrupt my conversation, and make a scene at the funeral of the First Talon?” Lucanis had a good point, Rook realized. This was a bold move, and she felt a nervous unease rising as she scanned the crowd for Viago. Instead, her eyes landed on Teia.

She must have felt Rook’s gaze, and she turned, meeting her desperate gaze. It will have to do. Teia picked up on the tension instantly, subtly making her way over as Rook’s attention was torn back to the altercation at hand. 

“Save it, Dellamorte. You won’t live long enough for your offense to matter.” Rook darted forward as he drew his blade, parrying his blow before Lucanis had even drawn. Teia was there in an instant, the sound of blades being unsheathed almost comically loud as the group erupted into violence.

—

The fight didn't last long, but Lucanis had to pointedly remind Spite to stay out of it, lest his status as an abomination become known to every Crow in the room. The ragtag group of Crows, primarily made up of House Nero, were no match for the combined might of Rook, Teia, and Lucanis. The instigator, name still unknown, was just barely alive and nursing a gut wound when Viago arrived.

Teia traded him her place at Rook’s side, moving to disperse the crowd that had gathered to watch. It was no surprise that there’d been a murder attempt at a Crow funeral, but an attempt on the life of one of the grandsons of the dead First Talon they were there to commemorate? That was a true Antivan drama. Illario was making his way over, and Lucanis couldn’t help but think he would be disappointed to have missed all the action.

“You.” Lucanis turned at the sound of Viago’s voice, and almost shivered at the icy glare he had fixed on their surviving attacker. “You’re one of those little shits Bolivar swore wouldn’t cause me any more trouble. I should have killed you the first time you went after one of my Crows.” Viago’s words weren’t hollow, and he drove his boot into the elf’s pulpy abdominal wound as the man groaned. Viago knelt over him, placing a blade under his chin. The elf opened his mouth to speak, but Viago didn’t give him the chance, cutting his throat in one fluid motion.

Illario sidled up alongside Lucanis as Viago stood, and he glanced back at the two of them. “If you’ll excuse us. Teia will have somebody come by to clean up this mess, I’m sure.” Rook was obscured from view behind her Talon, and Lucanis resisted the urge to follow as Viago ushered her away before he could catch her eyes. Spite was practically rioting in response to Lucanis’ restraint.

Illario whacked him on the arm, and he glared at him. “What?” He snapped, no longer in the mood for his cousin’s taunting.

“What do you mean ‘what?’ The fuck was that all about? I send you off alone and you have all the fun without me.” Lucanis shrugged, irritated with Illario’s callousness. 

“Some idiot trying to make a name for himself killing the Demon of Vyrantium. He happened to know Rook.” He wasn’t about to share intimate details of Rook’s history with anybody, least of all Illario.

He turned to leave the mess of bodies, Illario at his heels. “Well, I’m not leaving you. If somebody tries again, I want to watch.” Lucanis snorted at Illario’s overblown confidence, and tried to stem the tide of concern for Rook.

—

Rook allowed Viago to steer her into the hallway, for once just as eager as he was to be alone together. Viago surprised her when he closed the door by pulling her tightly against his chest, one of his rare displays of outright affection. “Are you alright?” He pulled away as he asked her, gripping her by the arms as he scanned her from head to toe, his concern palpable. Rook nodded. She was completely unhurt, not even winded from the fight.

“Men with knives are hardly the greatest threat I face these days.” She’d meant it jokingly, but Viago’s eyes darkened at her words.

“Men with knives will always be a threat, greatest or no.” He sighed. “But at least you can fight your own battles now. That little display with Lucanis will only increase interest in you. That interest comes with a target, never forget that.” He checked her over once more, before apparently deciding they’d been absent long enough.

They re-entered the main ballroom of the Diamond with no further words exchanged between them. Rook remained dutifully at his side for the next hour, smiling politely as Viago introduced her to various people, feeling every bit like a prize horse being shown off at auction. But, she wasn’t for sale. This little show was purely for Viago’s benefit, and the message was quite clear; ‘This blade is mine, and if you aren't careful, I’ll aim it in your direction.’

“… Three languages, actually. She speaks the elven tongue as well. Some Tevene, too, which would make it four.” Viago was bragging to a merchant, and Rook was miserably preparing for him to have her give a demonstration of her linguistic prowess when Teia appeared. She was the picture of elegance as she politely requested Rook's presence, and Viago begrudgingly allowed her to be guided away.

“Thank you.” Rook breathed into Teia’s ear as she linked their arms, steering her towards the patio doors. Teia smiled, laughing as she shook her head. 

“You looked like you needed a break from Viago’s victory parade.” Rook groaned at that, nodding as Teia grabbed two glasses of wine and led her outside. It was much quieter out on the patio, with only a few Crows milling about. Teia leaned against the deck railing, motioning for Rook to sit beside her.

“Lucanis filled me in on the details of what led up to that fight.” Teia swirled her wine in her glass, watching Rook carefully. Rook stayed purposefully quiet, her eyes fixed on her own drink, which she knew she wasn't actually allowed to have. “Rook, I know this well, so listen; no matter what you do, or how high you rise, there are those who will always seek to tear you down. To reduce you.”

Teia placed two fingers gently against Rook’s cheek, tilting her face so she would meet her eyes. “Heed them not. And spare them no mercy.” Teia’s eyes were fiery, affection and anger in equal measure. Rook nodded, placing her hand over Teia’s as she did.

“I know. I… I’m sorry that I caused another fight at one of your parties.” She smiled sheepishly, and Teia waved her off. She sipped at her wine, and Rook watched with envy. 

“Ah, it’s inevitable. At least this one didn’t involve feral cats and some floozy pulling you into the sea.” Rook laughed, and Teia joined her, their giggles echoing off the sculpted stone terrace, mingling with the soft sounds of the Rialto Bay just below. “So,” Teia started once again as their laughter died down, “Viago hasn’t noticed, because he’s a fool, but me? Not so much. What exactly is going on between you and Lucanis?”

Rook blushed, nearly choking on her own saliva. Teia watched as she coughed with raised eyebrows, crossing one leg over the other. “Oh! Um…” Rook briefly considered a lie, but discarded the idea as quickly as she had it. “I’m… not ready to talk to Viago about it. I will, eventually.” Teia nodded in understanding.

“Wise. You needn't worry about him hearing something from me. But, he isn’t the only Talon looking out for you, you know.” Teia’s words were warm, and Rook knew the truth of them. She’d known Teia for years, and trusted her immensely.

“I know that. And, you don’t have to worry. About Lucanis and me, that is.” Rook sighed, her gaze wandering out across the dark expanse of the bay. “It’s like… he’s my best friend. And then just… so much more.” She sensed Teia grinning beside her, and she couldn’t stop the gushing once it started. “He’s so funny. Really good in a fight. But also kind. He isn’t at all what I expected.” Teia sighed, and Rook met her eyes once more.

“You love him.” Teia’s voice was soft and her cheeks were a bit pink, whether from the wine or the conversation, Rook couldn’t be sure. 

“I do.” She confirmed it with more confidence than she might have thought possible. Teia slid her hand over Rook’s back and across her shoulders, squeezing her in a one armed embrace as she sighed.

“You’re so... grown up, now.” Teia sniffled slightly, and Rook was surprised to see that her eyes were wet with tears.

“Oh, gosh, Teia. Um, how much wine have you had?” Rook was certain now that the color in Teia’s cheeks was more than just affection. Teia ignored her.

“Caterina would be so happy. Oh, Rook, I wish you’d had more of a chance to get to know her. She would have just loved you. In her own way, you know...” Teia was babbling now, and Rook patted her awkwardly.

The patio doors swung open, revealing Lucanis and Illario. Lucanis’ eyebrows shot up at the scene, while Illario looked like he suddenly wanted to go back inside. Lucanis didn’t give him the chance, tugging his cousin roughly out the door with him. “Everything alright?” His eyes betrayed his amusement, and Rook nodded.

“Yup. Just sorting through some feelings.” Rook mumbled, and Teia squeezed her harder, finishing off her wine glass as she did.

“Rook is a good girl, and she got none of it from Viago. It is all my influence.” She asserted this to both Lucanis and Illario.

“Perhaps you should tell that to Viago. He won’t refute it while you’re crying. Makes him uncomfortable.” Rook meant it as a joke, but Teia’s eyes went wide.

“You’re right. I’ll go find him. Boys, keep an eye on Rook.” Teia stood up, took Rook’s full glass of wine from her, and made her way purposefully back inside. Rook regarded Lucanis and Illario seriously before speaking.

“If Viago asks who gave her that idea, you’re both to deny my involvement.” Lucanis laughed as he made his way to her side, and Illario rolled his eyes as he turned to head back indoors.

“I’m going to go watch that conversation instead.” Illario called over his shoulder, leaving Lucanis and Rook truly, finally, alone.

—

“What was all that about?” Lucanis took Rook’s hand, lacing his fingers through hers behind the railing, where none could see it if they were happened upon. Rook shook her head, smiling down at her boots.

“Nothing. Just Teia coming to terms with the fact that I’m not a little girl anymore.” Lucanis appraised her openly, taking in the way her armor hugged her body, how the slight stain of rouge on her lips drew the eye.

“No, you certainly are not.” Rook giggled, elbowing him softly. Lucanis suddenly, desperately wanted to leave. To be away from prying eyes, to have her entirely to himself. OURS. Once more. He’d spent a long night watching everybody want what was already his, and being unable to do a thing about it. 

“Do you want to get out of here?” Lucanis squeezed her hand as he asked, too eager to be embarrassed at how transparent he was. Rook looked up at him through her lashes, pretending to consider his offer.

“Hm… where to?” Her eyes drifted to his lips, the confirmation that she wanted him as well sending a rush of heat through him. 

“I happen to know a place. Still hungry?” He resisted the urge to drag her away without further delay as she smiled coyly at him.

“Starving.” 

Chapter Text

It was easy enough to sneak out of the Diamond, and the two Crows raced over rooftops together, joking and laughing like a pair of fledglings getting their first taste of freedom. As they crossed into the Coin district, Lucanis scurried down a trellis, Rook following close behind. Late night dinners were common in Antiva, and Treviso's many restaurants and cafes were still bustling hubs of activity. 

Lucanis ducked into a nearby alley, dragging Rook along with him. He pressed her into the wall, unable to contain himself as he kissed her. She pulled him closer, sighing into him as she returned his enthusiasm. As they broke apart to breathe, he raised his hands to her cheeks, tipping his forehead against hers. “You’re beautiful.”

She smiled as she whispered, “No, I’m hungry.” He pinched her cheeks, and she yanked at his wrists in response, laughing as he placed a kiss at her jawline. He tugged her by the hand out of their little alleyway, and they scanned the various eateries. 

“Let’s get it to-go, I already have a place in mind for us to spend the evening. What do you feel like?” Lucanis questioned her as they strolled hand-in-hand, and Rook answered without hesitation.

“Pasta. Anything with pasta.” Lucanis rolled his eyes, that didn’t narrow it down by much. Still, he made a beeline for a small restaurant that he knew was well known for it’s fresh noodles made daily. He ordered for the both of them, and scanned their wine collection before picking out a bottle to add to their meal.

They didn’t have to wait long before the shop boy passed Lucanis a bottle of port and a wrapped satchel, steam rising from within the cloth. Lucanis carried their food in one arm, and guided Rook through numerous back alleys and courtyards as he searched for their destination. There were less people the further he led her, until the only sounds were their soft steps on the cobblestones.

He scanned their surroundings carefully before spying what he was looking for. He released Rook’s hand, hopping up onto a long-abandoned shipping crate, and rustled around until he found the broken latch of the window. It swung open, and he grinned over his shoulder at Rook as she climbed up beside him, and they both entered through the window.

“Ah, yes. I too have favorite abandoned buildings." Rook’s tone was playful, and Lucanis rolled his eyes as he led her up a set of stairs, pushing the waiting door open with a flourish.

“I spent some time here out of necessity on a job.” He explained as they entered the room, and he was pleased by Rook’s sharp intake of breath. The room was complete with a coffee table and cushions, and his stack of blankets were untouched, exactly where he’d left them. He placed their meal on the table as he moved to light up the fireplace, and he was pleased to find that he had left himself enough striking flint.

He glanced over his shoulder to see that Rook had found her way to the large, circular bay window. As the fire took, he stood up, dusting his hands off on his thighs. “This window happens to overlook the gardens of a rich widower’s estate. Well, she wasn't a widower when I took her contract. She is now.” He took in the view with her, it was truly breathtaking. In addition to the wealthy widow's gardens, the twisting network of canals were on full display, lit up with the reflection of Treviso’s twinkling lights. 

“It’s a good spot for making a hasty retreat, I keep it stocked for when I need to wait something out, or…” He trailed off. He’d often come here on nights when he simply didn’t feel like going home. It was a secret place, entirely his. And now, it could be theirs, even if only for a night. 

“It’s lovely.” Rook turned to face him, genuine and earnest. She was still the same Rook from their first conversation in the pantry, in moments like this, despite everything. Lucanis took her by the hand, leading her to sit on the floor by the coffee table as he unpacked their gnocchi. Rook kicked off her boots, tucking her legs up under her as Lucanis followed suit. “So! Other than the murder attempt, did you have a good time? At the… funeral?” 

Lucanis grinned, shaking his head as he uncorked their wine, placing the bottle between them. “No, I did not. You?” Rook sighed, shaking her head just as he had done.

“Nope. Who knew? Funerals make for kind of a bad party.” Lucanis recognized this trick now, something funny to cover something painful. His mind drifted back to the earlier altercation as they ate. Should have been OUR blade. At his throat! Spite interjected, and Lucanis agreed inwardly. That was a kill he would have enjoyed, but it was Viago’s by rights.

Still, the way that little bastard had spoken to her. Lucanis bristled at the memory, stealing a glance at Rook. “You… when that Crow said those things to you. You barely reacted.” He wasn’t sure what he was looking for, or what his question was, but Rook answered him all the same.

“Yes. Getting angry would have been what he wanted.” She was matter of fact in her explanation, clinical. 

“But, you outmatched him, easily. And…” And you had me. He knew it was unnecessary, she wouldn’t have needed his help in that fight. She would have been fine, even on her own.

Rook looked at him quizzically. “If you were me, would you have engaged him?” She was asking him seriously, and Lucanis paused to consider it. “I’m not sure.” Rook nodded, he must have answered correctly. “Neither was I. I was still deciding what to do when he attacked you, and then the decision was made.” 

“Are you upset that Viago killed him?” He wondered if the kill should have been hers, given the history, but Rook shook her head.

“Not at all. He's dead, the path to get there doesn’t matter to me.” She hesitated, looking like she might say more for a moment.

“But… you are glad, that he’s dead?” Lucanis kept prodding, curious at what was moving under the surface, the feelings that he couldn’t see.

“Yes.” Rook looked him in the eyes, suddenly very serious. “He tried to kill you. I never would have let him live after that.” He felt his cheeks go warm at the realization that Rook was thinking about him the entire time. While the Crow was hurling insults, she was evaluating his motives. She’d parried his initial strike before Lucanis had even pulled his blade, she only decided on a course of action when she perceived danger to him. Her staunch loyalty was both flattering and distressing, he hadn’t yet done enough to deserve it.

“Are you finished with your meal?” He asked her quietly, and she nodded.

“Yeah! It was-” He didn’t give her the chance to finish, pulling her roughly into his lap as he kissed her. He wanted Rook, more than anything. Her love, her stories, her loyalty, her body. He wanted to occupy her every waking moment, the way she did his. He was frustrated with the armor that created an unwelcome barrier between them, and began the usually arduous task of unclasping her at breakneck speeds.

“Mierda. You look great in this, but I want it off.” He broke their kiss as he grumbled at the sheer number of straps and buckles. Had Viago commissioned it this way on purpose?

Rook was giggling, helping him strip her down to her underclothes, and then starting on his. Once they were both in nothing but their underwear, Lucanis eagerly directed her to the waiting floorbed, really nothing more than a collection of pillows and woolen blankets. He pulled her against him as they tumbled onto the makeshift bed, making quick work of her breast band and tossing it aside.

The sight of her left him breathless, illuminated in duality by the warm glow of the fire and the cool beam of the full moon through the window. She was both familiar and brand new, a contradiction beneath his roaming hands. He placed his lips to her collarbone, pointedly marking her as his. “Lucanis.” Rook sighed his name, shifting to pull his lips back up to hers.

She kissed him insistently, one hand resting at the back of his neck as she reached down to cup him through his underwear. He ground himself into her hand, her touch warm and nearly electric with how it affected him. “I love you.” She whispered it easily against his lips, as if it weren’t the most wonderful and terrifying thing in the world.

He pulled back just enough to look into her eyes, searching as his breath came hard, his heart hammering in his chest. He placed his thumb against her lips, tracing his way back to her jaw. “Say it again.” He couldn’t hide his desperation, his need. Not anymore. Rook’s breath hitched at his request, but she spoke without hesitation.

“I love you.” She murmured it again, her hand drifting from his neck to caress his cheek. “Don't you believe me?” Her eyes never left his, her voice as soft as her touch. Lucanis felt the unexpected threat of tears, a sensation he hadn't grappled with for years. He swallowed hard against it, overwhelmed by the honesty of her, the sincerity. He did believe her.

“Yes.” His breath caught as he whispered back to her. She palmed him again and he closed his eyes, surrendering to her in a way he never had for anybody. His focus was solely on her touch, and he allowed her to shift them, swapping their positions. He lay on his back as she settled over the top of him, pressing her lips just over his pulse. He trailed his fingers up along her ribs as she continued to place gentle kisses down his neck and chest, her fingers flexing around his erection through the fabric. 

He wanted to feel her, to have nothing left between them, and Rook hooked her fingers in the waistband of his underwear as if she’d read his mind. He tried hard to steady his breathing, groaning as her fingers traveled along the length of him. His eyes were still closed, his attention entirely occupied by her hands, and he gasped with shock and pleasure at the unexpected swipe of her tongue across the head of his cock. His eyes flew open, his hand instinctively tangling in her hair, he wanted more of that.

This was a pleasure he rarely allowed himself, it was too vulnerable, too easy to be caught off guard. But with Rook? He closed his eyes again, relaxing as she stroked him, the heat of her breath on his cock making him twitch in anticipation. She licked along the underside of his shaft, and he couldn’t help the gasping moan that escaped him. “Rook, that’s…” She paused, and he felt her look up at him.

“…Good?” She offered, sounding a little unsure, and Lucanis would have laughed had he not been so desperate for her to keep going. 

“Yes, good. Very good.” He almost cried out when she resumed, shuddering as she ran her tongue up and down the length of him. Her explorations brought her back to his sensitive tip, where she lapped at the precum gathering before experimentally taking him into her mouth. 

Her teeth grazed him just barely, and he grunted at the sensation, although not entirely unpleasant, his fingers tightening in her hair. She adjusted without his prompting, bracing one hand against his thigh before closing her lips around him once more. Now, it was just the warmth of her mouth, the wet expanse of her tongue stroking him as she sucked. This time, he did cry out, pressing her head forward as he fought not to buck upward into her throat. 

Rook continued at a steady pace as he nearly came unravelled at the sensation, the obscene sounds of her mouth around him driving his arousal even higher. He released a stream of expletives, only punctuated and broken up by her name. It was simultaneously too much and not enough, and he tugged gently at her hair as she released him. “That… that’s too good.” He panted, placing one hand over his eyes as she crawled up his body, placing a kiss at his collarbone.

As he recovered, he grabbed hold of her, flipping their positions again. “My turn.” He murmured, not waiting for a reply as he tugged at her panties, nearly ripping the delicate fabric in his desperation. There was no teasing to be had now, he wanted to hear her screaming. He tugged her down by the hips as he positioned his head between her legs, closing his mouth over her cunt as he went in for the kill.

—

No single experience with Lucanis was ever exactly the same, Rook was learning. Despite having done this on several occasions now, she found herself completely unprepared for the onslaught of pleasure Lucanis was currently lavishing upon her. The heat and pressure of his tongue against her most sensitive spots had her writhing beneath him, unable to catch her breath.

He moved at a pace she couldn’t keep up with, switching pressure and position before she ever had a chance to adjust. Their usual marathon of ecstasy was now a sprint, and she was dimly aware that her cries had reached a likely indecent volume. He slid two fingers inside of her, stroking up along her inner walls as he focused his lips and tongue on her clit, the graze of his teeth sending tremors through her.

Rook wasn’t sure if she wanted him closer, or needed him to give her a break. She resolved that it would have to be the former, he didn’t seem to have any intention of stopping and she wouldn't be able to form the words to ask. She reached for him, pressing his head against her as she gave herself over to the way he was making her feel. He let out a growl of approval, a sound that had her toes curling as she locked her ankles around his back.

She was dripping with a combination of his saliva and her own arousal. Lucanis had made a proper mess of them both, spreading the evidence between her thighs and all over his beard. When he pressed a third finger inside of her, the resulting orgasm took her by surprise. She nearly sobbed with the force of it, spasming around his fingers as he showed no signs of stopping.

“Lucanis, oh, please…” She was gasping, tugging at his hair as he continued to lick her, the friction of his beard against her oversensitive nerves turning her thoughts into putty. “Please, Lucanis, I can’t-” She whimpered in relief as he lifted his face away from her, but he didn’t stop the sinful pumping of his fingers.

“If you can still speak, then we aren’t finished, mi amor.” His words were a low rasp, his breath hotter than veilfire against her tingling skin as he punctuated his words with a curl of his fingers. He kissed along her thigh, his thumb replacing his mouth at her clit. She hadn’t yet recovered from her first orgasm when the second one ripped through her, and she saw stars.

Rook barely noticed as he extracted himself from between her legs, dabbing at his mouth and beard with the blanket before repositioning his hips above hers as he climbed on top of her. She was drawn to his lips as if by magnetic force, quaking hands pulling him close as she tasted herself on his tongue. He hooked an arm under one of her thighs, hitching her leg back and stretching her open. She could feel the warm pressure of his cock against her entrance, and she opened her mouth to his tongue, granting him entrance in every possible way.

She sighed, raking her fingers through his hair as he sheathed himself inside of her in one fluid motion. There was the barest hint of soreness, but the pleasure all but blotted it out as he moved inside of her. The rocking of his hips was surprisingly gentle after the frenzied passion of their foreplay. 

“I don’t deserve you.” Lucanis spoke roughly against her lips, his eyes closed as he pulled her ever closer. She frowned, his words rousing her from the haze of affection and pleasure. He’d said that once before, after the dragon attacks in the pantry. His desperate request earlier that night for her to repeat her declaration of love stirred a painful realization. 

“Look at me.” She placed her palms against his cheeks as she pleaded with him. He opened his eyes, holding her gaze. His pupils were blown wide, dim hints of luminescent purple betraying Spite’s presence among them. “You do deserve me.” She took one of his hands, guiding it to rest just over her heart. “I am yours. And I love all of you.” 

He stuttered in his movements, his eyes going wide, his lips parted in surprise. She took advantage, leaning forward to kiss him, trying to still her own quivering as she flushed with the vulnerability of her confession. But she needed him to see her, to believe her. To understand the depth of her feelings, and to know that he was worthy of them. She would give him everything, if he would only take it.

—

Lucanis had never felt so awash with warmth. Rook’s words and the steady beat of her heart beneath his fingers. The feeling of her wrapped around him so completely, body and soul. It was everything he'd ever wanted, yet never dared to hope for. All the love he was too scared to reach for, and she had placed it directly in his hands. It was too late now, he realized. There was no going back, all he could do was tumble forward with her along the path she’d set them on the moment she pulled him from the depths of the Ossuary. “I love you, Rook. I’ve always…” He let out a shuddering breath as she clenched around him, the intensity of their physical connection only heightened by their emotional exchange. 

He placed both hands under her thighs and she wrapped her arms around his neck as he lifted her up. He propped her against the wall, her calves pressing into his back as she locked her legs around him. She gasped as he seated himself deep inside of her, and he pressed his mouth to hers, drinking the air from her lungs as he rocked up into her. He kept his pace steady for as long as he could manage until he felt Rook grinding herself down against him, whimpering with desire, and he knew she needed more.

He shifted one arm under the bend of her knee, bracing his hand against the wall as he picked up the pace. He dragged himself out of her, only to snap his hips back in as she cried out, his movements fluid and easy as her arousal thoroughly coated them both. Her fingers dug into his shoulders, and he could feel himself teetering dangerously close to the edge. Spite’s constant presence suddenly intensified, and they were both bathed in a violet glow as his wings manifested. Lucanis paused, glancing nervously at Rook, but she kissed him before he could say anything. “All of you.” She reminded him breathlessly between kisses. “I love every part of you.” 

It was all he needed, and he rutted into her with a renewed vigor, Spite moving in tandem with him and increasing his endurance while staving off his looming orgasm. Rook dropped her forehead against his shoulder as he buried himself inside of her, and she tensed around him while moaning declarations of love and desire against his skin. As he angled further up inside of her, she let out a sharp yelp of pleasure, and he held her there, rocking against that spot again as her walls tightened and she gushed around him. Spite's presence had a strange effect, seeming to both impossibly muffle and intensify everything at once, and he had to make a conscious effort to keep himself focused. He kept going, gasping and panting as Spite released whatever strange semi-hold he’d taken, and his own orgasm washed over him in almost perfect synchrony with hers. 

He was nearly blinded by the intensity of it, pressing his chest against Rook’s as he forced her harder against the wall. He continued to thrust wantonly as he came in multiple bursts, gasping and shuddering with each delicious squeeze her cunt around him. He kept her there for a moment, until he was certain his knees wouldn’t give out. Then, he stepped back gingerly, one arm propped under her backside and the other wrapped around her shoulders as he embraced her. He settled her back onto their floor bed before slowly sliding out of her. The results of their joint orgasm leaked onto the cushions, and he slipped his fingers inside of her as she shivered, coaxing the mess out of her as gently as he could. He didn’t have a basin of water here, so this would have to do. He pulled another blanket from his pile before pulling her against his chest, a nightly ritual he would never tire of. 

Chapter Text

As Lucanis held Rook against his chest, his mind wandered back to the events of Caterina’s funeral. He’d been unable to reveal the true nature of their relationship, forced to hold his tongue while she was accosted and hold back Spite during their fight. It was the result of his own cowardice, and his inability to place her above the demands of the Crows. It felt petty now, he was certain nothing in the world could keep her from him, he would simply never allow it. 

“We should talk to Teia and Viago, when we get back to the Diamond.” He ran his fingers up and down Rook’s back as he spoke, shifting slightly to sit up against the wall.

“Can Viago not be part of our pillow talk?” Rook groaned back at him, propping herself up to look at him as he chuckled.

“We shouldn’t have to hide things from them. It will only get harder the longer we wait.” He reasoned with her as she squirmed.

“I… Maybe. Teia is one thing, but Viago will be difficult.” She sighed, tucking her head under his chin, flooding him with the scent of lavender as her hair tickled his face. “What if he tries to murder you or something?” Rook sounded downright miserable, and he couldn't help the laughter that spilled forth.

She pulled away from him again, pouting. “I’m serious. Didn’t you see him at the funeral? He’s insane.” He reached for her, tugging her back against him where she belonged. 

“Viago is many things, I wouldn't call him insane. What I saw was him protecting you.” Rook shook her head with an exasperated sigh.

“Not the thing with House Nero. I mean after. Dragging me around everywhere with him. Or, before we even entered, arguing with Teia about who has greater claim to me. It’s no wonder people call me his pet when he treats me like that.” Rook's frustration was evident in the tone of her voice, and in the tension that had settled over her.

Lucanis thought back to his conversation with Teia when they were planning the funeral. She’d called Rook a ‘good find,’ an odd turn of phrase that had bothered him at the time. Rook’s habit of pushing her feelings to the side and her near obsessive drive to do for others rose in his mind, and he felt a twist of sadness that this was the only type of love she knew.

His own upbringing with Caterina wasn’t dissimilar, in some respects. He understood that love was conditional, to a degree. Caterina’s favor was dependent on performance, and he had always outperformed, where Illario struggled and acted out. Lucanis did eventually come to an understanding that Caterina’s harshness stemmed from a strong desire to keep them alive, even if it was at the cost of their happiness. She’d lost all of her children and all of her grandchildren, save the two of them.

He wondered, not for the first time, if Caterina had been softer at some point. Had she loved without boundaries, forgiven shortcomings and overlooked mistakes, only to see those precious to her taken one by one? Had she learned to only grow attached to the things she was confident she couldn’t lose? If so, he couldn't bring himself to fault her for it.

But for Rook, it would have been different, harder, perhaps. She had no blood relation to Viago, and she was keenly aware that she owed something from a young age. There would have been no promise of love despite failure in her mind, no inherent familial value. No cousin to lean on, only Viago and his high expectations, the burden of a debt that could never be repaid.

Still, Lucanis didn’t see Viago as a man with a possession when it came to Rook. He did see love, pride, and worry. He saw a man who, like Caterina, was hard on the people he loved in an attempt to shield them. Viago was in the midst of a balancing act. Show his favor for Rook, and make it clear she was under his protection. Show too much, and she would be seen as a liability, and therefore a target.

Viago had made Rook strong, just as Caterina had made Lucanis strong. But the process of sharpening a person into a blade was bound to leave it’s scars, and Rook’s were becoming clearer to Lucanis, as he was sure his were to her. He was struck again by the feeling that they were meant to be together, to offer each other the type of love they’d always been denied. He pressed his lips to Rook’s temple.

“Viago cares for you, in his way.” It was all he could articulate, for now. I will just have to show him, he isn’t the only one. Spite’s low purr of approval and Rook’s sigh of resignation occurred in tandem.

“Fine. We’ll talk to him in the morning.” Rook agreed, tugging Lucanis down to lay beside her. As her breathing slowed, Lucanis allowed true sleep to take him as well, confident that Spite would behave as long as Rook was in his arms.

—

Rook was beset with nervousness as they entered the Diamond. She was trying very hard to not imagine worst case scenarios, and failing miserably. It was in her nature t plan for the worst, a deeply embedded habit that she couldn't shake. They’d agreed Lucanis would speak with Teia first, and tell her about Spite. Then, they would all speak with Viago as a group. Rook hoped that having Teia on board would be a suitable buffer for her deception. Lucanis paused out on the terrace, and she wanted to avoid his gaze, but he wouldn't let her.

“Do you want to come with me to talk to Teia?” He asked her gently, his fingers light on her arm. She shook her head, steeling herself.

“No I should… I should wait with Viago.” She hesitated then. “Unless you’re worried? Do you think you’ll need me?”

Lucanis chuckled, and she frowned. She wasn’t joking. “Rook, I can take care of myself. And I don't think Teia will try to murder me, she likes me too much.” Rook nodded stiffly, and Lucanis sighed beside her. “It will be alright, mi amor.” The diminutive, and the affection with which he spoke it, had her cheeks burning. He turned up the stairwell into the Diamond, and she took one more deep breath before trailing after him.

Teia was in the lounge with paperwork spread out in front of her, and Lucanis made his way over to her without hesitation. She looked up at his approach, smiling warmly. When her eyes found Rook she called out to her. “Viago is in his office!” Rook nodded, heading towards the door that would take her down a flight of stairs leading to Viago’s office. Technically, it wasn’t his office. It was a little room that Teia was apparently not using for anything else, and Viago had simply claimed it as his own.

The door was closed when she arrived, so she knocked, trying not to sound as hesitant as she felt. “Yes?” Viago’s voice answered from within, and Rook pushed the door open cautiously, as though it might explode on contact. When she peeked inside, Viago was seated at an ornate desk, reading what appeared to be a contract. When he looked up at her, he scowled and set the paper aside, motioning for her to enter. Rook did, closing the door gingerly behind her.

“I assume you are here to apologize?” Viago crossed his arms over his chest as he addressed her, nodding to a seat across from his desk. She frowned as she moved to sit, sifting through her memory for what recent slight might warrant an apology. She was drawing a blank, and Viago’s frown was deepening with each second that passed in silence, so she latched on to her conversation with Teia the prior night.

“I, um. I’m sorry that I told Teia if she cried it would make you uncomfortable. And that she could use it to win an argument?” Viago opened his mouth to speak, but then froze, staring at her with an almost comical expression of shocked horror.

“You did what?”

Shit. “Ah. Not what you were mad about?” Rook winced as Viago shot her a withering look.

“It was not. It is now. I was referring to your wordless departure last night, but now we have something new to discuss.” Rook sank into her chair glumly as he launched into an expletive-filled tirade about staying out of his affairs, slipping back and forth between the trade tongue and Antivan as he raged.

Rook tried to pay attention, and opened her mouth several times to try and soothe him, only to be yelled over as Viago went red in the cheeks with anger. “…And even if it were true, which it is not, what may work for you is another matter entirely for my-” Viago was interrupted by the door to his office swinging open, Teia and Lucanis appearing in the doorway.

—

Lucanis’ conversation with Teia had gone exceptionally well. She was initially apprehensive about Spite, which was to be expected. But Teia cared for Lucanis, and her initial concerns quickly melted into righteous fury at what the Venatori had done to him, and she promised him her full support. “Well, it hasn’t impacted your work so far. And if Rook doesn’t see a problem with it, neither do I. We will figure this out together, Lucanis.”

Her words had touched him, and he’d eagerly promised that he would repay her somehow. When he filled her in on the plan to speak with Viago next, she grew serious. “Lucanis, Rook is right on this account. That will be… a harder sell.” Lucanis shrugged.

“It isn’t Rook’s fault. She needed my cooperation, and keeping this secret for me was how she guaranteed it. It was a smart move.” He tried to reason with Teia as they headed to Viago’s office, and she grimaced.

“We will try to frame it that way, yes.” Teia looked like she wanted to say more, but as they descended the stairs, the distinct sound of Viago’s voice raised in anger caught their attention. They exchanged a look, before rushing down the hallway to his office.

When they opened the door, Rook was seated across from Viago, and he appeared to be in the midst of an animated lecture. Rook had a resigned look to her, and her slumped posture indicated this had been going on for some time. Viago glared at them. “What? I am in the middle of something.” Viago gestured vaguely at Rook as he spoke.

Rook sulked in response. “You're not 'in the middle of something.' You're just yelling at me.” She lowered her voice in an uncanny impression of Viago as she repeated his words, and he rounded on her once more.

“Yes! That is the thing I am in the middle of!” He seethed as Rook crossed her arms, fixing her gaze on the floor. 

“Vi, would you give it a rest. I’m sure whatever it is can wait.” Teia moved to stand by Rook, placing a soothing hand at her back.

“You would say that.” Viago grumbled, but seemed to calm slightly. He took his seat across the desk. “Well? You’ve clearly come with news of some sort.”

“Yes.” Teia started slowly, her eyes flicking to Lucanis. “There is a… development that Lucanis wanted to make us both aware of.” Viago’s attention settled on Lucanis, and he suddenly felt less sure of this plan. It was too late to back out now though, and this was necessary to maintain his relationship with Rook in the way he wanted to, the way she deserved. That thought bolstered him, and he held Viago’s icy gaze.

“Well, as I told Teia… it is easier to show you.” When the words left his mouth, Spite responded to his cue gleefully. The demon fit in well with Antivans, given the way he liked to show off. Spite’s wings materialized, springing forth with a rush of power that made Lucanis' teeth vibrate. Viago froze, staring at him wordlessly for a long moment.

“What is that?” He finally gritted out, his guard all the way up. Teia had picked up on the situation much faster, and had fired off the usual questions regarding his status as a non-mage, his free will, and how it had happened. Lucanis had assumed that Viago would immediately understand as well, but he was apparently not so well-versed in demons.

“Um, it is Spite. A demon. I… acquired him in the Ossuary.” Lucanis glanced down at Rook as he spoke, and immediately knew it was a mistake. Viago followed his gaze, sharp as a hawk, to where Rook sat examining her boots.

“You knew this.” It wasn’t a question, and Viago’s jaw twitched as he stared down at Rook. To her credit, she didn’t back down, only met his hard stare and nodded once. The tension was unbearably heavy as Viago processed this turn of events. When he next spoke, his voice had grown dangerously calm. “Leave us.” His eyes never left Rook as he ordered them to go.

“Vi, listen for a moment-” Teia started, but Lucanis rushed to speak, cutting her off with his own explanation.

“This isn’t Rook's fault, she needed me to work with her and I-” Viago raised a hand as he made his way around the desk.

“I said, leave us.” As Viago grabbed Rook's arm, Lucanis reached for her instinctively. He didn’t truly believe Viago would hurt her, but the reaction was natural, a reflex in response to a perceived threat. Viago snapped with a sudden fury, yanking Rook out of her chair and away from Lucanis. “Don’t you touch her.” He snarled, and Rook’s eyes went wide with panic.

“Viago, don’t, he isn’t-” He gave Rook a sharp tug as she spoke, and she flinched as he interrupted her.

“Isn’t what? Dangerous?” Viago gestured back at Lucanis as he spoke. “Don't you give me that. He is an abomination, and even if he were not, he is a Crow. He is dangerous, Rook. But that’s hardly the issue here.” Viago’s eyes had gone from ice to fire, burning with a level of anger that Lucanis hadn’t anticipated.

“You didn’t think to inform me of this? You tell me everything, always! When did I give you permission to start making calls like this on your own?” Viago’s voice had risen again to a shout as he volleyed rhetorical questions at Rook. Teia stepped forward to try and diffuse the situation, but Rook’s usually endless patience had snapped. 

“When did you give me permission?” Rook wrenched her arm out of Viago's grasp, matching his fire with a burning rage of her own. “Maybe it was when you told me to think, to use my head. Or when you told me I had to start fighting my own battles. Or, maybe it was when you told me to finish the job, no matter what. Or, maybe, it was when you sent me away with a stranger to kill a god!”

The resemblance between the two of them was startling in that moment. Lucanis was reminded of when he’d first met Rook in the Ossuary, and how her mannerisms in battle seemed so reminiscent of Viago. In moments of anger, his influence shone in her as if she were his own flesh and blood. Viago sneered at her, undeterred by her answering fury.

“You pick and choose what you listen to, as always! If you had been thinking, you would have thought to tell me this! And you know what? Sending you away was good for you. You would have gotten yourself killed in one of your ridiculous stunts-” Rook flushed as Viago spoke. Lucanis had never seen her so incensed, not even with the First Warden at Weisshaupt.

“Keeping me from getting myself killed? That’s your excuse? You didn’t even know Varric, you could have been sending me off with anybody!” Teia sharpened at Rook’s words, a desperate air to her as she tried again to separate them.

“Rook, Vi, let’s just-” Teia’s words were lost to Viago’s response, his rage had reached it’s peak.

“Oh, please. Of course I knew Varric! I didn't tell you that because you needed to learn a lesson! And he and Harding were supposed to keep an eye on you! If I didn’t care what happened to you, I would have left you where I found you back in Ventus!” 

Teia gasped as Viago’s words hung in the air, and Rook stared at him in stunned silence. Viago sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he closed his eyes. “Rook, I didn't-” Rook didn’t give him the chance to finish, and her voice shaking as she spoke. Her anger had dissipated completely, a terrible, gut-wrenching sadness taking its place.

“You lied to me?” She turned to Teia then, tearful and disbelieving. “You knew about this? And…” Lucanis’ stomach twisted, she looked heartbroken as she choked out her next words. “Harding knew? This whole time?” Teia looked like she might cry as well, her eyes flickering between Rook and Viago as she stepped forward, arms outstretched as if she meant to embrace her.

Rook recoiled from Teia, moving for the door. Viago tried to follow, suddenly and unexpectedly repentant. “Rook, just hang on a minute, let me-” Rook spun around to face him again, and he paused his advance. 

“Maybe you should have left me in Ventus, if your plan was to spend my entire life holding it over my head.” The words were angry, but her tone was laden with a rawness that betrayed a deep sense of betrayal, and Viago grimaced as she fled the room. 

Chapter Text

Lucanis’ first instinct was to chase after Rook, to pull her into his arms and soothe the hurt. But as he moved to follow her, Teia grabbed his arm, holding him in place. “Wait, Lucanis, please. Just, wait.” Her tone was pleading, and he hesitated, even as Spite rioted against him. Viago sank into his chair, running a hand through his hair. He looked exhausted, and Lucanis watched him carefully as Teia moved to his side, placing a hand at his shoulder.

“Vi, you shouldn't have said that.” Teia stated the obvious, but her voice was gentle, and Viago reached up to place his hand over hers.

“No, I should not have.” He sighed, glancing at Lucanis for the first time since the argument had begun. “Lucanis… I don't care that you’re an abomination. It doesn’t matter, it changes nothing.” He seemed genuine, but his brows creased in a thoughtful frown.

“There is more to this, though. Why did she keep it a secret from me? You won’t convince me it was strategic, that’s not how Rook thinks when it comes to people. It never has been.” There was a note of bitterness as he spoke, an acknowledgement that Rook wasn't a cold and calculating Crow. She wasn’t like him, and he couldn’t make her be, even if it would be for her own good. Lucanis hesitated, but only for a moment.

“Because I love her.” The words came easier than he thought they would, and even Viago’s sharp look couldn’t stop them now. “And she loves me. I think. No, I know she does.” He sighed as he remembered her earnest confession, he wouldn’t disgrace her by implying she'd been anything less than clear about her feelings. “That’s why she kept it a secret. And it is why I’m telling you now.” Lucanis studied Viago, who had gone rather pale and quiet. “After the funeral… I'm not willing to hide how I feel about her. I love her.” He repeated his assertion, and Viago closed his eyes, as though he shut out Lucanis' confession by simply refusing to acknowledge it.

“You… will bring her nothing but trouble.” A harsh assessment, but Viago had taken on an air of defeat even as he said it. “And she won't care. Not one bit.” Teia squeezed his hand, looking at him affectionately.

“Viago, Rook is not a child anymore. You’ve said it yourself. You'll only hurt her if you keep trying to treat her like one. Besides, where do you think she learned to love troublesome men?” Viago snorted, casting a reproachful look at her.

“Easier said than done. She is still reckless.” He caught Lucanis’ gaze again. “I instructed Varric and Harding not to reveal our prior acquaintance under any circumstances. I told them it was for her own good, and... heavily implied it was for her safety. This is not Harding’s fault.” Lucanis glanced at the door, his heart sinking.

“I… don’t know if Rook will see it that way.” This would feel like a betrayal, no matter how she looked at it. Rook adored Harding, she was her best friend. He needed to get back to the lighthouse to do some damage control. As if sensing his intentions, Viago straightened in his chair.

“Go. I will send word to you. I’m expecting a report from some of my people in the field any day now. Rook asked me to look into potential Venatori activity, and I may have something soon. For now, I’ll give her some time to cool off. We’ll fix this, somehow. We always do.” It was a clear dismissal, and Lucanis needed no further instruction.

He rushed out, heading straight for the eluvian. This hurdle was over, but Rook hadn’t come out of it unscathed. Harding’s perceived betrayal would be weighing heavily on her, as would Viago’s apparent cruelty. He wasn’t sure what to expect, only that he needed to hurry.

—

Rook felt like she couldn't breathe. She’d found her way to the eluvian on sheer muscle memory as she bolted through the Diamond, practically blind with tears. As she crashed into the Crossroads, she froze, unsure what to do next. She didn't want to go back to the lighthouse, where the team would be waiting. Harding would be waiting. Varric's deception, for some reason, hurt less.

She could see Varric keeping something like this from her, especially prior to Solas' ritual. And after? He was hurt, preoccupied, it probably slipped his mind. But Harding? The betrayal of her hidden knowledge blossomed as a physical ache in her chest, and she sank to the floor beside the eluvian, trying to breathe through the tears. 

Rook brought Harding with her on the return to Treviso. She'd trusted her with things she’d never told any of the others, leaned on her in moments of weakness. And Harding had known Viago and Teia the whole time, she had lied about it. She pretended to be a stranger to the Talons when they rescued Lucanis, all three of them had pretended.

And for what, just to hurt her? Rook spent a miserable year thinking Viago thought so little of her, that he’d sent her off with a pair of strangers. And then, she’d convinced herself it wasn’t because he didn't care, it was because he trusted her, he believed in her capabilities. Thoughts and memories trampled over each other in her mind as she sifted through conversations and moments shared, reanalyzing all of it.

Then, Viago had brought up Ventus, he just couldn't help the twisting of the knife. She almost wanted to vomit, it was the confirmation of every deeply held fear and insecurity thrown back in her face. That he regretted bringing her back with him, that she was more trouble than she was worth, a poor investment. It was always unspoken between them.

Rook assumed his expectations and worked desperately to exceed them without losing herself in the process. And she maintained the fragile hope that she was more than a tool he had purchased, that the love was mutual between them. In moments when he'd been there to rescue her, to comfort her, expressed affection in his own awkward ways. It all tasted bitter now.

She wasn’t sure how long she sat there, immobilized by shame and sadness, held hostage by memories that were forever tainted by all of this new information. By the time Lucanis stepped through the eluvian, she was long past crying, seated on the ground with her arms wrapped around her knees. She’d completely forgotten him in all of the arguing, and was momentarily confused when he appeared.

—

Lucanis had intended to make a mad dash for the Caretaker’s boat to see if he could catch up to Rook, or at least get to the lighthouse before any looming altercation got too far. As he rushed through the eluvian though, he caught something out of place in his peripheral vision, and turned to see Rook sitting on the ground. They stared at each other for a moment, each equally surprised to see the other.

“You’re still here.” Lucanis breathed, relief flooding him even as Spite's tension increased. She’d clearly been crying, and she looked quite small, curled around herself the way she was. Looks WRONG. Spite was an agitated dog, locked on to something Lucanis himself couldn't quite grasp. As he moved to kneel in front of her, she continued to stare blankly at him.

“I forgot about you.” She finally spoke, and Lucanis might have smiled under normal circumstances, had she not looked so miserable.

“I don't blame you.” He reached for her carefully, prepared for her to pull away, but she remained perfectly still as he tucked her hair behind her ears and examined her tear streaked cheeks.

Rook. Is HURT. Spite chose that moment to reveal himself, crouching behind Rook as he examined her, as if he could see the ‘hurt’ by staring hard enough. Find it. FIX it. The demon glared at Lucanis, as though this could be stitched like her torn flesh after the dragon attack. Lucanis shook his head at Spite, now was not the time to try and explain the intricacies of emotional damage to a demon.

“Spite is worrying about you.” Lucanis shifted to sit beside her as he spoke, placing one arm over her shoulders. She leaned into him, quiet and otherwise unresponsive. “As am I.” He gave her a light squeeze as he searched for the right words, the best way to approach this. It was a lot to unpack, and still very fresh. “We… should discuss everything. Before heading back to the lighthouse.”

“I don't want to go back.” Rook responded quickly, her arms tightening around her knees. Lucanis sighed, she could be awfully stubborn when it suited her.

“Well, you cannot stay here.” He nodded around at the barren landscape of the Crossroads, dotted with eluvians and Fade wreckage.

“The Caretaker stays here.” She shot back, an argument lacking in logic, disagreement for the mere sake of it. She really was similar to Viago, an observation he decided would be wiser to keep to himself for the moment.

“The Caretaker is a spirit. You are a person.” He presented the facts to her patiently, rubbing her arm in a gesture that he hoped would soothe her.

“Am I?” The response was quiet, almost more to herself than to Lucanis. He frowned, looking down at her quizzically. 

“Last I checked, yes.” He spoke slowly, unsure what she’d meant by that. Rook remained silent, her eyes cast downward. She'd grown distant. It was like she’d slipped someplace he couldn't reach, and it unsettled him immensely. Spite's over-zealous examination of her didn't help to ease that anxiety, and Lucanis almost wondered if the demon really could see some secret wound that was otherwise invisible to him. “Rook?” He prodded at her gently, and it broke whatever trance she’d entered. She peered up at him, looking tired.

He couldn’t bring her back to the lighthouse like this, it was asking for trouble. He needed to talk to her and have some sort of plan in place. “Look, Harding wasn't trying to keep things from you. Viago made her think it was a matter of your safety, I talked with him and Teia after you left.” Rook’s reaction was minimal, his words not penetrating whatever wall she'd put up.

“Unless he’s lying. And even if he isn’t,” Rook regained the barest hint of her usual fire. “I never would have kept something like that from her. I never…” The flame was out again in an instant, doused again by her hollow grief. She felt everything so deeply, and Lucanis wondered how many times her heart could bleed before it hardened. He didn't want that for her, and he hesitated in the face of her distress, considering his next words carefully.

“You trusted Harding. You feel like that trust was misplaced.” He spoke slowly, leaving room for her to interrupt in case he got something wrong. “But, Harding has never given you another reason not to trust her. And, if Viago is to be believed, the only thing that would convince her to lie to you was the belief that it was for your own well-being. If you were in her place, if it were her safety… Would you lie?” His gamble paid off, and Rook stirred, shifting uncomfortably under his arm as she contemplated the scenario he presented. 

“…Maybe.” She murmured, doubt crossing her features. Lucanis pressed on.

“So, maybe, we ought to hear Harding’s side of things before coming to any conclusions.” He waited as Rook mulled this over and chewed on her lower lip, a nervous habit of hers. She nodded slowly.

“Okay. You talk to her. I’ll wait.” Lucanis balked at her words. An acceptance, but with conditions he hadn't anticipated, entirely typical of Rook.

“What? Why would I talk to her? This is between the two of you. And, you cannot wait here. I won’t leave you.” He countered her and she tensed, digging her heels in.

“I want you to do it. You clearly have a less biased opinion. Besides, you can’t make me go.” She lifted her chin defiantly as she spoke, daring him to challenge her.

Usually, Lucanis might have relented. But he was not about to leave her sitting there in the Crossroads, there was no way. “Fine, I will speak to her. But, you are coming back to the lighthouse,” Lucanis should have stopped there, and she might have agreed. If somebody were to ask him, he would say it was Spite’s influence that prompted him to continue. “I absolutely can make you.”

Chapter Text

Lucanis’ words snapped Rook out of her hazy gloom, and she rounded on him furiously. “What? No, you can not make me go. Is that what you think?” She might have been coaxed to follow him before, but now her mind was made up. “I’m waiting here.”  She shrugged his arm off of her, turning pointedly away from him. She felt a rush of triumph as he sighed, shifting to stand.

The triumph was immediately replaced by alarm as he leaned down to grab her, tugging her upwards by the arms. She flushed, anger and indignation mingling at the nerve of him. She fought back immediately, struggling against him as he tried to gain a steady grip on her. He huffed as she tugged against him, he was trying to wrap his arm around her torso. “Rook, you are being childish. I will drag you back if I-” She yelped as he hauled her feet off the ground, and she kicked backward at him. “-If I have to. Mierda, stop kicking me."

“Stop trying to kidnap me!” She clawed at his arms uselessly, his armor was too thick. He grunted with effort as he began walking, trying to hoist her up further into his arms as she raged.

“I am not kidnapping you, I’m taking you home.” He had one arm around her chest, securing her against him, the other wrapped around her waist, grabbing for purchase at her thigh as she kicked and thrashed. She tried to jam an elbow back into his stomach, but couldn't get the force she needed, pinned as she was. She tried lurching forward next, and that worked, tipping him off balance with the unexpected momentum.

They both tumbled over, and Rook tried to scramble out from under him as he landed on top of her, but he was just as determined as she was by that point. He grabbed at her legs, yanking her back as he attempted to subdue her. Hand to hand combat was never Rook’s strong suit, and she didn’t actually want to hurt him. She brought her knee up into his ribs, hoping to knock the wind out of him, but he caught it in his palm, anticipating the move well in advance.

“Rook, enough.” He gritted out, but not even the purple glint in his eyes could slow her efforts. If she didn’t want to hurt him, she was sure the sentiment went both ways. If she could outlast him, he would give up, surely. He was tugging on her armor, and she realized he was attempting to flip her onto her stomach. She’d have much less traction to resist him with if he managed it.

She shoved against his shoulders, swearing softly when he didn’t give an inch, instead bearing down on her and grabbing for her wrists. “You… are not… my first unwilling… traveling companion.” Lucanis was panting slightly as he spoke, grappling with her expertly. Rook didn't respond, she was too focused on trying to regain the upper hand.

Lucanis managed to get her wrists trapped in one gloved fist with a surprising show of force, and she realized with a start that Spite was helping him. “You’re using Spite? That's cheating!” She gasped as she squirmed, he was pinning her with his full weight, and he was much heavier than he looked. His breath was suddenly hot against her cheek as he spoke.

“I don’t remember agreeing to any rules.” He punctuated this by dragging his tongue up the side of her neck, temporarily halting her movements as she froze in shock. The intimacy of their current position dawned on her as her body reacted, and her cheeks went hot as she realized Lucanis was enjoying himself.

Rook didn’t have time to process the unexpected shift in tone before his tongue was against her again, and he nibbled at the sensitive skin of her exposed throat as he pressed his knee between her legs. She had the presence of mind to be embarrassed by the responsive whimper it drew from her, and he took advantage of her distraction. He flipped her onto her stomach, successfully pinning her in place.

Rook felt his breath on her again as he dipped his head to growl against her ear. “We're going back. One way or another. You can be a good girl, or…” Lucanis spoke in tandem with Spite, punctuating his words with a purposeful flex of his fingers against her wrist before reaching down between them with his free hand to squeeze the curve of her backside.

It was overwhelming. Embarrassment, desire, defiance, and a flicker of curiosity warred for dominance inside of her. She said nothing, but ceased her struggling, relaxing beneath him. He didn’t release her right away, nuzzling into her hair as he pressed a kiss just behind her ear. “Good.” The praise sent another jolt of arousal and stubborn opposition through her. He removed his hand from her ass as he shifted on top of her, relaxing his hold on her wrists.

She took the opportunity as soon as it was presented, rolling on to her back as she tried to push him off in a single strong shove. He grunted at the impact, but he must have suspected her plan to some degree, and he was ready for her. He caged her against the ground, his chest pressing into hers as he gripped her jaw in one hand. He held her still as he pressed a bruising kiss to her mouth, nipping lightly at her bottom lip. Rook was breathing hard with the effort of the fight, or so she told herself. She couldn’t help the suspiciously erotic noises he was pulling from her as he pushed his tongue into her mouth. 

Rook’s head swam, suddenly feeling just as trapped by her armor as she was by Lucanis. How is he doing this? The thought crossed her mind even as he pulled away, clearly as ruffled as she was. “That wasn't very nice.” He rasped as she panted underneath him. “We’ll have to address it later. At the lighthouse.” His words were pointed, and he grabbed her around the ribs, lifting her over his shoulder while he stood up in one fluid motion. 

She yelped as the world tilted, and Lucanis secured her firmly in place with one hand on her back and the other around her thighs. He walked with her at a brisk pace through the spirit market. They must have been quite a sight, but luckily, the spirits seemed as uninterested as usual, and the market was free of any mortal visitors. 

Rook still squirmed against him through the market, picking up her efforts in force when they were out of the plaza, the dock in sight. She could not let Lucanis think she would give up the fight, or that this was a method of subduing her he could rely on. The idea that they could make a habit of this was simultaneously thrilling and mortifying. 

Lucanis tightened his grip on her thighs, but removed his hand from her back. Rook didn't have the time to celebrate or take advantage, squealing as his hand returned with a shockingly hard slap to her rear. “Stop wiggling.” He issued the gruff command as she grabbed his back in surprise, straining to turn and look at him.

“You spanked me.” Rook was incredulous, she’d never been spanked in her life. The surprise of it had stalled her escape attempts, and while she couldn’t see his face, she got the strong impression that Lucanis was grinning.

“And I’ll do it again, if you don’t behave.” For reasons she didn’t fully understand, Rook wanted very badly to push that boundary. She gave an almost experimental wiggle, and Lucanis kept his promise, delivering another sharp strike. She felt a responsive warmth between her legs, and dropped her forehead against his back in embarrassment as she fought the desire to squeeze her legs together.

She took in another sharp intake of breath as the world tilted again, and Lucanis dumped her unceremoniously into the Caretaker’s boat, clambering in after her. Rook was unsure what the Caretaker thought, or if he thought anything about it, but she did believe he pushed off from the dock unusually fast. Lucanis had an air of victory about him as they drifted through the Fade, back towards the lighthouse.

“I told you I could make you.” He gazed at her smugly, and she crossed her arms as she looked away, all too aware she was still blushing.

“Well, I didn't want to hurt you.” She glared at him once more. “And we're not at the lighthouse yet.” Lucanis scooted closer to her, his eyes bright and hungry.

“Oh? Would you like me to repeat that little performance all the way through the library, for everyone to see?” She blanched at that, and Lucanis laughed as he tugged her closer. She fidgeted under his touch as he rested one hand atop her thigh, his lips brushing against her cheek as he wrapped the other arm around her waist.

When the Caretaker docked, Rook didn’t fight Lucanis as he tugged her up and out of the boat, resigned to her fate. “You’ll still talk to Harding?” She asked Lucanis glumly as he led her by the hand to the eluvian.

“Yes, mi amor.” He promised, giving her a little squeeze as he did. "Now, quit sulking." When they stepped through the eluvian into the lighthouse, a wisp was waiting for them. Or, more specifically, for Rook. Wisps occasionally sought her out, leading her to new areas of the lighthouse as they mysteriously appeared.

“Hello, wisp.” She greeted the little spirit, something Emmrich had instructed her she should do. The wisp gave a tinkling chirp in response, before it began lazily drifting away, and Rook moved to follow. Lucanis walked with her, splitting off when they reached the library. He was heading straight to Harding’s greenhouse, she guessed. She followed the wisp dutifully into the storage room that had manifested not too long ago.

The wisp chirped insistently, stopping before a new door she’d never seen. The spirit slotted itself in to the door’s receptacle, and it hummed to life with the resounding magic. Rook had no idea how it worked, and her eyes had glazed over when Emmrich and Bellara tried to explain. She was just glad that it didn't seem to hurt the wisps.

She entered the new door, her curiosity regarding what the lighthouse had in store outweighing the lingering weight of the morning’s argument. She’d be lying if she said her little impromptu ‘sparring’ session with Lucanis hadn’t also raised her spirits. She walked down a dimly lit corridor, and gasped in awe at the chamber awaiting her.

It was a bathhouse, of sorts. Not dissimilar to those back home in Salle, although the architecture was clearly more elven than Trevisan in design. This was a nice surprise, she would have to alert the others to their new amenity. No more ‘whore’s baths,’ as Taash called them, where one had to strip down and scrub with a little personal basin. And, this water was warm, Rook could see steam rising. She wondered for a moment if the lighthouse itself was trying to improve her mood. If it was, she was grateful, and it was working.

—

Lucanis didn’t bother knocking as he entered Harding’s greenhouse. She was crouched in the dirt, as per usual, tending a plant with dark red leaves. She glanced up at Lucanis’ entry, smiling warmly. Lucanis noted she looked a bit tired around the eyes, something to file away for later.

“Lucanis! How was the funeral? You doing okay?” She sat back on her heels as Lucanis made his way to sit in Rook’s chair, although everybody seemed to use it now. 

“Yes, it was… Well, better than expected. Only one attempt on my life. I would call that a win.” Harding rolled her eyes as he spoke, but she was still smiling.

“Ugh. That is such a Crow thing for you to say.”

Lucanis grinned at that, she wasn’t wrong. His smile faded quickly though, he wasn’t here for a light chat, after all. “Harding, I actually needed to talk to you. About a Crow thing, or, a Rook thing. Both, really.” Harding frowned, and got up to sit on her little bedroll.

“Okay, sure. Is Rook okay? Is she in any trouble?” Harding’s quick concern and her laser focus on Rook’s name had Lucanis feeling suddenly much worse about this whole situation. He wasn’t sure where to begin, so he started with the funeral. He filled Harding in on the events of the funeral, and she reacted with appropriate horror when he revealed the identity of his assailant, as well as what he’d said to Rook.

“I wish I’d been there. I’m not a Crow, I could've just taken him out right away!” Yes, YES! Spite nodded along enthusiastically with Harding’s words. 

“Yes, I had the same thought. It was ridiculous that I couldn't do more, especially considering our…” Lucanis hesitated a moment. His relationship with Rook was no secret amongst the team, but could he tell Harding the extent of it?

The doubt passed quickly. He’d already made the decision that he wouldn't hide it anymore, not from anyone. “I'm in with love her. I don’t want anything to get in the way of that." Harding’s hands flew to her mouth, a soft ‘oh’ escaping her as her cheeks went pink.

“Lucanis, that is so romantic! Rook must be so pleased. Oh, and Bel will just love this.” Harding gushed, and Lucanis felt a blush rising in his own cheeks at her enthusiasm.

“I, well, thank you. So… I told her I wanted to tell Viago and Teia. About everything. Me, her, Spite.” His eyes flickered to where the demon was crouched in the dirt, happily inhaling different herbs and flowers. Harding nodded, waiting patiently.

“It… went somewhat poorly. Viago was furious at Rook and… It got heated between them.” Lucanis wasn’t sure why he was dancing around this, and he sighed, shaking his head. “He told Rook that he knew you and Varric. Before he sent her to travel with you.” Harding had gone very still as he spoke, the color slowly draining from her face. Lucanis rushed to reassure her. “I know Viago told you it was to keep Rook safe.” Harding nodded.

“He said… and in his letters to Varric… He wanted her to be safe, he said if she knew we’d met before, it would compromise her position within the Crows. Whatever that means. It sounded bad.” Harding frowned as she spoke, worry creasing her brow. “Is she in some new danger? Now that she knows?”

Lucanis rubbed his eyes. It was just as he thought, Harding had no idea what Viago’s true intentions were. “No. It’s… that wasn't true at all, actually.” Hading stared at him, clearly confused. “He only did it to punish Rook. To try and… mature her, or harden her a bit. It was… unkind.” Lucanis finished awkwardly, watching as the realization settled over Harding.

“That asshole!” Harding balled her hands into fists, shaking her head. “I knew we didn’t ask for enough details! And then it was so weird when he and Teia were just pretending they didn't know me, and I had to play along! You know, I sold it pretty well though, I even asked Viago if he was Rook’s dad to throw him off.” Lucanis grimaced, perhaps it was a good thing that he had this chat with her first, Rook wouldn’t appreciate that just yet.

“Yes, well, that’s the problem. Rook was devastated. I think she feels like… You kept something so important from her. To her, especially to have it thrown in her face like that, it feels like a betrayal.” He was rambling a bit, his discomfort only intensifying as Harding’s face fell, realization of what was really going on finally hitting her. 

“Oh, no. That’s… that wasn’t it all. I wanted to tell her. Of course I wanted to.” Harding looked like she might cry, and Lucanis rushed to comfort her.

“Of course, I know that. I told Rook that, I was sure it was the case. But she wouldn’t come talk to you, she was too upset, so I decided to come by and…” Lucanis was still struggling with his words, and he sighed. He wasn't built for this sort of thing. “Harding, you have every right not to trust the Crows. This… it wasn’t fair to either of you. It may be hard to believe, Rook being how she is, but… I don't think Viago ever anticipated that you two would grow so close. That doesn’t excuse it, but it might explain it.” Harding nodded, sniffling and blinking rapidly.

“Oh, poor Rook. I can’t imagine how hurtful all of that must have been.” Lucanis nodded miserably.

“It was hard to watch.” He agreed, wincing at the memory of the way Rook had fled the room.

“That’s awful. Are you okay though, Lucanis? They took the whole… abomination thing alright?” Lucanis snorted at her question, eyeing her slyly.

“Better than you did.” She rolled her eyes at him.

“I didn’t know you. And now… I do.” Harding’s eyes were still sparkling with unshed tears, and she got up suddenly, rummaging around in her things. When she turned back to him, she had something in her hands. It took Lucanis a moment to realize it was her special arrow, the one she’d bought to threaten him with back when he joined the team. “I want you to have this, Lucanis. I trust you, I don’t need this. I never did. And…” Harding held the arrow out to him as she spoke, and he took it gingerly from her. “You’re my friend. I want you to know, I'm yours too.” 

Lucanis was temporarily lost for words, his heart hammering in his chest. He remembered when he’d first met Harding in the Ossuary, how jealous he was of her and Rook’s friendship. The first time he’d sat with her in this greenhouse, he wondered if they could ever learn to trust each other, or if he could manage to protect her for Rook’s sake. As he turned the arrow over in his hands, he realized that he wasn’t doing this for Rook. He’d grown to care for Harding all on his own.

He cleared his throat awkwardly as he met her eyes, feeling exposed and vulnerable. “Rook was right about you. You are the kind of person who makes friends with assassins instead of hiring them.” Harding laughed, warm and easy, and Lucanis smiled at her. “I won’t let you down, Harding. I swear it.”

Chapter Text

Rook waited anxiously for Lucanis to return from his chat with Harding. She’d taken a bath in the new bathhouse, and then ran around the entirety of the lighthouse to alert the others to their new addition. The exception being Harding’s greenhouse, of course.

The bathhouse came equipped with towels, and little changing screens. She found that bit funny, the idea of a group soak with the whole team nearly sending her into a fit of giggles. She’d explored thoroughly before heading back to her room to get changed and wait for Lucanis. She didn’t want to think about Harding, and the possibility that their friendship was forever tainted. Or, that it had never been a true friendship at all. That was even worse.

Lucanis’ arrival startled her, the sound of the door tearing her from her thoughts as she turned to look at him. He looked at her, sitting on the floor in front of the fish tank, and cocked his head to the side. “Are you watching the fish?” He asked, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards into a smile.

“Yes. They help me think.” Rook suddenly felt defensive, there was nothing wrong with watching the fish. 

“Spite does that, too.” He chuckled, making his way over to offer her a hand up. She accepted his hand, allowing him to pull her to her feet. He was still in his armor, and Rook fell into her routine of helping him as he got changed.

Lucanis was neat and tidy, he liked his things in specific spots, and handled them in specific ways. Rook was the exact opposite. She rarely folded things, much less put them back in places they belonged. As long as she knew where things were, she wasn’t picky about where she left them. That being said, Lucanis had more possessions than she did, and she assumed he would lose things more easily than her if he followed her method. So, she made an effort when disarming him to remember where he liked things placed.

As she helped him store things in all of their little designated spots, he relayed his conversation with Harding. She listened quietly, her anxiety uncoiling with every word. “I told her you’d go by to chat with her tomorrow. Does that seem reasonable?” Lucanis glanced down at her, and she nodded. Rook felt something odd in the pocket of his trousers, out of place. She frowned as she pulled out an arrow, turning it over in her hands. 

“Um, are you picking up archery?” She waved the arrow at him, and Lucanis blushed as he reached for it.

“Ah, no. Harding gave me that, a gift.” Rook cocked her head, it was a rather odd gift to give a man who didn’t shoot.

“Well, that’s weird. She gave me cheese once, I would’ve preferred an arrow. Can I have it?” She held it slightly out of his reach, teasing him as he grabbed at it.

“No, you may not. It is a symbolic arrow.” He took it delicately, as if it were fragile, and placed it on display, next to Varric’s shaving mirror that Rook liked to keep out. Lucanis asked about it once, and she’d simply told him it was a gift from Varric that she liked to look at sometimes. He’d left it at that, apparently not finding it too strange. Now, Harding’s arrow sat beside it.

“Is it symbolic of her promise to kill you? That’s the arrow she spent so much money on way back when we recruited you.” Rook observed, recognizing the shimmer of the enfeebling charm. Lucanis raised his eyebrows.

“I’m… surprised you remember that. Yes, it is that arrow. But now, it symbolizes our friendship.” Lucanis drew the word ‘friendship’ out, as if testing it out for the first time. Rook realized with a start that it actually might be the first time. 

“I remember everything.” Rook murmured absentmindedly in response to Lucanis as she gazed at the arrow, trying to determine if Harding had ever given her a symbol of their friendship. Other than cheese. Fucking Fereldans.

“Do you actually?” Lucanis asked her, and she blinked, meeting his gaze.

“Do I… Oh. No. Well, kind of. I remember a lot, most of the time.” Rook rambled a bit, embarrassed. It was one of her little quirks that made her a good operative, as well as a vibrant story teller.

“Give me an example.” He sat, watching her curiously, and she scowled.

“It’s not a party trick.” She sighed as she spoke, but Lucanis only shrugged.

“Why not?” He had a hint of mischief to him, and she fought down a smile.

“I just did give you an example.” She moved to sit with him, they had a few hours to kill before dinner, and no further errands for the day.

Lucanis inhaled deeply through his nose as she sat, and it reminded her a bit of Spite. “Did you have a bath? You smell good.” He murmured leaning in slightly to inhale again. Rook realized she hadn’t had the opportunity to tell him about the new room yet.

“Oh, yes! That’s what the wisp was showing me, isn't that great? Also, do I not usually smell good?” She pouted, and Lucanis laughed.

“You smell like lavender. Almost always. Now it’s just… more.” She hummed, reaching behind him to shuffle through her little tray of toiletries that she kept on the counter. 

“I don’t know about lavender. I don’t bother with the names of flowers. But, I do use purple soap, that’s what you smell.” Lucanis snorted at her explanation.

“You remember everything, but not the names of flowers?” She stuck her tongue out at him.

“I remember important things. Do you want to borrow my pretty soap, or not?” She waved the little bar at him. She liked how translucent it was, with little purple flower petals visible inside. She had no idea where Viago usually got it, but she’d loved it as a child, and it had remained her go-to for years. Lucanis reached for it, and she placed it delicately in his hand.

“Maybe.” Lucanis murmured, turning the soap over in his hands, smiling a bit. “You think it’s pretty? It’s just a bar of soap.” Rook gasped, snatching it back from him and replacing it on her tray. 

“That isn’t true! It has little petals in it. And I like the color.” Lucanis placed his hands up in a show of surrender before pulling her close.

“Rook... what else do you like? Other than cats, purple things, and honey.” Rook considered the question, that seemed like plenty to her.

“You?” She offered, and Lucanis let out a snort as he gave her a little squeeze. “Well, what do you like? Other than coffee, knives, wyverns, cooking, knitting, reading… you actually like a lot of things.” Rook frowned, and briefly wondered if she was too simple for Lucanis’ usual tastes.

“Bellara invited me to join her book club, I thought I might ask if you’d be interested as well.” He was leaning against the back of the lounge as he spoke, his cheek resting against his palm as he propped himself up on an elbow. Rook studied him intently, memorizing the way the blue light of the room made his features look darker, his handsome face cast in sharper contrast. 

“That would be nice.” She liked the idea of a book club, and briefly considered inviting Varric before deciding that might be too much to ask in his current condition.

“Good, then it’s settled. I’ll let Bellara know tonight at dinner. She’s trying her hand at Cacio e Pepe.” Rook brightened at that. While she wasn't a picky eater, she did have a preference for Antivan dishes.

“In the meantime…” Lucanis trailed off, his eyes dipping to her lips as he reached for the buttons of her shirt. She leaned in on instinct, kissing him as he eased her out of her clothes. When she reached for his shirt however, he caught her hands, parting from her with a suspiciously purple glint in his eyes. “We ought to address your poor behavior from earlier.” His voice was low and rough with wicked promise as he pressed her against the cushions.

Chapter Text

When Rook challenged him in the Crossroads, Lucanis expected her to give in once she saw he was serious. Instead, she fought back like a wild animal, and his base instincts kicked in. Lucanis was at his best in a close quarters fight, and had found himself engaged in hand-to-hand combat many times in the field. Rook, on the other hand, usually relied on speed and bursts of force to remain out of her enemy’s reach while dealing damage. Lucanis had the advantage of both skill and size.

He had no intentions of hurting her, however, and he was sure she knew that. A handicap they shared, as Rook was clearly not dealing blows that she might have in a true fight. This knowledge, combined with her ridiculous stubbornness, had Lucanis feeling less distressed and more amused as they wrestled.

When they tumbled to the ground together, he felt Spite stir, the demon’s rising interest rippling under his skin and leaving him with goosebumps. Spite didn’t say anything, but Lucanis could feel his excitement as he pressed forward, keen on this apparent fight that lacked any real violence. The proximity to Rook and the adrenaline of their situation quickly shifted to arousal, and he’d acted on that feeling without really thinking. And Rook responded. 

Now, Lucanis intended to keep his promise to pick up where they’d left off in the safety of their lighthouse chambers. Stripped down to nothing but her panties and tightly pinned underneath him, Rook’s eyes were bright with curiosity. 

“That's not fair, you tricked me.” She pouted as she tried to slip free of his grasp, but he kept her still, leaning down to kiss her jaw.

“Mhm, and you tricked me earlier today.” She turned her face to try and kiss him as he spoke, and he pulled out of her reach, clicking his tongue in faux disapproval.

“Then…” Rook strained against his grip as she spoke, “I’ll make it up to you now.” Her eyes flickered down to where he straddled her hips, trying to shift herself up against him. He tilted just out of her reach, and she huffed in frustration.

“Yes… But on my terms.” He murmured, leaning over her once more, and she shivered as he licked her. It was a deliberate repetition of his actions during their struggle in the Crossroads. He moved to her throat next, nipping delicately as she gasped. He glanced up at her, and her eyes went wide with realization as he grinned, flipping her onto her stomach, just as he'd done that afternoon.

“I wasn’t sure I could use that same trick twice.” Lucanis chuckled as she twisted and squirmed, and he leaned over her back, running his free hand along her spine as he did. “Now,” He purred in her ear, the smell of her hair intoxicating after her bath, “Earlier, I asked nicely if you would be a good girl.” Rook whimpered as he trailed his hand down, pulling at the ties of her underwear and tossing the fabric aside, before resting his palm along her bare ass. 

“Will you be good this time?” He placed his lips against her skin, and felt her nod. He kissed her neck, and she moaned as he slid his hand inward, gently grazing the moisture between her legs. He dipped his fingers inside of her, and she squirmed with need. “I don’t believe you.” He whispered, removing his hand as she gasped and tried to turn back to look at him. 

She whined, trying to squeeze her legs together, but he had her firmly secured with his knees. He undid his pants carefully, freeing his cock to stroke himself.

“You'll have to convince me.” He couldn't see her face from this angle, but he could imagine the flush of her cheeks as she stammered out a response.

“I… How?” She sounded desperate, and Lucanis had to take a steadying breath to quell his own impatience.

“Stay still.” He murmured, loosening his grip on her. She curled her fingers into the cushions, but kept her hands where he left them above her head. He ran his hands down her back, pausing to trace the jagged scar by her left shoulder blade. “Where is this one from?” He felt her breath catch, just for a moment.

“… A job. Caught a blade.” He nodded, despite the fact that she couldn’t see him, and leaned forward, pressing his lips to it. She tensed, but remained still.

He trailed his fingers down to the next one, an odd crescent shape, pale white against her skin. “This one?” She sighed, silent for a beat longer than she was for the first one.

“Boot. The house master in Ventus.” Lucanis paused, feeling the old wound under his fingers before repeating the process with his lips.

The next one was lower, a raised line arcing across the back of her ribs. He didn’t get a chance to ask. As his fingers grazed it, she simply said “Antaam.” He placed another kiss.

She’d remained obediently motionless for his entire exploration, and he placed his hands between her legs, stroking her inner thighs. “Remember, keep still.” He reminded her softly, before sliding one hand upward. She made a muffled sound as he touched her, trembling with the effort of keeping herself from squirming as he stretched her open with his fingers.

—

“All of your scars, I wish I could have prevented them.” Lucanis’ voice drifted up to her as she quivered, trying to follow his instructions even as he set her nerves on fire. She was glad to have her face pressed into the cushions, where he couldn’t see her shame. Evidence of past mistakes, forever etched into her skin. 

A job where she’d been distracted, her opponent managing to strike a blow while her back was turned. The blade was coated in poison, a possibility she should have been prepared for, yet wasn’t. She spent three days in a warehouse before Viago found her, feverish and sick from infection.

The boot of the house master in Ventus, she’d spilled an entire carafe of wine and he’d stomped on her furiously. Rook was a child, but even then, she’d known better than to slip up in front of the master. She didn’t remember the details of what followed, only that the other kitchen slaves had hidden her in a cupboard  for what felt like weeks while she recovered, bringing her water and stale bread crusts in secret.

And of course, her infamous brawl with the Antaam patrol, the daring rescue that put her in Varric’s path. That scar was one she wasn't ashamed of, she’d taken a blow for Varric as he fought alongside her. The adrenaline of the fight was intense, and she didn't even realize it had pierced her armor until after. Varric insisted that she'd saved his life, he called her a hero. It was the first time in her life she'd ever been praised for slipping up and being reckless.

She couldn't help the shudder that ran through her as Lucanis slid his fingers upwards, stroking the little bundle of nerves that caused her toes to curl with pleasure. His reverent touch combined with the juxtaposition of her burning shame over his examination of her scars had tears pricking her eyes, leaving her unsure how to feel. “Do you think they’re ugly?” 

The question tumbled forth before she could think better of it, and she felt him freeze. She suppressed a groan as he removed his fingers, but sighed at the warm weight of his body against her back. “Rook.” His voice was soft in her ear, the edge of command momentarily absent. “I don’t think any part of you is ugly.” He pressed his lips to her neck, peppering quick pecks all the way down to her shoulders. 

“I think you're strong. You survive... impossible things.” A hint of strain entered his voice again. “That doesn't mean I don't want to protect you.” Rook startled at the unexpected return of his fingers, grabbing at the fabric of the couch as she tried to keep herself from grinding down on his hand. “Even if I have to drag you kicking and screaming out of danger.”

The words were teasing, but there was a roughness to his tone, the familiar weight of a promise. His touch mirrored his words, light but insistent. She let out a cry as he ran his thumb directly over her clit, before disappearing once more. She heard the rustle of fabric, and burned with the effort of not turning back to look.

—

He positioned himself behind her, replacing his fingers with the head of his cock as he coated himself in her arousal. “Lucanis.” She whimpered his name, needy and fully exposed to him. He placed both hands at her hips, tugging her towards him as he angled himself at her entrance.

“You’ve been very good, mi amor.” He was nearly as desperate as she was, her submission stirring him just as much as her defiance. He reached underneath her, tracing slow circles around her clit as he eased himself inside of her. “You’re perfect.” He murmured, punctuating his words with a slow rock of his hips. “Even when you are stubborn and unreasonable.” Rook cried out as he pulled almost all the way out of her before burying his cock in her again, setting a quick, rough tempo.

He felt her walls clench around him as she writhed against the cushions, and he caught her wrists as she tried to yank them down. Spite’s desires seemed to fuse with his own, making it impossible to tell his actions from the demon’s as they both surged forward, a purple glow descending over Rook’s back when his wings manifested. “I… I can’t stay still… if you…” Rook pleaded with him between breathless moans.

He released her hands as he pulled out of her, rolling her on to her back before sheathing himself within her again. She reached for him, and he didn’t stop her this time, allowing her to wrap her arms around his neck. He kept his hands at her hips, simultaneously guiding her and holding her steady as he resumed his brutal pace.

Rook was tugging at him, trying to pull him closer as she tightened around him, her orgasm shuddering through her. The haze of pleasure and Spite’s heavy presence muddled his thoughts, and he didn’t even notice the way her nails were digging in to him. It was only when she called out to him, her voice shaky and uncertain, that his attention snapped back to her. “Lucanis, please let me… I want to hold you.” 

There was a brief rush of shame, the realization that he'd fallen into an old habit, holding her at arms length in the most literal sense. Lucanis rushed to gather her in his arms, kissing her as he re-focused his movements. He kept his thrusts deliberate and intentional as he felt his own release fast approaching, and he dropped his forehead against the cushions next to her with a groan. He focused on her hands in his hair and the sounds that escaped her lips, determined to make up for his momentary absence. She gave herself freely, and as much as he wanted to do the same, it didn't come as naturally to him.

He remained connected with her even as he went soft, trying to think of what to say. “I’m… sorry. I was-” Rook cut him off with a gentle shushing noise. 

“I imagine… Spite can be distracting.” He realized she was right, as she so often was. A similar thing had happened before, his intrusion both magnifying his pleasure while clouding his thoughts. “It doesn’t bother me.” His tension must have been obvious to her as she cradled him in her arms, speaking soothingly. 

“It bothers me.” He grumbled, and she sighed. He closed his eyes, allowing himself the luxury of her comfort.

“What does Spite have to say about it?” Rook's words were like kindling on a fire, Spite flaring up noisily in Lucanis' mind. Let ME talk to her. Like BEFORE.

“He doesn’t usually talk very much while we’re… Well, now he’s insisting on talking to you. He wants a turn.” He didn’t bother hiding his irritation.

“He did fine the last time. Why not let him?” Lucanis snorted at that, finally shifting out of her and rolling to lie beside her.

“He did ‘fine,’ up until he jumped you.” Rook laughed at that, lacing her fingers through his.

“You gave him permission, if I remember correctly.” Spite cackled, preening under Rook’s defense of his behavior. Rook LIKES me. You CANNOT stop her.

Lucanis grudgingly agreed, he couldn’t stop Rook from her ridiculous coddling of Spite, no matter how much her apparent lack of caution unnerved him. He closed his eyes, allowing the demon’s will to wash through him, releasing his tight grip on the reins of control.

Chapter Text

Lucanis’s arm snaked around Rook's waist, pulling her closer as he propped himself up on one elbow. She turned to face him, preparing for him to give her some new reasoning for not allowing Spite to speak with her, and was surprised to see the purple glow of the demon instead of Lucanis’ brown eyes. “Oh! He let you out, he didn’t say anything.” Spite ignored her, launching immediately into what he wanted to share.

“I want what Lucanis wants. But he is SCARED to take. I GIVE it. But I also WANT it.” Rook considered this, trying to think back on Emmrich’s teachings. 

“You want what he wants… feelings, you’re talking about feelings. But that can be complicated for people, less so for spirits.” She wasn’t really addressing Spite, more working through it out loud to herself. Spite used her momentary distraction to lean in, sniffing at her hair. Lucanis’ beard was ticklish as it brushed against her, and she squirmed in Spite’s iron grip. “That tickles, I’m trying to think.”

Spite stared at her, and his eyes seemed to burn brighter, if it was possible. “What is it?” Rook stared back at him, hesitating.

“Hard to explain. Can I touch you?” Spite was very still for a moment, as if he was listening to something. Then, he nodded, rigid and slow. “Lie back, and close your eyes.” She instructed softly, unsure if he would listen. Spite didn’t hesitate however, obedient as a dog.

“Okay, now… here.” She touched him as gently as she could, trailing her fingers down the fragile skin of Lucanis’ throat, across his chest, and then down his sides. Spite shivered, an odd thing she wasn't sure she’d ever seen him do. He opened his eyes, staring at her with an expression she couldn't read.

“It does not hurt.” Rook frowned, had he been under the impression it would?

“No, it isn’t supposed to.” She gazed down at him, and again felt a deep sympathy bubbling up. It dawned on her that Spite would have known nothing but pain in the Ossuary, trapped in Lucanis’ skin alongside him. Perhaps pleasure was a new thing entirely, a thought that stirred another new idea.

“When we’re…” Rook felt her cheeks burn, she didn't know why this was embarrassing. She knew Spite was present during intimacy, he'd even expressed his own clumsy desires repeatedly. “Do things feel different, when you’re here like this, as opposed to when Lucanis is in control?” Spite shook his head, then paused, nodding it instead. 

“It is more. I make Lucanis less. To HELP him. Part of our deal.” Spite reached for her and she allowed him to take hold of her wrist, guiding her fingers back to Lucanis’ flesh. “It is NOT fair. I want to touch.” Spite worked Lucanis' features into a deep scowl. “I only get PAIN.” The urgency with which he spoke tugged at her heart, and realization slotted into place as she dissected his cryptic speech. 

“When you have more control, you take some of the pain, like in battle. So, when Lucanis and I are… intimate, and you get some control, you do the same thing?” Spite sighed, and Rook reached for his face, stroking his cheeks.“That’s why he gets distracted or… feels different, when you join.” 

“We are locked IN. Rook opens doors.” Spite’s rasping tone almost passed for fondness, and she felt her breath catch. Was that what he meant, when he said he wanted out? Not out of Lucanis, but maybe something more figurative, something that would only make sense to a spirit. She would need to talk to Lucanis, and to Emmrich. But for now, she wanted to help Spite in a more immediate way. 

“Remember when we talked about permission… If Lucanis wants to stop, you have to let him. And if you want to stop, you tell me.” She gave Spite a reminder, hoping he would understand, and leaned in to kiss him. He was still on his back, and she carefully moved to hover over him. His breathing quickened as she pressed her lips to his, and he allowed her to take the lead. Spite didn’t close his eyes, a quirk that almost made her laugh.

She caressed his jaw, handling him as gently as she could. Spite had acted out passionately in the past, overeager and incapable of restraint. Now, Rook wanted to teach him the opposite, to show him he could have the touch he craved without the force. “Is this what you wanted?” Rook kept her voice quiet and gentle, and immediately followed her question with a kiss to each of his cheeks.

Spite stared up at her and nodded slowly. He blinked several times as the purple glow faded, leaving only Lucanis’ warm brown eyes in his wake. “That was... strange.” Lucanis murmured, back in control.

“Are you okay? Is Spite…?” Rook hesitated, letting her question hang unfinished between them. Lucanis hummed softly, reaching up to tuck errant strands of hair behind her ears. 

“I’m fine. So is Spite. He’s… quiet.” He sat up as he spoke, and began gathering their clothes. “I think you surprised him.” His eyes betrayed a hint of amusement, and Rook let herself relax.

“Well, that only seems fair, given the number of times he’s caught me off guard.”

Lucanis laughed at her, shaking his head. 

“You surprised me too,” His eyes softened as he spoke, “You always do.” Rook felt warmth flood her cheeks, her stomach suddenly alight with butterflies. She watched Lucanis as he dressed, observing the practiced movement of his fingers as he carefully fastened each button of his shirt.

Everything he owned was of the highest quality, fine Antivan silks and leathers, the best that money could buy. She observed the little crow motifs visible on his buttons, they matched his cufflinks and lapel pins. As she pulled her own plain shirt on, clumsily fastening the buttons and ignoring the ones that were missing, she wondered again if he found her simple, or too ordinary. She’d never grown accustomed to the wealth that so many Crows chased after. 

Viago himself was hardly a humble Talon, he had expensive and particular tastes. He’d spent a great deal of coin on her education as a child, and had kept her clothed and housed alongside him in fine accommodations, provided luxuries she never asked for. The nicest things she owned were all items that Viago had purchased for her, or gifts he had given her on holidays. Rook never spent her own coin on fabrics or fancy wine. The most she’d ever spent was on her leathers, which Lucanis had so carelessly destroyed after the dragon attacks. 

“I… I like your little crows. On your buttons.” She felt stupid almost immediately for saying it out loud as Lucanis paused to glance at her in obvious bewilderment. He peered down at his buttons, and then back at her. “I mean, I just think they’re cute.” She fidgeted as she babbled, embarrassed by her outburst. 

“I get them specially ordered.” He smiled warmly. If he noticed her nervousness, he didn’t say. “Illario thinks they’re silly, 'too on the nose.' But I like them.” He paused, considering her for a moment. “I’m surprised you like them. You’re so… utilitarian, with your things. I would have thought you’d find them frivolous.” Rook looked down at her lap. He had noticed her plainness.

“I don’t buy things I don’t need.” It was mostly the truth, if a bit evasive. Rook didn't take a salary, unlike most Crows, by her own choice. She’d never been able to shake the lingering guilt about everything Viago had done for her, and though he never asked, she wanted to pay him back for all of it. Payment for her contracts went to Viago, save whatever she needed for necessities. Besides, Viago still bought most of her things for her, and she’d still lived with him up until the night he sent her away. 

“What about your little purple soap?” Lucanis reached slyly for her toiletries tray as he spoke, and she slapped the back of his hand.

“I would count soap as a necessity. And Viago gets it for me.” She reasoned with him as they headed for the door together, dinner was likely almost ready. 

“So what do you do with your spare coin then?” Lucanis asked her casually, running the cheap cotton of her sleeve between his fingers. “If you don’t spend it on unnecessary fineries?” He had that familiar air of mischief to him, a teasing lilt to his voice. 

—

Rook was easy to poke fun at if you knew what to look for, Lucanis had learned. As they entered the dining hall, Davrin and Emmrich were already seated and enjoying their meals. Bellara had apparently taken dinner privately with Neve and Harding, and Taash had yet to arrive.

As he gathered plates for himself and Rook, he continued to press her. “What about food? Perhaps you secretly spend all of your money on fine dining, and that’s why you take such small portions at the lighthouse?” Rook snorted, rolling her eyes as she took her seat.

“I think the meals you and Bellara put together might actually count as fine dining, and they’re completely free.” She gestured meaningfully at the well executed Antivan cuisine in front of her. “Looks like Bel followed your instructions perfectly." Rook was correct, Lucanis was impressed with Bellara’s first attempt at Cacio e Pepe, though he did have some notes.

"Indeed, the meals prepared by you and Bellara are exquisite, Lucanis. They rival some of the finest dining experiences enjoyed by Nevarran nobility.” Emmrich joined their conversation, clearly not picking up on Rook’s embarrassment. “And I do so appreciate you catering to my dietary preferences.”

“Emmrich, do you make a great deal of coin doing your… necromancy?” Lucanis was genuinely curious, Emmrich was certainly no stranger to the finer things in life. His tastes aligned with Lucanis’ when it came to wine and apparel, and he seemed to have a fondness for jewelry. 

“Oh, to a degree, I suppose. I live comfortably, I won’t deny it.” Emmrich's gaze passed over Rook, where she perched in her chair, eyes trained on the dish in front of her. “Although, I didn’t grow up in wealth. I had to work for it, and some habits never do fully recede.”

“Coin was good when I was hunting monsters. But, I went flat broke before I figured that out. It definitely changes how you view money, when you never seem to have enough. But, even I have my indulgences.” Davrin leaned forward as he spoke, stealing a forkful of Rook’s meal. She glared at him, but otherwise didn’t protest. “Ma serannas, lethallan.” Davrin grinned at her.

“Ir mirthadra halani.” Rook grumbled back, and though Lucanis didn’t speak elvish, he recognized the sarcastic edge to her voice. Davrin chuckled in response, and Lucanis made a mental note to ask later what she'd said. They finished the rest of their meal in companionable silence, and Rook followed Emmrich out of the kitchen as he briefed her on some intelligence he'd received from the Grand Necropolis. 

Lucanis was left alone with Davrin, an arrangement he wouldn’t have chosen for himself. To his surprise, Davrin began gathering plates alongside him, following him quietly to the wash station. After several minutes of awkward silence, save the clinking of silverware and dishes, Davrin cleared his throat. “Lucanis. I’ve been wanting to... talk to you.” 

Lucanis sighed, he was hardly in the mood for this. “And here I thought you’d said all you needed to after Weisshaupt.” Davrin didn’t respond at first, and Lucanis thought that might be the end of it.

“I was out of line. I was just upset, after everything. And I took that out on you. Maybe I just figured you could take it, but that doesn’t… It doesn’t excuse it.” Lucanis paused, glancing over his shoulder to examine Davrin. He looked uncomfortable, shifting from foot to foot with his eyes cast downward. Lucanis looked back to the task at hand, focusing on not breaking any dishes as he washed them.

“Did Rook put you up to this?” He tried to keep his tone light and casual while he considered how he wanted to handle this. Davrin grunted, leaning against the stovetop.

“Of course she did.” Lucanis nodded, that didn’t surprise him. He tensed when he heard Davrin shifting again, he was rifling through his pockets for something. Lucanis didn’t think that Davrin would be bold enough to try shanking him in the kitchen, but a healthy degree of caution never hurt. He eyed him suspiciously as he produced something from his pocket and held it out stiffly. “But, this… I decided to give you this on my own.”

Lucanis stared blankly at his hand for a moment, before realizing he was meant to take the object. He reached for it gingerly, turning it over in his hands. It was a chunk of wood, more specifically, a little figurine. His breath caught as he examined it closer, and he realized it was a carved wyvern. "Where did you get something like this?” He couldn’t mask his fascination as he ran his fingers along the little details, it was exquisite.

“I made it. It’s a hobby of mine.” Davrin had puffed up, clearly proud of his work. Lucanis raised his eyebrows, unable to stifle his grin.

“And here I didn’t get you a thing. I had no idea you felt this way about me.” Lucanis stepped quickly out of reach as Davrin tried to snatch the figurine back, and slipped it into his own pocket. “I’ll treasure it forever, truly.” He couldn’t help the laughter that was bubbling up now, the ridiculousness of the situation hitting him full force as Davrin seethed.

“Damn it, you-ugh, I knew this was a mistake. You’re the worst.” Davrin was grumbling, and Lucanis could swear the man was blushing. 

“I really do like it.” He promised, feeling a bit bad for his reaction to what was clearly a well thought out gift. “Thank you,” He added, for good measure. Davrin waved a hand dismissively through the air, clearly ready to be done.

“Whatever. Let’s try not to kill each other, for Rook’s sake.” Davrin sighed as he turned on his heel, heading for the door. Once he was gone, Lucanis pulled the wooden wyvern out again, peering at the intricate features of the carved scales and teeth. He wondered how accurate it was, Davrin did hunt monsters, after all. Two gifts in one day. He smiled as he placed it carefully back in his pocket. He resolved to display it alongside Harding's arrow.

Chapter Text

Rook was nervous as she approached Harding’s greenhouse. Lucanis had reassured her repeatedly that it would be fine, that it wasn't what she thought. Still, restless energy plagued her all through the night, and for once, she’d been the one who lay awake while Lucanis slept. Now, standing outside Harding’s door in the early hours of the morning, she felt exhausted and unprepared.

She raised her hand to knock, and was startled when the door swung open, leaving her standing with her fist raised awkwardly. Harding looked up at her, surprise lining her pretty features. “Oh! Rook. I wasn't expecting you so... early.” Harding glanced back over her shoulder as she spoke, stepping carefully outside as she closed the door behind her.

“Um, yeah. Sorry, I didn't sleep well, and I just thought…” Rook trailed off, feeling like she'd intruded. Harding rushed to speak again, reaching for one of Rook's hands as she did.

“No, I mean, of course! I was going to go check out that new bathhouse. We can go together!” Harding tugged Rook along behind her, heading back towards the library.

“Ah, right. A vulnerable conversation about feelings. Much better to do that while wet and naked.” Rook mumbled, and Harding snorted out a laugh.

“Yes, my thoughts exactly. Or, that it could be a good place for privacy. Your version works too though.” Rook blushed furiously, but she couldn’t help the giggle that made it’s way up through her chest.

Rook and Harding stripped down to nothing once they’d entered the bathhouse. Modesty was hardly a concern between the two of them, they’d spent the better part of a year sharing quarters, and even the occasional bedroll. As they settled into the warm water, Harding sighed. “This is nice. I can't believe it took so long for the lighthouse to whip this up!” 

Harding’s hair was down, a rare look for her, and she dipped her head back into the water, working her fingers through her wavy red tresses. Rook mimicked her, dunking herself under the water and thoroughly rinsing her curls. “They have bathhouses like this in Antiva, although I’ve never gone.” Harding hummed, and they sat together, soaking in silence for several minutes.

Harding was the first to broach the awkward heaviness looming over them. “So… Lucanis told me what happened in Treviso. I… I’m so sorry, Rook.” Rook watched Harding out of the corner of her eye, remaining carefully silent. “I never wanted to hurt you. Just the opposite, I swear! I’m just… Ugh, it was so stupid, I never should have trusted Viago. No offense.” Rook snorted at that, Harding’s reservations about trusting Crows hadn’t offended her before, they certainly wouldn't now.

“I thought it was for the best. And then when we returned to Treviso, I figured Viago or Teia would say something, and when neither of them did, I don't know, I panicked!” Harding continued to babble, splashing water as she gestured wildly with her hands. Rook felt the icy wall of hurt begin to melt. “And, you know, after the ritual, and everything with Varric-” Harding’s voice broke on Varric’s name, and as she sniffed back tears, Rook felt the last reserves of betrayal and anger slip away.

Rook pulled Harding into a tight hug, her own eyes now wet with tears. “I know, I know. It was just such a shock, and…” Rook took a deep breath, squeezing the dwarf even tighter as she did. “You’re my best friend, Lace. I love you, and I just… For a moment, I was scared that none of it was real.” Harding pulled back, shaking her head as she gripped Rook’s hands under the water.

“Rook, you mean the world to me. I’ve never had a friend like you. I would do anything for you. Don’t you know that?” Harding was a little bit flushed, tears and the warm water of the bath painting her cheeks a shiny pink. She looked younger with her hair down, damp and sticking to her forehead, her freckles bright against her fair skin. Rook believed her completely, and shame coiled in her gut at how easily she'd allowed Viago’s words to sway her.

“I’m sorry. I never should have doubted you.” She murmured, staring down into the water at their joined hands. She couldn’t hold her gaze any longer.

“No, I should’ve gone to you sooner.” Harding soothed, her voice steadying once more. “No more secrets between us from now on.” Rook swallowed hard, nodding her head in agreement.

They both sighed, and Rook rested her head back agains the cool stone of the bathing pool. “On that note,” She risked another glance at Harding as she spoke, “You haven’t been sleeping. Why?” Harding turned her face away, crossing her arms defensively over her chest.

“What? I mean, of course I’m…” Harding sighed as she trailed off, she’d always been a terrible liar. It was part of why her deceit regarding Viago and Teia had been such a shock. “I… have dreams now. When I go to sleep, I mean.” Harding went quiet, and Rook sat up straight, confusion mingling with her concern.

“I thought dwarves couldn’t dream? Dreams come from the Fade.” Rook observed Harding curiously, as if she might be able to see some physical change that led to the sudden manifestation of these dreams.

“I assume it has something to do with my new powers, touching the dagger. It, uh… It’s unnerving?” Harding grinned sheepishly, clearly searching for reassurance. “It’s like my mind is telling a story to itself and is really bad at it.” 

Rook nodded, glancing down at her fingers, which were starting to get pruny in the water. “Sometimes, I have these dreams where I’m naked.” 

Harding stared at her, mouth slightly open. “What?”

Rook nodded, standing up to exit the bath as she continued. “And I have to make a speech, or go to battle, and I have no pants on! Ugh, it’s distressing.” 

Harding giggled, standing to follow her lead. “Um, yeah, that would be. I haven't had that… particular dream.” Harding grabbed a towel, and sat down to begin braiding her hair as Rook squeezed out her curls like a wet rag. “These days, I just dream I’m being chased… hunted. There’s something that glows red, just out of my sight. I know it’s going to get me, but… I don't know how I know.” Rook picked up on the distress in Harding's voice, and her own nightmares of being corralled by monstrous wolves swam in her memory.

“I get it, I have some... unsettling dreams too. Since the ritual, mostly.” Rook felt a nervousness in confiding this, something unseen tugging at her to be silent. She’d only mentioned the nightmares briefly to Lucanis, and she suddenly felt physically ill. Harding was focused on her hair, and hadn’t noticed Rook’s shift in demeanor.

“What do you do then?” Harding asked, and Rook swallowed the bile and blood rising in the back of her throat, taking a steadying breath. Try not to wake up screaming. An unhelpful thought, if an honest one.

“It’s a dream. Probably just… represents stress. You should try to do something relaxing before bed. Like this.” Rook gestured to the bath. Harding grinned at her, raising her eyebrows.

“Crying with you in the bath counts as relaxing?” Rook rolled her eyes, throwing a wet towel at Harding and missing entirely. 

“Come on, dork. I’m hungry.”

Rook and Harding were still giggling as they re-entered the library. Lucanis looked up at them from his seat, carefully bookmarking his novel before rising to join them. 

“I’ve already prepared breakfast, I assume you two are all made up?” Lucanis glanced between them curiously. “Did you two… bathe together?” He reached out to tug Hardings wet braids, and she swiped at his hand.

“What, you think you're the only one who gets to see Rook naked? We did each other's laundry for a year, Lucanis.” Harding teased as Lucanis’ cheeks went scarlet.

“I cannot believe you took a bath with Harding before me." Lucanis put a hand over his heart as he fell into step between the two women, an over exaggerated display of being deeply wounded. Rook shook her head, still working her fingers through her damp hair as they walked.

“Hey, speaking of repaired relationships, I couldn't help but notice you’ve acquired a new trinket?” Rook nudged Lucanis, eager to turn the attention back on him. He snorted, shaking his head.

“Ah, yes. A token of Davrin’s affections for me. Perhaps he and I will take a bath together next.” Harding gasped, and Rook nearly choked as they both dissolved into hysterical giggling at the mental image Lucanis had conjured.

“I-I'm so glad… you two are working things out." Harding gasped between peels of laughter. Lucanis grinned, tugging Rook closer with one arm around her waist, and draping the other over Harding’s shoulders as she giggled.

“We’ll see. For now, I’m happy enough with the two of you.” Rook leaned into him as he spoke, warmth blossoming in her chest at his words.

“In that case…” Rook started, and Lucanis groaned, releasing her and Harding as they reached the kitchen.

“What terrible thing are you about to ask of me?” He looked at her dubiously as she raised her hands.

“Nothing! Just…” She glanced at Harding, who was biting back a guilty smile. “Harding and I have to go check out an isolated dwarven outpost that… might be full of Blight. And mysterious stone magic. Do you wanna come?” Lucanis closed his eyes, pouring himself a mug of coffee.

“No, I do not. But yes, I will.” Rook beamed at him, thrilled that he'd agreed.

“That’s great! I’m sure it’ll be a straightforward scouting trip. Harding already has a contact for us to meet.”

—

It was not the straightforward scouting trip Rook had promised. Stalgard was a gruff dwarf who was apparently uninterested in serving as anything other than a guide. He sent them on an underground Blight-hunting escapade that left them exhausted and covered in grime, before finally leading them into a chamber where a giant stone statue started talking to Harding. That conversation was then interrupted by another hunk of living rock, which was more interested in smashing Harding than talking to her.

“Is that an angry rock?!” Lucanis spent the first half of the fight trying to find a mage who was controlling the thing, before it dawned on him that it might actually just be alive. His question went unanswered as Rook and Harding focused on not being crushed by the golem, and the ground rumbled beneath them as deepstalkers joined the fray.

“Focus on the angry rock!” Rook called out, dodging deepstalkers as she weaved between the golem’s legs. 

“Harding!” Lucanis couldn’t keep the exasperation from his voice as he yelled at her. “What did you do to piss off a rock?!”

“Why does everybody think this is my fault?!” She shrieked back at him, a barrage of arrows whizzing past him and striking the golem with surprising effectiveness.

The three of them stood panting as the creature fell, the deepstalkers scurrying off in the aftermath. “I’ve changed my mind.” Lucanis passed out potions as he spoke. “I do not want to be your friend anymore.” Harding shook her head at him as she turned back towards the stairway leading to the original talking stone statue.

“Too late for that now.” She called over her shoulder as Rook smiled at him, shrugging as she followed. The stone woman spoke in cryptic riddles, leaving Harding with more questions than answers before falling silent. Lucanis wasn’t sure he’d ever seen Harding so angry, and Rook stepped forward to soothe her rising temper. It was odd, out of character for the usually cheery dwarf.

“I could threaten her with a knife, but I don't think it would work.” Lucanis offered, and Harding smiled at him, though it didn't reach her eyes.

“No, it would not.” Stalgard agreed, turning to lead them out.

Chapter Text

Rook always kept busy, but Lucanis barely saw her over the course of several days as she ran herself ragged for the team. It started in the wetlands with Taash, and they both returned red eyed and tired from an apparently unsuccessful dragon hunt. Regardless of that, Taash seemed happier than Lucanis had ever seen them as they confidently announced their change in pronouns to the team. Rook squeezed their hand, looking on with damp-eyed pride, and Lucanis was again touched by how genuinely she cared for her team, her friends.

She went to Minrathous with Neve and Bellara next, and didn't return from that expedition until late into the night. Lucanis was initially alarmed at the amount of blood coating her when she dragged herself into the bedroom, until she explained it wasn't hers. The Venatori were running rampant in Dock Town, and they had apparently battled their way through a battalion of blood mages to rescue the leader of the Threads. 

Rook was quiet that night, her recap of events less embellished than he was used to. She put it down to being tired, but there was something unreadable in her eyes that left him feeling uneasy. He insisted on joining her the next morning as she geared up to return to Dock Town. He understood what was bothering her the moment they arrived, the Shadow Dragon base was nearly unrecognizable. Neve and Rook walked ahead of him in silence, picking through the wreckage without a word. 

They followed Neve as she led them through the ruined city, death and Venatori zealots around every corner. Minrathous was far from perfect even before the dragon attacks, but this was cruelty beyond comprehension. Lucanis could see it eating away at Rook, even as she tried to hide it. As they came upon a small tavern, Neve spoke quietly to them about a contact she was hoping to meet within.

They didn’t make it through the door before a burly man with a blade on his hip moved to block their path. “New rules. No knife-ears in the bar.” The man looked from Neve to stare pointedly at Rook, clearly pleased with this apparent change in policy. Lucanis felt his skin burn hot as the words sank in. What. IS it? Spite responded to Lucanis’ rage, not understanding the words that prompted it. “The elf stays outside. No exceptions, not even for Neve Gallus.” The man sneered Neve’s name, as if it was as much of a slur as knife-ear. 

Neve’s jaw twitched, she was fighting to keep her temper in check just as hard as Lucanis was. “Really, keeping elves out of a bar in Dock Town? How's that fare for business?” Neve’s hand was hovering over her mage knife as she spoke, and Rook shifted uncomfortably beside Lucanis.

“Neve, it’s fine. I can wait-” Rook spoke softly to Neve, but she turned on her heel, grabbing Rook by the elbow as she went. 

“We’re leaving. Plenty of bars in Dock Town that’ll serve all of us.” She snarled over her shoulder as she led them away. 

“What about your contact?” Rook asked breathlessly, half jogging to keep up with Neve and Lucanis. Neve just shook her head.

“My contact is an elf. If that’s the new management of the bar, I guarantee we won't find him there. Can’t imagine what’s happened to…” Neve stopped suddenly, and Lucanis caught Rook as she stumbled. “Rook, I’m so sorry. I would never… If I’d known-”

Rook placed a hand gently on Neve’s shoulder. “Neve, it’s fine. I’ve been called much worse, I promise.” Her voice was light, but Lucanis could see the strain in her eyes. “Let’s find that contact of yours. Where to next?” She smiled at Neve, giving her shoulder a squeeze, and Lucanis wanted desperately to leave and take Rook with him. 

He wanted to take her out of this city that sucked the life out of everything and trampled over anyone who tried to do it any good. Then DO it. Bring Rook HOME. But she wouldn’t go, not while Neve needed her, and he knew it. And he couldn’t simply drag her back through Dock Town, no matter how much Spite might have enjoyed it. All he could do was follow her lead and watch her back when the next group of Venatori came after them.

The day ended on a dour note. Neve got her information, but her contact was long dead, not even the latest victim in a string of cultist killings. Nobody who opposed the Venatori was safe, but the violence against the elves of Dock Town was especially gruesome.

Their corpses noticeably outnumbered the humans, and Rook cringed every time they passed one with their ears mutilated or just plain cut off. Lucanis hoped it was done after they died, but he knew it was unlikely. He found his gaze drifting to the delicate tips of Rook's ears, his stomach turning at the thought of what the Venatori would do if they ever managed to get their hands on her. We won't LET them. He agreed with Spite, at least on this matter. When they got back to the lighthouse, Neve thanked Rook for her help before apologizing profusely again, and Rook waved her off with a smile.

She was quiet as they stripped out of their armor, her usual post-mission chatter notably absent. Lucanis was lost in thought himself, replaying the scenes of Dock Town ravaged by Blight and Venatori cruelty. “You have to be careful going to Minrathous with Neve. Now more than ever.” He broke the silence, the memory of their encounter at the bar in combination with the elven corpses heightening his anxiety. He didn't want her going there at all, at this point.

“I’m always careful.” Rook’s voice betrayed her exhaustion, and he wasn’t sure if she was joking.

“Rook. I’m serious.” He pulled her gently around to face him, but she didn’t meet his eyes.

“So am I. It’s not my first day as an elf in Thedas, Lucanis. I can manage.” The softness of her tone smoothed the edge of her words, and somehow, that made it worse. “Besides, none of this would have gotten so bad if…” Rook didn't finish, she didn't need to. They both knew what she wanted to say, the burden that had been weighing on her since the night of the dragon attacks. 

There weren’t words to ease that pain, nothing Lucanis could offer to convince her she hadn’t caused this. He still had his own selfishness to contend with, guilty relief that she’d gone with him to Treviso. It wasn't his city that was overrun with Blight, and they still had a chance against the Antaam thanks to Rook. 

He felt foolish anger at Neve, briefly hating her for placing the burden of expectation on Rook, as though he hadn’t done the same thing. How could she ask Rook to save a city that had enslaved her, a city that would do so again? And when she chose her home, Neve held that choice over her head, binding her to Dock Town with her own guilt. NOT fair. Spite bristled and snarled like a wild dog.

Even as the anger came, it was went just as quickly. The hypocrisy of his feelings wasn't lost on him, nor was Spite’s influence, and he knew in his heart that Rook’s choices were hers to make. Lost for words to soothe her, he pulled her into his arms. He pressed her into his chest as though he might keep her safe there, even if only for a night.

“I have to go with Emmrich tomorrow. To find some rogue necromancer.” Rook’s voice was slightly muffled against his chest, but she made no move to pull away. Lucanis sighed, she didn’t have to ask.

“I’ll go with you.” He would follow her into hell if it meant she wasn’t going into it alone. That much, he was certain of.

Lucanis decided shortly after their arrival that Blackthorne Manor was, in fact, somewhat comparable to hell. Emmrich served as their cheery tour guide, urging them to follow the disembodied hand that he’d picked off of the Venatori back in the Grand Necropolis. Rook cracked several poor jokes at the title ‘hand of glory,’ none of which Emmrich understood. Lucanis would have chuckled at a few of them, if he weren’t so on edge.

The manor was creepy, an aura of malice permeated the very air around them. Lucanis wasn’t a mage, but his sensitivity to manipulations of the Fade was something he'd possessed long before Spite. His eyes itched in his skull, like a terrible allergy to the foul magic around them. It didn’t help matters that Spite was making an absolute racket with his endless chattering, a habit he indulged around Emmrich.

The demon liked nothing more than being heard and acknowledged, and Spite was thrilled with Emmrich’s ability to hear him at close-range. Make ROOK hear me. Spite was visible to Lucanis, trailing at Emmrich’s heels like a lost puppy. Emmrich smiled ruefully, shaking his head. “I fear that is beyond my abilities, Spite. Although, I can pass along a message.” Lucanis sighed, he knew what was coming, and he was powerless to stop it.

I want her to take her CLOTHES off. She’s been too BUSY. TELL her. Spite spoke eagerly as Lucanis rubbed at his eyes, too exhausted to be properly embarrassed. “Ah.” Emmrich looked pointedly ahead, granting Lucanis the small mercy of not meeting his eyes. “I believe that would be best discussed between you and Lucanis, rather than involving me.”

“This is completely unfair to me.” Rook whined, fiddling with her dagger as they walked through the eerie halls of the manor. “You’re all having a conversation, and I can’t hear a whole portion of it!” Lucanis rolled his eyes, this was a common complaint of Rook’s when out with Emmrich.

“That’s a good thing, Rook. Trust me.” Even as he spoke, Spite clamored to speak over him. NOT a good thing. Lucanis is WRONG.

“So! Rook, you and Lucanis both come from the Crows. Is that how you met?” Emmrich’s quick change in subject was a welcome distraction, as Spite swung around to listen to Rook’s answer.

“Yes, we both come from the Crows, but we didn’t cross paths prior to this job. I was never as famous as the Demon of Vyrantium.” Rook’s voice was dripping with sarcasm which Emmrich completely failed to pick up on, as she likely knew he would.

Lucanis groaned, he would scold her for that later. “Rook…” Before he could finish, Emmrich was speaking again, his excitement causing the pitch of his voice to shift upward.

“However did you come by that name before you met Spite?” Lucanis’ mood was worsening the longer this conversation went on.

“The Tevinter news sheets. But, I think Viago started it.” He shot a glare in Rook's direction, and she gave him a cheeky grin. The effect was intensified by Spite’s gleeful cackling. 

The conversation died down when they reached the Blackthorne library, where a door sealed with dark magic lay waiting. Emmrich rattled off numerous problems with the seal, and Lucanis was able to gather that it was bad. They followed him and his disembodied hand through the manor once more, until they came across a bound spirit. Spite tensed as they approached, his apprehension putting Lucanis equally on edge. Not good. Careful.

Just as Spite's warning registered, demons manifested around them. They zeroed in on Rook, as they always seemed to do. They want her. Spite hissed in Lucanis' head as they fought. She is OURS already. The fight wasn't easy, but they’d had worse, and the demons were dispatched with relative swiftness. Emmrich grunted, pain creasing his brow as he freed the spirit from it’s bindings. 

Rook placed a hand at his arm, sparing a concerned glance back towards Lucanis. “Emmrich, are you alright?”

Emmrich nodded, patting her hand with a strained smile. “Yes, my dear. These spirits… Someone has been harvesting their terror, their very souls. Come, I can sense another spirit trapped here in the mansion.”

“Fucking mages.” Lucanis muttered to himself, and Spite peered at him curiously. Rook hurried after Emmrich through the manor, and they repeated the process of fighting demons and unbinding the spirit, although it seemed to take a toll on Emmrich again. With the door in the library unsealed, they rushed back to confront the rogue necromancer.

Lucanis was convinced this was already the most unpleasant experience possible, but then they walked through a tear in the Veil, leading them straight into the Fade. “Mierda. Fucking mages.” You. Do not LIKE it. Spite observed as they lagged behind Rook and Emmrich, and Lucanis shook his head. “No, I do not like it.” Spite considered this, sticking close to Lucanis as they walked through the twisting, crumbling corridors of the Fade.

WHY? Spite pressed, and Lucanis realized Emmrich couldn't hear them if they hung back far enough. “It’s… I don’t know, wrong. People aren't supposed to be here. The Fade is for spirits, like you.” He waved dismally at the surroundings.

I will PROTECT you. Protect ROOK. Lucanis glanced at Spite, who was staring at him earnestly. It almost passed for comfort. “That’s… I’m fine.” He sighed, picking up his pace slightly. “Let’s not fall behind. We can't protect Rook if we lose track of her.” Almost on cue, more demons manifested in their path, and Lucanis broke into a sprint as he joined the fray, Spite fusing back with him in combat. 

Their confrontation with the demons was followed by the appearance of Emmrich’s rogue necromancer. She revealed herself to be an old friend of Emmrich’s, and Lucanis dimly thought the drama of her speech would rival some of the best in Antiva. Emmrich made it clear they couldn't attack her while she had her soul-charged lantern, leaving them to watch grimly as she exited the Fade, leaving only demons in her wake.

Lucanis felt the chill of a greater despair demon, and recognized it’s attack pattern too late as it plunged them into darkness. He could hear Rook swear, and he knew she was still fighting it. “Mierda! Emmrich, why do they do that?!” Lucanis called out, unsure where Emmrich actually was in the darkness. He heard the professor’s voice from somewhere to his left.

“To disorient us! As to why they focus on Rook, who can say? Spirits seem to have an affinity for her!” Emmrich’s answer was entirely unhelpful, and Rook’s voice reached his ears next.

“Well that’s great, can we stop it?!” She didn't sound hurt, just a bit out of breath from the fight.

“Try stabbing it!" Lucanis yelled back. He hadn't meant it as a joke, but he realized the silliness of his advice as soon as the words left his mouth. Still, the darkness lifted a moment later, and Rook almost stumbled into him, he hadn't realized she'd been so close.

“Stabbing it worked.” She gasped, and though he couldn’t see any injuries, he pulled her aside and passed her a potion as Emmrich rained necrotic magic on the demon. She downed it quickly and bolted back into the fight, Lucanis hot on her heels.

The fight went smoothly from there, and they dispatched the despair demon in record time. There was some brief panic at the thought that they might be trapped in the Fade, but Emmrich resolved it quickly. Lucanis was grateful for the first time that they had the professor with them, despite the fact that they wouldn't be in this mess without him.

“You know,” Rook spoke lowly as they re-entered Blackthorne Manor, on the hunt for the rogue necromancer once more. “Spite is actually pretty well mannered, when you compare him to demons like that.” Lucanis snorted as Spite snickered, but he had no time to retort. Their elusive necromancer, Johanna Hezenkoss, was waiting for them.

She and Emmrich argued back and forth, and Lucanis was genuinely horrified when the disembodied hand Emmrich was carrying around crawled across the floor like a fleshy spider to reattach itself to Johanna. Rook also appeared less than pleased with that development, wrinkling her nose at the sight. Johanna’s next unsettling reveal was that she appeared to be undead, something they didn't have time to ponder before she escaped once more, leaving a massive greater ego demon in her wake.

“Wanna explain why your friend has no eyes?” Rook shrieked at Emmrich as they fought the demon, unable to mask her distress any longer.

“Afterwards, Rook!” Emmrich narrowly avoided a swipe of the demon’s arm as he yelled back, and Lucanis could hear Rook grumbling and swearing. The fight against this demon was notably more taxing, but they brought it down after several arduous attempts. They travelled back to the lighthouse in relative silence, even Emmrich’s usual jubilance dimmed by their time in the manor.

Chapter Text

Lucanis had never been so relieved to be back at the lighthouse. It wasn’t terribly late, but dinner was long past served when they arrived back, and they bid Emmrich goodnight. Lucanis followed Rook to their chambers, picking his words carefully. “So, tomorrow… Are we…?” Rook smiled at him, already undoing the straps of her armor as they headed down the hall.

“No cultists, or Blight, or dragons, or haunted houses on the agenda.” She looked as relieved as Lucanis felt.

“That’s… good.” He sighed as they helped each other out of their armor. Rook piled her things on the floor, as she always did, and Lucanis didn't care enough tonight to pick them up. He pulled her to the lounge as soon as she was undressed, and she didn’t protest as he stripped her of her underclothes as well.

He was feeling impatient as he pulled her into his lap, her back to his chest to hold her firmly against him. He ran his fingers up her thighs before finding her center, already damp with desire. As he stroked her, he felt her breathing hitch, and she leaned her head back into his shoulder, granting him the access he desired as his lips found her neck. Spite wanted more, and he could feel the demon crowding him in his mind, but he willfully ignored those whispers.

Keeping one hand focused on the wet heat between her legs, he trailed the other up her stomach, savoring the smooth stretch of her skin beneath his fingers. She sighed, relaxing into him, and he kept his touch slow and steady, allowing her to occupy his every sense. The taste of her skin under his tongue, the smell of her hair, the feel of her coating his fingers in arousal, the soft noises she made when he pleased her. When Lucanis opened his eyes, he drank in her nakedness under the soft blue light of the aquarium, and she looked like heaven. 

She must have felt the shift in his posture, his erection straining against the cloth of his underwear. She pulled away from him to allow him to pull them off, and when she resettled over his lap she was facing him. Rook pressed his back into the lounge while she kissed him, the slick warmth of her cunt brushing against him as she straddled him. Not a single word had yet passed between them, but they felt unnecessary in the moment. He knew her, what she wanted and what she needed. When she reached between them, her fingers steady around the base of his cock as she guided herself down on top of him, he felt known in turn.

Rook’s pace was agonizing as she rocked her hips against him, and Lucanis felt his breath catch as he tightened his grip around her waist reflexively, fighting the urge to thrust up into her. There was an intensity to her that he didn't want to interrupt, even as she lit his nerves on fire with every touch and grind of her hips. It was like she was memorizing him, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on his skin as she moved, and it crossed his mind that maybe, she was as consumed by him as he was by her.

He let out a low groan when she pushed against him with a sudden rush, her lips crashing against his with fiery passion. He could no longer control himself as he dug his fingers into the supple flesh of her hips, matching her rhythm as he bucked into her. She responded to him in kind, winding one of her hands in his hair as she pulled him ever closer. That was the moment Spite chose, rushing forward to flood his senses when his guard was down.

It wasn’t dissimilar to being submerged underwater. He could still see and hear, but it was all slightly muffled. He could even move if he wanted to, but the effort was sluggish and heavy. Spite’s rasping voice was the only clear thing, as time seemed to distort around him. My TURN. I want OUT. The demon was insistent, but not demanding, Lucanis could say no. It would be as simple as pushing back, rising above the surface once more, but he hesitated. The memory of Spite’s last conversation with Rook and his strange attempt at comfort in the manor had left him feeling more sympathetic. With that in mind, he relented, allowing Spite the turn he desired.

—

Rook wasn’t entirely sure what had come over her, only that this was all she wanted to do. Minrathous left her feeling overwhelmed with emotions she couldn't handle, yet also hollow and empty. She needed to be in control of something she couldn’t fuck up, to feel something other than guilt, to occupy herself with something other than the constant fear she wasn’t doing enough. 

She focused entirely on Lucanis, tracking the rise and fall of his chest, each sound he made, the way his fingers twitched against her as she moved. She was so completely tuned into him, that she recognized the shift as Spite took over instantly. There was a slight tensing of Lucanis’ muscles, followed by a soft exhale as he allowed the demon forward, and then the telltale glow of Spite in his eyes as they shifted to luminous violet. 

She didn't change pace or pull away, instead wrapping her arms around him, dropping her forehead to rest in the crook of his neck. “Spite.” She murmured the demon’s name, both a greeting and an acknowledgement, and he made a low sound in response, almost a purr.

“Rook.” She shivered as he trailed his fingers up and down her spine, and she tightened her grip as she pressed a kiss to the side of his neck. Spite adjusted their position, angling slightly upwards and drawing a breathless cry from her as he hit a spot inside of her that made her jerk with pleasure. The intensity of the sensation caused her to falter, but Spite wasn’t about to allow her to slow down, guiding her at the same relentless pace.

“We want you. ALWAYS.” Spite’s words were smoother than usual, his breath hot against her shoulder as his voice mingled with Lucanis’. Rook lifted her head to kiss him again, clumsy and almost lightheaded with pleasure, but Spite drank her in hungrily as he knotted a hand in her hair. 

“You have me. Always.” She promised between kisses, the words she knew he wanted to hear, and entirely true. As quickly as he’d appeared, Spite faded, Lucanis taking his place in control. Rook moaned into his mouth with every thrust, her voice mingling with his as he voiced his own mounting pleasure. She felt him reach between them, and his fingers sliding against her brought her release crashing down around them both.

She knew he was almost there, close to joining her in climax, and she pressed her mouth to his in a heated kiss as he spilled himself inside of her. He was gripping her hard enough to leave bruises, but she didn't care. She wouldn’t deny him this, she was determined to be what he needed. She couldn't save Minrathous, she couldn’t find Taash’s dragon, she couldn't even pin down Emmrich's necromancer. She wouldn’t let Lucanis down though, at least, not in this regard.

—

Rook was asleep, curled up on her side with her cheek against Lucanis’ chest, a blanket half pulled over them both. After they’d cleaned up and she put on her pajamas, she dozed off almost immediately. He was tired as well, though not quite ready to surrender to sleep.

He was tracing her ear with his fingers, from her jaw all the way up to the pointed tip, thinking about the way elvish sounded when she spoke it. Strange, different, although he was hardly an expert. He knew many city elves didn't speak the language, but Rook said it was spoken in the slave quarters where she’d spent the earliest years of her life.

He wondered where she’d come from. Was she ripped from some forest, kidnapped from a Dalish clan? Were there parents out there someplace, never knowing what had happened to her? She never spoke of a mother or father, just other slaves. Clearly, nobody had spoken up to try and keep her when Viago took her back to Antiva with him.

As she slept against his chest, he remembered her confession from what felt like a long time ago now. Nobody’s ever wanted me. He thought back to Spite’s words, although they'd been his as well, in a sense. Had there been somebody once, other than Viago, who had wanted her? Before she was Rook, before any talk of her potential or House De Riva’s needs. He pondered the idea that there might have been somebody who simply loved her.

Lucanis felt lucky in that sense. He knew where he came from, that he was loved. By his mother and father, by Illario, and by Caterina, in her way. The thought of Illario brought a tightness to his chest, they hadn't spoken since the funeral. His difficult, infuriating, reckless cousin. He resolved that he would return to Treviso tomorrow and seek him out. He wanted to tell him about Rook, to make him understand what she meant to him now. Besides that, he’d yet to hear from Viago, and he knew that their last parting was still weighing on Rook. With an increasingly rare day free, he wanted to take the chance to ease her burdens, even if only by a little.

—

Rook wasn’t thrilled when Lucanis brought up going to Treviso that afternoon, but she knew she couldn't keep putting it off. She agreed to accompany him, and invited Neve along as well, eager to bring the mage to a city that wasn’t so dreary for once. “Lucanis wants me to talk to Viago, I think. But, I was thinking that instead of doing that, you and I could hit up the markets while he chats with his cousin.” Rook chatted excitedly to Neve as they trailed after Lucanis in the Crossroads, keeping her voice low so that he wouldn’t hear.

“You want to take a shopping trip instead of facing your problems? Can’t say I don't see the appeal.” Neve mused, and Lucanis glanced back over his shoulder at them.

“What are the two of you whispering about?” He slowed down, eyeing them suspiciously. 

“We aren’t whispering. We’re talking quietly so you don't hear.” Rook called back, linking her arm with Neve’s. 

“Ah, of course, my mistake.” Lucanis snorted, shaking his head as they approached Treviso’s eluvian. When they stepped through, Rook immediately pulled Neve to the balcony's edge, pointing out various landmarks that were just barely visible as the sun began to set over the Rialto Bay. 

“Rook, you didn’t grow up in Treviso, is that right?” Neve asked her curiously, and Rook shook her head.

“No, Salle. But, I did take several geography classes. So I do know what I’m talking about, I promise.” She grinned at Neve, who rolled her eyes.

“You Crows, always so fancy. And you’re the most normal one I've met.” Neve teased her as Lucanis scowled.

“I’m standing right here, you know.” He grumbled, leading them into the Diamond.

“Lucanis!” Teia’s voice caught their attention, she looked surprised to see him. “I was just about to have Viago send for you, he’s found something.” Teia’s gaze fell on Rook and she faltered, but it wasn’t the time for awkwardness. She rushed forward, eager to share Viago’s intel. “There are Venatori in the city. You were right. Viago has Crows watching them.”

Teia didn’t need to say more, Lucanis went rigid at the news, and Rook glanced meaningfully at Neve as he spoke. “We find them, we find Zara.” He turned to face Rook and Neve. “We only get one shot at this.” Rook nodded, he didn’t even need to ask. Neve smiled slyly as his eyes fell on her.

“What, you're asking me if I want to help hunt down your Venatori nemesis? Please, beats Rook's shopping trip.” Rook pouted, but Lucanis grinned despite the strain in his eyes. Teia gave them instructions on where to meet their contact, and the three of them rushed out of the Diamond. Teia’s eyes lingered on Rook, and she hovered as if she wanted to say more, but Rook didn’t give her the chance.

Chapter Text

Neve kept up with Rook and Lucanis easily. She was well used to tracking Venatori through a busy city, regardless of whether it was Treviso or Minrathous. Their Crow contact was waiting as promised, and they followed her information with Lucanis at the lead. He radiated a quiet intensity, and they cut through their first group of Venatori cultists with brutal precision. Venatori were many things, but careful was hardly a word that could be used to describe their tactics. The trail of correspondence and carnage they left in their wake would have been easy to follow even without a detective on their side.

The three of them tracked Zara’s lieutenant, Aquila, to the Coin district bank, where the coward took one look at Lucanis and tried to run. Lucanis chased him down through the bank, Neve and Rook taking on the Venatori cultists as he stayed hot on Aquila’s heels. By the time they caught up, Lucanis had already killed him, and was impatiently rifling through his pockets. Rook examined the wads of jewelry that he tossed on the floor, the recognizable pendants and gaudy gems of the Andrastian Chantry. 

“Chantry jewelry?” Lucanis paused at Rook’s words, looking more closely as she held out the baubles. 

“You’re right. Okay then, we aren’t far now.” Lucanis’ eyes were too dark to read, his face partially obscured by shadow as he turned from Rook, leading them toward the Chantry. She and Neve followed in silence, the weight of the task ahead pressing in on all sides.

Rook’s anxiety was almost a living thing, writhing like a trapped serpent in her gut, and she was glad she hadn't eaten anything prior to this or she might have been sick. The past several missions had granted her nothing but failure, and her confidence was shaken with every friend she let down. She couldn’t let this be another failure, and she took a steadying breath as they drew closer to the Chantry, scurrying over rooftops and through broken windows.

Rook glanced at Lucanis, unusually quiet, and felt suddenly guilty for being so wrapped up in her own insecurities about this contract. “Lucanis,” She spoke softly as she pulled up alongside him, “Are you sure you're ready for this? Facing Zara, I mean. I know it wasn't what we expected going into this…”

She trailed off as he reached for her hand, giving it a squeeze. “I lost a year of my life to that Venatori witch. I owe her for that. And with you by my side?” She caught his eyes for the first time and saw a fiery determination there, a sureness that steeled her own nerves. “This is as good as finished already.” Rook nodded, her worries temporarily eased.

As they drew ever closer to their destination, a familiar figure stood in shadow, waiting for them, it seemed. “There you are!” Illario’s sanguine voice greeted them. “What took you so long? Did you stop for coffee again?” He was blocking their path, a sly grin on his face as he ignored the sudden tension that had settled over Lucanis.

—

“Illario?” Lucanis should have known, he could have predicted that his cousin would find a way to involve himself in this. “What are you doing here?” He wasn’t worried before, even with the sudden change in plans. He was confident he and Rook could handle Zara, especially with Neve giving them an additional advantage. But Illario wasn't suited to this type of fight, and his presence would only serve to distract Lucanis, increasing the risk.

“I’m coming with you, cousin. No arguments.” If Illario thought he could force his way into this fight, he had another thing coming. There was too much at stake, and Lucanis would choose his cousin’s temporary ire over his death any day.

“This is my job.” Lucanis was more exasperated than truly angry, but his worry hardened him.

“This is Crow business.” Illario shot back, he’d clearly come ready to combat Lucanis’ reasoning with his own.

“How did you even know we’d be here?” Lucanis frowned, he doubted Teia or Viago would have shared their intel with Illario. Teia knew Lucanis’ feelings on the matter, and Viago likely would have never agreed to sending Rook on a job with his cousin. Illario ignored him, sidestepping the question as his eyes settled on Rook, who was standing quietly to the side with Neve.

“Rook! Always a pleasure.” Illario tried to move around him, a tactic he’d used repeatedly now. Illario had pinpointed Rook as a soft spot for Lucanis, something he could needle at. “Touring the city with my cousin? You must allow me to show you the sights.” Lucanis moved to block Illario, uninterested in playing this game, when Rook’s voice came from behind him.

“Lucanis told you not to come.” She was firm but gentle, not a hint of malice to her as she denied Illario the attention he demanded. Still, Illario pouted at her as if she'd insulted him personally.

“Always so quick to side with Lucanis. Rook, you ought to give me more credit.” Lucanis was growing tired of this, and he didn’t have Rook's patience or the time to coddle Illario’s ego. Spite was growing agitated, straining against him like a rabid dog at the end of a leash.

“This isn’t your type of job, cousin. There’s no one you can charm into dropping their guard. Only fanatics.” Lucanis met Illario’s eyes, stormy and stubborn, the same as he had always been. “All you can do is get yourself killed.”

“You think I’m not good enough?” Illario’s eyes betrayed a flash of hurt under his anger, and Lucanis tried to push aside his guilt. He was doing this for his own good, to protect him.

“Are you?” He pushed back, holding his gaze. Rook shifted slightly beside him, and Illario’s eyes flickered to her once more before his shoulders sagged in defeat.

“Fine. Have it your way, cousin. You know best.” He muttered, stepping aside. The fight was easier won than Lucanis had anticipated, and something about it nagged at him, it was unlike Illario to give in so quickly. But, Lucanis’ words may have cut deeper than he’d intended, a wound he would make up for later once the danger had passed. Illario would understand then, when Lucanis had a chance to sit down with him one on one, and he could apologize for any hurt feelings at that point.

“Let’s go, Rook. Zara is waiting.” Lucanis didn't want to give his cousin a chance to change his mind, and he pulled Rook along with him by the hand, choosing to ignore the way Illario's eyes lingered on the point of contact. Neve nodded politely to Illario as she trailed after them, and Lucanis was mildly embarrassed at the realization that she'd never even been introduced. As the distance between them and Illario grew, Neve spoke lowly to Rook.

“That was a little awkward. Does Lucanis’ cousin know the two of you are…?” She glanced between them, and Lucanis pointedly ignored her, instead allowing Rook to take the lead on that line of questioning.

“Um, I don’t think it's... come up, just yet.” Rook answered carefully, and though Lucanis wasn’t looking at her, he imagined she was probably blushing.

“Really? Perhaps it should ‘come up.’ He seemed awfully keen on you.” Neve’s dry observations never failed to fluster Rook, something that usually amused Lucanis.

“Neve. He’s like that with everyone! I think.” Rook rushed to disagree, speaking in a hushed tone that did nothing to hide her discomfort.

Lucanis raised a hand for silence, and they flanked him at the doors to the Chantry. They entered quietly, although it was certainly more of an effort for Neve to match the practiced silence of a Crow as they split up inside, sweeping the entryway before pressing forward into the service hall. The chanting of the Venatori could be heard growing ever louder within, and Lucanis fell back, letting Rook take the lead. This may be his contract, but he knew success was dependent on her ability to utilize them as a team.

Rook sent Neve up the center row of pews, while she and Lucanis took each side. The cultists clocked Neve’s presence too late, unable to react in time to evade the blast of ice magic she sent careening into their group. Rook and Lucanis took advantage of the confusion, picking off cultists who had yet to regain their balance. Lucanis broke off, leaving the stragglers to Rook and Neve as he advanced on Porcia, their would-be leader.

—

Lucanis was locked in combat with the last remaining Venatori mage, the woman who had been leading their strange chant when they first entered. Rook sent Neve around back, and joined him in a bid to overwhelm her. Rook didn’t particularly enjoy fighting mages, but she was confident in her ability to stick almost anyone with a blade, under the right circumstances. Still, she let Lucanis take the lead on dealing damage, serving more as a nuisance than anything else while Neve neutralized the Venatori mage’s magic with her own. It gave Lucanis the edge he needed, and he overpowered her quickly with their help.

She made a strange noise when Lucanis’ blade pierced her throat, as if she might have been trying to say something. They would never know what it was, the woman fell forward with one last dying gurgle as Lucanis pulled his rapier free. “So, was that your mark?” Neve wiped a speck of blood from her own mage knife as she asked.

Lucanis shook his head. “No. That was Porcia, Zara’s favorite Dreamer and soothsayer. She used to come to Ossuary to read bones.”

Rook wrinkled her nose. “I’m more a fan of books, personally.” Lucanis snorted, and Neve rolled her eyes, although she was unsuccessfully trying to hide her smile.

“If she's here, so is Zara.” Lucanis continued, looking around the Chantry as he did. Rook followed his gaze to a door in the back of the service hall, and the three of them hurried through. Bookshelves lined the walls of the small room, and they split up, searching for whatever hidden entrance they all knew would be there. Rook found it first, a click sounding as she rifled through the books, and the shelf slid away, revealing a ladder leading down.

“Where does this go?” She peered into the hole, and Lucanis sighed, moving to take the ladder first.

“Another dark hole.” Rook and Neve followed his lead, and Rook headed for a lantern, calling Neve over to light it. “How did you see that?” Lucanis peered at her curiously as Neve lit the brazier, casting eerie light over what appeared to be a partially flooded dungeon.

“I’m an elf. Darkness isn’t usually an issue for me.” She explained, pointing to her eyes as she did.

“Ah. I… forgot about that, I suppose.” Lucanis dropped his gaze to his boots as Neve laughed.

“You forgot that Rook was an elf, or that elves can see in the dark?” Her teasing pulled a giggle from Rook as well, and they continued through the dungeon feeling a bit lighter than before.

More cultists were waiting within. They dispatched them with ease, and as they exited the dungeon once more, they found themselves in the Chantry courtyard. “You!” A screeching voice caught their attention immediately, and Rook drew her blades as Lucanis went rigid beside her. “I will bring Lady Zara your beating hearts as a gift!” The Venatori mage had several more cultists with him, and they descended into violence again.

Usually, Rook would let Lucanis focus on the presumed leader while she and Neve took out the lackeys, but this particular mage was chatty, and she didn't like talkative opponents. Rook rounded on the sneering mage, zeroing in on him as Neve and Lucanis fanned out.

She moved much faster than his casting could keep up with, and he was too out of breath to continue his taunting for long. He wasn’t weak, she would give him that, but he wasn’t prepared to face an opponent like her, and he retreated as she advanced on him, slipping in the wake of Neve's ice. Rook finished him off promptly, not one to drag things out. She rejoined Neve and Lucanis, content to finish off the rest of the cultists without the prattling of their superior.

“Rook, you’re so predictable.” Neve called out to her, and she grinned in response. “You pulled that same move back in Minrathous with Bataris!” She punctuated her words with a volley of ice that knocked the two remaining cultists backward. Rook descended on one while Lucanis tore after the other, effectively ending the fight. 

“Bataris was annoying too.” She muttered, partly to herself, but Neve laughed all the same.

“Must be a Venatori requirement.” Neve fell into step with Rook as they picked through the carnage.

—

“I would agree with you on that. Faustus used to follow Zara around the Ossuary like a sycophantic shadow. We’re close, he won’t be far from her side.” Lucanis was excited, bolstered by the ease with which they were cutting through the ranks. Neve and Rook had barely broken a sweat, and he was enjoying their casual banter as they pushed deeper into the Chantry. As they entered the next courtyard, more Venatori were waiting, as expected.

“And here are the bodyguards. Let's make this quick.” He drew his blades, and even Spite was vibrating with excitement as they fought. The Venatori were best known for their mages, but Nonus and Decimus were a pair of warriors. Lucanis focused on the mages while Rook went after the warriors, entirely in her element against the slow moving battle units. A shield was worthless if you couldn’t stay facing your opponent, and Rook made short work of the bodyguards with Neve providing cover. 

“Nonus and Decimus. I don't know if those were their names, or if Zara just numbered her guards.” Lucanis peered down at the fallen warriors, and Rook took the opportunity to clean her blades and pass out rejuvenating potions, although they were all doing well on energy it seemed.

“Doesn't matter now, I suppose.” Rook sheathed her weapons, apparently satisfied with her quick field maintenance job. “Come on, plenty more Venatori to kill.”

Chapter Text

Rook fought the urge to cover her nose, the smell of rot and blood was overwhelming. “The work of a blood mage.” Neve commented grimly as they walked through the corpse littered hallway. She was eager to be finished with this, to give Lucanis and Spite the vengeance they craved so they could finally wash their hands of this. The mood had been good up until now, they were in fine form and tearing through Venatori with ease. But Zara Renata was waiting, and the weight of what was coming finally seemed to settle over their little group.

“Neve… If you wouldn’t mind-” Neve held a hand up to Lucanis as he spoke, pausing as they approached an entryway leading to a grand stairwell.

“Say no more, take your little moment with Rook, call me in when you’re ready to move. Just don’t take too long, this isn't exactly my idea of sight-seeing.” She winked while Rook rolled her eyes, but she was grateful for the way Neve was able to ease the tension with a wry word.

She allowed Lucanis to lead her out of earshot, and she glanced at the door at the bottom of the stairwell where they knew Zara would be found. “Rook, this fight…” Lucanis hesitated for a moment, and Rook waited patiently for him to gather his thoughts. “Just don’t… She isn’t like the Venatori we’ve faced up until now. We need to be smart about this, we can’t make any mistakes, and-” She placed a hand against Lucanis’ chest, steadying him as she held his gaze.

“I know, Lucanis. I’m ready if you are. Take a deep breath.” She reminded him of his own advice, and he complied with a smile.

“We need our heads clear for this fight. You're right, as always.” He leaned in, planting a quick kiss on her lips before glancing down the stairwell. “Alright. Neve! Let’s go.” Neve reappeared in the doorway, joining them as they headed for the door.

Rook didn't have any expectations for what Zara Renata would be like, or what might await them beyond the corridor of bodies. Still, she made no attempt to hide her surprise, or her disgust, when they entered what appeared to be a bathhouse. Zara was naked within the bath, but there was thick, viscous blood in place of the water, and Rook’s stomach turned thinking of just how many people she would have needed to drain in order to fill such a pool.

“Lucanis. It’s terribly uncivilized to drop in on a lady unannounced. Now the evening’s ruined.” Zara spoke in a chastising tone, her sharp eyes regarding Lucanis with a coldness that might have unnerved Rook, had her own rage not burned so hot. As if she felt the fire in her eyes, Zara’s gaze shifted to Rook. "And you brought friends.” She cooed, mocking and transparent as she sized them up. Lucanis stepped in front of her, and Zara latched on to his reaction.

“More than a friend, perhaps?” She grinned, the white of her teeth a stark contrast to the blood and viscera she was caked in.

“Enough talk.” Lucanis’ voice shook with barely contained rage as he drew his blades, Rook and Neve following his lead. Zara stood slowly to face them, pulling a pair of blades from the bath as she rose.

“Ugh, gross.” Rook wrinkled her nose at the sight, and Zara sneered back at her.

“This interruption won't last long.” She lunged for them, she was faster than Rook might have initially anticipated, and they scattered. The final fight was upon them.

Lucanis was right, Zara was no pushover, and Rook had to keep her focus sharp as Zara wielded blood magic in a way she’d never seen before. Her power was astonishing, and still she called for reinforcements, additional Venatori mages materializing in a fog of foul magic to lend her their aid. 

“I can keep the cultists busy while you two focus on Zara!” Neve called out, her ice magic a non-stop flurry against the efforts of the mages. “Rook, watch those blades!” Rook parried Zara’s blow even as Neve called the warning, she was no stranger to a knife fight.

“No, I was planning to ignore the weapons in her hands!” She called back, pleased when her next blow caught Zara off guard, slicing her across the cheek. Rook thought she heard Neve laugh, but couldn’t be sure over the sounds of battle. Zara’s eyes were bright with fury, but as she darted away, Rook caught fear there as well. Good, her turn to be outmatched.

Rook tore after her, Lucanis at her side, and they fell into a practiced rhythm, battling her as a unit. “You’re mine Zara. This ends with my knife through your heart!” Lucanis fought with the full power of Spite, while Zara tried to keep him at bay with a combination of blades and magic.

“Temper, temper Lucanis!” She taunted back, but her bravado was short lived as Rook managed to knock her off balance, and her blood magic was the only thing that saved her as she sent them both careening backwards with a sudden explosion of force. Her focus split from Lucanis, back on Rook once more as she recognized the threat she posed.

“Whatever shall we do with you, knife-ear?” She hissed, blood magic sending rippling waves through the pool as she advanced on Rook. 

“You won't do a damn thing!” Neve’s voice surprised Rook, closer than she'd realized as she sent ice rocketing up through the pool, interrupting Zara’s spell as she pulled Rook to safety. "Good job watching the weapons, but don't forget the blood magic.” Neve teased, but Rook caught the worry in her eyes, and she smiled, passing her a potion before rejoining Lucanis. 

“Is it not enough?” Zara’s voice had gone shrill, panic edging every attack as they gradually overpowered her.

“Not until you're dead.” Lucanis was relentless, his focus singular. Rook adjusted accordingly, catching Neve's eye as she finished off the last of Zara’s cultist reinforcements. They were close.

The three of them pressed her, Neve and Rook filling in the gaps between Lucanis’ attacks until Zara was spent, unable to keep up with their momentum any longer. Lucanis landed a kick that sent her skidding across the floor, and as she struggled to stand, devoid of mana and weapons, the air seemed to twist and shimmer around her. She was the stunning temptress no longer, a wretched hag now pulling herself to her feet, and Rook cast a curious look at Neve, who only shook her head.

“So… so serious, Lucanis!” Zara rasped, a feeble attempt at establishing some control, stalling the coming end. Rook hated the sound of Lucanis’ name on her lips, but this wasn't her kill, and she wouldn’t take the shot. “Why don't we talk? I can tell you much about Venatori… and our pet Crows.” Rook didn't watch Zara, her eyes were fixed on Lucanis, where he stood trembling, and she could feel the weight of Spite’s presence, stronger than she ever had before.

—

No. I want. Her HEART. Quivering. On our KNIFE. Spite’s seething anger mingled with his own, and Lucanis struggled to maintain his focus.

“You want to know who betrayed you, don’t you? Who sent you to the Ossuary?” Zara’s words cut through the haze, and Lucanis flexed his fingers on his blade. Just a bit longer.

“Talk.” He gritted out, stepping closer, dimly aware of Rook and Neve at either side of him. Zara nearly laughed, her relief at the temporary stay of his blade irritating him.

“I knew you were reason-” Zara gasped, and Lucanis stepped back, equally startled as Illario landed between them. He'd leapt down from the rafters, never one to pass up a grand entrance.

“Illario?” Lucanis was so confused by his unexpected arrival, that he wasn’t entirely sure what to say.

“I told you, this is Crow business.” Lucanis heard the sharp intake of breath from Rook as Illario turned on Zara, cutting her throat in a single swift strike. Spite roared, clawing at Lucanis for control, pulling him under. It was that same sensation he'd felt with Rook, his head underwater as everything grew muffled and slow around him, but there was no choice here. Spite drowned him out, seizing control by force.

—

“No! MINE!” Spite’s voice burst forth from Lucanis with a rush of power, sending a shockwave rippling through the room and knocking Rook and Neve backwards. There was an inhuman screeching as demonic energy filled the chamber, and Rook struggled to stand against the sheer weight of it. Neve was several feet away, and as Rook spun wildly to find Lucanis, she was horrified to see him on top of Illario, trying to drive a blade into his chest. Spite’s wings were tensed, violet tendrils binding Lucanis in place as the two fought for control.

Lucanis was crying out, a combination of pain and fear as Illario struggled beneath him. Rook’s heart was in her throat as she stumbled to her feet, rushing forward as Lucanis called out to her. “Get… Illario out.” He gasped, straining to turn and look at her. “Rook, I can’t-” Lucanis was desperate, screaming at her for help as she pushed through Spite’s forceful aura to get to them.

“That’s enough!” Illario gasped. Lucanis’ eyes went wide with shock as Spite's power dissipated, and he went limp as Illario shoved him. The sudden disappearance of Spite’s energy caused Rook to stagger again, but her gaze was locked on Illario. He stood over Lucanis, vulnerable and unguarded, and her heart seized in her chest as her vision went blurry with rage.

—

Spite recoiled from Illario like a beaten dog, letting out a wail of agony that only Lucanis could hear as he cowered within him. The demon’s pain was dizzying, and Lucanis felt foggy and disoriented as he tried to gather himself. Before he had the chance, Rook was on Illario. She crashed into him in a full bodied tackle, knocking his cousin backward again as she drove him to the ground. “What did you do to him?” Rook was snarling at Illario, her anger almost matching Spite’s from moments before as she grappled with him.

“Nothing!” Illario hissed, trying to regain the upper hand as Rook attempted to pin him. He was much bigger than her, but she’d surprised him with her sudden attack, and Lucanis knew well that Rook was a great deal stronger than she appeared. Unlike her sparring match with Lucanis, she wasn't holding back, driving her knee into Illario’s stomach as she wrestled with him. “I don't know what happened any better than you! Get off of me you little-” Illario’s temper was rising. This was escalating out of control, and there was a horrible moment where he feared Rook might actually hurt Illario.

“Rook, stop!” He called out to her as he struggled onto his knees, and time seemed to slow. She turned to look at him, her eyes bright and soft with worry, and Illario seized on her momentary distraction. Lucanis caught the glint of the blade in Illario’s palm, but he was still too sluggish to register the danger, and he watched in silent horror as his cousin rammed the dagger up between her ribs. Rook let out a strangled yelp, and Illario pushed her off of him. He knelt over her for a moment, still gripping the hilt of the dagger as he wrapped his other hand around her throat.

“Don’t!” Lucanis’ plea came too late, and Illario ripped the knife free with a spray of blood, while Rook let out a choked scream. He watched his cousin stumble to his feet, backing away as Rook's blood dripped from the blade. She rolled onto her side, gasping as she curled inward on herself.

Lucanis could hear Neve screaming Rook’s name, and Illario stepped out of the way as she came barreling forward to kneel beside her. Lucanis’ breath came too loud in his ears, Spite eerily silent as the nightmare unfolded around him. Neve pulled Rook into her lap, her back blocking his view of her. He met Illario’s gaze again, disbelieving. 

“This is on you.” Illario snarled, his chest heaving as Lucanis watched him, wide eyed. “Get out, and stay out. Out of Treviso, away from the Crows. You are a danger to this family.” Lucanis’ eyes dropped to the bloody knife in Illario's hand once more, still trying to process what had just happened.

“Illario... what have you done?" His own voice was hoarse in his ears, and Illario followed his gaze, glancing back over his shoulder to where Neve was kneeling with Rook. Illario said nothing in return, only wiped his blade off on his armor as he turned to leave. Lucanis remained there on his knees watching Illario disappear, frozen in place until the sound of Neve’s panicked screams cut through the haze of shock that had descended over him.

“Lucanis! I need your help now!” Her desperate plea snapped him back into reality, and he was suddenly, painfully aware of Rook's voice as well, whimpering and crying between ragged breaths as Neve held her. He staggered to his feet, rushing to meet them, and his heart dropped into his stomach. Neve was cradling Rook in one arm, the other hand pressed to her abdomen as blood coated her fingers and pooled on the floor.

“I don’t know any healing magic." She looked to Lucanis as he joined her, kneeling at Rook's other side so she was sandwiched between them. “This is a lot of blood, Lucanis.” He’d never heard Neve so panicked, and he pushed her hand aside wordlessly, suppressing a flinch when he saw the extent of the damage. Rook had never even drawn a blade against Illario, she was only trying to subdue him. She’d left herself completely open when Lucanis called out to her, and Illario took full advantage of that trust, the opportunity that Lucanis handed to him.

His knife cut clean through her leathers when he drove it upward into the soft flesh between her ribs. He hadn’t gotten close to her heart, but the wet, rapid breaths she was taking implied a punctured lung. Neve was right about the blood, it was far too much and coming too fast, he must have hit an artery. Lucanis pressed both hands over the gaping wound, trying to stem the flow. Rook choked out a cry of pain, fighting against him as he pushed his fingers into her torn flesh, trying to hold off the artery. His gloves were too thick, and already soaked through. He pulled back briefly, ripping them off before reaching for her again.

“What are you doing?” Neve hissed, struggling to keep Rook still as he felt around inside of her, his fingers bumping against bone and slipping in viscera as he searched. 

“Need to find the artery and pinch it off. Or she’ll bleed out before we can get her back to the Diamond.” He explained quickly, raising his voice so Neve could hear him over Rook’s agonized wailing. 

“And then?" Neve’s shrill response gave him pause, and he gritted his teeth as he tried to think through the rising panic, and to ignore the horrible sounds Rook was making. He’d never heard her in abject pain like this. Even after the dragon attack, she was somewhat stoic, more tired than anything else.

“When I find the artery, switch places with me. You can cauterize it, like you did at Weisshaupt.” He resumed his search, pressing until he felt the pulsing artery, gushing blood with every beat of her heart. He pinched it between his fingers, meeting Neve’s eyes for the first time. She was pale, staring at him in horror.

“Are you insane? I can’t-” Lucanis felt a rush of desperation as he grabbed one of her wrists with his free hand, staining her sleeve with blood as he pulled her towards the wound.

“You have to.” He snapped, there was no time for coddling. Rook’s struggling had already begun to falter, a bad sign. He'd killed enough targets with his bare hands to know what death felt like, and this was far too familiar. Spite stirred for the first time since Illario suppressed him as Lucanis tried to guide Neve’s hand where he needed it. She grows dim. “Here, can you feel it?” He pressed her fingers into the lacerated artery, trying to keep the tremor from his hands as he did.

Neve looked like she might be sick, but she nodded, replacing Lucanis’ fingers with her own. Lucanis pressed his forearm against Rook's collarbone, pinning her down. “She’s going to scream, I’ll hold her as still as I can. Do it.” He couldn’t bring himself to look at Rook’s face, and he opted to close his eyes as he rested his forehead against hers. “Forgive me for this.” He murmured his plea, unsure if she actually heard or understood him.

Neve hesitated for a fraction of a second before following through with Lucanis’ order. It was worse than he could have anticipated. He knew the moment Neve began as Rook shrieked, fighting him with renewed desperation as the smell of burnt flesh mingled with blood. He pressed her into the stone floor, whispering apologies she couldn’t hear as she screamed. This was torture no matter how he looked at it, but he could see no other way to get her back to the Diamond alive. But if she died, her last memory would be of him holding her down while Neve burned her, and that was almost enough to paralyze him with dread again. Her screams devolved into ragged sobs as Neve finished her grim task.

You hurt Rook. Spite’s voice was an unwelcome distraction that Lucanis didn’t need, and he ignored him entirely. He released his hold on her and felt a sliver of relief when he saw that the bleeding had slowed significantly, but she’d already lost a great deal, she could still die. They needed to get back to the Diamond, they needed an actual healer and a variety of potions that he didn't have on him. Still, he pulled what he did have from his belt, and Neve followed his lead.

He tried to prop Rook up, and she didn't fight him, she’d gone limp save her trembling as shock began to set in. He began tipping potions back into her throat, and she coughed, choking on them. He covered her mouth with one hand, trying to shift her upwards and prevent her from throwing it back up. Neve poured the potions she had over the wound as he moved her, and then removed her sash from her robes, pressing it to Rook’s stomach.

“Rook, can you hold pressure right here?" Neve spoke softly to her, but Rook didn't respond, staring at her with glassy eyes and blown pupils. 

“We need to move her. I’ll get her back to the Diamond on my own, you go ahead, tell Teia and Viago we’re coming.” Neve didn't say anything to Lucanis, but she took off running at his instruction, casting one last look down at Rook as she left. 

Lucanis gathered her in his arms, using Neve’s sash to try and pack the wound by stuffing it between her armor and her torn flesh. He could feel Spite’s nervous energy. She is quiet now. The demon’s murmured observation frustrated Lucanis, he clearly didn't grasp the severity of the situation at hand. “We need to get her back to the Diamond. She needs help.” He spoke in a clipped tone as he lifted her, and the movement of standing made it clear just how much she'd bled, leaving behind a puddle where she’d lain. 

He needed Spite’s help, loathe as he was to admit it. Spite didn’t wait to be asked, and Lucanis felt the familiar hum of power as his wings sprung forth, and he adjusted Rook one last time before he took off at a run. She wasn’t heavy, but he’d never had to carry her like this; deadweight for such a distance, almost completely unresponsive as he tried to avoid jostling her too much.

Does she sleep? Spite’s question was tinged with anxiety as they made their way up through the Chantry and back into the courtyard. “No.” Lucanis responded through gritted teeth, trying to map the quickest way back to the Diamond in his head as they took flight. “She’s hurt. It’s different.” No further words passed between them as Lucanis alternated between flight and running the rooftops, checking periodically to confirm that Rook was still breathing.

His muscles ached with effort, and his lungs burned as he hauled her through the city at a breakneck pace. The sight of the Cantori Diamond in the distance imbued him with renewed determination. “Almost there, mi amor.” He panted, even knowing she was no longer conscious enough to hear him. He made his way back down to the streets as he drew close, relief flooding him at the sight of Viago, already waiting at the back doors of the ground level.

Viago ran to meet him as he approached, and Lucanis was too exhausted to protest when he ripped Rook out of his arms without a word, although Spite bristled. Teia appeared at the door next, calling back over her shoulder when she saw them. “They're here!” Viago bolted past her, and she approached Lucanis breathlessly. “Neve said Rook was hurt badly, we have healers ready inside. She went back to your lighthouse to alert the rest of your team.” She looked at Lucanis, soaked in blood and shaking with exhaustion and fear.

As she placed her hands against his shoulders, the warmth of her skin through his leathers brought into focus how cold Rook must have been. “Lucanis, what happened?” Her words were like a bucket of water over his head, and he nearly collapsed into her arms as the full weight of the night finally hit him. Zara was dead, but not by his blade. And Rook was dying now too, Illario’s betrayal hitting him like a blow.

“Illario.” He gasped out his cousin's name as Teia held him, trying to steady him, and he realized he was crying, he didn’t even know when he’d started. “I never thought- If I’d known he would-” He took a shuddering breath as Teia tried to soothe him. “She was trying to- he did something and Spite… Illario stabbed her.” He knew he was making no sense, but he’d barely worked through it himself. It was all going so well, and now, he stood to lose everything.

Chapter Text

Lucanis watched the shallow rise and fall of Rook’s chest as she slept, the mug of coffee in his hands growing cold as he sat and stared at her. She wasn't dying anymore, according to the healers. She still looked pale, but Lucanis thought a touch of color had returned, though he couldn't be sure. He could hear Viago’s voice, low and strained in the hallway as he argued about something with Teia. He set the mug aside, leaning closer to examine Rook.

They’d taken the time to clean her up before allowing him in, she was wearing a pair of men’s trousers that were far too large, and he realized that they must have belonged to Viago. He reached out, letting his fingers hover over the bandages wrapped around her torso, but he didn't touch her. For what must have been the hundredth time that night, he replayed it in his head.

Illario used blood magic, he was certain of it, even if he didn't know exactly how. He’d only ever seen that type of reaction from Spite in the Ossuary, and Spite had all but confirmed the thought when he first had it. And then… Rook had gone after Illario, demanding answers. She must have recognized it immediately when it happened. And in all his foolishness he’d panicked, called her attention away from the threat he refused to acknowledge, and she paid the price for it. 

His cousin never would have landed such a blow without Lucanis’ interference, Rook was too careful, too skilled to give an opponent that type of opening under normal circumstances. He looked at her face again, peaceful in her potion-induced slumber, Viago had given her something. He wanted her to stay asleep for a few days, he’d said, until the worst of the pain had passed and she was more healed. Lucanis had no arguments, he wasn’t sure he'd ever get the memory of her screaming out of his head. She’d experienced enough pain.

He reached for her again, resting his fingers against her cheek this time, and he ran his thumb along her jaw in a slow pattern. “That stunt you pulled cauterizing the wound probably saved her life.” Viago’s voice startled him, and Lucanis pulled back, craning in his chair to look behind him. Viago was leaning against the door frame, watching him intently.

The Fifth Talon looked pale and exhausted, and Lucanis imagined he probably didn't look much better. As Viago made his way into the room, Lucanis turned to watch Rook again. “It wasn't my idea. She thought of it, back at Weisshaupt. I happened to see it then.” He didn’t want to talk about that, he never wanted to do it again, and he doubted Neve would agree to it a third time. He wondered if Rook would remember it when she woke, if she could ever forgive him. Viago snorted, taking the remaining seat on the other side of the bed.

“Of course she did. Reckless idiot.” He leaned toward Rook as he spoke, and Lucanis watched as he brushed the hair out of her face. “Those friends of yours are insisting on seeing her. I have Teia holding them off for now, but Harding may initiate a coup. I was hoping you might convince them to wait a few days. It isn’t as though they can speak with her.” Lucanis might have smiled, if he didn’t feel so hollow.

“Rook… she’s done a great deal. For all of them. Us. I don't think I could convince them to leave.” Lucanis closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. “Viago… I wanted to tell you that I'm so-” 

“Enough.” Viago's voice was sharp, and Lucanis met his eyes reluctantly. “Teia told me what happened. I spoke with the mage, Neve, as well. None of us could have foreseen this.” Viago gestured at Rook’s bandages as he spoke. “What matters now… is what you plan to do going forward.” Lucanis’ mouth went dry, but he didn’t reach for his cold coffee. This was the problem, the question he’d been circling for hours.

His gut reaction was to kill Illario. But that idea made him want to vomit, and shamefully, he wasn’t sure he could do it, even now. He still didn't know what was fully going on, and while Illario had acted unforgivably, he hadn't been entirely unprovoked. The night had morphed from one nightmare into another, and he felt paralyzed by the mounting pressure, a choice he wasn’t prepared to make. “I don't know.” He spoke softly, as though he might wake her, but he knew that wasn't the case.

Viago continued to stare him down for what felt like a very long time. “She was a horrible child, you know.” Lucanis blinked, confused by the sudden change in subject, but he remained silent as Viago continued. “She was violent, and messy, and impossible to reason with. It felt like I’d brought home a wild dog instead of a little girl at first.” Lucanis tried to picture the child Viago described, and had a hard time conflating it with the woman he knew.

“But, she was also clever, naturally gifted. I knew, with time and the right tools, I could turn her into a capable Crow.” Viago’s eyes softened when he looked at Rook, a strange expression on the usually clinical Talon. “She didn’t even have a name, when I acquired her. I called her Urraca.” Lucanis frowned at him.

“A… Magpie?” He was struggling to follow this conversation, but Viago nodded.

“That's right. She collected things, clutter. And she was so messy, it was like she was building a nest. She didn’t mind the name, but never could pronounce it properly. Sounded more like Ur-rook-ah when she said it, so…” He looked meaningfully at Lucanis, who nodded slowly.

“So… Rook?” He offered, and Viago nodded.

“Eventually, yes. It's what Varric called her.” Lucanis felt a bit stupid, he’d never even asked her about her name, although he definitely knew she hadn't always been called Rook. “So, she’s been a wild dog, a Magpie, and now a Rook.” Viago sighed, looking down at her again. “I still believe she makes a fine Crow. But…” Viago tensed, his next words notably colder.

“She isn't like you or me. Or your cousin. You cannot expect her… She would never betray you. And thus, she doesn’t foresee it from others. It is a weakness.”  Lucanis shifted uncomfortably in his chair, but Viago wasn’t finished. “It’s the one lesson she won't learn, time and time again. I guarantee you, when she wakes, she will make no demands of you. She will forgive even this…” Lucanis saw it then, Viago’s rage. He’d been speaking so softly that he almost missed it. But Viago's hands were shaking, and when he met his eyes, there was nothing but cold fury there. 

“Make no mistake, Lucanis. I will hold you to this. You take the time you need, focus on killing the gods first, if you have to. But you handle this. Handle Illario, whatever that looks like. Or I will.” It wasn’t a threat, but a promise. In a way, Viago was showing him a courtesy, but Lucanis knew he could only press that good will so far. He nodded his understanding, it was more grace than he rightfully deserved. And he would at least have time to come up with a plan.

“I understand. I’ll… figure it out. For now… keep an eye on him for me?” Lucanis swallowed hard as he spoke, even knowing Illario had left him with no choice, it didn’t make it any easier. Viago snorted, shaking his head. 

“Teia is already on that.” He leaned forward in his chair, brushing his lips against Rook’s forehead in a surprisingly tender gesture before standing to leave the room. “I’ll tell your friends they can visit in the morning. I trust you’ll stay with her?” 

Lucanis nodded, his eyes drifting to Rook's sleeping form again. “Always.” Viago grunted at that and left them alone, although it didn't last. Teia appeared almost immediately after Viago left, and Lucanis got the distinct impression she'd been waiting her turn. She’d brought him a fresh mug of hot coffee, and he accepted it gratefully.

“Viago didn’t get anywhere near it, I promise." Teia teased, and he offered a strained smile. “How are you doing, Lucanis?” She didn't take the other chair, instead sitting at the edge of Rook’s bed, and he noticed a folded set of pajamas in her hands.

“I’m… fine.” He felt awkward having Teia ask after him like this. He’d practically fallen apart in her arms when they first arrived, and she’d needed to sit and coax the full story out of him while simultaneously managing his emotional fragility. Now that he’d regained his composure, he was embarrassed by his behavior. As if sensing this, Teia set the pajamas aside, not pressing him further.

“This set belongs to me, it will fit Rook better than Vi’s pants. Help me get her changed.” Lucanis almost protested when she began carefully pulling the pants down Rook’s hips, before realizing how foolish it was. He instead moved to help her, trying to keep Rook as still as possible as they worked each leg into the pajama pants before pulling them up over her waist. Teia set the shirt off to the side, and peered at Lucanis again. “Do you need anything?” She looked him up and down as she asked, and he shook his head.

“Lucanis, you saved her life. She’s going to be alright.” Teia spoke softly, but he stiffened at her words.

“She’s lying there because of me, Teia. That doesn’t… Nothing can change that.” Teia sighed, shaking her head.

“Rook will always find trouble. Just as she always has. This time, it just happened to be your trouble. You’ll learn from this. Grow from it.” Her words didn’t ease his guilt, but he saw the logic in them. “I’ll let you get your rest. You won't be disturbed again until the morning, I promise.” Lucanis nodded, watching as she left, the door clicking softly as she closed it behind her.

Spite had remained small and quiet for almost the entire time they'd been at the Diamond. Now, he appeared again, and Lucanis watched the demon cooly as he sat across from him. You are angry. The demon’s gaze shifted between Lucanis and Rook as he spoke, as though she might wake up to their conversation. Lucanis said nothing, rather intent on ignoring the demon, but Spite continued.

I did not HURT Rook. HE hurt her. YOU hurt her. Lucanis gritted his teeth against Spite’s words, the demon had no right to be so accusatory. “It is your fault we’re in this situation. You lost your temper.” Spite hissed in response, leaning over Rook as he spat his next words. YOU do not keep our deal. She was. OUR. KILL. Our VENGEANCE. Lucanis looked away from Spite, unwilling to yield even this small concession.

Rook sleeps. Spite’s voice had taken on an almost mournful tone, and he looked up again to see the demon hovering over Rook, one hand extended as though he meant to touch her. Even the wolf doesn’t hunt her now. She must HEAL. No dreams. Lucanis looked at Rook, and he thought it might have truly been the easiest sleep he’d ever seen her endure. How bitter that truth tasted, that Solas only granted her peace in a moment such as this. 

Why did you hurt her? Spite continued to question him, and his repeated assertion that Lucanis had hurt Rook was starting to get under his skin. “I didn’t. I… I needed to hurt her in order to help her.” Spite stared at him, unreadable and unnaturally still. I don’t understand. His response was flat, and he continued to watch Lucanis expectantly. “Of course you don’t understand. How could you? She was dying. She would've been gone, forever, if I didn’t hurt her. And it would’ve been just as much your fault.” Lucanis couldn’t remember the last time he'd argued like this with Spite, and he was purposefully cruel with his words. He wanted to anger Spite in that moment, to make him feel bad, if it was even possible.

Spite didn’t lash out, didn’t snap back with something equally nasty in response. He instead sat quietly, considering Lucanis’ words for several long seconds before he spoke again. I would miss her. Like she missed home. It was a startling thing to hear, and Spite said it smoothly, not his usual angry, halting speech. “Did… she tell you that?” Lucanis didn’t remember Rook ever saying such a thing, but Spite nodded. Once. She told me while you slept. The first time, when I hurt her. Spite’s spectral fingers reached for her wrist, and Lucanis remembered when Spite accidentally bruised her. “I would miss her too.” The anger seeped out of him, exhaustion taking it's place once more, and he grabbed Rook’s hand. Her fingers were cool in his, and he wondered if it was too cold in the room for her. He pulled the blanket up, covering her carefully before kicking off his boots and crawling gingerly onto the bed beside her. 

He’d changed out of his armor hours ago. Teia had brought him clothes that one of the team members apparently brought along, and he wondered dimly who had taken the time to grab them. Still, he felt a bit overdressed, although he certainly wasn’t about to strip down. The idea of Viago coming back in the morning and discovering Lucanis half naked in bed with Rook was horrifying enough to banish such a thought. I will watch. Spite took up his usual position at Rook’s other side, but Lucanis doubted he would be sleeping very well, or for very long.

Chapter Text

Rook knew that she was in pain. It was the first thing she became aware of, a sharp ache that reverberated with every breath. The second sensation was that she was cold, the air on her bare skin left her feeling chilly, and her first coherent thought was to wonder where her shirt had gone. Next was thirst, her mouth was terribly dry, and the metallic taste of blood in the back of her throat only intensified the desire for water. When she opened her eyes, it was dim, and it took her blinking several times to make out that she was in a small room, and to register Emmrich apparently reading in a small armchair beside her, a little oil lamp illuminating him. 

She stared at him, confused and groggy, before reaching out. Her fingers brushed the fabric of his shirt as she tried to grab his elbow, she couldn’t form words just yet. He startled when she touched him, his eyes going round and wide as he looked down at her. “Oh! Oh my dear girl.” He bolted upright, nearly knocking over a small side table with his knee and dropping his book as he rushed to grab a pitcher of water.

Rook didn’t know how he knew what she wanted, and she didn’t care. She was grateful when he eased her into a sitting position, despite the pain that came with it, and helped her drink from the glass he'd poured her. The water was too cold, and it almost hurt to drink, but she downed the glass greedily, and Emmrich moved to refill it as he spoke. “We weren't expecting you to wake up for a few more hours, at least. Lucanis should be back shortly, he’ll be thrilled to see that you’re awake. He's scarcely left your bedside.” The second glass went down easier than the first, and she held fast to Emmrich before he could move away again.

He paused, placing an arm around her shoulders as he sat beside her. “Take your time, Rook. You’ve been asleep for three days. I’m assuming you don’t… remember everything?” Rook frowned at his words. Three days? She was still trying to gather her thoughts, and she reached for her stomach absently, the pain she was feeling seemed to intensify as she became more alert. Emmrich grabbed her arm, stopping her. “Don’t touch, you’re not fully healed. I imagine it’s still quite uncomfortable, but you must be patient.” 

She looked down to see that she was heavily bandaged, and her frown deepened as she tried to remember what had happened. “We…” She finally manage to form a word, and she swallowed, taking a deep breath before trying again. “We were… in the Chantry?” She sifted through fragmented memories, it was like trying to recall a dream. The Chantry, fighting, a pool filled with blood. Zara Renata. Her memory sharpened as she recalled the Venatori sorceress, Lucanis’ rage as they fought her. And finally, Illario, claiming the kill that wasn’t his.

“Illario, that fucking…” She gasped, wincing in pain as she tensed, and Emmrich made a soothing noise, rubbing her shoulder. 

“I know, I know. Don’t rush yourself.” She leaned into him, turning her face against his shirt as she tried to steady her breathing. “It was a bad wound, Rook. We’re lucky Neve and Lucanis acted so quickly. We’ve all been so terribly worried for you.” Rook frowned, she still didn’t remember being wounded.

“Why are you here…?” She spoke the thought aloud as it came to her, peering curiously up at the professor. Emmrich chuckled, and she realized what a terribly rude thing it was to say. “I mean, I’m always happy to see you but… Where are we, actually?” Rook looked around again, the furniture was familiar, but it definitely wasn't the lighthouse. “Also, did you say three days?” 

“It’s alright, calm down. Let’s tackle one thing at a time, hm? We’ve all been getting along just fine. The little notebook you keep has been extremely helpful keeping us all on task, and we’ve been staying here with you and Lucanis on a rotation-” Emmrich’s words did not calm her down, and she felt more questions bubbling up as he spoke.

“Notebook? You mean my journal? You’ve been reading my journal?” Rook was horrified as Emmrich paused.

“Ah. That would explain all the little personal tangents included with the mission information.” Rook stared at him in shock, trying to work through the increasing tangle of questions and feelings that were beginning to overwhelm her. She was still confused, she was still in pain, she had no idea where she was, and she’d just learned that her team was using her personal journal as a guidebook to continue working without her.

It was Emmrich's turn to be horrified as she was overcome with tears, and she began crying into his shirt. That action made the pain worse, which in turn led to more tears. “Oh, no. I should really get somebody to-” Emmrich tried to pull away, but she held fast to him, terrified to be left alone for reasons she couldn't pin down. The door swung open at that moment, and the room seemed to grow brighter as Lucanis stepped inside.

—

Lucanis heard Emmrich's voice as he approached Rook’s room in the Diamond, and he expected to see the necromancer reading aloud again as he opened the door. Instead, he found Emmrich perched on the edge of the bed, one arm around Rook as she clung to him, weeping into his chest. Lucanis was momentarily frozen as Emmrich looked at him helplessly. “She woke up.”

Emmrich’s words broke the spell, and he rushed forward, nearly shoving the professor out of the way in his desperation to get to her. “Gently, Lucanis! She is not fully healed, as of yet.” Lucanis heard the warning, but he couldn’t contain his relief as he embraced her. She was trembling, the room was too cold again.

“Get Viago.” Lucanis’ voice was rough and thick with emotion. Emmrich nodded, hurrying out of the room as Lucanis tried to soothe Rook. “I’m so sorry. I should have been here.” She was still crying, but it felt incredible to have her arms around him, to be held by her again.

“Emmrich read my diary.” She whimpered between sobs, and Lucanis pulled her in tighter.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He murmured into her hair, rubbing circles into her back as he held her. “But I’m sure we will figure it out.” She wasn't just awake, she was talking. He never thought he’d be so relieved to hear her voice, even hoarse with tears. “How do you feel? Are you in pain?” He tried to examine her, but she tightened her grip on him, and he couldn’t bear to pull away.

“I don't know what’s going on.” Lucanis could feel her trying to take slow breaths as she spoke, and he knew she must be hurting. He leaned her back carefully into the pillows, sitting up like this would make it worse.

“Try to relax, I know it’s a lot. I’m here though, I’m not leaving.” She loosened her grip on him, and he rubbed her damp cheeks with his thumbs. She was staring at him, her eyes wide and wet as she waited for him to explain. He hesitated though, he knew she was confused, likely desperate to know what had happened. He wasn’t sure how much she remembered, and selfishly, it was the last thing he wanted to talk to her about.

“What do you remember?” He kept his voice carefully neutral, he'd practiced this moment repeatedly over the last few days with Spite. The demon was behaving, sticking to the plan so far of allowing Lucanis to focus as she woke up and adjusted. Rook frowned at the question.

“Illario killed Zara.” She reached for him, and her fingers were delightfully warm against his cheek. “I’m so sorry Lucanis.” She dropped her gaze then, and he watched her. “I’m… Is Spite okay?” Her voice shook, and he sighed. He would never get used to the way she loved him so completely, demon included.

“He is fine. Or, he will be. We both will be. But… things are more complicated, now.” He hesitated, waiting to see if Rook would say more, but she didn’t. “I’ve been trying to figure out what to say to you. And… There aren’t words enough to apologize.” He shook his head, unable to hold her gaze as he burned with shame. “You were hurt because of me. Because I couldn’t…” He sighed, it was too difficult to put into words. “We need to talk about Illario.”

He caught Rook’s nod out of the corner of his eye. “It’s… He did something to you. Or, to Spite?” She was speaking softly, frowning as she did. He watched as she tried to recall what had occurred. 

“He used blood magic to control Spite.” He filled in the gaps for her. Rook hadn’t realized it was blood magic, she’d likely been confused and frightened, just as he would have been in her place. He tried to swallow the guilt that threatened to choke him again.

“How? He's not a mage.” Rook reached for his hand as she spoke, attempting to soothe his tension.

“I don't know but… something’s not right.” He sighed, squeezing her fingers in his. “And…” He closed his eyes, this was the part he was dreading. He felt Rook pulling him closer.

“Hey, it’s okay.” She tried to embrace him, but she took a sharp breath as she leaned forward. He hurried to stop her, pressing her back gently.

“It’s not okay. You shouldn’t be comforting me, Rook.” He felt his own breath catch as he met her eyes, she looked terribly sad. “Illario nearly… I let him hurt you.” She followed his gaze as he looked down at her bandaged abdomen.

“I… don’t really remember that.” She reached for the bandages, and he grabbed her wrist, stopping her. 

“You can’t touch that. You’re still healing. He stabbed you. It was… bad.” Lucanis had replayed it a hundred times in his head. He could still see it when he closed his eyes, he could still hear her screaming.

Rook was watching him, her eyes roaming his face in familiar observation. He always wondered what exactly she was looking for, it was an odd, disarming habit she seemed to indulge in with everyone. “I don’t think you would ever let anyone hurt me. We both made a mistake, that’s all.”

Lucanis wanted to grab her by the shoulders and shake her. He wanted to demand that she be angry or frightened, be anything but the soft, understanding thing that she was. The exact way Viago had warned him she would be. It was terrible, that one of the qualities that made her so wonderful also made her so vulnerable.

There was a knock at the door, and he turned to look as it swung open, revealing Viago and Emmrich. Lucanis wondered if he had looked as shell shocked as Viago currently did. “You… weren’t supposed to be awake yet.” Viago stared at Rook as he spoke, as if he was unsure she really was awake. She scowled at him in response. 

“Well, I’ll go back to sleep if you're planning to yell at me about it.” Lucanis was surprised at Rook’s clipped tone, until he remembered she hadn’t spoken to Viago since their last fight. If Viago noticed, he clearly didn't care. He moved into the room, and Lucanis quickly scrambled out of Viago's way as he rushed the bed, similarly to how Lucanis had done. “What are you-” Rook yelped as Viago embraced her much harder than necessary. He winced, but shook his head at Emmrich, who looked like he might say something.

“You are a horrible, stupid, little brat.” Viago’s words were slightly muffled against Rook’s hair, but they could still hear him quite clearly. “What did I tell you at the funeral? What do I always tell you about being careful?” His voice was stern, but he was rocking her like a child as he spoke, his grip never faltering. Rook squirmed, but Viago only adjusted to better hold her as he perched on the edge of the bed. “You could have died. And then I would have killed you.” Rook ceased her wiggling, apparently giving up as Viago delivered the most insult laden expression of affection that Lucanis had ever heard.

“Is that meant to be comforting?” Emmrich raised his eyebrows at Lucanis, and he nodded, smiling grimly.

“For Viago? Yes. Have you let the others know she’s awake?” Emmrich nodded.

“I’ve sent correspondence back to the lighthouse, yes. It’s my hope that she’ll be fit enough to travel back with us tomorrow afternoon.” Emmrich’s response caught Viago’s attention, and he turned back to them, finally releasing Rook.

“She cannot travel. Rook will remain here at the Diamond.” Viago was scowling fiercely at at Emmrich, who sighed, crossing his arms. This was an ongoing argument between them, and Lucanis wasn’t sure who he agreed with. Emmrich wanted Rook back at the lighthouse, where he believed she would recover comfortably under the supervision of the team. Viago wanted her to remain at the Diamond, where he could oversee her care personally, and had the resources of the Crows at his disposal. 

Lucanis did believe Rook would be happier at the lighthouse, and he knew the care she received from their team would rival Viago’s. However, he also understood Viago’s stance on the matter, and it was Crow healers who had gotten her this far, for the most part. “Perhaps we can revisit this issue tomorrow.” He didn’t want them to start arguing in front of Rook, not when she was still so fragile. 

“Perhaps.” Viago scoffed, and Lucanis gave Emmrich an apologetic shrug as the Fifth Talon turned his back on them. “How are you feeling?” He was addressing Rook again, his voice softer. Lucanis had a feeling this would take some time, and he wanted to give Viago and Rook the space they needed.

“Emmrich and I will go prepare a meal.” Viago waved him off dismissively, removing his gloves as he rummaged through an array of potions and salves in the drawers of the side table. He spared one last look at Rook, alive and awake, before leading Emmrich out of the room.

—

“Do you remember it?” Rook knew Viago would ask this eventually. He’d already gotten through a litany of questions about if she felt feverish, how bad her pain was, where the pain was, and a number of other invasive questions about her general condition. It reminded her of a time when she'd been quite ill as a teenager, and he was convinced it was some obscure poison that she’d somehow fallen victim to. His overbearing ‘care’ had been more miserable than the illness itself as he subjected her to different remedies and monitored her like a science experiment.

“No.” It wasn’t entirely true, but it also wasn’t entirely a lie. She remembered fragments, but the bits she did remember were unpleasant, and she didn’t make a habit of recalling unpleasant things. Viago appeared displeased with this answer.

“What do you remember?” He continued to press her, and she desperately wanted Lucanis to come back. He'd said they were getting food, and her hunger combined with Viago’s endless questioning was making her cranky. 

“What does it matter?” She didn’t usually snap so easily, especially at Viago, but lingering irritation plagued her from their last argument. Rook had forgiven Harding, and in fact no longer blamed her at all for her deception, but that good will didn’t extend to Viago, who had orchestrated the entire thing.

Viago seemed to notice her irritation for the first time, and he scowled at her. “Why are you behaving like this?” He gestured at her with one hand, as though her behavior were a physical thing that sat between them.

“Like what?” She pulled at a loose thread in the blanket, refusing to meet his stare.

“Like that. You’re being more difficult than usual.” Rook deeply resented the implication that she was usually difficult to any degree, and she was feeling especially bold.

“You’re the only one who finds me difficult. Most other people like me.” Viago made a disapproving noise in the back of his throat, and Rook pulled harder at the loose thread, winding it around one finger.

“Other people are not responsible for you. And besides, finding you difficult has nothing to do with liking you.” Viago was dismissive, and for whatever reason, that made Rook angrier. She wanted a fight.

“Maybe I’m less ‘difficult' for people who don't lie to me.” She could see Viago’s jaw tensing, ready to lose his temper. “And other people are responsible for me, all the time.” That did the trick, and the string she'd wound around her finger snapped at almost the exact same moment as the Fifth Talon.

“And look what happened!” Viago raised his voice, gesturing at her bandages. “Lucanis drags you back to the Diamond, half-dead, soaked in your own blood, and I clean up the mess.” Rook was prepared for him to say something callous, cruel maybe. But there was an emotional edge to his voice that she wasn't prepared for, this was more than mere anger. “You may not like it, Rook, but I am not ‘other people.’ I will lie to you. I will piss you off. I will find you difficult, and I will tell you when you are being stupid, regardless of whether or not you want to hear it. And do you know why?”

She wasn't sure if she was actually supposed to answer him, and so she stared at him mutely instead. “Because I would do anything for you. We are family, you and I.” Rook felt her throat tighten as Viago spoke. “Even if it makes you angry, even if you decide to hate me for it. Understand? If it's an apology you want, you won’t get one. I am not sorry for that.” She held his gaze, processing his words as he stared her down. Then, she leaned forward, closing her eyes as she rested her forehead on his shoulder. Viago released a heavy sigh, as though he'd been holding his breath.

“I don’t hate you, Viago. And, I think you’re difficult, too.” Rook wouldn't say she loved him, it wasn't who they were, at least, not with each other. But this was close enough, and she knew he understood by the way his hand came to rest on her back. She was still hurt, and she knew he would likely hurt her again. They would fight, and probably say terrible things to each other at some point in the future. But it would always come down to this; they did love each other, however fractured and dysfunctional that love was. Her mind drifted to Illario, and she leaned harder against Viago.

“I didn’t… Whatever Illario is like, Lucanis is his family. I didn’t really think he would hurt him, and then…” She swallowed hard, she couldn't picture it. No matter how angry she was, she couldn't imagine a force that would compel her to betray somebody she loved so deeply. She had allowed that assumption to color her judgement, and left herself vulnerable at a critical moment. “I remember that he did something to Lucanis, he hurt him. I went after him,  just to… to get him away. And then it gets… fuzzy. Everything hurt, that’s all I can remember.” 

Viago shifted, and she lifted her head from his shoulder. For the first time, she noticed how incredibly tired he looked. “That matches what your friend said. Lucanis as well. When he arrived with you…” Viago shook his head, his eyes distant. “I thought you might have been dead already. And the last time we spoke, that last thing I would’ve said…” He refocused, his eyes drifting to her bandaged stomach again. “Illario’s actions were unjustified. I cannot overlook it. I will wait to see what Lucanis wants to do, but this can't go unpunished, Rook. Illario must answer for this. And I’m sure he knows it.” 

Viago stood up, patting her on the head like a dog as he did. “We can discuss it tomorrow. I’m going to find Lucanis for you. Perhaps he got lost looking for your meal.” Rook smiled at that, she really was starving, and she watched Viago leave impatiently.

Chapter Text

Rook was alone now for the first time since she'd woken up, and she sat forward carefully, testing the limits of her movement. She could see a pajama shirt just out of reach, and she wanted it. It was far too chilly to be sitting in nothing but a breast band and pajama pants.

She swung her legs over the side of the bed carefully, and tried to push herself to her feet. Her knees gave out almost immediately, and she was surprised at how fatigued she felt as she sank to the floor, one hand still gripping the bed. The attempt had left her dizzy, but she wanted that shirt, and she would crawl if she had to. Rook shuffled along the floor until she reached the end of the bed, where the shirt was folded on an ottoman. She grabbed it and began unbuttoning it triumphantly, unsure if she would be able to raise her arms above her head to pull it on without pain.

Rook had just gotten her arms in the sleeves when she heard the door open, followed by the soft click as it closed again. She turned to look over her shoulder, expecting that she would need to ask Lucanis or Viago for help getting back into the bed, and froze mid-button. Illario was leaning against the door, watching her where she sat on the floor with an unsettling calmness. She blinked, wondering for a brief moment if she was hallucinating.

“Rook, so good to see you alive and well.” His voice was smooth and low, and she didn't miss him lock the door as he stepped further in to approach her, he was very real. “I felt terrible after our little accident back at the Chantry.” She watched him carefully, remaining very still as he knelt in front of her. She felt like prey, completely at his mercy. The only thing she could do was wait and see what he wanted, and try to talk her way through this.

“I only… I only just woke up. Viago went to get me food.” Rook tried to twist her fear into something different, something that could help her. Illario nodded, his eyes drifting from her face down to her open shirt and her heavily bandaged stomach. 

“I understand. You must be feeling very... confused.” He met her eyes again, smiling with false warmth. “After everything that happened, Lucanis being possessed by a demon… Emotions ran very high. I’m so glad your injuries weren't more severe.” He reached for the bandage, and she couldn't suppress her flinch. He paused, but his smile never wavered, despite the coldness of his eyes. “Only taking a look, querida.”

It wasn't as though she could stop him, she couldn't even stand. Rook saw him slip a small blade out from one pocket, and he pulled the bandage towards him as he slipped the knife between the gauze and her skin. The steel was cold, and she remained rigid as he slowly cut through the material. She didn’t watch, remaining focused on his face instead. He clicked his tongue as the last of the bandaging fell away, mock concern lining his features. She gritted her teeth as he ran his fingers along her bruised skin, pressing hard enough for it to hurt, but not enough for her to react.

“All this damage, the result of a simple misunderstanding.” He stopped his prodding, and shifted away from her, but the relief was short lived. “Let’s get you back into bed.” He didn't give her chance to protest, and she gasped in pain as he pulled her to her feet. It was too fast, the sudden change in posture from sitting to standing hurt badly, leaving her with no choice but to grab hold of him for support. “Poor thing.” His words were in sharp contrast with his actions as he hauled her back to the bed, and she bit her lip to keep from crying out.

He hadn't killed her yet, clearly he wanted something, but he seemed to be enjoying the power he currently held over her, dragging it out. “I do hope all of this doesn’t affect our relationship, Rook.” He sat beside her on the bed, pulling her legs over his lap as she tried to catch her breath. “I would hate for this to cause problems between our Houses. Viago already has so much on his plate.” She tensed at Viago’s name, and he must have seen the change in her. He leaned closer, too close, but she was trapped between him and the pillows, there was nowhere to go and he knew it. 

“House De Riva has so many enemies already. Antaam, Venatori, rival Houses…” His eyes burned into hers. The threat was heavy handed, he couldn’t be clearer without outright holding a blade to her throat. But it worked, he wanted to frighten her and she was scared. Viago was balancing danger on all sides, and he wasn’t invincible, no matter how it felt to her. Was Rook confident that Illario couldn't get to him, if he really wanted to? She wondered if this was how Lucanis had felt, leaving Illario behind in Treviso while knowing there was a threat on his life. Illario was waiting for her to respond, and she dropped her gaze to her lap, submitting.

“It won’t be a problem. I’m sure Viago will… I’ll tell him it was a mistake.” She couldn't hide her fear now, there was barely any pretense left between them, they both knew what was going on. Now, he was just toying with her.

“A mistake, hm… not quite. You’ll tell him that my cousin is an abomination. And in the chaos of the demon taking control, you got caught in the middle.” She nodded her agreement, her gaze still fixed in her lap.

***

“Very good. Now that that’s cleared up,” Illario reached for her face, tipping her chin back and forcing her to meet his eyes again, “I’ve been wondering for a while now… Is my cousin fucking you?” Her breath caught, her cheeks flushing as tears pricked her eyes. He never raised his voice, still speaking in that smooth, conversational tone, as if he was discussing the weather with a friend. His smile widened, he was clearly enjoying this act of humiliating her, and she burned with anger.

“I knew it. No wonder he gets so prickly about you.” He crowded her against the bed. She tried to turn her head, but he held tight, his hand squeezing her jaw hard enough to bruise. 

“Stop touching me.” Rook snapped, tired of playing his game. She'd already relented, he’d gotten what he wanted and there was no point in playing pretend any further. His smile dropped.

“Don't you know what little Crows like you have to do, in this situation?” She tried to shove him away, but she was still weak, and he saw it coming. He grabbed her by the hair, yanking her head back as he forced his fingers into her stitches, and she choked on the pain. “You have to play nice. You do what you’re told, and you survive. Those are the rules. Viago didn’t do you any favors by failing to teach you that.” She was still fighting back tears, and she bit her tongue, unable to trust herself to say anything that wouldn’t get her into deeper trouble. She glanced at the door, and Illario chuckled lowly, following her gaze.

“Hoping your Talon will come and save you soon? Or maybe it’s my cousin you want.” He finally released the pressure against her wound, and she could feel blood beginning to drip down into the waistband of her pants. He ran his fingers through the gore, smearing it against her stomach as her skin crawled under his touch. “We’re almost finished, I promise.”

Rook gasped as he reached into her pants, and she clawed at his wrist as the tears finally spilled over. “Don’t. Please, you don’t… You don't have to-” She was terrified now, and he knew it.

“No, I don’t have to do anything. But you do. Convince me that I can trust you, cooperate.” He dug his nails into her inner thigh, the sharp blossom of pain almost distracting her as he waited for her answer. She nodded, trying to control her breathing. “Good. Lucanis likes obedient girls, you know.” He was back to that light, conversational tone again. Rook suppressed a whimper and tried to squeeze her thighs together as he forced his bloodied fingers between her legs. She didn’t want this, she didn’t want him. His other hand was still painfully locked in her hair, and he pulled her head back even further. Her tears leaked into her ears as he pressed painfully against her, the blood doing very little to ease the fact that she was completely dry. He pulled his hand back, and she almost breathed a sigh of relief, until he leaned in so close she could feel his breath on her lips. “Pretend I’m him. I want to see what all the fuss is about, so act like you mean it, querida.” 

It was the only warning he gave her, and she almost bit him on reflex when he kissed her, barely restraining herself. Illario didn’t show the same restraint, catching her bottom lip in his teeth and biting hard enough to draw blood. He was as rough with his tongue as he was with his fingers, forcing his way into her mouth almost immediately. She couldn’t bring herself to reciprocate, she was too focused on not vomiting, but she didn’t fight him. Even when he slid his hand up under her breast band, grasping at her hard enough to hurt, she managed to keep still. His nails dug into her again, he wanted a reaction, and she whined as he dragged them across the sensitive skin of her breasts, pinching hard. When he finally broke away, she gasped for air. She was actively sobbing now, unable to stop herself.

“Hm, poor effort Rook. Can't say I see the appeal, now that I've had a taste.” The bed creaked as he shifted, resting his arm over her thighs in his lap.

***

She was ready to try begging again, or maybe just die trying to fight him off, when the sound of the door handle rattling drew both their attention. Rook froze, and Illario drew his blade, holding it to her throat in a silent warning. 

“Rook? It’s me. Why is the door locked?” Viago’s voice, exasperated and fully unaware of her situation. Illario had taunted her with the prospect of her Talon rescuing her, but now that he was actually here, he’d gone rigid. He loosened his hold on Rook’s hair, just enough for her to tilt her head forward again to meet his gaze. Answer, he mouthed the instruction to her, the edge of his blade still biting into her throat.

“I…” Rook’s voice was hoarse with tears, pain, and fear. She searched Illario’s face, unsure what he wanted her to say. The corner of his mouth twitched up in amusement, and she could see his wheels turning.

“Be honest, you have a visitor.” He breathed out a whisper. Rook’s stomach twisted painfully, she didn’t like this at all.

“I have a visitor.” She gritted it out, and there was a beat of silence. Viago must have heard the strain in her voice, she wasn’t even trying to mask her distress. 

“A… visitor.” He responded carefully back to her, and she made herself a promise at that moment. She would not allow Illario to use her against Viago, she would let him kill her first. Viago was her Talon, her family, and her loyalty would live and die with him.

“Illario is here.” She stared him down, half expecting him to cut her throat, but his smirk only widened. He removed the blade from her neck, sheathing it as he watched her.

“Rook and I are just sharing a private moment, Viago. Talking things out.” Illario called to Viago through the door, his eyes never leaving Rook’s as she studied him. She didn’t know what he was planning, and she bristled as his gaze drifted down her chest. “I’d let you in, but your Crow is… indisposed. I’d hate for you to catch her in a compromising position. That would be terribly awkward for-”

Illario didn’t get to finish his sentence. There was a deafening crack, and the wooden door splintered under what Rook could only assume was Viago’s boot as he broke it down. Illario recovered quickly, dragging Rook with him as he bolted to the other end of the room. He looped an arm around her waist, his fingers again pressing painfully against her torn stitches as he held her against his chest, unlatching the window with his other hand. Viago froze as he forced his way into the room, taking in the scene.

Rook could barely stand, held painfully upright by Illario’s arm, and she was growing increasingly dizzy as her wound continued to drip. Viago’s expression was impassive, but she could see the tension in his jaw as his gaze drifted from her, to Illario, to the now open window. “Rook is not quite well enough for visitors, I’m afraid. As you can see, her stitches have come open.” Viago was clearly more familiar with Illario’s game than Rook had been, and she was hit with another wave of nausea. She wasn’t entirely sure she could do another one of these little dances.

Viago must have seen it in her eyes, and when he spoke again, his tone was much harsher. “You should go, Illario. Before your cousin arrives. You know Lucanis is nowhere near as… understanding, as I am.” Rook couldn’t see Illario’s face, but she could feel him tense, something was clearly not going according to plan, whatever that plan had been. But his voice was still silky smooth when he responded, and she cringed as he wound a lock of her hair around his fingers, still caked with her blood.

“You’re probably right. Your wisdom serves your House well, Fifth Talon.” He sneered the title, but otherwise continued pleasantly. “Rook and I have already finished our little chat. I’m sure she can clear up any further questions in my stead. I’ll see myself out.” Illario leaned in close, his breath hot against Rook’s ear, and Viago’s fingers twitched, hovering over his blade as he watched.

“Perhaps we can continue this some other time. Take care, querida.” With that, he gave Rook a hard shove, sending her staggering into Viago as he rushed forward to catch her. Illario darted out the window, disappearing into the night just as quickly as he had arrived. Viago eased Rook to the floor, and she sat forward on her knees, trying to catch her breath.

“Hang on.” She barely heard his gruff comment as he ran past her to the window. He leaned out into the cool night air, confirming that Illario was truly gone before pulling the window closed and re-latching it.

Rook sat on the floor where he had left her in a daze before leaning forward on her hands and retching. She had nothing in her stomach, only bile came up, but she continued to heave until her throat burned and the muscles of her stomach screamed in protest. Viago was back at her side, and she flinched involuntarily as he rested a hand on her back. “What’s the matter? Did he give you something?” Typical Viago, his mind always went to poison.

She wanted to laugh, to tell him he was stupid and ridiculous and that Illario had not poisoned her. But then, the full force of what he had done instead hit her, and her lungs constricted painfully as her tears began anew. “Viago.” His name was all she could get out, a raw and desperate plea. Something shifted in his expression, and his eyes went soft as he pulled her into his arms, cradling her against his chest.

“Qué te duele, mi Urracacita?” He hadn’t called her that in years. Urraca was the plucky fledgling Viago had trained, and then the young Crow he relied on. Rook was who she was now, who Varric had helped her to become. But long before any of that, she was simply Viago’s Urracacita. The child he brought home with him from Ventus, who played underneath his desk and snuck into his room at night. She hadn’t been that little girl in a long time, nor had Viago been that Crow. The one who rocked her, the one who read stories aloud and sang her to sleep.

But as Rook sat there on the floor with him, sore and bleeding, she felt as unclean and lost as the day she had met him. Memories she hadn’t touched for years were at the forefront of her mind, past scars that had long since gathered dust were raw and fresh again in the wake of Illario. She was torn between the instinct to lash out and survive, and the desire for somebody to simply step in and rescue her. Viago had been that savior, once. And so, she collapsed against him and wept.