My Little Songbird

by LadyLiddell

Summary:

Rook has always had a way with spirits, and during his time in the Grand Necropolis he developed a fondness for them. He wants to help them find balance between the Fade and the waking world, and that includes Spite. Soon he realizes he's feeling emotions he's never felt before as the demon grows more and more obsessed with him. It helps that his host is handsome and charming in his own ways. After a harrowing experience changes Rook forever, can the three of them find a balance with each other?

(Transmasc human Mourn Watch Rook; has had top surgery but not bottom)

Notes:

Hi! It's been years since I've tried writing a multi-chapter fic, but beating Veilguard has reinvigorated that writing itch. I'm posting these as I finish them, so I apologize for any typos!

My Rook is a trans man who has embraced his femininity. (He's an OC that's incredibly important to me originally from another fandom. He has grown into his own separate character here, and I love him just as much!)

Spite's pronouns here are he/it/they.

Chapter 1: Smells Like... Incense and Bone Dust

Summary:

Rook attempts to calm Spite down; Spite throws a tantrum anyway; Rook has questions for Solas.

“Rook, do something!” Harding demanded in a desperate tone.

Rook’s eyes darted from the dwarf standing beside him, to the Qunari Warrior in front of the Eluvian, to the possessed assassin who had his back to him. Even though he was used to dealing with mischievous spirits in the Mourn Watch, he still felt an anxious wave run through him at the prospect of getting this wrong and hurting Lucanis. He’d never met a spirit like this before.

“Spite.” He said softly, raising his hands in front of him as if approaching a frightened animal.

Hearing Rook’s voice say his name, the demon turned quickly. A wide grin spread across Lucanis’ features as those bright violet eyes stared at the mage before him. “Rook.” Its voice was a strange distortion of Lucanis’ own and something more gravely, monstrous even. It inhaled deeply. “Smells like incense and bone dust.”

It sent a shiver down Rook’s spine. Still, he was determined to figure out what this spirit wanted. To talk to him, find a way to soothe him like he had many other spirits in the Necropolis. He took a small step forward, his hands still raised. “Where are you trying to go?”

The demon growled. “Out! Need out!”

“You can’t go out by yourself. It’s dangerous.” Rook said calmly. It would be easier to know how to appease it if he knew what the spirit was before being twisted into Spite. He made a mental note to ask Lucanis about it later.

“No!” Spite snapped, taking an aggressive step towards Rook that made the other two in the room tense. Taash looked like they were prepared to pounce on Lucanis and pin him down to the ground if needed. “We had! A deal!”

It didn’t seem like Spite was going to let go control of Lucanis easily. Rook had another idea if words didn’t work, but he was nervous to try it. He hadn’t shared this talent with his companions yet, and if it didn’t work he would just appear foolish. Still, it was better than risking the Crow getting hurt. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

“Shadows fall… and hope has fled…” Rook began to sing.

Harding turned to him in surprise, immediately recognizing the song. Taash’s face scrunched in confusion. Spite’s attention was focused entirely on Rook. Good.

“Steel your heart… the dawn will come…” As the mage continued his song, he took tentative steps towards Spite. “The night is long… and the path is dark…”

Lucanis’ body relaxed. Spite’s angry expression fell into one of curiosity, and its eyes locked with Rook’s. It was working, but they still needed Lucanis back.

“Look to the sky… for one day soon…” Rook had reached close enough to gingerly touch Lucanis’ forearm, not breaking eye contact with Spite. “The dawn will come…”

Violet eyes blinked, and when they opened again they were back to that deep brown of Lucanis’ own. “What… Rook?” The assassin’s eyes darted from Rook’s face, to the fingers delicately placed on his arm, then at the room around him. “Taash?” Realization hit him then, and his gaze dropped to the floor. “Ah…”

“You… tried to walk through the Eluvian in your sleep.” Harding offered as explanation. 

“Spite wanted out.” Taash added. “Rook sang you awake. Or… something.”

Lucanis raised an eyebrow at the Qunari and then looked back at his leader. “What?”

Rook felt his face flush, and he quickly withdrew his hand to brush it through his white hair. “I… It’s a talent I have. Back in the Necropolis I discovered that when I sang or played music, it had a… soothing effect on spirits. I was hoping it might work on Spite, too.”

Lucanis stared at Rook in awe. It was enough to make the mage glance away in embarrassment. The one who broke the silence, however, was Taash. “Wait, you could do that this whole time? Why don’t you do it when we fight demons? Would save us a lot of work.”

“It’s kinda hard to sing when you’re dodging claws and fireballs.” Rook replied as he placed his hands on his hips. “And… I don’t really like to… sing in front of people.” He admitted quietly, suddenly very interested in his boots.

“But your voice is great!” Harding insisted, which didn’t exactly ease Rook’s embarrassment.

He heard Lucanis sigh. “I need coffee…”

Grateful for the shift in topic, Rook looked back up at the Crow with a small laugh. “You can’t just caffeinate your way out of this.”

“It’s hard for Spite to take control while I’m awake, so I try to stay awake.”

Rook’s face fell to a look of concern. He felt the urge to reach out and touch Lucanis again, but held himself back. 

Harding spoke up before the mage could. “You can’t just stay awake forever. I think that would kill you.”

“I’ll be more careful next time.” Lucanis seemed to be brushing off this incident like it was just another day for him. Though, Rook supposed it was now.

“Lucanis…” There was a lot Rook wanted to say, but he wasn’t sure where to start. “We have to make Spite understand that he’s endangering you. Maybe I can–”

Lucanis cut him off. “He’s ‘Spite’, not ‘Learning’. He doesn’t listen to anyone.”

“He listened to Rook’s song.” Taash interjected with crossed arms.

That made Lucanis hesitate, but he shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. This won’t happen again.” He looked now to Rook with an unreadable expression. “And… thanks.” He said and then moved to head back into the Lighthouse.

---

“Go back. To Rook!” Spite demanded once Lucanis was back in the pantry he called his room. “Want to hear him. Sing. Again.”

Lucanis tried to ignore the demon, instead focusing on inhaling the rich aroma of his freshly brewed coffee. After the incident in the Eluvian room, Spite seemed to have gone dormant long enough for the Crow to brew a fresh pot and lock himself away again. It was quite nice for how short it was.

Spite growled as it glared at Lucanis and stomped its feet with each word. “I. Want. Rook!”

That phrasing made the Crow pause mid sip. He finally turned his attention to the demon with a sharp look. “Rook is not some toy, especially not for you.”

The demon grinned and blinked out of existence only to reappear kneeling beside Lucanis as he sat on the cot, their faces close together. “But he could be.”

The Crow recoiled from Spite and continued to glower at it. “What are you talking about?” He knew he shouldn’t indulge it, but sometimes he couldn't help it.

“Rook could be ours.” Spite said, his grin widening more than what would have been physically possible on Lucanis’ own face. “We could. Make him sing for us. Only us.”

If he could push the demon away physically, he would have. He didn’t like that look in its eyes, hungry and yearning as if leering at an extensive buffet after a fast. “Rook is off limits.” Lucanis stated in a firm tone.

“No!” Spite roared and threw a potato across the room. It seemed like it was at least able to interact with small physical objects while in the Fade, a fact that was not a good sign for these tantrums. Or the potatoes.

“Say ‘no’ all you want, it’s not going to change anything.” Lucanis closed his eyes and took a long sip of his coffee. He expected another outburst, but it was suspiciously quiet the whole time. When he opened his eyes again, the demon was gone. A sigh of relief escaped him and he rubbed his temple with his free hand. “Mierda… ”

---

Rook watched the fish swimming peacefully from the “windows” of his room. He wondered if they were real fish or just a projection of the memory of fish. Either way they were a pleasant distraction from his own thoughts. It had been embarrassing to sing in front of Taash and Harding, let alone Lucanis. Though, Lucanis didn’t remember it, so that was some small blessing.

Spite worried Rook, not just about it hurting Lucanis, but about the spirit itself. It was thrust into this situation against its will just like Lucanis was, and it barely seemed to understand the waking world around it. Without a gentle hand to guide it, it’s grown wild and unpredictable. If only Lucanis would let him talk to Spite. This was his specialty, after all! But he understood why the assassin had trepidations. Still… for one moment he felt a spark of a connection when he sang. If he could hold onto that, maybe he could help both human and spirit. If they couldn’t separate, they at least deserved peace together.

Rook closed his eyes, his thoughts still on Lucanis and Spite as he drifted into unconsciousness.

“This is unexpected.” An annoyingly familiar voice caught his attention.

The mage’s eyes opened and he found himself once again standing in that washed-out wasteland that housed the Dreadwolf. He frowned and crossed his arms. “I didn’t mean to come here.”

With that same smug expression as always, Solas raised an eyebrow. “Did you not? Your mind must have been burning with questions to bring you here on its own accord.”

He supposed that was true and shrugged. “Okay… I do have some questions, actually. About spirits.”

This caught the Dread Wolf’s attention, and he tilted his head slightly. “Oh?”

“Varric told me you were an expert on spirits.” He started, noting the slight flash of regret on the elf’s face at the mention of his old companion. “Is there a way to turn a demon back into the spirit it once was?”

This question actually gave Solas pause, and he hummed in thought. “In all my years I haven’t found a solution to that that doesn’t end in death. Once a spirit has been twisted from its original purpose, the only way to free it would be to end its misery and let it be reborn anew.”

“Varric said you and the Inquisitor did once, though. A spirit of Wisdom twisted into Pride by mages.”

A flash of anger shone in the Wolf’s eyes, and then… grief. He glanced away as he responded. “We did… briefly, but the Spirit’s form still faded after the battle was done. It would not remember our friendship in its new life, but at least it could be at peace again.”

Rook deflated with that news. He was studying this very thing in the Necropolis, wanting to see if his unique magic could do what other mages could not. To hear it was impossible from a mage so ancient he predated the Veil itself… was more than a bit disheartening. “One more question, then. Is it possible… to sever a possession without hurting either party?”

“You speak of your assassin and the demon inside him?” Solas asked with a knowing look.

Rook nodded. “If Spite and Lucanis were separated… well, maybe I could then work with Spite directly to help him. Even if I can’t turn him back to what he once was… I don’t know, I just want to help.”

“Your compassion for spirits is… refreshing.” Solas admitted, his expression softening. “If Lucanis had been a mage under normal possession, then yes I believe there would be a way to free them both. However, Spite was physically dragged out of the Fade and placed in a living body. There is no going back from that.”

Even more bad news, then. Rook sighed and ran both his hands through his hair. “Great, looks like it’s onto Plan C. Or… D… maybe E–I lost count.”

“And… what would that be?”

“Talk with them both and help them find common ground.” Rook answered in a determined tone. This was the plan now, and he was going to stick to it whether they liked it or not. “If they’re stuck together like this, they should both be able to find peace.”

“Find peace with a demon?” Solas prompted, though not in a tone that suggested he didn’t believe it was possible. More like, he was testing Rook’s resolve.

“In the Mourn Watch we don’t use that word. I may slip now and again from being away for so long, but in the Necropolis there are only spirits. Sometimes the spirits just need help finding themselves again.”

The Dread Wolf actually smiled. “If anyone could find a way, I believe you could.” He said as he and the scenery around them faded into white.

Notes:

Song: The Dawn Will Come (Inquisition)

If anyone is curious, here's my Rook:
https://bsky.app/profile/ladyliddell.bsky.social/post/3lh6kzfk7f22v

Chapter 2: Smells Like... Oak Wood and Lilacs

Summary:

Rook wants to clear his head with some late night piano, but draws the attention of a certain demon.

Notes:

Please enjoy! It took a bit to figure out what I wanted to write next, but I'm back in the groove!

It felt like Rook hadn’t been able to rest since coming to the Lighthouse. From recruiting Lucanis and Davrin, to having to choose between Treviso and Minrathous, to finally recruiting a dragon hunter and a fellow Necromancer from the Watch. Everything seemed to happen all at once. He tried to divide his time equally between his companions, making sure they were comfortable in the Lighthouse and joining them on small excursions if they asked, but that left little time for himself.

So when he was able to solve the puzzle to open the music room, Rook was elated. It took some time to clean it out, but once he made sure the piano was still in tune (it was, surprisingly) he found himself there more often than not when sleep eluded him. It was nice to have a space for himself outside of the meditation chamber.

After a particularly long day of exploring Arlathan with Bellara and Harding, Rook found himself again unable to sleep. His mind wandered to all the choices he’d made so far. Bringing down the statue on Solas, choosing to follow Lucanis to Treviso and fight the dragon there instead of the one in Minrathous, and even further back his actions that lead him to being sent away from the Mourn Watch and into Varric’s team. He could be back at the Necropolis studying Spirits, maybe even under Emmrich’s tutelage, instead of having the weight of blighted elven gods on his shoulders.

With a grunt, he pushed himself up from the green chaise he was using as a bed and spun his legs around so he could stand. The floor chilled his bare feet, but he didn’t mind the cold. The Grand Necropolis was always a little cold. He thought about throwing on a shirt since he slept in only some loose cotton pants, but decided against it. Most of the others would be asleep anyway.

The Lighthouse main room was quiet, aside from the loud snoring occasionally coming from Taash’s room. Rook smiled and carefully made his way down the stairs and into the stone hallway that led into the music room.

---

Lucanis had let his eyes droop for just a moment, but that was enough. In an instant they were open again and glowing with an eerie violet light. The demon grinned and quickly made its way out of the pantry. No dwarf or qunari in sight to stop them this time. This time they would escape like the Crow had promised. Even if they had to do it themselves.

The courtyard was empty, with even Assan curled up asleep in Davrin’s room. Being in the Fade in this state was still an odd sensation. It’s like Spite both was and wasn’t there. Limited to Lucanis’ body even though it should be free to shape itself and the world around it as it willed. It was enough to drive a spirit mad. Through the doors into the Lighthouse proper and just a little further until the Eluvian, until freedom.

Before it could even reach the stairs, however, something stopped the demon in its tracks. There was a soft melody coming from the rounded doorway to its right. Beautiful notes that enticed it closer, and as it did they also heard a faint humming. Excitement shivered through Lucanis’ body. “Rook.”

The door to the room was open just a crack, so Spite was able to quietly push it open and peek their head inside. Soft light streamed in from the windows, bathing the room in an almost ethereal aura. Wisps of Curiosity floated around the room in time with the music, almost as if they were dancing. In the center of this scene was an elegant grand piano, and seated in front of it with his eyes closed and gently humming along with the melody he was playing, was Rook.

Slowly, eyes never leaving the mage, Spite stepped into the room. When the wisps noticed its presence they stopped their dance and vanished into the walls, leaving just Spite and Rook alone in this place. Perfect.

Rook was lost in the music, his expression peaceful and his fingers moving effortlessly across the keys. Spite had never seen a sight like this, had never felt a pull towards someone like this. It was strange, but exciting. They stopped just behind Rook, watching in silence until he stopped playing.

Rook took a deep breath when he had finished the song and opened his eyes. He stared down at the keys, lost in thought but expression still serene. Spite wanted to touch him. To hear that voice again. He reached out and brushed Lucanis’ fingers down the mage’s bare spine.

The reaction was instantaneous. Rook tensed and whirled around, a ball of necrotic energy in his hand. The piano stool clattered to the ground as he stood, ready to defend himself from… “Luc– Spite?” He corrected himself when he saw those intense glowing eyes staring back at him.

Spite had taken a step back so it wouldn’t be hit, but otherwise looked quite amused. “Didn’t mean to scare.” They said, though their mischievous grin suggested otherwise.

Rook shook his hand to disperse his magic and stood up straight. He wasn’t happy Spite had decided to take another walk on its own, but he also couldn’t exactly blame it. At least it was here with him instead of trying to escape through the Eluvian. “It’s okay. Actually, I’m glad to see you again. We don’t get a lot of time to talk, usually.” He smiled at the spirit.

Violet eyes twinkled. “Yes! Never get to talk to Rook! Never get to hear Rook sing!” It took a step forward, its dominating aura almost making Lucanis’ body feel taller.

The mage couldn’t help the light blush he felt creeping to his face, so he turned his head away to try to hide it. “O-oh. I guess it really does work on you, huh?”

Lucanis’ fingers hooked under Rook’s chin to turn his head back. Spite’s face was close, head tilted and eyes curious. It inhaled deeply. “Smells like… oak wood and lilacs.”

Rook’s soap was infused with lilacs, his favorite flower, and he’d taken a bath just before attempting to retire for the evening. To have Lucanis’ face so close, to have Spite inhaling his scent and looking at him with such interest, it sent the mage’s heart into a frenzy. He took a step back right into the piano and cleared his throat. “Thank you, Spite.” He managed to say in a relatively normal tone. He wanted to keep the demon in a relaxed state like this so maybe he could learn something to help him help them. “So what are… what are you doing here?”

“Told you!” Spite pouted and gave a little frustrated stomp at having to repeat itself. “Want to. Hear Rook sing!”

The mage raised his hands to placate the demon. “Okay, okay. I’ll sing for you. But, um… first can you answer a question?”

“If I do, will Rook sing for me?”

“I promise.” Rook tried to force himself to relax and his heart to stop racing.

Spite grinned and shifted forward, extending his hands to either side of Rook, forcing him back into the piano keys. “Then ask.”

This was almost too much. He’d flirted with Lucanis before, sure, over coffee in Treviso. Honey and lavender cream, the Crow had said a first kiss would taste like. But after that it felt like their flirting was going nowhere. Lucanis just didn’t seem interested in him that way. Did he? What about Spite? Something told him that a first kiss with Spite would be more like cinnamon spice and nutmeg. That thought made him forget his question entirely. “I…” 

Spite waited with a raised eyebrow. It was patient for the moment, but how long would that truly last? Something else flashed in the demon’s eyes and it leaned in closer to Rook. Once again it inhaled deeply, this time moving its face tantalizingly close to the skin of the mage’s neck. “Smells different. Changed. Smells like... Curiosity. Desire. What is Rook’s question?” It practically growled into his throat.

Rook swallowed. He’d had to lift his chin up away from the demon, exposing more of his neck to it. He was leaned back as far into the piano as he could be without sitting on it entirely. “Do you… are you… can you feel desire?” Spite wasn’t a desire demon, he was Spite. Spirits didn’t have such complex emotions as mortals. At least, that’s what Rook had come to believe. Then again, he’d never met a spirit like Spite before.

Spite pulled back enough to look into Rook’s eyes again. It seemed to be contemplating the answer. “Hm, I feel… what Lucanis feels. Different. Frustrating. Complicated.” It answered with a frown. “Much different. When alone in the Fade.”

That answer fascinated Rook, and his brain began to craft multiple theories already. “Truly? Did it start right away, or develop over time as you got used to each other? What does-” He was silenced by a firm finger pressed against his lips.

“Only. One question! You promised! Now sing. ” Spite demanded and then moved their hand away.

That was true, he had promised a song for just one question. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, again willing his heart to calm down so his voice didn’t waiver. “I feel sun… through the ashes in the sky.” He began, “Where's the one… Who'll guide us into the night?”

Spite’s features relaxed, though it didn’t move away. In fact, it almost seemed to inch closer as Rook continued the song.

“What's begun… Is the war that will force this divide…” Rook kept his eyes closed, but he could feel Lucanis’ breath against his skin now. “What’s to come… is fire and the end of time…”

The wisps began to return, cautiously yet irresistibly drawn back by Rook’s voice. They resumed their dance around the two, and as they moved through the light from the windows it seemed to refract through them, sending rainbows dancing across the walls.

“I am the one… Who can recount what we've lost.” Rook took a breath, inhaling the scent of Spite, of Lucanis. “I am the one… Who will live on…”

Spite’s eyes blinked once, twice, then the glow faded and the serene expression on Lucanis’ face turned to confusion and panic. “Rook?!” He practically jumped back away from the mage, nearly tripping on the fallen piano stool.

Rook’s eyes snapped open and he was suddenly keenly aware that he was only half dressed and red faced. “Lucanis? I-it’s fine! You’re fine! I’m fine!” He tried to quickly assure the dazed assassin as he pushed himself up from the piano. “Spite just… wanted to hear me sing again.”

“While being so close?” Lucanis’ eyes scanned the mage’s body for any signs of injury. “If he hurt you-”

“He didn’t!” Rook insisted. “I promise, we just had a little talk.”

Doubt plagued the assassin’s eyes, but after a moment he sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I apologize for Spite bothering you like this. If he ever hurts you, or touches you in any way…”

“He won’t.” Rook replied softly, offering the other man a smile. “You won’t. I trust you.”

Lucanis had to look away from those eyes, those shining deep amber eyes that almost shone red in the right light. “It’s not me you should worry about.” He insisted, but before there could be any more arguments he turned to start walking back to the pantry.

Notes:

I realized while writing this that I may have jumped the gun and started the story a bit later in the timeline than I wanted to, but that's okay. I can work around it and still develop these three how I want to!

Song: I Am the One (Inquisition)

Chapter 3: Smells Like... Garlic and Gravestones

Summary:

Rook talks with Emmrich about his feelings while Spite teases Lucanis about his own.

Notes:

Next chapter will be longer, I promise! It just felt right splitting it here.

“What troubles you, my dear?” Emmrich set his cup of tea down as he watched his fellow Necromancer curiously. “You’ve been distracted all day. I was beginning to think you’d forgotten the rites after so long away from the Necropolis.”

“Hm?” Rook looked up from his untouched cup, now growing cold. “Oh… right, sorry. I guess… I guess there is something that’s been on my mind.”

“You know you can share anything with me, if you’re comfortable.” The older mage smiled warmly, and it did help relax Rook just a little.

“Thanks, Professor…” He sighed and leaned back in his chair. He thought about how he wanted to phrase his thoughts, and in the meantime preoccupied himself with watching Manfred play tag with a wisp. “Have… have you ever encountered a spirit that could embody more than its namesake?”

“How do you mean?”

“Like… I don’t know, I always thought... the emotion the spirit embodies just overpowers anything else they could potentially feel.” He ran his fingers through his hair and looked at Emmrich again.

Emmrich took another sip of his tea as he considered the question. “One thing I’ve learned in all my years studying spirits, is that the more we think we know of them, the less we actually do. I don’t believe that each Spirit can only feel the one emotion that it’s named after, simply that that is what is strongest at their core. Like how an artist is passionate about their work. They can do other things, but painting is what drives them.”

“I see…” Rook had come to similar conclusions before, but before it was just a theory. “I suppose if they couldn’t feel other emotions, they wouldn’t turn into demons. Er… sorry.”

Emmrich shook his head. “I will not fault you for slip ups in your vocabulary, but yes I concur. What prompted this line of thought?”

“I just…” He hesitated. He trusted Emmrich, respected him even. He looked up to the older Necromancer in more ways than one. Still, it felt awkward confessing what had been on his mind since that night in the music room. “If the emotion the spirit is feeling isn’t what could twist it away from its purpose, but it still felt it strongly enough…” He wasn’t even really sure what he was trying to ask anymore. “I guess what I mean is… can spirits fall in love?”

Emmrich eyed the younger mage knowingly before asking, “You are referring to Spite, are you not?”

Rook nearly sputtered out the sip he’d just taken of his tea, and Emmrich offered a handkerchief in apology. “Thanks, um…” He wiped his chin, but couldn’t look the other mage in the eye. “Yeah. I… how’d you know?”

Emmrich chuckled. “I can hear Spite when I’m near Lucanis, you know. Lately all he’s been complaining about is not being around you.”

Rook’s face burned hot and he hid it in his hands. “Oh, Maker…” was all he could say.

Emmrich reached across the table to place a hand on the younger mage’s arm. “You’ll have no judgement from me, Rook. Both Spite and Lucanis are quite the catch, as they say.” He squeezed Rook’s arm in comfort and reclined back again. “As for your question… I don’t know about love, but at the very least it seems Spite has taken quite the shine to you. No doubt Lucanis has as well, if he has any taste.”

Emmrich’s subtle flirting didn’t help Rook’s face feel less hot, but he still couldn’t help but smile. The older mage was still quite handsome, and Rook could listen to him talk about Necromancy for hours. Of course there was an attraction there, but it hadn’t been as serious as what he felt for Lucanis and Spite. “Thanks, Emmrich. It… feels weird admitting I have a crush on a demon.”

“You’ve certainly chosen an intriguing one to have it on.” Emmrich chuckled and took another small sip of tea. “You know, Spite keeps talking about wanting to hear you sing. I heard you had a talent for soothing spirits through song?”

Now Rook felt bashful again, but for different reasons. “Yeah… I discovered it while sweeping here in the Gardens, actually. I was humming to myself to pass the time when suddenly I was surrounded by at least a dozen wisps. When I stopped, they seemed… disappointed, so I started singing out loud and they loved it. I’d never seen anything like it before.”

“Remarkable.” Emmrich replied with genuine awe. “I’ve heard others theorize about channeling magic through music, but never have I heard of such a unique natural talent.”

Rook shifted uncomfortably under the praise, but still tried to smile in appreciation. “It’s… not that impressive, really. All it really seems to do is entertain wisps. I’ve tried to come up with a more practical use for it, but…”

“It worked on Spite.” the senior Necromancer pointed out. “What Spite and Lucanis need is a way to exist together in harmony. As it is, I fear they simply do not trust each other enough. They’ve both been through excruciating year long torment, and that’s not something that can be healed overnight.”

Rook nodded, staring down into his tea. “I want to help them…”

“I believe you can.” Emmrich encouraged with a nod. “Show them patience and compassion, and let them come together on their own.”

---

“You’ve been avoiding Rook.” The demon spat in an accusatory tone as it glared at Lucanis from across the room. “Keeping us from him.”

“For his own good.” Lucanis answered in an even tone as he pulled up the spoon he’d been using to stir his sauce. He gave it a quick blow and tasted it with a hum. “Oregano.” He concluded and reached for the herbs he wanted.

Spite growled. They were sitting cross legged on the table, something that annoyed Lucanis every time they did it. So they kept doing it. “Rook likes us. Likes me. Wants to talk. Wants more, but Lucanis is too scared.” His tone became mocking and sing-songy with that last statement.

The Crow just ignored his goading and continued cooking. He checked the salt levels in his pasta water before adding the freshly made noodles.

In a blur of purple and black the demon moved impossibly fast to stand too close to Lucanis. “Is the Crow. Jealous. For the little Songbird?” It asked with a wicked grin, its lips inches from his ear.

“What?” Lucanis recoiled, nearly flinging the sliced tomato on his spoon into the wall.

“Lucanis. Has not heard Rook sing, but I. Have. ” Spite gloated, “Lucanis. Has not touched Rook, but I. Have.”

That got his full attention. He turned to the demon with a dangerous look in his eyes, wielding the wooden spoon like a dagger. “What do you mean you have touched Rook?” He asked slowly, each word emphasized in anger.

Spite cackled and circled the assassin like a hungry cat. “What do I mean? What do I mean?” It asked, still using that sing-song teasing voice. “Wouldn’t. You. Like to know?”

“Spite.” The word was a warning. The demon had pressed one too many buttons this time. Rook put on the air of confidence and quick wit for the sake of the team, but underneath all of that he was compassionate and timid. If Spite had done something, he might not outright admit it to Lucanis on his own.

The doors to the dining hall swung open suddenly, and Spite was gone. Lucanis quickly turned back to his pot, careful to return his expression back to neutral as if he had not just been about to murder his own inner demon.

“I have no idea where Manfred learned that.” Emmrich was saying in an exasperated tone as he stepped into the dining hall with Rook by his side. “Such a rude gesture, and I don’t think he understands what it means!”

“I’m going to take a wild guess and say it’s Taash’s influence.” Rook laughed, a sound that sent Lucanis’ heart into a backflip. Mierda, when did that start happening?

The Professor sighed and shook his head. “I really should have a talk with them about what they do and say around Manfred. He’s so impressionable.”

As the two mages reached the dining table, Rook inhaled deeply to take in the aroma of Lucanis’ cooking. “That smells amazing, Lucanis!”

The Crow couldn’t help the small smile that made it to his lips at the compliment. He turned to look at Rook, pushing away his worried thoughts. “I should hope so, it’s a Dellamorte family recipe. I am pretty sure I would be disowned if I got it wrong.”

Rook laughed again, and again a wave of warmth flowed through Lucanis. Emmrich glanced between the two knowingly, staying quiet as he sat down at the dining table and watched them with a smile.

“Smells like… garlic and hunger.” Spite was back, which earned a pointed glare from the Crow. It wasn’t talking about the food. The demon was sitting on the table again, across from Emmrich, and staring directly at Lucanis.

Rook glanced where Lucanis’ eyes went, but saw nothing. “I’m guessing Spite’s up and about?” He asked as he turned back.

“When isn’t he?” Lucanis replied with a sigh and shifted his attention back to his cooking so he didn’t burn the sauce.

“Would be out more. If Lucanis ever did. Anything fun.” Spite pouted. “Always so serious. Always brooding.”

Emmrich couldn’t see Spite, but he could hear them and estimate approximately where their voice came from. “Perhaps the three of you could have an outing of your own?” He suggested, which caught all of their attention. “We seem to finally have a lull between world shattering events, I say take advantage while you can.”

“Yes!” Spite grinned and pointed to Emmrich. “I like this one.”

“Thank you, Spite.” Emmrich nodded in appreciation.

Lucanis seemed hesitant. “I’m… not so sure…” he started to protest, but then his eyes met Rook’s. The young mage looked at him with such excitement and hope that he couldn’t bear to finish his sentence. “Perhaps… it has been a while since I’ve had Café Pietra’s coffee.”

“It’s a date!” Rook said with a wink, his tone on the edge of joking and flirty. It was nearly enough to make Spite’s wings pop out and ruin the dinner Lucanis had so carefully prepared.

Notes:

I hope the chapter lengths have been okay. Thank you again to everyone leaving comments and kudos! Next chapter is going to be delving deeper into Rook's character and backstory. Hopefully Spite can behave. Rook and Lucanis need their bonding time, too!

Chapter 4: Smells Like... Blood and Rose Petals

Summary:

Rook and Lucanis prepare for their coffee date in Treviso. An unexpected guest tries to swoop the little songbird away.

Notes:

I said this one would be longer! I originally wanted to do the whole coffee date in one chapter, but I felt like it would have gotten TOO long if I had, so I'm splitting it up!

Thank you to everyone for their kind comments! I'm having so much fun with this!

Why, dear Maker, had he said the word date? Rook paced in his room anxiously, his heart and head racing as he replayed that evening’s events. He’d felt so confident from his talk with Emmrich that he had just spoken without thinking. He hadn’t even really gotten the chance to truly gauge Lucanis’ reaction as the rest of the group had arrived for dinner shortly after, which had the Crow reapplying his usual mask of suave indifference. At least based on Emmrich’s expressions during dinner, he could assume Spite was happy.

Spite liked him, that much was clear, but what about Lucanis? He could have just declined if he really didn’t want to go, but maybe he was just being polite? Was this really… Rook’s first real date? That thought made him stop in his tracks and his ears burned from the possibilities that swarmed his mind. He could almost forget he was supposed to be saving the world.

Several outfits were laid out on the chaise, and several more had been tossed aside in a rejection pile. What did he even have that would be considered date clothes? He’d collected a lot of nice armor pieces, but none of them really screamed “romantic night out in Treviso”. There had been one outfit he saw on display at the Hall of Valour that caught his eye. It was the same dark leather that the Crows favored, and even featured a feathered collar that looked very soft to the touch. More importantly, the front of the top was cut low, giving a nice view of his chest to anyone who cared to look. That was a date outfit… unfortunately it was also very expensive and Rook couldn’t justify spending the Lighthouse funds on something so frivolous.

Instead he decided to modify his usual armor choice. Black skin-tight pants and black boots, a Necropolis green button up dress shirt, and finally the long black overcoat with a purple collar. He left out all his usual armor pieces, making it look much more appropriate for a night out. Next was accessories: a gold skull pendant that hung down to the middle of his chest, and small matching golden skull earrings with emeralds in the eye sockets. Was he leaning too heavily into the whole “Necromancer” look? He never questioned it before, he’d always liked the way they looked on him. It wasn’t like he had many more choices, so he decided to roll with it.

For his makeup he chose a subtle smokey eye with hints of purple to hide the dark circles under his eyes that never seemed to go away. Dark grey lipstick finished off the look, and he took a moment to admire his work. He’d accepted a long time ago that he enjoyed makeup and jewelry, and if anyone thought him less of a man for it they could feel the sting of a fireball to the face. Satisfied, he took a deep breath to ease the last of his nerves. He was just getting coffee with a friend, there were no other expectations. After all, Lucanis probably thought he was joking about it being a date, right? He turned and strode out the door before he could change his mind.

---

“We have a date! With Rook!” Spite sat on Lucanis’ cot in the pantry, watching the assassin pace in the tight quarters. “What is a date?”

Lucanis stopped and looked at the demon with a raised eyebrow, momentarily distracted from his anxiety. “You’ve been practically bouncing off these walls since dinner, and you don’t even know what a date is?”

“It means. Time with Rook.” The demon answered confidently, which wasn’t wrong. “But what is it?”

Lucanis sighed and mumbled some choice words in Antivan. “A date is where two people-”

“Three!”

The assassin counted to five in his head. “Where people who are… interested in each other… spend time alone to grow closer.”

“We are. Interested in Rook. Very interested.” Spite commented with a grin.

“I know you are…” Lucanis grumbled and went back to pacing, but his stride was interrupted by the sudden appearance of his own face in front of him, glowing purple eyes sparkling with mischief.

“No… we are interested.” Spite walked his fingers up Lucanis’ chest teasingly. “You. Want time with him, too.”

Lucanis tried to swipe Spite’s hand away, but it just went through his form, leaving a smoky trail behind. “I don’t even think this is a real date. Rook was clearly just teasing, and this is nothing more than a night off for two… colleagues.”

Spite growled as the assassin moved past him to continue pacing. “No!” He stomped and grabbed an eggplant to throw at the Crow.

Even distracted as he was, his reflexes were still sharp and he caught the offending vegetable before it hit him in the face. “Spite, if you don’t calm down we won’t be going at all.”

Spite pouted, but that seemed to shut him up for the moment. With that headache resolved, Lucanis was able to think again. Date or not, he needed to be presentable if he was going to show Rook around Treviso. No Crow worth their wings would be caught dead in anything that wasn’t stylish. He smoothed his hair and combed his beard, and then moved onto his clothing. What he wore casually around the Lighthouse felt… inadequate. So he added a leather jacket from one of his armour sets and draped it over his shoulders. Not a thread out of place. Finally, he added a few more knives to his person, just in case.

Spite was watching with a smug smirk on its face, but it seemed it decided to “behave” for now if it meant spending the evening with Rook.

---

As Rook descended the stairs towards the circular table, he heard excited whispers and hushed giggles. Apparently Bellara and Harding got the memo of what their leader’s evening plans were, because when they turned to see Rook both of their eyes lit up. “Oh my gosh, Rook!” Bellara jumped up and practically ran over to Rook to take his hands. “You look amazing! What are you going to do? A romantic gondola ride? Picnic on the beach? Oh! Maybe watch the sunrise from the tallest building in the city!”

“Bellara…” Rook tried to ignore how hot his face was starting to feel.

“Oh! Sorry…” she released his hand with a bashful smile and went back to join Harding at the table. “I’m just so excited for you! I had a feeling about you two, right from the start!”

“You… did?” Rook ran his fingers through his short white hair nervously.

“Come on, Rook.” Harding teased, “Everyone can see how you two pine for each other when you think the other isn’t looking.”

The urge to run right back up those stairs and lock himself in his room was strong. “I-it’s not even like that. We’re just… getting coffee?” His unsure tone got the two women smirking at each other.

“Pretty fancy clothes for just getting coffee.” Harding challenged.

“Treviso is a fancy place.” Rook countered.

Thankfully Rook was saved from even more teasing by the door to the Lighthouse being pushed open. All three turned to see Lucanis confidently stride in, his eyes instantly falling on Rook.

Nothing could have prepared the Crow for the sight of Rook standing in front of him, dressed up like they were going to attend a gala at the Dellamorte estate. The way his gold accessories complimented his naturally pale skin, his expertly applied make up, the way their eyes locked together for just a moment in mutual awe, each holding their breath in case it caused the moment to pass.

Harding was the one to break the silence. “Looking sharp, Lucanis!”

And just like that, the spell was broken. “Thank you, Harding.” He replied as smoothly as ever. He counted his blessings that Spite hadn’t come back out and started commenting on Rook’s scent, but he could still feel the demon lurking in the back of his mind. Grinning. He ignored it. “Shall we?” He asked Rook.

“Age before beauty.” Rook made a grand gesture to the stairs with a playful grin.

“Hey, I am not that much older than you.” Lucanis feigned offense, but stepped forward anyway with an amused expression. He held his arm out as he reached Rook, letting his hand hover over the small of his back as they walked.

The last thing the two heard as they entered the Eluvian room were the excited giggles of the two women they left behind.

---

The Treviso night air was crisp and refreshing. Rook took a deep breath as he stepped through the Eluvian, letting himself get immersed in the sounds and smells around him. The distant chiming of bells and caws of crows–the bird, not the assassins–to the gentle rolling water that ran through the canals… Treviso truly was a magical city.

Lucanis watched Rook enjoy the moment, not wanting to break that peace he saw on the mage’s face. It was so rare to see. He spoke once their eyes met again. “Ready?”

Rook smiled and nodded, and the two made their way through the Crow hideout. Briefly Rook wondered why they hadn’t called it the Aviary. Or the Crow's Nest. He decided not to mention it. Teia and Viago briefly acknowledged them as they passed before diving back into whatever lover’s quarrel they had going on that day. When they reached the zipline, the mage frowned.

Lucanis noticed the change in expression and gave him a curious look. “What’s wrong?”

“Don’t tell the others… but I really don’t like ziplines.” He admitted bashfully and glanced down the side of the building.

“But you use them so well, I could almost think you were a Crow.” Lucanis admitted, not able to hide the surprise in his voice.

“That’s exactly what I want people to think. What kind of leader would I be if I were afraid of… dangling five stories above the ground, holding onto a small piece of metal attached to a breakable rope that could snap at any moment and send me falling to my doom.” His voice started to falter at the end, and he cleared his throat to try to hide it.

“I won’t say a word.” There was a flash of mischievous violet in Lucanis’ eyes, and before Rook could protest the assassin snaked his arm around the mage's waist and pulled him into his side. “Perhaps if you had something sturdier to hold onto, you won’t feel as scared.”

Rook’s mind went blank when he suddenly found himself being held against Lucanis’ warm, firm body. “Lucanis, I don’t–” He didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence before the Crow grabbed onto the zipline and jumped, taking Rook with him. The mage yelled and quickly wrapped his arms around Lucanis’ neck, though the arm holding him was more than enough to keep him safely secured. Rook squeezed his eyes shut against the cool wind that blew his hair back as the slid down to the next rooftop below.

Lucanis laughed as they landed and Rook was still clinging to him to keep his legs from turning to jelly. “There, was that so bad?”

They released each other at the same time, though Rook still kept a grip on the other man’s arm for support as he steadied himself. He turned to Lucanis with as much of a pout as he could manage once he had. “Never. Do that again.” He said as he adjusted his jacket.

“As you say.” He gestured for Rook to take the lead, and in the back of his mind he could hear Spite chuckling. The two left the rooftops, and the audience they had gathered, and headed towards the café.

---

As they made their way through the market, Lucanis stopped to look at one of the stalls. Rook had taken a couple steps before he realized the other had stopped, and turned around with a quizzical look. “Something catch your eye?” He asked.

Lucanis hummed, seemingly deciding on something before he looked over at Rook. “Why don’t you go on ahead and grab us a table? I have something I wish to take care of first. I will meet you at the café.” He shot a quick frustrated look to his side, meaning Spite probably had something to say about that.

“Oh, um… okay. I’ll meet you there.” Rook was still confused, and slightly disappointed to be leaving Lucanis’ side so soon, but he turned and continued on anyway. He trusted the Crow had his reasons, and they still had the whole night together after all. As he passed a street performer playing a rendition of Sera Was Never, he flipped a coin into their dish.

Café Pietra wasn’t too crowded that night, thankfully. It meant it would be quieter, easier to relax. After stopping to pet an adorable orange cat by the doorway, Rook picked out a table by the water, tucked away in the corner where they might have some privacy. He thought about ordering for them, he knew what Lucanis’ favorite coffee was, but he didn’t know how long the assassin would be and didn’t want the drinks to get cold.

“Well, well… if it isn’t our newest little bird.” A familiar voice caught Rook’s attention just as the owner slipped into the seat across from him. Illario. “It isn’t often I see you out by yourself.” He flashed a charming grin at the mage.

“Illario?” Rook greeted in surprise. Though, perhaps he shouldn’t be. The Crows practically own Treviso, after all. “Oh, I’m not alone. I’m waiting for Lucanis.”

At the mention of his cousin, Rook thought he saw a flash of annoyance in the other Crow’s eyes, but it was gone so fast he thought he must have imagined it. “A city full of assassins and my cousin lets you wander all by yourself? Shameful.”

“I can handle myself.” Rook replied confidently and held up his hand to conjure a small flame in his palm.

“So you can.” Illario agreed with a chuckle. He set his elbows on the table and leaned in closer. “Still, if I were by your side I wouldn’t let you out of my site. Precious gems deserve to be constantly admired, after all.”

Was Illario… flirting with him? He was flattered, the man was indeed quite handsome, being a Dellamorte himself, but there wasn’t any sort of spark the mage could feel between them. “I always saw myself as more of a… weird knickknack you bought at a festival that one time and then forgot about.” He dismissed the flirting with humor.

“You sell yourself short.” Illario insisted, his voice lowered as he stared at Rook hungrily. “I know a place much more deserving of admiring you than this humble café table. Why not let me show you how a true Antivan gentleman treats his guests?”

Rook sat back in his chair away from Illario. He didn’t want to be rude, but his body language was clear about his rejection of the man. “I think I’ll just wait here for–”

“Illario?” Lucanis’ confused voice called their attention, and Rook gave him a relieved smile. “What are you doing here?”

“Cousin!” Illario stood with his arms raised to greet his fellow Crow. He placed his hands on Lucanis’ shoulders and flashed another smile. “I was just keeping your little bird company while we waited for you. Treviso is a dangerous city right now, after all.”

Lucanis frowned at the nickname, but his tone remained civil. “Well… thank you, I suppose. If you don’t mind…”

“Of course, of course…” Illario patted Lucanis' shoulders before taking a smooth step away. “Have fun, cousin.” He grinned at them both as he left the café.

As soon as he was out of earshot, Lucanis sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Illario was just being… Illario, Spite. It meant nothing.” He muttered to the space next to him before turning his attention back to Rook. His expression softened as he took his seat. “Apologies for the wait.”

“What is it you had to do that was so important?” Rook asked, finally able to relax now that Lucanis was there.

“Later.” Lucanis brushed off the question, leaving the mage even more curious. “Right now I need coffee.”

Notes:

These boys are hopeless and I love them so much. I know I promised backstory in this one, but that's been moved up to the next chapter to keep the flow!

Chapter 5: Smells Like... Ink and Longing

Summary:

Rook and Lucanis (and Spite) have a wonderful time in Treviso, but it doesn't end how they might want it to.

Notes:

Please forgive me if the Spanish isn't perfect. I only remember a little from high school and want to make sure I'm doing it right. Please, don't hesitate to correct me if I get anything wrong!

Also, did anyone call for some spice? Just a little?

Rook inhaled deeply, savoring the aroma of his coffee. He and Lucanis both savored their first sip together, sitting in a comfortable silence for a moment. “Ah… we don’t get coffee like this in the Necropolis.”

“Please tell me it’s at least better than the boiled coffee that Neve made back at the Lighthouse?” Lucanis asked, grimacing at the memory.

“Oh, better than that by far.” Rook answered with a laugh. “But still, nothing compares to a genuine Antivan blend. Not many of the other Watchers liked it, so we didn’t get it shipped in a lot.” He closed his eyes as he took his next sip. “Mm… I don’t think I would have made it through my studies without it.”

“Long nights?” Lucanis guessed, absently swirling his coffee.

Rook shook his head. “Long days. I’ve always felt more energized at night, so I tended to stay up way too late. Not that you can really tell the time of day when you’re down in the Necropolis.” He looked up at the stars with that thought, or at least the few that were peaking through the clouds. “When I’m out in the sun, I actually start to feel more tired.”

“Like a cat, basking in the sunlight that pours through a window.” Lucanis noted with an amused smile.

“Hey, if it comes with free meals and head scratches I’ll take being a cat. Sounds like a nice life.” Rook laughed and took another sip of coffee. As he did, he felt his hair tickle his face like it had been gently brushed aside. Startled, Rook turned in that direction… but saw no one. “Did you…” He looked back at Lucanis, about to ask if he knew what that was, but the look on his face already answered the question.

“Spite…” Lucanis warned in a low voice.

“It’s okay, really!” Rook insisted and set his coffee down. “That’s actually incredible! Spite was able to manipulate something out here in the real world instead of just in the Fade.” Excitement filled the mage, and once again he was thinking of multiple theories they could test to see just how much Spite could do.

“Don’t encourage him, Rook. You can’t hear what he’s saying when he does that.” Lucanis insisted, his eyes still locked on where Spite was presumably standing.

“And… what’s he saying?” Rook’s thoughts immediately jumped back to that night in the music room. Spite’s lips just centimeters away from touching his skin, inhaling his scent… Rook quickly took another sip of coffee to distract him from that train of thought.

Lucanis regretted revealing that, and hesitated answering by taking his own sip. “You don’t want to know.” He finally said.

“That bad?” Rook asked with a laugh to hide his nerves.

The assassin sighed and rubbed his temples, seemingly getting an earful from the demon. “In a sense.” He finally said. Eagerly wanting to shift topics away from Spite in hopes it would get bored, he looked back up at Rook and asked, “How long have you lived in the Necropolis?”

The mage hummed in thought, glancing down at his coffee cup. “I guess it’s about… fifteen years now?” He looked back at Lucanis with a chuckle. “You know, I was actually found in the Grand Necropolis as a baby.”

The Crow raised an eyebrow. “You mean… like you were abandoned in a crypt?”

Rook shrugged. “No one was able to figure it out. It was Undead who found me and brought me to the Watchers. Could be I was abandoned, kidnapped, somehow crawled inside when my parents weren’t looking… could be I was formed from the Fade and have no parents. Either way, I spent my early childhood in an orphanage in Nevarra City until my magic came in. It was like… destiny, almost. I felt like I belonged in the Necropolis.”

“So… you have no family at all?” Lucanis asked in a quiet voice.

“Not that I know of. Not by blood, anyway.” Rook ran his fingers along the edge of his cup. “But… I wouldn’t say I have no family. The Mourn Watch are my family. They raised me, taught me how to control my magic, and… how to be myself.” He smiled fondly at the memories, letting himself get lost in them for a moment.

Lucanis seemed to be doing the same as he stared down into his own cup. “The only family I have left are Illario and… well, I suppose now it’s only Illario. The rest were killed when I was a child as a bid for the title of First Talon.”

“I’m so sorry…” was all Rook could think to say, then after a moment he added, “Well… now you have us?”

Lucanis looked up in confusion. “Us?”

“The Veilguard.” Rook said with a smile. When that didn’t get a response he clarified, “That’s what I’ve just now decided to call the team. You know, guarding the veil… Veilguard…” With a nervous chuckle the mage decided to down the last of his coffee.

Finally Lucanis let out a small laugh of his own. “I suppose… The Veilguard. It has a nice ring to it, I admit.”

“See? I–er, we’ll always have your back.” Rook hid behind his cup to hide that slip up even though he’d already finished it.

They sat in silence again as Lucanis finished his own coffee. He stood as soon as he was and flashed a smile at the mage. “So, shall I give you the official Venatori and Antaam free tour of Treviso? Well, mostly Antaam free.”

Rook returned the smile and stood with him. “Lead the way.”

---

“--All together in one big, writhing ball.” Lucanis was saying as the two strolled casually along one of the quiet walkways of the canals, using his hands to form a sphere for emphasis. “Have you ever tried to stab a ball of angry nugs? That was a bad job.”

Rook laughed and scrunched his face in disgust. “I don’t even want to imagine that, but now it’s in my head. Thanks.” He shivered dramatically. “Ugh, why do they have hands?”

“Why do they have hands?” Lucanis agreed. “Teia thinks they’re cute, but I still have nightmares about that… thing.”

Rook laughed again. The sound filled the Crow with a warmth he wasn’t used to. He wanted to keep hearing it, keep being the reason for it. He wanted this night to never end. A realization tickled the back of his mind that he wasn’t ready to admit yet. Even to himself. This was getting dangerous, and the smart thing to do would be to end the evening here and return to the Lighthouse. But… perhaps he could let himself have this one night. One night to indulge and then back away. For Rook’s sake.

“Yes! Indulge in Rook!” Spite’s voice came from close behind Lucanis. “ Taste him. Take him. Make him ours.”

He ignored the demon’s whispers. Thankfully it seemed Rook had spotted something that could distract him from the treacherous path his thoughts were leading him down. “Hey, is that a bookstore?” The mage asked hopefully, pointing to a small, well lit shop across the canal.

“Ah, yes. One of my favorites, in fact.” Lucanis smiled and began to lead them across the bridge towards it. “Tucked away as it is, not many realize it’s here. Makes it a nice, quiet place to relax and get lost in the pages.”

The shop was cozy, yet bigger than it seemed on the outside. Shelves upon shelves lined the walls and created a maze of isles to explore. An older elven woman sat at a desk by the entrance, reading. She looked up as the two came in and gave them a warm smile. “Ah, Lucanis!” She stood, placing her book down gently. “It has been ages since I’ve seen you in here!”

“¡Buenas noches, señora! Me alegro de volver a verla.” Lucanis greeted her in Antivan and gave her hand a quick, chaste kiss.

“Charmer.” She teased and turned her attention to Rook. “And you’ve brought a friend!” She sounded like she was surprised he even had a friend.

“A tour of Treviso would not be complete without showing him every hidden gem of the city, no?”

“Rook.” The mage introduced himself with a small bow. “You have a very cozy shop here, ma’am.”

“Why thank you, young man.” She smiled and sat back down at her desk. “Please, if you need anything just let me know.”

“We will.” Lucanis promised before guiding Rook towards the towers of books. The mage didn’t need any further encouragement and practically sprinted forward to browse through the stacks. The assassin chuckled and stepped casually through the isles himself.

“This is boring.” Spite complained, appearing leaned against a shelf as Lucanis turned a corner.

“Not for him.” The Crow gestured behind Spite, who turned to see Rook already nose deep in a book, eyes moving quickly as he practically devoured the words. “See how passionate he is? How he lit up just at the mention of a book shop? That will never be boring.”

Spite conceded with a grunt and moved to look curiously over Rook’s shoulder at the pages. Lucanis wasn’t sure the demon could even read.

The mage looked up when he felt Lucanis move next to him. “There are so many titles I’ve never even heard of here.” He said excitedly. “Most of the books in the Circle were non-fiction. Though, I still found some really good crime studies buried in there.”

Lucanis raised an eyebrow, then glanced at the section they were standing beside. “You enjoy murder mysteries?” He asked in an amused tone.

Rook’s face flushed softly as he put the book he was holding back. “Yeah… I guess that would sound weird to a Crow.”

“Not at all. Though, I never got into the genre myself. Either they were far too unrealistic, or I could guess the twist from the beginning.” He idly browsed the shelf, reading out the titles in his head. Most of them involved the Crows, unsurprisingly. No doubt completely fantastical unless written by a Crow themselves. Or perhaps especially if they were written by a Crow.

“What genres do you like?” Rook asked, watching him curiously.

Now it was Lucanis’ turn to feel bashful. “Romance.” He admitted, keeping his gaze on the books.

“Romance? ” Rook repeated in disbelief.

“Is that so hard to imagine?” Lucanis turned now to face him. “In a way, it is the opposite of life as a Crow. At least, the opposite of mine. My days are filled with death, contracts, and training, so I escape to a world of life, love, and passion.”

Their eyes met, and it was like a spark of electricity shot between them. Rook took a step closer, and Lucanis mirrored him as if pushed by an unseen force. His heart raced, and he imagined reaching out to take the mage’s chin between his fingers. He would tilt Rook’s head to the perfect angle so their lips could meet and fit together perfectly, like they were made for each other. Then he noticed Spite grinning widely behind Rook, eyes wide in anticipation. That was enough for Lucanis to break the hold and step back. Spite let out a loud, frustrated growl and slammed its fist against the shelf, causing it to wobble and a few books fall to the floor.

“Hey!” Lucanis pointed to the demon behind Rook, who had turned around to see what that was. “I told you to behave.”

“Everything okay, boys?” The elderly book keeper called from the front of the store.

“Yes, everything is fine!” Lucanis called out reassuringly and then turned his attention back to Rook. The mage seemed flustered, wide eyed. “I am sorry for Spite. Perhaps it’s time we head back...”

“No!” Rook said quickly.

“No!” Spite said at the same time.

“I mean…” Rook cleared his throat. “I want to get a few books at least, to read back at the Lighthouse.”

“Of course,” Lucanis couldn’t say no to Rook. “But I am paying.”

---

Rook sighed heavily as he flopped down onto the green chaise in his room. The stack of books Lucanis had bought him sat neatly on the table behind it, right next to Varric’s hand mirror. For just a moment, there in that book shop, he thought Lucanis was going to kiss him. Had he misread the moment? Had he imagined the way the assassin’s eyes had lingered on his lips? The way they stepped towards each other as if pulled by an invisible string that bound them together?

He’d told himself before to have no expectations, that it wasn’t a real date, but… what else could he call that? A failed one, that’s what. With a groan he held his face in his hands and turned to his side. Did he do something wrong? Tease him too much? Not enough? Maybe this never was a date, and Lucanis had no idea these thoughts were driving the mage mad.

It didn’t matter what Spite thought of him if Lucanis didn’t also feel the same. It was his body, after all. And… Rook realized he wanted both of them. All three of them, together, tangled up in silk sheets and intertwined limbs. How would that even work with a Spirit? Spite was able to touch Rook at the café table. Maybe they could…

No, these thoughts were far too dangerous. And yet… as if on its own one of Rook’s hands slid down his body, slipping underneath his clothes. His mind conjured the image of Lucanis, bare chested and covered in sweat as he held Rook in his arms. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to the mage’s neck, his beard tickling his skin. And then another set of strong arms wound around Rook, another body pressing firmly against his back. A second set of lips claimed the other side of his neck, causing him to moan and his knees to shake.

In reality Rook’s fingers slipped between his folds, quickly finding that engorged nub of pleasure and teasing it. He shifted onto his back and spread his legs, letting one hang off the side and one hang onto the back of the chaise. He imagined Lucanis smirking up at him from between his knees before disappearing between them. “Lucanis…” Rook moaned out the name as his pace quickened, picturing the assassin’s tongue in place of his fingers. He slipped one digit, then another inside of him, pretending it was Spite’s hand that played with him and made him writhe. “Spite…”

It wasn’t long before these images and his own fingers sent him over the edge. He bucked into his hand and brought his knees in tight, keeping it in place as he rode out his orgasm. When the wave finally subsided, he relaxed his legs and withdrew his fingers. “Maker…” he breathed out heavily.

Rook was down bad for those two.

Notes:

I'm going to sound like a broken record, but thank you everyone again!! This one has been my favorite to write so far~

Translation:
“¡Buenas noches, señora! Me alegro de volver a verla.” // “Good evening, madam! It's good to see you again.”

Chapter 6: Smells Like... Pain and Pleasure

Summary:

Rook tries to comfort Lucanis after Weisshaupt; Lucanis and Spite make a new deal.

Notes:

Heads up! Things get a little more spicy in this chapter! (Not where I thought it was going to go, but where it ended up). Thanks to everyone for their kind words of encouragement!

Weisshaupt… was a disaster. Sure, Rook managed to do the impossible and get through the First Warden’s thick skull (as much as he wanted to punch him in the face), but everything after that? Ghilan’nain survived, and too many Wardens didn’t. At least… at least he didn’t lose Lucanis. For a moment he wasn’t sure if both of them were going to make it out of there, but they did. Everyone was distracted by something, Emmrich had said, and Rook knew what his distraction was. Lucanis. The assassin was all Rook could think about during the whole siege. Where was he? Was he alright? Would he make it out?

They hadn’t had any real time alone since that night in Treviso. Sure, Lucanis came on missions when asked and still chatted with Rook… but only if there was someone else there with them. Otherwise he always had some excuse to step away. Had Rook truly read their relationship so wrong? They needed to talk, but first he needed to check in with Lucanis to see how he was faring after the battle. Missing his target really shook him up.

After speaking with Solas about their next course of action, Rook left his room to go find the Crow. Unsurprisingly, he was holed up in the pantry. The mage knocked, but didn’t wait for an answer before opening the door. “Lucanis? Are you in here brooding?” He asked as he poked his head inside.

Lucanis was standing in front of his cot, staring at the floor with his arms crossed. “I’m fine.” He replied curtly. Definitely brooding.

“That’s not a ‘no’.” Rook pointed out as he stepped inside the pantry, letting the door close behind him.

The assassin looked up at the Watcher. Rook had expected anger in his eyes, but instead they looked… ashamed. “I had her. She should have never gotten away from me. This was our contract, Rook. I don’t fail my contracts.”

“Forget about Ghilan’nain.” Rook took a step closer, waving his hand to the side as if brushing the thoughts away.

“That’s why I’m here!” Lucanis insisted, not moving closer but also not moving away either.

“I know, but…” The mage moved forward until they were an arm’s length apart. “I’m just happy you didn’t get killed out there.” He said softly, his eyes open and vulnerable staring into Lucanis’ own.

“You shouldn’t go easy on me.” Lucanis’ voice was softer, sadder, as he looked into Rook’s eyes. “Mistakes get people killed.” Could have gotten Rook killed.

“You’re an assassin. So do successes.” Rook couldn’t help but point out.

Lucanis looked away then. He hesitated before speaking again. “I thought I still had this. Whatever else I am, I am a professional. After the Ossuary, I thought…” he looked back at Rook, a different pain in his eyes now. “I thought I could at least still take out a target. I need to work.”

Rook had suspicions that Lucanis wasn’t as okay as he presented himself as. As Emmrich had pointed out, he’d suffered a whole year of torture. Rook couldn’t begin to imagine all the feelings and trauma the assassin had pushed down just to be standing there in front of him. “What you need right now is sleep, not work.” He insisted. That was the first step he needed to take.

The Crow sighed and shifted his weight, looking as if all the exhaustion he’d been ignoring had just hit him all at once. “You might be right…”

Rook risked reaching out and resting his hand gently on Lucanis’ shoulder. “It’s not over. Just… take care of yourself for now, okay?” He offered a comforting smile.

Lucanis seemed to tense at the touch, but he didn’t move away. Their eyes met, and again Rook thought he felt that pull towards the other man. All he had to do was lean in and close his eyes. The assassin slowly reached up and placed his hand over Rook’s. “I was distracted.” He said finally, and removed the mage’s hand from his shoulder. “That cannot happen again. I need to get my head on straight.”

An aching pain shot through Rook’s heart as he pulled his hand back. He wasn’t sure, but this felt like a rejection. He took a step back, doing everything he could to mask his feelings. “Whatever you need to do.” He offered another smile, hoping it reached his eyes.

---

As soon as Rook left the pantry, a potato hit Lucanis in the back of the head. “Mierda! Spite!” Lucanis turned to see the purple toned replica of himself, its face twisted in anger.

“You hurt Rook!” They growled. “Made him smell like. Tears and pain!”

“Hurt…” the Crow glanced at the pantry door. Had he really? That wasn’t his intention. He thought he was being careful, staying away so this infatuation he had wouldn’t hurt Rook. The only way that would hurt Rook was if…

Spite chucked another potato at him. “Lucanis is dense. Blind. Doesn’t see. What is obvious!”

This time Lucanis was able to catch it. “Even if that’s true, Rook deserves better than me. And stop wasting food.”

Spite growled in annoyance. “We want Rook. Rook wants us! We should be with Rook!” They grabbed a plate this time and hurled it at the wall. It shattered and sent ceramic pieces scattering across the floor.

“See, this is exactly why we can’t be with Rook.” Lucanis gestured to the remains of the plate. “It’s too dangerous, he doesn’t deserve to get involved in this mess.”

Spite was unusually quiet at that, though it was still glaring hard at the assassin. There was a blur of purple and the demon moved to behind him. Back to back. “No danger. To Rook…” It said in a less angry voice. “Never Rook.”

Lucanis glanced behind him at Spite. It was looking down at the ground. Was it… sad? He’d never seen it sad before. “Spite…?” He turned around, unsure what exactly he was feeling anymore.

Spite stayed where it was, not turning to face the other. “Rook is kind. Gentle. Rook isn’t scared of us. We… protect Rook.”

Up until that point, Lucanis had viewed Spite as an annoyance. An aggravating, impulsive, immature annoyance. Yet now… they seemed like a person. Vulnerable, longing to be understood. It stirred up emotions that the Crow wasn't prepared to admit to. “Sometimes… protecting someone means staying away from them.” He said softly. Without thinking, he raised his hand to rest it on the demon’s arm. He was sure it was just going to phase through them, but this time it felt surprisingly solid.

Spite finally turned to face Lucanis, its glowing eyes somehow… softer. “Staying… away? Will protect Rook?” They asked apprehensively.

“For now.” Lucanis couldn’t promise he could resist forever, but he could at least compromise. He moved his hand up to rest on Spite’s shoulder. “Until Zara is dealt with. Until the gods are dead. We will protect Rook from everything that will harm him. Including ourselves.”

“We will protect Rook.” Spite’s eyes shone with determination and its wings spread out wide from its back. “Make a deal! We protect Rook, then we can have Rook!”

“If Rook wants us.” Lucanis added, raising his finger to correct them. “It is a deal.”

Purple magic and feathers swirled around two in a wind conjured by the demon’s wings. Eyes glinting, they cupped Lucanis’ face and pulled the assassin in to press their lips together in a kiss. This didn’t surprise him, it was how they had sealed their first deal in the Ossuary. Lucanis just assumed this was how deals with demons worked, but this kiss… felt different. It was more than just business, it was… satisfying.

Maybe it was all the pent up feelings Lucanis had for Rook, maybe it was the heightened state of emotion he was in, but he closed his eyes and leaned into the kiss. His hand reached up to slide into Spite’s hair, holding them in place while their lips moved together hungrily. He let out a moan as the demon’s tongue slipped into his mouth. This was probably very wrong on so many levels, but in that moment he didn’t care. Without warning he felt himself being pushed up against the wall, Spite breaking the kiss momentarily to grin wickedly at the assassin. “Shall I show you. What I want to do. To Rook?” It practically purred the words out. Its wings surrounded them on both sides, shrouding them in purple light.

Lucanis was panting at this point, already feeling strain against his pants. This was dangerous. “Perhaps…” he was about to protest, but the demon’s lips were already against his neck. He tilted his head back and closed his eyes again. “Mierda…”

Spite chuckled against his skin and let its fingers slide down the Crow’s chest. “Or maybe… what we want. Rook to do to us?”   It didn’t bother trying to physically remove Lucanis’ clothes, instead opting to use its magic to undo the buttons of his vest.

Lucanis felt goosebumps from the attention, and the image of Rook being in front of him, kissing him and undoing his clothes flashed into his mind. At first it was instead of Spite, but then his imagination shifted to Rook and Spite. The three of them entangled together, not knowing who was who, just enjoying the feeling of each other’s bodies. Growing impatient, he helped the demon remove the complex layers of his top until the fabric fell to the floor. Instantly the assassin was pressed against the wall again as lips nipped and licked his collarbone. “Spite…” he moaned out as he let his hands rest against the demon’s chest.

Spite’s appearance always mirrored Lucanis’ so now the demon was also half naked. Maybe the Crow should have been more weirded out that Spite looked just like him and they were doing this together, but in the heat of the moment he didn’t care. The demon let its tongue glide slowly up the assassin’s neck and whispered into his ear, “Rook will sing for us. We will make him sing. But he is not. The only songbird. I can make sing.”

“Promises, promises…” Lucanis teased in a low voice. “Show me you are worthy of touching Rook like this.” He decided to let himself go, to enjoy this moment and let his worries slip into the back of his mind.

Spite growled, but it wasn’t their usual angry one. This one was pleased, like they had accepted the challenge. They leaned back in and bit down hard on the assassin’s neck, causing him to hiss and clench his fists. It was a good thing he wore such high collared shirts, as that was certainly going to leave a mark. As the demon sucked on the spot he bit, now tender from all the attention, its hand slid down into Lucanis’ pants. Slender fingers wrapped around his hardening cock and began to slowly glide up and down the shaft.

Lucanis moaned at the contact, but he bit his lip to hold it back. He didn’t know who would be out in the dining room, heaven forbid Rook was still out there, and the thought of the others hearing him like this…

“Ah, ah, ah…” Spite’s free hand reached up and traced the assassin’s lips. “I said… sing for me.”

Lucanis gripped the demon’s arms hard enough to bruise a normal partner, but the spirit seemed to like it. “The others… might hear.” He panted out, earning a squeeze around the base of his cock. When the crow opened his mouth, Spite’s fingers slipped inside. He moaned around them.

“Let them hear.” The demon purred, their eyes half-lidded and glinting with lust. “Let them know. You are mine. Rook is mine. Lucanis is mine. Mine!” Their strokes became faster with each sentence.

That should have been alarming, but it only brought the Crow closer to the edge. The fingers in his mouth moved away, sliding down his chin, his neck, his chest–leaving a wet trail in their wake. He let his head fall forward, relying fully on Spite to hold himself up as his legs threatened to give out on him. “Sp…Spite…” he groaned out between breaths.

The demon chuckled and slowly moved down Lucanis’ body, leaving a trail of kisses on his chest and stomach as they did. When they were kneeling in front of him, they withdrew their hand and roughly yanked down the rest of his clothing to his knees.

Lucanis made noises that he’d never made before as his hard, aching cock was freed. He now laced his fingers in the demon’s hair, watching as they leaned in and slowly drew their tongue over his shaft. “Mierda… where did you even learn to do this?”

All he got was a chuckle as Spite flicked their tongue across his slit, tasting the salty precum gathering there. They eased their mouth around the head and sucked, causing Lucanis’ breath to hitch. He wasn’t going to last much longer at this rate. The demon took more of him into its mouth, teasingly humming around the shaft. One hand lightly gripped the base, and the other played with his balls.

Lucanis was still holding back his moans, still not wanting to be heard, but it was getting harder to keep quiet. Spite’s tongue flicked across the cock in his mouth in a way a physical body couldn’t do. It was too much, and the assassin tightened his grip in its hair and began to desperately thrust.

Spite’s eyes flashed mischievously, and just before Lucanis could feel himself release, the demon squeezed the base to stop it. “Ah, ah… not until. I hear you siii-iing.” It demanded in a playful tone.

Lucanis bit his lip hard enough to draw blood. Lust fogged his mind, and all he could think about was how much he wanted to feel that final climax. Finally he obeyed and let out a cry of pleasure louder than he had intended. Satisfied, Spite removed its fingers and let the Crow have his reward. After riding the wave of his orgasm, clinging desperately to the demon in front of him, he collapsed back against the wall and slowly slid down to the ground. “Fuck…” Lucanis said as he brought his hands over his eyes and tried to steady his breathing. It was quiet, he realized after a moment, and opened his eyes. Spite was nowhere to be seen.

“Rest.” Spite’s voice demanded from inside his head. “Rook said sleep, so we sleep.”

Lucanis nodded, but then glanced around at the mess that littered the pantry floor. Not just ceramic shards and scattered clothing, but also a new puddle where Spite had been kneeling. “I… should clean up first.”

Notes:

Am I avoiding responsibilities by obsessively writing about my new comfort characters as an escape? Why yes, yes I am.

Chapter 7: Smells Like... Feathers and Jealousy

Summary:

Rook's friends try to help him get Lucanis' attention. It works, but not in the way he had hoped.

Notes:

I told myself I was going to take a break. I lied to myself.

“You two should just fuck already.” Taash stated flatly as they took another swig of rum.

Rook sputtered and choked on his own drink, Navarran brandy, while Bellara patted his back. The three of them decided to get drinks after a couple rounds in the Hall of Valor, and somehow the topic of him and Lucanis came up. After his coughing fit stopped he looked up at the Qunari seated next to him. “Taash!”

“What?” They shrugged. “I can smell it all over you both when you’re in a room together. Just pin him to the wall and grab his–”

“What –” Bellara interjected quickly, “–Taash means is… you two are clearly infatuated with each other, Rook! I mean it! Ever since that date he’s always looking at you with big round puppy eyes.”

“I’m still not sure that was really a date…” Rook mumbled into his cup. “He’s avoiding me. Even if he does like me that way, it feels like he’s… holding back.”

“Maybe he just needs a little motivation to make his move?” The elf suggested with an optimistic tone. “Oh! Wait, I have the perfect idea!” She grinned, her eyes sparkling.

Rook raised an eyebrow. He’d take any ideas at this point. “Oh?”

“All you need to do… is make him jealous!” She held her hands up in front of her in excitement.

“Jealous?” Rook frowned at that.

“Yeah! If he sees someone else flirting with you, it’ll make him realize he wants you all to himself! He’ll put his arm around your waist while looking directly into their eyes and say… ‘Sorry, this one is taken’.” She tried her best at impersonating Lucanis.

Rook stared at her for a moment. “Is… that from one of those serials you enjoy so much?”

Bellara gave a bashful shrug. “Well, it’s… yeah. But it works every time!”

“Couldn’t that backfire?” Taash pointed out. “He sees Rook with someone else and figures he missed his shot?”

Rook groaned and held his face in his hands. “Knowing him, that’s the more realistic option.” Taking a deep breath, he dragged his fingers up and through his hair. “Who would I even try it with? Davrin? Emmrich? I wouldn’t want to lead them on just to get Lucanis’ attention. It wouldn’t be fair to either of them.”

“Oh… that’s a good point.” Bellara rested her chin on her fist in thought, her face scrunched up from concentration.

“Boy troubles?” A charming voice called from behind them. She strode up to them with a smirk, jewelry jingling like wind chimes, and leaned against the bar next to Rook.

“Hey, Isabela.” Taash greeted, raising their cup.

“Taash.” The Pirate Queen greeted warmly before her eyes turned to focus on Rook. “You know, I happen to be quite the expert on navigating through… sticky situations.”

Rook felt his ears start to burn. He sighed and took another sip of his drink. “I just… don’t know how to help him take that next step. We have fun when we’re together, we can talk about almost anything, and… I just feel safe around him.”

“Being around the trained assassin makes you feel safe?” Taash teased with a smirk.

Isabela laughed. “That certainly sounds familiar. Those Crows do have their charms, don’t they?” She smiled and seemed to lose herself in a memory for a moment. “Anyway, I know exactly what you need to do to get his eyes on you.”

“What’s that?” Rook perked up, sitting up straighter with an eager shine in his eyes.

With a wide smile she answered, “You need to show him exactly what he’s missing out on.” She said as she tapped his chest.

“How do you mean?”

“Doll yourself up. Make yourself look so good that he can’t possibly resist you. Trust me, he’ll have his paws all over you faster than a mabari with a fat, juicy steak.”

“That’s a great idea!” Bellara exclaimed, kicking her feet in her enthusiasm. “Oh! We can help! I’ve got a ton of extra bangles and earrings you can borrow!”

“If it means you and Lucanis will finally hook up, I’m in.” Taash raised their cup again and then downed the rest of the contents.

“He’ll need more than just accessories.” Isabela said as she pushed herself up from the bar. “Luckily, I still owe you your winnings from today’s matches. How about we get you an outfit that will knock your assassin on his arse?”

“If you really think it will help…” Rook looked between his three friends, uncertainty in his eyes.

“Of course it will!” Isabela grabbed his arm and pulled him off of his stool towards the door. “Now come on, I have a few ideas already.”

---

“Your coffee is getting cold.” Neve pointed out as she poured herself a cup from the pot Lucanis had just brewed.

“What?” Lucanis looked up from the dining table at Neve, almost surprised she was there. He was slipping, no one should be able to sneak up on him like that. Apparently he’d been staring into the coffee cup he held with both hands for a while. Long enough that the cup was barely warm anymore. That never happened. “Ah…”

“Something on your mind?” The detective asked as she slipped into the chair next to him and took a sip from her mug.

The assassin sighed. “A lot is on my mind.” He admitted. He took a tentative sip. It wasn’t quite cold yet, though not nearly as satisfying as it would be when fresh.

“Let me guess what’s at the top of the list.” Neve said as she watched him from over her cup. “Rook?”

He looked over at her in surprise, then sighed again. “Am I that obvious?”

“Lucanis, the whole Lighthouse knows you and Rook have eyes for each other. It doesn’t take a detective’s insight to see that.”

“Mierda…” he held a hand over his eyes and rubbed his temples.

“Why don’t you tell him how you feel?” She asked as she set her cup down.

“Rook deserves better than me and my mess.” He and Spite had made a deal to protect Rook, and Lucanis’ resolve on that front hadn’t wavered, but… he firmly believed protecting him meant keeping his distance.

“Maybe.” Neve agreed, which had the assassin turning back to her with a raised brow. She continued, “But sometimes people want a little mess in their lives.”

“He’ll just end up hurt.” Lucanis insisted, repeating what his thoughts had been telling him over and over since he acknowledged his feelings for the mage.

The detective picked up her cup again. “I think that’s Rook’s choice to make. He’s a smart man, and very intuitive. He can see the puzzle, see there’s an action to be taken, and accept the consequences if he’s wrong.”

Lucanis’s eyes drifted back to his own coffee. “But what if…?”

“He’s not so fragile, you know. Sure, he tends to hide his insecurities behind humor, but he also knows when to ask for help.” Neve stood. As she walked behind Lucanis she placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Give it a chance. It might even turn out okay.” She smiled and squeezed his shoulder briefly before walking off to return to her study.

Lucanis remained where he was, uncertainty swirling in his chest just like the coffee swirling in his cup. Maybe… it was worth the risk?

“Not yet.” Spite appeared sitting on the table where Neve had just left. “Lucanis said after Zara. After the gods. We protect Rook first, then we can have him.”

The assassin glanced over at the demon. “I almost want to say ‘who are you and what have you done with Spite’.”

“Still want Rook.” Spite clarified. “To touch. And taste. And tease…” its eyes glinted at all the possibilities. “But… we made a deal.”

“So we did…” Lucanis tried not to think about what happened after they had made that second deal. He sighed and finished off his cup.

---

“I don’t know…” Rook eyed his form in the mirror, turning his body so he could better see the full outfit. “You think it’s too much? Or rather… not enough?”

Isabela had given him an elaborate Lords of Fortune outfit that consisted mostly of gold and jewels. Blue silk was strategically draped over his person, leaving little to the imagination. His arms and legs were bare, showing off his more intricate Mourn Watcher tattoos, as well as his stomach. Behind him two more blue lengths of cloth hung from his shoulders, this time woven to look like dragon scales. They had moved to Isabela’s quarters so Rook could have some privacy to try it on.

“Rook!” Bellara cupped her face with her hands in awe. “That looks so good on you!”

“If the Lords of Fortune know one thing,” Isabela said as she appraised Rook’s look. “It’s how to show off the goods.” 

Taash just whistled.

“I like it, i just…” Rook frowned and spun in front of the mirror. “I don’t know, it doesn’t feel quite right.”

“That’s alright, we have options!” Isabela said as she moved over to her bed where she had set a few boxes she’d brought in for him. “Tell me, what’s the vibe you’re looking for? What would set Lucanis’ heart on fire?”

Rook hummed at that, still eyeing himself in the mirror. “Something… classy. Elegant. Maybe something more… teasing than this?”

Isabela chuckled. “I see, just give him a taste so his imagination can fill in the blanks? In that case I have just the thing.” She opened one of the boxes and pulled out the black leather jacket with the feathered collar that Rook had been eyeing before. “And in Antivan Crow blue. It’s inspired by an old friend of mine.”

“Yes! That’s the one!” Rook practically sprinted to her to grab the jacket. “I saw this before, but wasn’t able to afford it.” He looked up at her with pleading eyes. “Are you sure?”

“Sweetie, it’s impossible to say no when you look at me like that.” She teased with a wink. “Just think of this as an early wedding gift.”

That got Rook’s face turning redder than a tomato. “H-hey, let’s not get ahead of ourselves. I haven’t even had my first kiss yet!” He admitted in a flustered voice.

The other three in the room looked at each other, then looked back at Rook.

“You… haven’t ever kissed anyone?” Taash asked with a raised brow.

Rook grabbed the rest of the outfit and fled behind the divider screen to change before his face started glowing like red lyrium. “I... never really had the chance. Not many options when the only people around you are spirits and corpses.”

“I’d kiss a spirit.” Taash decided with a nod.

Rook’s mind flashed to Spite. So would he. “The point is I just… never really thought about it before.” He said as he changed out of the revealing ‘armor’ and all its golden bangles. “I’d been so focused on my studies that I guess it just… slipped my mind.”

“Then it’s settled.” Isabela rested a hand on her hip. “Our goal is to get Rook a kiss from the Crow of his dreams. And this…” she added as Rook stepped out from behind the partition. The feathers tickled the back of his neck, something he’d have to get used to, but otherwise it felt pretty good. “This is the first step.” Isabela said with a grin.

---

They had a plan.

Rook was going to go to Treviso first and wait in the market for Bellara and Lucanis under the guise of shopping for the team. They’d do their shopping and Bellara would excuse herself back to the Lighthouse with the groceries while Rook says there was still a few things he wanted, inviting Lucanis to stay with him. All the while acting like he wasn’t showing off his new look. Then he and Lucanis would share a kiss under the Treviso night sky, Spite’s wings wrapping around him and pulling him closer…

The mage shook his head. No time for fantasies. He pushed his nerves down and took a deep breath as he browsed a market stall selling various crystals and gems. He wasn’t really paying attention to them, instead he focused on listening for his companions’ voices. So focused, in fact, that he didn’t notice the other Crow who had come up behind him and slipped a hand around his waist. “Well, what do we have here?” Illario asked in his smooth, suave voice. “The little bird out all alone again?” He tutted and shook his head.

The hand on Rook’s waist made him freeze, and he had been a few seconds away from spinning around and forcing the body it was attached to back with a mind blast. When he recognized it was Illario, instead he just politely took a step away. “Good to see you too, Illario.” His tone came out a little dryer than he intended.

The Crow placed a hand over his heart in a show of dramatics. “What have I done to offend you to be greeted as coldly as that?” He asked, then with a smirk he reached out to take Rook’s chin in his fingers so they were looking into each other’s eyes. “Is there a way I can make it up to you, little bird?”

“You can stop calling me ‘little bird’ for one.” Rook gently moved the other’s hand away from his face. “It’s Rook.”

“A rook is a little bird.” Illario countered, unphased by the mage’s rejection. In fact, he took this moment to slowly eye up and down Rook’s body. “Very similar to crows, in fact.”

“It’s still not my name.” Rook crossed his arms over his chest, suddenly self conscious about his choice of attire. He wanted to show off for Lucanis, not Illario.

The Crow laughed. “Very well, I shall simply have to come up with another name for you.” He glanced around them, quickly, never breaking that smirk. “Are you waiting for my cousin again?”

“Just… picking up supplies for the team.” Rook lied. Well, half-lied.

“Dressed like that?” Illario gestured at Rook, and in the same movement grabbed the age's hand and brought it up to his lips. The kiss he placed there was much less chaste than how Lucanis had greeted that sweet book shop owner. “Such a waste, don’t you think? Wouldn’t you rather be dancing under the stars? Swaying to the music and being held close by someone who can truly cherish your exquisite form?”

Rook noticed his face getting hot, and in a panic realized that Illario’s charms were starting to work. He quickly pulled his hand away and took another step back, averting his eyes and brushing some hair back behind his ear. “Thanks, but… Lucanis–”

“Is a fool.” Illario interrupted, taking a step closer so they were just inches apart, “to let a shining diamond such as you slip through his fingers."

“Lucanis, wait!” Rook heard Bellara’s voice and his heart stopped. He turned just in time to see the assassin’s form turning a corner away from the market with their elven friend running after him.

“Shit.” Rook didn’t even bother saying goodbye to Illario. Instead he pushed past him and ran after Lucanis.

---

Bellara stood in the middle of the bridge, looking around her with worry in her eyes. Treviso was a complex city, especially compared to what she was used to, and Lucanis was an expert at navigating it.

“Bellara!” Rook called as he ran up to her. When he stopped, he hunched over to catch his breath before he also looked around them. “Where’d he go?”

Bellara shook her head apologetically. “I’m sorry, I lost him. He is a Crow–with literal wings! If he doesn’t want to be found… we won’t find him.”

Rook sighed and leaned against the railing of the bridge. “Dammit… what happened? What’d you guys see?”

“Illario with his hands all over you. I’m sorry, Rook! You were right about the jealousy thing. I mean, Lucanis not taking it well, that is…”

“I wasn’t even trying to make him jealous. Illario just… caught me off guard. Andraste's tits…” He kicked at the stone next to him.

“Don’t worry, we can fix this!” Bellara insisted. “We can split up, and…”

“Bellara, you go back to the Lighthouse in case he went home.” Rook said, pointing back towards the Cantori Diamond. “I know Treviso pretty well by now, so I can search around here for a while before heading back.”

The elf nodded. “Right! Great plan! I’ll see you back at the Lighthouse!” She turned and ran off to find the Eluvian.

Rook sighed, placing his hands on his hips as he stared up at the stars. “Great… so much for Plan Let’s-Get-Rook-a-Kiss-From-the-Crow-of-His-Dreams…”

Just as he was about to take a step, a strong arm hooked around his neck from behind and pulled him back hard. He reached up to grab at it and shout, but another hand pressed a cloth to his mouth. A sweet scent filled his lungs just before the world went black.

Notes:

Thank you, thank you! I've got some juicy angst planned coming up here soon so stay tuned!

Chapter 8: Voracity

Summary:

Rook is kidnapped by Venatori and held at the mercy of Zara. Lucanis and the rest of the Veilguard rush to find him.

Notes:

This chapter is going to be much darker in tone, as I've stumbled onto a plot I wasn't originally planning. Stick with me through this ride and I promise it'll pay off in the end!

“Kill. Illario!” Spite shouted, circling Lucanis as he sat on a rooftop across from the Cantori Diamond. One leg dangled over the side while his elbow rested on the other raised knee. “He. Touched. Our. Rook.”

“We are not killing Illario.” Lucanis repeated sternly. “Rook is a grown man. If he’s interested in my cousin, he has the right to act on it.” The words were painful even for him to say. At the same time, he knew his cousin's reputation for breaking hearts. And Rook's heart was a precious treasure...

“No! Rook is ours! We made a deal!” The demon’s wings twitched behind it, itching to slice through a certain Dellamorte’s neck.

“I said if Rook wants us.” Lucanis pointed out. “We cannot force him to be with us.”

Spite roared in frustration and kicked off a roof tile. “We protect Rook! If Illario hurts him…” there was a cold, unspoken threat in there.

“If Illario hurts Rook in any way, we will make him pay.” Lucanis agreed, but then added. “But no killing family.”

Spite pouted, but at least it seemed to have gotten its tantrum out of its system. It sat beside Lucanis and stared out over the city. “Smelled like blood. And rose petals. Don’t like Illario.”

There was a deep sadness that Lucanis was trying to ignore. He was trying to remain practical, especially since Spite was emotional enough for both of them, but the idea that he had ruined his chances with Rook itched in the back of his mind. He’d waited too long, had rejected him one too many times. Of course Rook would give up, and Illario was right there to swoop in and snatch him up. Even seeing the mage choose Davrin over him wouldn’t have been as painful. “I know, Spite…” he said softly. Idly, he pulled out one of his knives to fidget with. It was the Wyvern Tooth dagger that Rook had bought for him on their first outing in Treviso. Not very practical for his style of fighting, but it was beautiful. And it was from Rook. Rook, who didn’t even know about the assassin’s childhood love of Wyverns. That might have been when Lucanis had started to fall in love.

Movement across from him caught his eye, and he noticed Bellara taking the zipline up to the Crow’s Nest where the Eluvian rested. She was looking around her frantically as she ran up the stairs. She must have been looking for him, but Rook wasn’t with her. Was he still back in the market, then? Did he go off with Illario? Lucanis decided he didn’t want to know. In one quick movement he stood and dusted off his coat, sliding the dagger back into its place as he did. “I think I need to find something to stab.” He looked down at Spite. “Shall we?”

---

It wasn’t until morning that the Crow returned to the Lighthouse. He spent the night stalking stray Antaam patrols and brooding on the rooftops. He was tired and bloody–not his blood–when he walked up the steps from the Eluvian room. To his surprise, everyone was sitting at the circular meeting table when he arrived. Well… almost everyone.

They all turned to see his confused expression, but before he could ask anything Bellara sprang up from her seat. “Lucanis! There you are! Is Rook with you?!”

“Rook?” A jolt of dread shot through the Crow like lightning. “Why would he be with me?”

“We haven’t seen him all night.” Emmrich replied. His grip on his staff was tight from worry.

“He said he was going to look around Treviso for you before coming back.” Bellara explained quickly. “But he never came back!”

Lucanis looked down at his blood soaked boots. “I suppose he and Illario had a good time last night, then.”

“No!” Bellara grabbed Lucanis’ shoulders so he’d look back up at her. “That’s the thing! Rook isn’t interested in Illario at all. It’s you he’s in love with!”

The room was quiet as the assassin stared in disbelief at his elven companion. Neve had said essentially the same thing the day before, but not in such direct words. Hearing them so bluntly finally made it click.

“If Rook isn’t with Lucanis or Illario… where is he?” Harding asked, breaking the silence.

“We need to go back to Treviso.” Lucanis decided. As he stepped into the role of leader, Spite’s wings extended from his back. “Neve. Davrin. With me. We will scout from the rooftops.” He pointed to them both. “Emmrich, Taash, and Harding you scout from the ground. Bellara?” He looked at the expectant elf. “We need someone to stay behind in case he comes back.”

She seemed disappointed that she wouldn’t be helping, but she nodded anyway. “Right.”

“Let’s move.”

---

The metallic stench of blood was the first thing that hit the mage as he came to. He groaned and tried to move his arms, but couldn’t. They were held behind him, locked in what felt like iron manacles that engulfed his whole hand. He opened his eyes to see a vast pool of red stretching out in front of him through golden bars. It looked like it had once been a bath, one of those elaborate Antivan style baths with hot water constantly flowing through them and took up an entire room. The sheer amount of blood needed to fill a place like that… Rook felt he might throw up.

“Aww, looks like the little bird is awake.” A feminine voice echoed around the chamber.

Rook’s eyes darted around, but he didn’t see anyone. He realized he was in a cage suspended above the pool, high enough up that if he fell it would likely knock him out. “You know,” he called out, “It’s usually polite to take someone to dinner first before tying them up.”

“Aren’t you adorable? I can see why my dear Lucanis is so fond of you.” A form emerged from the churning dark liquid. It was a woman with dark hair and wicked eyes. If she hadn’t been completely covered in blood, Rook might have said she was beautiful.

“Zara Renata, I presume?” Rook asked and shifted against the bars so he could try and see more of the layout of the room.

“Oh, has Lucanis told you about me? How sweet.” She stopped below his cage, looking up at him with a deceptively charming smile. “You’re going to make such a lovely test subject. I wonder what kind of demon we can make out of you?”

“Sorry, all full up on voices in my head. But thanks for the offer.” He tried to summon his magic, but felt nothing. The manacles around his hands burned in response, causing him to hiss in pain. Seemed like they were enchanted to counter any spell he tried to cast.

“Don’t strain yourself, darling.” Zara laughed and flicked her wrist in his direction. Two large gashes crossed his chest in the shape of an X and immediately started to bleed. “Not to worry. Soon your dashing Crow will come storming in to save you, just in time to watch you die.” Zara promised and turned around to sink lower into her vile bath.

---

“Lucanis.” Neve’s voice caught the Crow's attention as they stepped out of the Eluvian and into Treviso’s morning air. The city felt different during the day, somehow less active. More sinister, like a sleeping dragon waiting for its next meal to walk into its lair.

Lucanis turned to Neve, and she pointed to something stuck into the wall next to the Eluvian. A blood soaked rose. A piece of parchment with elegant red writing glistening in the center was being pinned by the rose. He took a step forward to read it.

 

Lucanis,

Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of your little pet

Love, Zara

 

Anger flared through the assassin and Spite’s voice roared out of him. “No! She will not. Take. Rook!” He drew a dagger and sliced the head of the rose clean off its stem.

“Easy…” Davrin warned, his hand already on the hilt of his sword. “We won’t let anything happen to Rook.”

“Let’s see if the Crows have any information on the Venatori in the city.” Neve suggested calmly, her detective instincts taking over.

The two of them were far too calm for how much rage was boiling in both man and demon, but Lucanis regained control and took a deep breath. They needed to focus. They couldn’t afford to make mistakes because of unchecked emotion. “We need to hurry.” He said and led the group into the Diamond.

---

Rook leaned against the bars, already feeling exhausted. The wound on his chest never stopped bleeding, instead the blood ran down the bars of the cage and dripped into the pool below him as if drawn down to it. It probably was. His wrists burned from trying to break his restraints, trying to summon even a spark of magic. He hadn’t come this far just to die to some blood crazed Venatori witch.

How could he have let himself get kidnapped right off the streets? It was embarrassing, but at least he had the hope that the others would be looking for him. He had Neve Gallus on the case; he’d be out of there in time for lunch. Right? And Lucanis…

Rook closed his eyes. Maybe he could reach out and touch the Fade. Could he connect with Solas outside of the Lighthouse? Would he be able to admit to the Dread Wolf that he’d been captured and needed help? What could the elf even do besides mock him for being so careless?

His eyes snapped open as he felt his cage begin to lower. With a groan he pushed himself off the bars to see what was going on. It stopped just as he came eye level with Zara Renata. He scrunched his nose. “You smell even worse up close.”

“The cheeky ones are always my favorite.” She let her fingers glide over the bars of the gilded cage. Rook only then noticed that there were at least half a dozen other Venatori mages surrounding him, and his mask of confidence began to crack. They raised their hands towards him and began to chant. The blood of the pool rose up and swirled around them as the magic began to build.

“What are you doing?” He tried to make his voice sound as angry as possible to hide the panic.

Zara’s bloodstained hand reached between the bars for him, and he pressed himself back against the other side. “Now, now… this won’t hurt. Much.” She chuckled and made a beckoning motion with her hand. He was pulled towards her until her fingers could grip his mouth and force it open.

Rook tried to fight, tried to move away, but the swirling blood around him kept him in place. Varric had said the mage could think his way out of any situation, but this time he couldn’t see how he was going to avoid what was coming.

The blood covered mage raised her other hand, and in it was a pulsing, glistening, dark read... was that a heart? Zara laughed at the panic in Rook’s eyes. “After Lucanis is dead, I think you’ll be my new favorite.”

Zara pushed the beating heart between Rook’s lips, and he squeezed his eyes shut. He tried to protest, tried to spit it back out, but her hand quickly clamped around his mouth. He was forced to swallow it, but it didn’t want to stay down. Zara kept her hold on him as his body struggled against the invading substance. First he felt disgusted, nauseous, like he'd burst at any second. Then his whole body went hot, his skin burning as if off fire. He writhed and tried desperately to escape Zara's hold. Stars flashed before his eyes just before everything faded to black.

---

It was almost sunset by the time Lucanis, Neve, and Davrin were climbing up to the roof of the abandoned Chantry. It had taken far too long to find and slice their way through Venatori minions to find the information they needed. Rook had been in Zara’s claws for hours. Long enough to…

“Someone’s there.” Davrin called out as Lucanis hoisted himself up from the ladder leading to the rooftop.

“Is that…?” Lucanis took point and ran up to the figure who was now holding out his hands in welcome.

“There you are! What took you so long?” Illario greeted them as if they weren’t on a desperate rescue mission. “Did you stop for coffee again?”

“Illario? What are you doing here?” Lucanis didn’t have the time or patience to deal with his cousin right then. Spite growled and began to circle the other Crow.

“I’m coming with you, cousin. No arguments.”

“This is my job.”

“This is Crow business.”

Spite sniffed the air and turned its glare to Lucanis. “Blood. And rose petals.” It reminded him gravely.

No. Lucanis refused to entertain that thought, and yet that itch in the back of his mind was persistent. “How did you even know we’d be here?”

“I feel partially responsible for what happened to Rook.” Illario said with his hand over his heart. “Back in the market I let him run off after you alone. I assumed he’d be safe with you.”

“Avoiding the question!” Spite pointed out with another growl.

A pang of shame stabbed through Lucanis’ heart like a knife. He was the one who was supposed to protect Rook, not Illario. Rook was taken right from under him because he’d run away. “This isn’t your type of job, cousin.” Lucanis insisted after a beat. “There’s no one you can charm into dropping their guard. Only fanatics. All you can do is get yourself killed.”

Anger briefly flashed in his cousin’s eyes before he donned a look of hurt. “You think I’m not good enough?”

“Are you?” Lucanis challenged.

The two stared each other down for a few seconds before Illario relented. “Fine. Have it your way, cousin. You know best.”

---

Emptiness. Devouring. Yearning.  

 

Rook shivered in the darkness. He could see nothing, hear nothing. Only the sensation of a hollow emptiness deep in his gut reminded him he was still alive.

 

Ravenous. Craving. Starving.

 

Four yellow eyes stared at the mage from the dark, unblinking.

 

Insatiable. Need. Hunger.

 

Seeing no other way out of this pit, he reached towards them. He tried to speak, but his mouth was too dry to form words. The eyes came closer, and around them formed the frame of a thin, boney wolf. Its fur was white, almost ethereal against the blackness around them. It stopped just in front of his fingers, eyes still locked onto his own. Rook reached forward just a little more until he could touch its muzzle, and as he did that agonizing hole in the center of his being grew. It consumed his mind until all he could think about was trying to fill it.

 

Voracity.

Notes:

This idea has been in my head since I heard a certain banter between Emmrich and Bellara. I didn't know if I was going to include it, but the drama of it all is just too good for me to ignore!

Chapter 9: Smells Like... Vengeance and Betrayal

Summary:

Rook is rescued from his Venatori captors, but he'll never be the same again.

The next time Rook stirred, he couldn’t remember where he was or why he was there. He opened his eyes to see the golden bars of his cage still in front of him. How long had he been there? The scent of fresh blood hit him, but instead of recoiling from the metallic smell... he felt the urge to inhale deeply.

“My, my… you accepted that rather quickly, didn’t you?” Zara Renata’s voice sounded from behind him. He was too weak to turn around, but he didn’t need to. She circled her prisoner while her fingers playfully slid across the bars. “This is a new experiment I’ve been cooking up, but so far they’ve all been failures. The other useless slaves we used as test subjects didn’t even make it past the first phase. You must be quite special indeed.”

Rook could barely concentrate on her words. His stomach ached with hunger, a gnawing need deep down that begged to be satiated.

“You see, with my experiments in the Ossuary we wanted to grow new demons through living hosts. The demon would emerge, shedding its body like a snake skin and ready to submit to my will.” Zara giggled at the idea and reached in to stroke his hair. “But I wanted to try something a little different. Lucanis inspired me, you see. What if, instead of wasting a perfectly good vessel, we created a new kind of abomination? Demon and human so intertwined that it would be impossible to tell where one ended and the other began.”

Abomination? That word snapped Rook back into reality like a splash of cold water. He was still weak, still agonizingly empty, but he grunted and tried to sit up to get away from her disgusting fingers. “Fuck… you…” he croaked out in a voice as dry as his throat.

“Aww, what’s wrong little bird? Are you hungry?” With a smug grin, she unlatched the cage door and let it swing open. Rook couldn’t stand up if he tried, so that brief glimpse of freedom was nothing but cruel. He hadn’t noticed before, but Zara held a small bowl in her other hand. She lifted one leg to rest on the cage so she could lean in closer to him.

Rook pressed himself against the opposite bars as best he could, but there was no escape from her. Again she grabbed his jaw and held his mouth open as he fruitlessly struggled against her. Slowly Zara tipped the bowl into his mouth, and he instantly recognized what it was.

 

Blood.

 

He expected a wave of disgust to wash over him, for his body to reject it and spit it back in the Venatori bitch’s face, but… no. No, it tasted… good. He wanted more. A red fog clouded his mind as he eagerly drank from the bowl, and when the last drop hit his tongue and Zara pulled the dish away he found himself leaning towards it as if craving just one more drop.

“Good boy.” Zara extracted herself from the cage and locked the door. “If you keep being such an obedient pet, I might even let you be the one to kill Lucanis. I’m sure his blood will taste even sweeter.”

---

As satisfying as it was to cut through Zara’s highest ranking underlings, Lucanis’ mind was only on Rook. Andraste, Maker, Dread Wolf–he prayed to anyone who could possibly listen that he wasn’t too late. He knew Rook wasn’t dead. No, Zara wouldn’t let an opportunity like this go to waste by killing him so quickly. That was what worried the assassin the most.

He and Spite had never been so in sync. Their movements were fluid and precise, leaving almost no chance for Davrin or Neve to even get a hit in. They shared a singular thought: Save. Rook.

“I think this is it.” Neve said as they made their way through a narrow corridor. “The innermost part of the Chantry. Zara must be here.”

“Smells like blood. Lots of blood.” Spite added, though he didn’t need to. Even their mortal noses could smell the signature metallic sting as they moved closer.

There was something else echoing through the halls, a voice. A voice, singing quietly and getting louder with each step. Rook. Lucanis’ stride turned into a sprint.

---

Rook tried to focus on breathing. Zara had raised his cage back up, so tantalizingly far away from the pool of red liquid below him. Now that he had a taste of it, he wanted more. In the back of his mind he was disgusted by this incurable new craving, but it was hard to think when all he could smell was blood.

This was the demon inside him. Voracity, he felt it was called. He didn’t hear voices or see it manifesting outside himself. This thing was nothing like Spite. It was more animalistic, primal. Insatiable. He could feel it inside him, like a void that continuously swirled inside his body. But… it was still a Spirit, right? If that was the case…

“The Shepherd's… lost…” He began to sing quietly, his voice still hoarse and cracked. “And his home… is far…”

Zara glanced up at the mage in amusement. “Oh, not just a little bird, then? A songbird.”

Rook ignored her and kept singing. “Keep to the stars… the dawn… will… come…” he licked his lips and took a shaky breath. This had to work. “The night is long… and the path is dark…”

It was working. He could feel the swirling void slow as if it was being lulled to sleep. His voice gained more confidence. “Look to the sky… For one day soon… The dawn will come.”

“Rook!” Lucanis’ voice cut through the fog in Rook’s mind, and his heart ached with hope.

“Lucanis!” He called back just as his Crow ran into the chamber. He was able to sit up on his knees from pure adrenaline. Neve and Davrin followed not far behind.

“Lucanis.” Zara cooed from where she lounged in her pool of blood. “It’s terribly uncivilized to drop in on a lady unannounced. Now the evening’s ruined.”

Spite’s wings spread wide behind the Crow as he stared Zara down. There was hatred in his eyes, of course, but also a shine of excitement. Both he and Spite were going to enjoy killing her. “I’ll ruin more than the evening, Zara.” His voice was a mix of Spite’s and Lucanis’. With that, he lunged into battle.

It was hard for Rook to keep up with everything. More and more Venatori backup seemed to materialize out of nowhere. Just how many Venatori were there in Thedas? Surely just their group alone had killed hundreds up to that point. He tried to keep his eyes on Lucanis, but he was incredibly fast. The Crow only had eyes for Zara. Neve and Davrin busied themselves by keeping the other mages off of him.

There was a squawk and Rook’s cage rattled. He looked up to see Assan had perched himself on top of it and was nipping at the chain and lock to try and get the mage out. “Good boy, Assan!” Rook praised, but a magic bolt flew right past the griffon and caused him to have to fly away to avoid more.

As the battle dragged on, the blood in the pool began to drain as the Venatori used more and more for their spells. The less blood that surrounded him, the clearer Rook could think. He pulled at his restraints again, but got an idea as a spear of ice hurled past his cage. “Neve!” He called and pressed his shackled hands through the bars as best he can. “Blast these!”

“On it!” The detective threw up a wall of ice to separate her from the approaching Venatori and then pointed her staff at the restraints. Cold surged through them, and the metal began to crack. One more tug and–there! His hands were finally free.

“You’re mine, Zara!” Lucanis’ voice carried through the noise of the battle. “This ends with my knife through your heart!”

“Temper, temper, Lucanis.” Zara replied playfully as she dodged his attacks. “Such poor manners, interrupting my bath. And all just for one little bird?”

Rook finally spotted the two of them. He still didn’t have his staff or anything else to channel his magic with, but he still had some tricks up his sleeve. He took a deep breath and felt the swirl of magic around him. Green Necrotic energy danced between his fingers and he aimed them at Zara. A blast of green light shot into the blood beneath her feet, and moments later dozens of ghostly hands broke through the surface to grab at her body.

Lucanis laughed as he managed to get a strike in while she was distracted by the spell. “Beautiful, Rook!” He called out, sending the mage’s heart fluttering.

He could feel more of his energy returning to him the longer Lucanis kept Zara inside of his spell. The spirits sapped it from her and channeled it back into him. Pretty soon the blood pool was practically empty, and to Rook’s amusement it seemed Zara was going grey because of it.

There was a metal clang of something hitting the bottom of Rook’s cage, and before he could react he found himself falling through the open bottom. He squeezed his eyes shut to brace for the impact, but instead of hitting the ground he was caught by a pair of strong arms.

“How nice of you to drop in.” An unexpected voice made Rook open his eyes in alarm. 

“Illario?”

“At your service.” He winked and set the mage down on the mostly dry floor.

The sound of battle stopped, and Rook looked away from the man who saved him to see Lucanis staring down at a defeated Zara. “So… so serious, Lucanis!” She tried to sound like she was still in control, even then as she relied heavily on the nearby pillar to help her stand. “Why don’t we talk? I can tell you much about the Venatori… and our pet Crows.”

A flash of movement from where Illario had been standing caught Rook’s attention, but when he turned the man was gone. Instead, he heard the sound of Neve’s prosthetic against the tiles as she and Davrin ran over to check on him.

“You want to know who betrayed you, don’t you?” Zara continued pleading for her life. “Who sent you to the Ossuary?”

Davrin helped lift Rook up to his feet while Neve gave him a healing potion and pressed a light blue cloth–her scarf?–up against Rook’s still bleeding chest wound. But Rook’s attention was fully on Lucanis and Zara. This was it, the moment they’d find the Crow traitor, and more importantly, end Zara’s life. She’d finally pay for everything she had put Lucanis–and himself–through.

“Talk.” Lucanis demanded, though Rook could tell the hand wrapped around his dagger was twitching.

“I knew you were–” before Zara could continue Illario landed between her and Lucanis, seemingly having jumped down from the pillars above. How’d he get there so fast?

“Illario?” Lucanis was taken aback by the sudden appearance of his cousin.

“I told you. This is Crow business.” He said before turning around to face Zara.

“Amatu–” Zara reached for him, but before she could say or do anything more, the Crow grabbed her by the throat and squeezed hard. She was dead before she hit the floor.

“No! Mine!” Spite’s reaction was instant. He took over Lucanis, spreading its wings wide and blasting Illario to the ground with a magical wind. The demon pounced, bringing the dagger in Lucanis’ hand down hard, but the other Crow caught it just before it pierced his chest.

“Spite!” A surge of adrenaline gave Rook enough strength to push away from Davrin and run towards the two assassins.

Lucanis turned to look at Rook, and though his eyes still glowed it was his own voice that broke through. “Get… Illario… out!” He was fighting desperately for control.

“Hold on! I can–” Rook stumbled before he could reach them, grunting in pain as he hit the floor.

“Rook! I can’t–” Lucanis pleaded. Heart drumming in his ears, Rook took a deep breath to prepare to start singing.

“That’s enough!” Illario shouted. Suddenly, Spite’s aura dissipated from Lucanis’ body, and the assassin fell back onto the tiled floor. His dagger clattered to the ground beside him. Illario stood up straight and held his hand out over the other Crow. “Relent.” He commanded in a quiet voice Rook was likely not supposed to hear.

Rook didn’t see exactly what Illario had done, but he felt it. A metallic twang in the back of his throat. Blood magic. The mage scrambled to his feet and ran forward to kneel at Lucanis’ side. The man seemed dazed. He wasn’t unconscious, but he also didn’t seem entirely aware. Rook hooked his arm under his shoulders and held him close, the Crow’s head practically in his lap. “What did you do to him?” The mage demanded as he glared up at Illario.

“Nothing.” The other Crow answered as he took a step back from the two. He didn’t bother to hide his glare at the sight in front of him. “I don’t know what happened any better than you. You have to get him out of here.”

He was lying. Pieces started to fall into place as Rook stared at the man. Those arms that had caught him when he fell from the cage… they felt familiar. That swirling void inside of Rook began to stir again.

Illario was still talking. “Rook. Keep him away. From Treviso. From the Crows.” His gaze dropped down to his cousin. “He is a danger to the family.” With that, he turned to take his leave from that place.

As his cousin walked away, what little fight that remained in Lucanis left him and he passed out. Rook wasn’t long behind him as his adrenaline wore off.

---

“I… am so sorry.”

Rook opened his eyes to see the monochrome sky of the Fade above him. For the first time since this whole thing began, he was actually relieved to see it. And to hear the voice that came with it. He was laying on the ground, for some reason, so he pushed himself up onto his elbows with a grunt. “Why does it hurt even in the Fade?” He complained as he managed to sit up fully. His clothing in the prison reflected what he wore in the waking world, so here he was shirtless and covered in bandages that wove around his chest as if in place of a shirt.

Solas stood in his usual spot across the gap from him, but his expression was soft and empathetic. “The Fade reflects the waking world, as I’m sure you know. But more than that, this pain is… deeper rooted than you might even realize.”

Rook looked down at his blood stained pants. “Voracity…”

“What happened to you and that spirit is something I would never wish on anyone.” The Dread Wolf’s words were more sincere than Rook had ever heard before.

“You know what I’m going to ask…”

“I do, and… no. What has been done to you is… permanent. At least in all ways that are important.”

Meaning he’d have to die for them to separate. The mage glanced around him, expecting to see that yellow-eyed white wolf again now since Solas was connected to his mind.

“You will not find it here.” Solas answered the silent question. “The two of you are woven together now, tighter than I’ve seen in a long time.”

Rook’s eyes turned back to the elf. “You’ve… seen this before?”

“In a sense.” He answered smoothly. “In the Inquisition there was a Spirit of Compassion who joined our cause. Out of the grief of being unable to save a starving mage child, it bonded with the body and memories of this young boy. Cole. The situation was drastically different, as the child had already died, but they were still woven together so tightly that to separate them would have been impossible.”

“I’d take Compassion over Voracity.” Rook grumbled. He tried to stand, but as soon as he did he was overwhelmed by that gnawing emptiness once again. He groaned and clutched his stomach, curling up with his knees tucked against his chest.

He heard footsteps, and then a cool hand rested on his shoulder. Warmth spread through him at the touch, and he realized Solas must be casting some sort of healing spell. The swirling void of hunger dissolved into an easily ignored rumble. Rook’s body relaxed, and he was able to look up at the elven god standing over him. Solas smiled reassuringly at him. “You are still needed for this fight. I cannot heal you completely, but while you are in the Fade I can at least help hold the hunger back. You will have to find ways on your own to keep it at bay. However… Voracity can never be satiated.”

Rook blinked up at the elf before letting out a nervous laugh. “Great pep talk.” He said as he shook his head. “Now I know why you got thousands of supporters to your cause.”

Solas seemed amused by the sarcasm and offered his hand to help Rook onto his feet. “It helps when your opponent is an egomaniacal tyrant.”

Rook hesitated, glancing at the outstretched hand offered to him. Maybe this was a trick, maybe it wasn’t, but he was genuinely grateful for Solas’ help. He took the elf’s hand and let him pull the Necromancer up onto his feet. “Well, at least it can’t get any worse.”

Notes:

Inside Rook are two wolves... (sorry, I couldn't resist) This was a fun one to do. Action scenes are what I struggle with the most, so I hope it was okay!

Yes, Rook, how can it possibly get worse?

Song: The Dawn Will Come (Inquisition)

Chapter 10: Smells Like... Resentment and Elfroot

Summary:

Spite and Lucanis argue while Rook is trying to recover.

Lucanis woke first, his eyes fluttering open in a daze. He wasn’t sure where he was for a few seconds, but slowly he was able to recognize the ceiling of the Infirmary at the Lighthouse. There was a lingering ache behind his eyes, one he tended to get when around blood magic. He was able to ignore it during the fight mostly due to adrenaline, and… well… spite.

The fight. Zara. Illario. Rook.

The Crow sat up quickly, too quickly, and dizziness swept over his vision momentarily.

“You’re awake.” Davrin’s voice came from the doorway. He was leaning against the wall with one hand resting on the hilt of the sword on his belt. His tone suggested that any trust the two might have built up over their time journeying together was now on thin ice. “That is Lucanis, right?”

“Mierda… yes, it’s me.” Lucanis answered in an annoyed tone and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Welcome back, Lucanis.” Emmrich said softly from the other side of the room. He sat in a chair beside one of the cots, one hand held over the occupant and one gripped around his staff. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I was just run over by a stampeding bronto…” Lucanis glanced up to look at the mage and his breath hitched. Rook lay on the cot in front of him.  His expression was troubled, and Emmrich used a handkerchief to dab sweat from his brow. His chest was wrapped in bandages that were already starting to soak through. “Rook.” Lucanis pushed himself off the bed, intending to go to Rook’s side.

Davrin, however, stepped into his path with a scowl. “Hold on. You just tried to murder your own cousin, Crow. You’re not going anywhere near Rook.”

Lucanis clenched his fists at his side and squared up to Davrin. “I just led a rescue mission to save Rook’s life. I would never hurt Rook.”

“Rook was only captured because of you.” Davrin continued to stare him down, his fingers wrapping around the hilt of his blade.

“No!” Spite’s wings erupted from Lucanis’ back, causing Davrin to draw his sword.

“Try it, demon!” The Warden warned and aimed his blade at the assassin. In a blink there was a knife held to the elf's throat, putting the two of them at a stand still.

“Gentleman!” Emmrich stood and slammed the bottom of his staff against the floor with a loud crack to get their attention. “Both of you calm down at once or leave. This isn’t the time, nor the place.”

Spite’s wings faded as the two men took a step back from each other. Davrin sheathed his sword and moved back to silently lean against the wall again, still glaring at Lucanis.

“Lucanis…” Emmrich’s voice was softer now as he sat back down beside his fellow Watcher. “It’s alright.”

Without another thought towards Davrin, the assassin made his way over to the cot where Rook slept. He knelt down beside him and took his hand. “Rook…” was all he could manage to say without risk of losing his composure.

Spite was on the other side, next to Emmrich. It reached a tentative hand towards Rook’s head to brush away some stray strands of hair. “Rook… is hurt.” Spite said in an uncharacteristically soft voice. “We couldn’t protect Rook…”

“This wasn’t your fault.” Emmrich reassured the spirit. “Either of you.” He added with a look to Lucanis.

Davrin made a noise of disagreement, but otherwise kept his mouth shut.

The Crow glanced up at Emmrich. “Is… is Illario…?”

“Unharmed.” Emmrich confirmed.

Lucanis sighed, unsure if he felt relief or disappointment. Perhaps both. He felt tears stinging the edge of his eyes. “I’m not losing anyone else… I can’t… Rook, please…”

---

Three days had passed since Rook had been rescued from the Venatori. Emmrich stitched up the wound on his chest caused by Zara’s blood magic, as the usual healing spells were proving ineffective at keeping it closed. Even dead, her magic was a powerful force. The atmosphere of the Lighthouse was bleak. Everyone waited in quiet anticipation for their leader to finally wake up.

Lucanis hardly left Rook’s side. He and Emmrich worked to make sure he was comfortable, that his bandages were clean, and that he was at least getting fluids. Manfred brought them food and water when they needed it. And coffee, by special request of Lucanis. It… wasn’t the best, but Manfred was a skeleton so the assassin hadn’t expected much. It was at least better than Neve’s.

Davrin was eventually convinced to ease up on Lucanis. Mostly by Assan who wanted more truffles. Though, it turned out he wanted them for Rook. On the second day he came trotting into the infirmary carrying a truffle in his beak. He placed it gently on the bed beside the mage’s feet with a gentle coo. He was worried about Rook, too.

Lucanis wasn’t sure what time it was anymore. Time was already hard to tell in the Lighthouse, but it was even worse when all he could do was wait. Emmrich had stepped out to get some air and search his library for any more books that might be able to help them, so now it was just Lucanis and Rook. And Spite.

Spite spent their time equally split between pacing, throwing random objects at the wall, and sitting at Rook’s bedside quietly. They were at the “sitting quietly” phase of their day, staring at Rook as he slept. “Told you.” They said eventually in a low growl.

Lucanis glanced up at them. “Told me what?”

“Illario.” Spite’s eyes snapped up to meet the assassin’s. “We should have killed him!”

“Spite, we have talked about this.” Lucanis answered in a tired voice.

“Illario. Took Rook!” Spite stood, their hands curled into tight fists. “He gave him! To Zara!”

“We don’t know that for sure.”

The demon growled and threw a glass cup at the wall across from them, causing it to shatter.

“Hey!” Lucanis stood up now. “This is exactly why Davrin didn’t want to leave us alone with Rook.”

“Would never! Hurt! Rook!”

“How can I trust that?” The Crow demanded. “How can I trust you won’t lose control of your petty little tantrums again and end up hurting Rook!?”

Spite’s nostrils flared. “We made! A deal!”

“And then you seduced me to make me drop my guard.” The Crow pointed out. “You are a demon. Demons lie and manipulate to get what they want. Why should I believe you are any different?”

If Lucanis didn’t know better, he would swear he saw a flash of hurt on the demon’s face before it was back to rage. Its wings spread out behind it and beat them once menacingly. “Lucanis. Is the liar.”

“What?” The assassin let out a laugh of disbelief.

“Lucanis said. We protect Rook! Said staying away. Was protection!” Spite gestured to the mage sleeping between them. “We stayed away! Rook got hurt! Lucanis is a liar!”

“That’s not–”

“Lucanis. Broke. Our. Deal!” Suddenly Spite used its wings to jump over the bed and pounce on the assassin. The cot behind Lucanis was shoved out of the way as he was slammed into the floor. The demon pinned him down by the throat and brandished one of Lucanis’ own knives in its other hand.

The Crow tried to push the demon off of him, but it was like he was being held down mentally as well as physically. He had a grip on both of its arms to keep it from getting any closer with that knife. “You want to kill me? Go ahead. See how that turns out for you.” He goaded the demon.

Spite growled again, its grip on Lucanis’ throat tightening. “Lucanis. Broke. Both. Deals.”

“What… are you talking about?” It was getting harder to speak, and the assassin tried again to push the demon away.

“...Lucanis?” A small, weak voice made both the assassin and the demon stop in their tracks.

Spite was instantly gone from on top of Lucanis, letting the knife clatter to the ground. The Crow coughed and rubbed his throat as he pushed himself up, but he didn’t care about himself at that moment. “Rook…” he was instantly back at the mage’s side, gently taking his hand. He ignored Spite who stood opposite him with his own fingers resting over Rook’s other hand.

Rook’s eyes were groggy and unfocused, but as soon as he registered that it was indeed his Crow standing over him, a smile spread across his lips. “You’re okay… good.”

Lucanis chuckled. “I should be saying that to you, cariño.”

Spite’s fingers ran across Rook’s, and the mage lazily looked in their direction as if he could feel it. “...Spite?”

“I’m here…” Spite said, though Rook couldn’t hear them. Still, the mage turned his hand over, palm facing up. The demon’s fingers laced into his perfectly.

Rook tried to push himself up, so Lucanis helped prop his pillow up so he could sit comfortably. All while never letting go of his hand. “Rook… are you okay?” There were a million smaller questions inside of that one, but that seemed like a good place to start.

The mage didn’t answer at first, and took so long in fact that Lucanis started to worry. But eventually he did reply, “No… I…” his eyes started to focus as his memories of being captured replayed in his head. “I… need some water.”

Lucanis let go of Rook’s hand briefly to grab the water pitcher. Unfortunately the cup was now scattered across the floor, so he just held the pitcher up to his lips. The mage closed his eyes and drank deeply, hungrily. When the Crow tried to move the pitcher away, Rook grabbed it to keep it steady. He drained the whole thing before gasping and resting his head back against the wall.

Lucanis and Spite shared a nervous glance. The assassin broke the silence. “Rook… did… did Zara…?”

Rook closed his eyes. He didn’t speak, instead his answer came in the form of hot tears slowly falling down his cheeks.

“Mierda…” Lucanis took his hand again, this time in both of his. “Rook, I… there aren’t words enough to apologize. This is all my fault.” Spite was right. The Crow had made the wrong call, and it got his Rook hurt. What was the answer, then?

Rook opened his eyes and shook his head. “No, it’s not.” He insisted, weakly squeezing the other man’s hand. “You came for me… that’s all that matters.”

“It should never have come to that…” Lucanis insisted. “And Illario…”

Rook made a face at that name. “He wants you to stay away from the Crows. He thinks you’re a danger to your family.” He said with a scoff as if that was a ridiculous thing to say.

“He’s not wrong. If I cannot stay in control…” The Crow glanced over at Spite, whose eyes were fixed on him now. “...He used blood magic to control Spite.”

“I knew I felt something.” Rook raised his head, sitting up a little straighter. “But… Illario isn’t a mage. How…?”

“I don’t know, but… something’s not right.”

Rook looked down in thought. “The night you were captured…” He glanced back up at the assassin, “...did Illario know you were boarding that ship?”

“Yes.” Lucanis answered simply.

It seemed like the two of them had come to the same grim conclusion. “I think… I think it was Illario who kidnapped me.”

“Knew it!” Spite bellowed, squeezing Rook’s hand hard enough to earn an ‘ow’ from him. “...Sorry.” They released the mage’s hand.

Rook lightly shook that hand, but then set it back down like before in case Spite wanted to take it again. They did.

Lucanis took a deep breath to calm his own rising emotions. “I never thought… my own cousin.”

“I’m sorry, Lucanis…”

The Crow shook his head. “We were close, once. Raised more like brothers than cousins. I trusted him with my life. I thought he was the one constant I could count on.”

“You still have me.” Rook said softly.

Lucanis met his eyes, and he never wanted to look away again. “Rook… I…”

The door to the infirmary opened, and Manfred walked in holding a tray of refreshments. Hot coffee for Lucanis, some tea for Emmrich, and some fresh water. The skeleton let out an excited hiss and nearly spilled the drinks to rush over to Rook.

“Manfred, no running in the Lighthouse!” Emmrich scolded with a sigh, but then his eyes lit up when he saw Rook awake. “Rook! Thank Andraste. How are you feeling, my dear?”

Rook couldn’t help but chuckle at Manfred’s excitement. “Better now, I think…” he smiled at Lucanis, who reciprocated by lightly kissing the mage’s fingers.

Lucanis gratefully accepted his coffee, releasing Rook’s hand so the mage could take the water. He put the pitcher to his lips and closed his eyes. Once again he gulped down the water like he had been wandering a desert and finally found an oasis.

“Oh dear…” Emmrich took his tea cup from Manfred, watching his young protégé with concerned eyes. “Rook… I don’t want to push you if you’re not ready, but… can you tell us what happened? While you were being held captive?”

Rook was quiet for a moment, and the others let him have his silence until he was ready to share. And he did. He shared every detail he could remember. He hadn’t wanted to spill everything out all at once, but that’s just how it ended up happening. Lucanis took his hand again in support.

“Voracity…” Emmrich put his fingers to his chin in thought. “I haven’t even heard of such a spirit. Hunger, yes, but nothing as… intense as you describe.”

“That’s Zara’s specialty.” Lucanis replied coldly. “She wanted to create new demons that no one had seen before. Like Spite.”

“I should be the only demon inside Rook.” Spite grumbled, earning a glare from Lucanis.

Emmrich sighed, but chose not to entertain that train of thought. “I will do some research, but… there is one thing that has me concerned, Rook. What you said about the blood Zara fed you…”

Just that word earned a pang of yearning from deep inside Rook’s gut. He held his hand over his stomach as if that would quiet it. “I’m… trying not to think about that part.”

“I know, but…” Emmrich looked pained as he continued. “They’re rare, but there have been reported cases of possession from Spirits of Hunger. In the dead, they cause them to turn ravenous and feast upon the living. In a living host… it could cause similar cravings. I can only imagine Voracity would intensify such cravings.”

Rook’s face paled. “Are you saying I could turn into a cannibal?”

“It might not necessarily be flesh you crave, but… it is something we should take into consideration.” 

“Mierda…” Lucanis ran his thumb over Rook’s fingers as he held his hand. He closed his eyes and took a long sip of his coffee to help ground him.

“Rook can feast. On our enemies!” Spite interjected, clearly not understanding how horrifying that concept was. “We will kill. For Rook!”

“Maker.” Emmrich held a hand over his chest. “Let’s not… get ahead of ourselves, Spite.”

Rook felt a little left out being the only one who couldn’t hear Spite. “Guys, I’ll… I’ll be okay. My singing seemed to work on it, like it… put it to sleep. If I just keep it asleep, I won’t get cravings.” As if to contradict him, a jolt of pain shot through him as his stomach cramped. He grunted and held his arms tight around himself.

All three of the others around him reached for him in concern. Lucanis and Spite had hands on his shoulders while Emmrich rested his on the mage’s knee. “I’ll make you something to eat.” Lucanis decided and stood up straight. He brushed his fingers across Rook’s cheek, earning a small blush as reward. He smiled and turned to walk out the door.

Unfortunately for Spite, that meant it had to leave as well.

---

“You’ll be okay, kid.” Varric’s voice caught Rook’s attention. He was laying in his own cot as usual with a sympathetic smile on his face. Manfred had found a broom and was sweeping up the broken glass near him. “Remember, you’re not alone in this.”

Rook smiled at Varric’s words, then turned his attention back to his mentor. “Emmrich?”

“Yes, my dear?” He had taken a seat near Rook’s cot with a book in his hand. Judging from the cover it seemed to be an encyclopedia of known spirits and demons.

“I know this might not be the best time to ask, but can you help me with something?”

“Anything you need, if it’s within my power to do I will do so.” The older mage said as he closed his book.

Rook smiled at that. “I want to hear Spite like you do. I’ve always been good with spirits, so it’s a little frustrating that I can’t hear him, too.”

Emmrich nodded. “That I can most certainly do. Your affinity for spirits and Necromantic training should make it quite simple to craft a spell to help you interact with Spite. When you are well enough, meet me in my study with Lucanis.”

Notes:

And another chapter done! I hope everyone is still having fun, because I sure am. I keep getting more and more ideas for how this is going to go. There's more than one definition of voracity, after all.

Chapter 11: Smells Like... Books and Grave Soil

Summary:

Rook nervously reveals his new situation to the gang; Lucanis and Rook get to share a brief tender moment; Emmrich helps Rook to hear Spite.

Notes:

Thank you, everyone, for such kindness! I probably sound like a broken record, but I'm just so happy others are enjoying my silly little guys.

As soon as Rook was recovered enough to stand, a meeting was called in the dining hall to discuss with everyone what happened. Rook sat at the head of the table with Lucanis at his side. The others gathered around with various expressions of concern and relief that Rook was on his feet again. Now… came the hard part.

Rook didn’t go into as much detail as he had when he confessed to Lucanis and Emmrich what Zara had done to him. All they needed to know was that he, too, was technically an Abomination. And what it meant for his demon to be Voracity.

Davrin looked the most uncomfortable. He sat with his arms crossed against his chest and stared down at the table with a scowl. There was conflict in his eyes.

“Rook… I’m so sorry.” Bellara was the first to speak up, and she blinked hot tears from her eyes. “I should never have left you alone! We should have-”

“Bellara…” Rook interrupted, “You have nothing to apologize for. This wasn’t your fault.”

Davrin shot a glare at Lucanis, his eyes conveying the message he wanted to say. They all knew whose fault it really was.

“I’m… worried about the cravings part.” Harding said, glancing between everyone anxiously. “Craving what, exactly?”

Rook looked away from the group, shame building in his chest.

Emmrich was the one who spoke up. “Voracity is an intense, insatiable desire for something. That can be anything from food, companionship, knowledge… however…”

“Blood.” Rook found the courage to look back up at the group. “For me it seems to be… blood.”

The group was quiet, all staring at Rook. Lucanis put a hand on the mage’s shoulder in support.

“Like… a vampire?” Taash asked with a skeptical look.

“I’m not a vampire.” Rook waved the idea away. “Vampires are just fantasy. But hunger demons possessing people, making them crave blood and… other things? That’s real.”

“Now we have two members of our team possessed by demons…” Neve observed, her tone neutral as always to hide how she felt about this revelation.

“This won’t affect our work.” Rook promised confidently. “I’m still me. I can still fight. But… if this is too much for any of you… I won’t blame you if you want to walk out.” He looked between his companions, hoping he was hiding his anxiety about losing any of them because of this.

Again, no one said anything. No one moved. Lucanis stared pointedly at Davrin. The elven Warden sighed and looked Rook in the eye. “We still have a job to do, and I don’t see anyone else jumping to do it. I’m not going anywhere. Besides… Assan would miss you.”

“Doesn’t bother me.” Taash added.

“We’re here for you, Rook.” Harding agreed with a smile.

A warm feeling of camaraderie spread through Rook’s chest as he looked again between his companions. His friends. He let out a breath of relief. “Thanks, guys… I promise, I won’t let you down.”

---

Everyone else cleared out of the dining room, leaving Lucanis and Rook alone. Lucanis was preparing a fresh pot of coffee for them while Rook watched him from the table. The mage rested his head in his hand, smiling as he watched his assassin work.

Spite sat on the table beside Rook. Its eyes were on the mage, watching him with intense interest. 

“I can feel your eyes on me, you know.” The Crow said without turning around. His smile could be heard in his tone.

“Good, because I don’t intend on looking away.” Rook’s heart fluttered with the flirtation.

Lucanis poured them both a cup, and then turned to bring them to the table. He carefully set Rook’s down in front of him before pulling up a chair so they could sit side-by-side, their knees almost close enough to touch. The mage raised his head and inhaled deeply. “I don’t think I can live without your coffee anymore.” He teased as he picked up his cup.

“There’s an easy solution to that…” Lucanis watched Rook with adoring eyes. He was tired of holding back his feelings for the other man, tired of denying and pushing away. He still believed this was a bad idea, dangerous even, but… in this room, in this moment… he wanted to let himself be selfish. Just once.

“Do tell…” The Watcher brought the cup to his lips, keeping his eyes on Lucanis. As soon as he took that first sip, however, something changed to make a cold shiver shoot through the Crow’s spine.

Rook’s eyes flashed yellow just before he closed them. After that first savoring taste of the coffee, he started trying to gulp it down like the water earlier.

“Mierda! Rook, you’ll burn yourself.” Lucanis reached forward and tried to gently tug the mug out of Rook’s hands and away from his lips.

“What?” Rook blinked in confusion, and his eyes returned to normal. He looked from Lucanis to the coffee cup held in both their hands and pieced together what had happened. “Ah… I’m… going to have to get a handle on that, huh?”

Spite reached out and ran their fingers through the mage’s hair, gently scratching his head. It seemed they wanted to comfort him, and judging by Rook’s expression it was working.

Lucanis frowned, but decided to ignore Spite for the moment. He slowly released his hold on the cup so Rook could put it down. “Rook… may I ask some questions about… Voracity?”

Rook leaned into Spite’s hand, enjoying the sensation and wanting to feel more of it. He looked back at Lucanis at the request, hesitating a moment. “...Yeah.”

“Can you… see it? Hear it? Like myself and Spite?”

“No…” As if to make sure, he glanced around the room. “I just… feel it. A strong… overwhelming urge for more.”

“We know how to handle. Overwhelming urges.” Spite commented with their usual smirk.

Lucanis shot the demon a warning look as Rook continued. “Solas said we were entwined too tightly to be separated. We’re not two entities fighting for the same body like you and Spite. It’s like… like all my emotions have been intensified.”

“All this after only a day in Zara’s claws…” Lucanis looked down at his coffee, feeling his stormcloud of doubts and fears bellowing over him again. “Rook, I…”

Before Lucanis could apologize again and spiral further down into his regret, Rook slowly got to his feet. This put him out of reach of Spite, who kept its hand outstretched towards the mage in hopes of making that contact again. 

Lucanis felt Rook’s arms wind around his neck as the mage drew him into a hug. It wasn’t tight at first, but rather tentative, testing, giving the Crow an escape if he wanted. Instead, he pulled Rook into his lap and held him as tight as he dared. His hands moved in small comforting circles across the mage’s back and let out a sigh of contentment.

How long had the assassin wanted to hold him like this? To smell his skin, his hair, feel his breathing against his own chest. Rook’s shirt was loose and low cut to allow his bandages to breathe, and Lucanis risked placing a soft kiss against the pale skin of his neck. “How do you always do that?” He asked as he placed more kisses along the mage’s throat.

“D-do what?” Rook’s head was tilted back all the way, his eyes lidded as he enjoyed the tickle of Lucanis’ beard.

“Break apart my perfectly gathered clouds of doom.” The Crow leaned back enough to look into Rook’s eyes. “You deserve better than to deal with my mess.”

“I like your mess.” Rook’s fingers traced along the edge of Lucanis’ vest, not breaking eye contact. “And when I’m with you I feel like I can handle mine.” He shifted how he was sitting so he was straddling the assassin, their chests pressed together eagerly.

There was a glint of desire in Lucanis’ eyes as he gave the mage a sly smirk. “This isn’t a good idea.”

“Sometimes a bad idea… is better.” Rook leaned in and rested his head against Lucanis’ affectionately.

“You like to walk a little too close to the edge.” The Crow teased, letting his hands trail down the mage’s sides to rest on his hips.

Their lips were inches apart, and Rook’s heart was racing. “So do you…”

“At least I know I’m doing it…” Lucanis closed his eyes, squeezing Rook’s hips as they slowly leaned into each other.

“Lucanis…” Spite growled out a warning.

The assassin hesitated, opening his eyes to glare at the demon for interrupting, but what he saw made him pull back even more.

Rook’s half-lidded eyes were glowing bright yellow. He was still leaning in, hoping desperately for that kiss, but Lucanis pressed his fingers to his lips and gently pushed him back. The glow faded immediately, replaced by a confused look of hurt.

Lucanis hated that he was the cause of such a look. “Mierda… I do want to kiss you, Rook. Among so many other things.” He slid his fingers across the mage’s cheek so he was cupping his face in his hand. “But I don’t want our first kiss to be like this.”

“Like…?” Rook seemed to process something as his eyes briefly flashed yellow again. He let out a ragged breath and practically collapsed into his Crow. He held him tight not from lust, but from a desperate need for comfort and touch. His sobs weren’t from the rejection, but rather the release built up from everything he had suffered through.

Lucanis held him just as tight, letting Rook cry into his chest. He understood, probably better than anyone else in the Lighthouse. He closed his eyes and let his thumbs gently rub against the mage’s back. He felt Spite’s wings wrap around them both, holding them delicately, comfortingly, and while Lucanis was still angry at the demon… he let them have this moment.

---

“This isn’t a good idea.” Lucanis leaned against the spiral stairs in Emmrich’s room, his arms crossed over his chest.

“This. Is a great idea!” Spite argued, looking excitedly between Rook and Emmrich. The latter was adjusting his magical glove as Manfred held a book open for him. The demon appeared next to the older mage and inhaled. “Smells like books and grave soil!”

“Thank you for that assessment, Spite.” Emmrich replied with a nod, though he wasn’t sure if it was intended as a compliment or not.

Rook leaned against the professor’s desk. After he had recovered from his emotional outburst with Lucanis, he had asked the other to come with him to Emmrich’s room. Said there was something important they needed to discuss. “If I can hear Spite, I might be able to better help the two of you get along,” he said.

“We get along just fine.” Lucanis insisted.

“We get along just fine.” Spite mocked, mimicking Lucanis’ pose and cadence.

The assassin counted to five in his head and rubbed his temples to try and stave back his headache.

“Spite, please do try and behave.” Emmrich said as he gestured for the two other men to take a seat in the chairs he’d had Manfred set out in the center of the room. “I agree with Rook, Lucanis. He can help the two of you in ways I cannot.”

Rook took his seat and patted the chair next to him. “Please?” He gave Lucanis his best pleading eyes.

The assassin’s one weakness. It was true that, to put it mildly, he and Spite had taken a few steps back in their relationship, and he wasn’t sure how they were going to get back in sync again. They needed to be if he was going to hit his mark the next time they faced Ghilan’nain. On his honor as a Crow, he refused to fail again. He sighed and pushed himself up to go take his seat next to Rook. “You’re going to regret this.” He warned as he took the young mage’s hand.

“Never.” Rook smiled, and Lucanis brought the mage’s fingers to his lips to plant a soft kiss across them in return.

“Excellent.” Emmrich clapped his hands together and stood in front of the chairs. “Now, Spite, if you would please stand between them.”

Spite was there in an instant, grinning. They brushed Rook’s hair behind his ear, causing the young mage to shiver from the touch. Lucanis was grateful that, if this worked, at least Rook wouldn’t be able to see Spite watching him with those lascivious eyes of theirs.

“It’s important to keep hold of each other. All three of you.” Emmrich continued. “Your connection to each other is the key ingredient of this spell.”

Spite’s free hand came to rest on Lucanis’ shoulder. The assassin glanced at it, but said nothing. Rook squeezed the hand he was still holding and then nodded to his mentor. “We’re ready, professor.”

“Very good.” Emmrich nodded. “Now, Rook… concentrate on your connection to the Fade, to spirits, and focus your magic on Spite and Lucanis.”

Rook closed his eyes and took a long, deep breath to clear his mind. He could feel Spite’s hand on his shoulder and focused on that, imagining… well, he didn’t know what exactly it looked like, but he envisioned the demon standing between them as best he could. His magic began to swirl around them in ribbons of green energy. They outlined Spite’s form, making it vaguely visible to those who couldn’t see it.

Emmrich swirled the air with his hand, letting his magic join with Rook’s, and began to chant. “Let that which binds these souls together extend its grasp. Spirit to mortal, mortal to Spirit. Let these hearts connect and become one.”

This spell was oddly… romantic, Lucanis thought. He glanced at Rook, whose eyes were still closed. The magic began to swirl faster, and the assassin felt an odd sensation in the pit of his stomach. Had something gone wrong? Emmrich frowned, starting to look strained from the energy the spell was consuming.

Sweat dripped down Rook’s face, and he could feel Voracity stirring inside him, awoken by all the magic. The mage felt panic rise in him along with the hunger. Spite’s grip on his shoulder tightened at the same time Lucanis’ did on his hand. He let that ground him and began to hum, hesitant at first, but when he felt the magic begin to calm his voice became more confident until he began to sing. “Enchanter, come to me… Enchanter, come to me… Enchanter, come to see–can you, can you come to see…”

Lucanis and Spite both watched Rook in awe. This was technically the first time the Crow had heard his singing, and it nearly took his breath away. That feeling in his stomach faded as Rook’s voice carried on.

“As you once were blind, in the light now you can sing? In our strength we can rely, and history will not repeat…” As the mage finished the verse, the magic around them fizzled into dazzling sparkles. The ritual was complete.

“Remarkable…” Emmrich breathed out, as much in awe as the others were. Even Manfred seemed enchanted by the spectacle.

Rook opened his eyes and saw that he was the center of attention. Feeling suddenly bashful, he looked away from them as his face turned pink.

“Did… it work?” Lucanis looked at Spite, who was still sated by the song.

The question seemed to snap it from its daze, and it grinned. It removed its hand from Lucanis’ shoulder and moved to the other side of Rook, where he had turned his head. It leaned in close to the mage’s ear. “Rook…”

Rook gasped and turned towards the voice, eyes wide and embarrassment forgotten. “Spite?!”

The demon’s grin widened. Though the mage didn’t know it, their faces were very close. One small movement and their lips would brush together. “My Rook…” it growled in a low, husky voice.

“Our Rook.” Lucanis corrected quickly, though he felt his face flush as soon as the words left his mouth.

Rook glanced back at Lucanis, hiding how fast his heart was beating behind an excited smile. “It worked! I can hear Spite!”

“Wonderful!” Emmrich held his hands together in delight. “I daresay, Rook’s unique magic is quite a marvelous experience to behold.”

That got Rook blushing again and he rubbed the back of his head nervously. “Thanks, professor…”

Spite moved closer to Rook again, cupping its hand over his ear and whispering. Whatever it said made Rook’s face turn from pink to bright red. That got a chuckle from the demon.

“Spite…” Lucanis shot the demon a look, but his thoughts were interrupted by that odd feeling in his gut again. He placed his hand over his abdomen at the same time as Rook did, and his eyes widened. “I… felt that!”

Rook looked panicked. “What?”

“Not nearly as intensely,” Lucanis added quickly so as not to worry his mage. “More like… I sensed that you felt something rather than truly feeling it myself.”

“Fascinating.” Emmrich put a finger to his chin in thought. “It seems like the spell worked both ways. Connecting Rook to Spite, and also Lucanis to Voracity. And I assume by proxy… Spite to Voracity.”

Notes:

I HAD to get that almost kiss scene in here somehow. It's definitely NOT my favorite scene that I have recorded to play over and over again. Nope. 👀 Also, Rook, say goodbye to all ability to focus on anything else while around Spite. Now he's NEVER going to shut up~

Song: Enchanters (Inquisition)

Chapter 12: Smells Like... Blood and Bergamot

Summary:

Spite makes a deal with Voracity; Lucanis and Spite argue again; Spite makes good on his promise

Notes:

This one gets just a wee bit steamy. I almost thought I wouldn't have a chapter for today, but after a slow start I found my inspiration!

Rook was eager to get back out there. After all, the gods weren’t going to just sit around and wait for him to adjust to life as an Abomination. Emmrich helped remove his stitches, and it seemed he had a new scar on his chest. It looked pretty good, if Rook said so himself. Still, he carefully donned his armor in case there was any residual pain, all while humming a soft tune. He thought maybe if he kept it up longer while he prepared, he wouldn’t have to worry while out on their mission. After all, once they stepped out of the Crossroads he would be out of range of Solas’ protection. Thankfully, Spite had begrudgingly agreed to try not to fluster Rook while outside of the Lighthouse.

Now Rook, Lucanis, and Emmrich–and Manfred–stood in front of the Eluvian that would take them to the closest point they had to Blackthorne Manor where Hezenkoss’ little soirée was just begging to be ruined.

“Are you sure you’re ready, cariño?” Lucanis asked, his eyes scanning the mage for any sign he was straining himself.

“I can’t stay cooped up in the Lighthouse forever.” Rook answered, still turned to the giant mirror in front of them. “That… doesn’t mean I’m not nervous.”

“We’re here for you, Rook.” Emmrich assured him, resting a hand on the young mage’s shoulder. Manfred hissed in agreement.

Rook smiled and took a deep breath. “Alright… let’s crash a party.” He said and stepped through the Eluvian. The difference was immediate. As soon as he fully passed through the mirror he felt a deep, gut wrenching ache shoot through him like a bolt of lightning. He squeezed his eyes shut from the pain and felt his knees give out under him as he desperately clutched his stomach.

“Rook!” Lucanis was quick and managed to catch him before he hit the ground. Emmrich wasn’t far behind. The two men helped Rook back to his feet.

“I’m… I’m fine…” Rook drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly, forcing the pain down. It seemed like Solas’ magic was doing more than he thought it was. You are not going to control me, he aimed his thoughts at the demon with clenched teeth.

The mage felt a third pair of arms wrap around him from behind. Spite. They whispered in Rook’s ear so Lucanis and Emmrich didn’t hear. “Voracity… release Rook. And I promise to fulfill every. Single. Desire. You crave. Tonight.” Their voice was low and tinted with lust. To emphasize their point, they let their hands dip down to caress Rook’s thighs.

A shiver of anticipation ran through the mage and his ears burned, but… it seemed to be working. The urges faded to a dull ache that could easily be ignored.

“Spite!” Lucanis shot a hard glare at the demon. “You agreed-”

“No, it’s fine.” Rook said as he straightened up and stepped out of everyone's arms. “It… worked.”

Lucanis and Emmrich both looked stunned. It was the Necromancer who spoke first, “Remarkable! What did he say?”

Rook turned around to face the path in front of them to hide his growing blush. “Doesn’t matter. We’ve got a lanturn to destroy, don’t we? Let’s go.” Without waiting for replies he started to walk forward, forcing the others to follow along.

Lucanis was trying to ignore Spite’s smug face and focus on the mission. He’d have a talk with the demon after they got back.

---

It had been a long, emotional mission. Rook and Emmrich had immediately gone to the Grand Necropolis after defeating Hezenkoss’ monstrosity with what remained of Manfred. Unfortunately, Lucanis wasn’t allowed inside the deeper chambers where the two Necromancers needed to go since he wasn’t a Watcher. So, he waited by the Eluvian. He could have waited in the main chamber with the other Watchers and their undead servants, but admittedly it all made the Crow uncomfortable. He just had to fall for a Mortalitasi, hadn’t he?

Spite was still looking smug, watching Lucanis as if excitedly waiting for their inevitable argument. The Crow decided not to give it that satisfaction, but that didn’t mean the demon was going to give up. “You want to know. What I said to our Rook.” Its voice was playful, phrasing it as a statement over a question. “What I whispered in his ear.”

Lucanis frowned as he leaned against the wall near the mirror. He was fidgeting with his wyvern tooth dagger to keep his hands occupied. Spite was baiting him, but he wasn’t going to fall for it so easily.

It seemed being ignored was working to annoy the demon, as it always did. It moved to stand in front of the assassin. “I helped Rook! You did nothing.”

That got the Crow to acknowledge it with a warning glare. “You tread on thin ice, Spite. You’re lucky Rook likes you, or I would never allow you to touch him like that.”

Spite growled. “Our. Rook. Wants to be touched, but you hold back!”

“And this is why.” Lucanis pointed his dagger at the demon. “Rook deserves better than some deranged demon lusting after him every time he enters a room.”

“We. Care. For. Rook.” Spite said slowly, leering at the assassin with burning eyes.

“Do you?” Lucanis challenged.

“We. Love. Rook.” Through the rage, Lucanis could see… sincerity, determination, a desperate desire for him to believe the spirit’s words.

The assassin faltered, his anger slowly slipping from his features and replaced by bewilderment. “You… truly believe that, don’t you?”

“Yes!” Spite threw its hands up as if exasperated at how long it took Lucanis to understand. Then, as its own anger began to dissipate, it reached out as if to touch the assassin’s face. “Also… Lucanis.”

Lucanis remembered the last time he dropped his guard around Spite. He let himself be vulnerable and give in to pleasure. He was tempted to do it again. Was he wrong about Spite? Maybe it just… didn’t know how to express anything other than spite. This was it trying to connect. “Spite…” he reached up as if to take the demon’s hand, but both of them were distracted by the sound of approaching footsteps.

Rook and Emmrich strode down the hall, looking a mix of relief and exhaustion. Though… Manfred wasn’t with them.

“Where’s Curiosity?” Spite demanded as the pair reached them.

“He will be fine, Spite.” Emmrich said gently. “We just need some time to prepare to welcome him back home.”

---

Once back at the Lighthouse, Rook had decided to retire early. He was drained physically, emotionally, and magically. At some point, though he wasn’t sure when, the Lighthouse had conjured a sort of bathhouse for the group. Separate from the washrooms they already had. The water was always clean and just hot enough to be relaxing without being overwhelming. There were plenty of private rooms with large, wide tubs and a good selection of soaps and soaks. Rook was glad it hadn’t designed itself after the Antivan bathhouses. He never wanted to set foot in one again.

The mage shed his armor and slowly stepped into the bath. He sighed in relief as the warmth of the water soothed his scrapes and bruises from the day’s battles. The scent of his chosen soaks filled the air, lilacs and bergamot. He rested his head back against the cool stone of the tub and closed his eyes. This was definitely needed. Absently he began to hum to himself as he enjoyed the water.

He wasn’t sure how long he’d been in there, but at some point his bliss was interrupted by a knock on the door. His eyes snapped open and he stared at the door in confusion. “Ah… yes?” He called out.

“Rook…” Spite’s voice came from the other side. “Let me in?” From how the door handle turned already, it was clear Spite was impatient. However they still waited for an answer. “Lucanis said… ask first.”

“Uh…” The mage would have been blushing furiously had he not been so confused. He crossed his legs and tucked them under himself as he sat up. Spite sounded… softer, like they were trying to hold back their usual enthusiasm around Rook. “I… guess?”

The door was pushed open and Lucanis stood in the threshold. He was wearing his usual Lighthouse attire, but it was… dressed down. Instead of his usual vest and accessories, he was just in the simple blue shirt usually underneath it all. Violet eyes took in the sight of Rook in the bath with a grin, and the mage realized it wasn’t Lucanis standing there in front of him. “Our Rook.” They practically growled.

“Spite?” Rook was prepared to reprimand the demon for taking over Lucanis again, but they raised a hand to stop him.

“Lucanis gave permission.” Spite said and then stepped into the room proper so they could close the door behind them. “With conditions.” They added with amusement.

“What…?” That didn’t sound like Lucanis. Not the man who had stopped their first kiss because it wasn’t the right time, they weren’t in the right headspace.

“Made a promise. A deal.” Spite said, clearly wanting to step closer, but something was holding them back. “With Voracity.”

Rook’s eyes widened as he remembered what Spite had whispered in his ear back outside by the Eluvian. “Ah… right, that…” As if on cue, he felt that familiar ache in his gut. “Um… what conditions?”

Spite held up a finger. “One. Wait for Rook to give permission. For anything.” He held up another. “Two. No kissing Rook’s lips, and no touches in… intimate places” His smirk suggested he was envisioning exactly what he was told not to do.

“I-I see…” That made more sense why Lucanis would ever agree to this. “And… why couldn’t this wait until after my bath?” Almost as soon as the words left his mouth, he felt a cramp that made him wince. Some of the water sloshed over the sides of the tub from the sudden movement.

“That’s why.” Spite said with a slight chuckle. He started to take a step forward, but then stopped himself. “May… I approach Rook?”

Rook forced his body to relax, though he kept his legs crossed. It was almost… sweet how Spite was determined to hold themselves back for his sake. “Y…yeah.”

Spite took slow, deliberate steps towards Rook, their eyes staying locked onto the mage’s own. They moved to kneel behind the tub and leaned in close to Rook’s neck. “Smells like… Rook.”

Rook closed his eyes as a jolt of excitement ran through him. That yearning deep in his core stirred from the closeness, but more than that he could feel his own arousal growing. “What–” he cleared his throat, “What are you going to do?”

Spite’s lips moved dangerously close to Rook’s ear, but still never touched him. “Whatever. Rook. Wants.” He answered slowly.

Sweet Andraste. Rook swallowed and shifted in the water, his legs switching positions as he pressed them together. “But… you’ll stop if I tell you to?”

“If that’s what Rook wants.” The demon confirmed and leaned over so they could tilt their head to meet the mage’s eyes. “Tell me… what Rook wants.”

“I…” They wanted Rook to say it out loud? “I want you to… touch me.”

Spite growled in victory and leaned back in to whisper in Rook’s ear. “Where?”

This was torture, but it only stirred more desire in the mage. “E-everywhere.” He breathed out and leaned his head back against the solid body behind him. “Please.”

The noise the demon made sounded almost like a purr. Fingers threaded through Rook’s hair, gently scratching and massaging his scalp. The mage’s eyes fluttered shut as he let out a contented sigh. Occasionally Spite hit a spot on his head that sent a jolt through Rook and caused his back to arch involuntarily. He braced himself against the tub, his hands squeezing the sides to prevent him from any more movements.

“Like a cat.” Spite teased with a chuckle, repeating what Lucanis had said on their first date. “I can touch. With more than fingers… if Rook asks.”

“Please…” the mage said instantly.

“Please what?”

“Use… your lips. Your mouth. Please…” Rook had never felt so safe and so vulnerable at the same time. And he wanted more.

The demon was more than happy to oblige. First they pressed light kisses to Rook’s head, then moved teasingly down to his ear, then finally they pressed their eager lips to his neck. This earned a moan from the mage that caused Spite’s wings to flutter to life behind them. “Sing for me, Rook…” they murmured into his skin.

Rook bit his lip through another moan as he felt the demon’s fingers slide down to his shoulders. They were being gentle because of their promise, but the impatient twitching of their wings betrayed just how much they wanted Rook. At the same time, they seemed to revel in how the mage squirmed and eagerly pressed back into them for more.

Spite let their tongue glide across Rook’s neck, earning another moan and shiver from him. They grinned against his now wet skin before biting down, hard. A glimpse of what the demon was holding back.

Rook’s body tensed, causing more water to spill out of the sides, but the pain was followed by a wave of pleasure he’d never expected could come from it. “Ah… Spite!” He cried out through heavy breaths.

Spite released the skin between their teeth and licked the spot once. “Want me to stop?” They teased and shifted like they were going to pull away.

“No!” Rook said too quickly, causing his ears to burn.

Spite grinned, their eyes sparkling in amusement and satisfaction. “Good.” He said while he let his fingers draw circles over Rook’s shoulders. He returned to planting kisses against his skin as one hand moved down to trace the lines of the mage’s tattooed arm. It was the symbol of the Mourn Watch surrounded by various flowers that grew in the Necropolis Gardens, swirls of what looked like sparkling magic were woven throughout it. On the other arm, nestled inside more flowers, was a skull with wisps scattered around it playfully. Not many people got to see the tattoos under all his armor.

The touches helped Rook relax again, closing his eyes and leaning his head back again on Spite’s chest, tilted enough to leave his neck exposed to more kisses. He was content, but the swirling in his gut wanted something different. Something more. He could hear Lucanis’ heart beating rapidly behind him, and he involuntarily licked his lips.

Spite hummed against the mage’s neck and pulled back. They shifted so the two could look into each other’s eyes once more. They tilted Rook’s chin up, letting their thumb brush over his lips. “I did say… any desire.”

Rook wasn’t following at first, but then Spite held the back of Lucanis’ wrist to his mouth. On instinct he kissed it, reaching up to hold it gently in place while he did. Something stirred in him, clouding his mind and guiding his movements. He felt his body shifting, forcing his mouth open as his canines elongated into fangs–like a wolf. Still in the middle of the fog, he bit down on the hand in front of him. He thought he heard a hiss of pain, but he was already lost in the sensation of the warm, metallic tasting liquid that pooled in his mouth. He drank hungrily, deeply, his eyes lidded and glowing yellow. Lucanis tasted so much better than what he had been fed before. The urge inside him purred.

“Rook…” The mage thought he heard a voice through the fog, but ignored it. “Rook!” It was louder now, but he still didn’t want to stop. “That’s enough, cariño.”

Rook’s eyes cleared and he released Lucanis’ hand with a gasp. He turned to the other man in horror, seeing that it wasn’t Spite there with him any longer. “Lucanis, I-I… I didn’t…”

The Crow reached forward with his other hand and gently stroked Rook’s hair reassuringly. “It’s okay, I thought this might happen.” He was holding his injured wrist to his chest to suppress the bleeding. A blush creeped across his cheeks as he averted his eyes. “I, ah… didn’t expect to be here, however.”

Right. The bath. And Rook was naked and flushed with a fresh love bite on his collarbone. He turned away from the assassin bashfully. “...Spite was… um, good. I-I mean he obeyed all the rules–good. Not that it wasn’t good. I… ah…” he rambled, feeling his ears burn even more with every word.

Lucanis sighed in relief. With a smile, he took Rook’s hand and gently kissed his fingers. “And Voracity?”

Rook paused to focus on the swirling in his stomach. “Not gone, but… manageable, I think…” he risked glancing back at the Crow. “I don’t think it’ll ever be truly gone. That’s just not how Voracity works.”

“We can work with manageable.” Lucanis said and then let go of the mage so he could stand, wanting to give Rook some privacy now. He looked down at himself with a frown. “...This might be hard to explain.”

Rook looked up at him and had to bite his lip to keep from reacting. Lucanis was soaked from the bath water that had spilled over, but even more distracting than that was how clearly aroused he was. He didn’t know if he should laugh or blush, but he quickly looked away before the Crow caught him staring. He could hear Spite chuckling.

"Excuse me." With a blush of his own, the assassin moved quickly to leave the bath and let Rook have his privacy.

Notes:

poor Lucanis, but now he trusts Spite just a little bit more.

I think I have enough ideas for at least 5+ more chapters (I say, not knowing I'll be writing 19 more chapters and a sequel). Hope you enjoy them!

Chapter 13: Smells Like... Rot and Fur

Summary:

Lucanis, Rook, and Emmrich get information about Illario; Rook tries to reason with his inner demon

Notes:

Sooo... shhh we're not gonna talk about how I put some quests out of order for the sake of flow.

Rook could still feel Spite’s kisses against his skin, even days after it happened. Maker help him, he dreamed of it almost every night since. However, the day after when he saw Lucanis’ wrist wrapped tight in a fresh bandage, all he felt was shame. Sure, the Crow assured him it was fine, but was it really? For once, Rook was thankful for the distraction of their missions away from his thoughts of Lucanis and Spite. Fighting two blighted dragons was a hell of an excuse not to fantasize about kisses and caresses.

The young Watcher lay sprawled across his bed, watching the fish swim idly around their tank. They weren’t real fish, he had decided. Just a soothing replica conjured by the Fade to help with meditation. That didn’t stop Assan from pecking at the glass when he wandered into Rook’s room, of course.

A wisp flew into his line of sight, distracting him from his thoughts. “Oh, hello there.” He greeted the spirit with a smile as he pushed himself up. “What’s going on, little guy?” The wisp circled the mage twice and then slowly moved towards the door of his room. “You want me to follow you?” He guessed and stood to do just that.

The spirit guided Rook out of his room and towards Emmrich’s study. The door was open slightly, and the mage heard Lucanis’ voice through the crack. Curiously, he pushed it open as the Wisp flickered and vanished. What hit him immediately was the sight of a familiar preserved corpse on the stone table by the entrance.

The two other men in the room turned to him as he entered. “Ah, Rook.” Emmrich greeted with his usual kind smile. “Excellent timing.”

“Is that… Zara Renata?” He asked, his eyes fixed on the dried blood that encased most of the body. Before his discomfort became too obvious he placed a hand on his hip and looked between Lucanis and Emmrich. “This place isn’t big enough to keep every corpse you guys find, you know.”

“Zara spoke to Illario before she died.” Lucanis clarified softly, reaching for the mage’s hand and pulling him in gently. “Emmrich can talk to the dead… I have to know.”

“I understand.” Rook offered a smile and squeezed the assassin’s hand in return, though there was still worry in his eyes. “When did you guys even bring her here in the first place?”

“We got her body from the Crows last night.” Lucanis answered as the only explanation. Rook decided that was all he wanted to know.

“I wouldn’t have offered my skills if I thought it was unsafe.” Emmrich assured his fellow Necromancer. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes as he began to channel his magic. There was always something so poetic about the way he cast spells, the way he spoke his incantations. It was one of the things Rook admired about the older man. “Let flame rekindle your sight. Let breath and light rise again.”

The corpse breathed in a ragged gasp. Normally Rook wasn’t at all bothered by Necromancy, it was one of his passions after all, but this… this made him nervous. He wasn’t sure he wanted to hear her voice ever again. He felt fingers in his hair, but Lucanis hadn’t moved. Spite must have been trying to give him some comfort as well.

“Tell us about Illario Dellamorte.” Emmrich commanded as he gazed down at the blood mage’s corpse.

“Amatus…” the corpse whispered. Rook knew that word, it was a common Tevinter phrase to mean “beloved”. He felt sick to his stomach at that revelation. “He fooled us both.”

“Elaborate.” Lucanis demanded.

Zara’s head turned now towards Lucanis, though there was still no life in her eyes. “You took what he wanted most in this world, my dear Lucanis…” she said, “more than coin… pleasure… family…”

Lucanis turned away, and Rook could see a deep seeded sadness in his eyes. “The title of First Talon.”

Anger flared through the younger mage, causing his body to tremble as he tried to hold it back. “That’s what this is about?! Illario had you imprisoned and tortured for a promotion?!” Lucanis had told him about how the Crows often fought amongst themselves for power, but this? Knowing the man he loved endured such horrors all because of some greedy, sleezy, power hungry son of a-

“Well…” Zara interrupted his outburst. “That job was to kill you… but this one doesn’t waste those with potential…”

Those words sent a cold chill down Rook’s spine. She’d said something similar to him while he was being held captive by her. “Yeah, that’s not any better.” He replied bitterly.

“And Caterina…” Lucanis prompted, moving them away from this topic. “Did Illario hire you to kill her?”

“No.” Was the only response they got.

Now it was Rook’s turn to ask questions. Spite’s lingering, ghostly touches helped to ground him. “Illario used blood magic to control Spite. How? He’s not a mage.”

“Our risen god gives many gifts.”

That prompted the three men in the room to glance at each other with varying degrees of worry. “Elgar’nan?” Rook exclaimed. “Illario’s working with Elgar’nan? ” It always came down to those damned elven gods.

Emmrich frowned, his eyes shut tight in concentration as sweat began to bead on his brow. “Her spirit’s strong. Haste… would be appreciated.”

“One more question.” Lucanis stared down at the corpse with an unreadable expression. “Rook’s blood, I know you took some when you captured him. Where is it?”

For some reason, Rook hadn’t even considered they’d still have his blood. But… it made sense. That was how they controlled Lucanis, that would be how they would try to control Rook.

“Illario…” Zara whispered, and then let out a coarse laughter that reverberated off the walls. Emmrich broke the connection, halting the laughter. An unsettling smile remained on her lips as her body went limp.

The three were silent for several long moments. The professor looked between the two with empathetic eyes. “Lucanis… I’m sorry.”

“So am I.” Lucanis answered, his tone laced with a quiet rage.

“What do we do now?” Rook asked, his hold on Lucanis’ hand tightening for comfort.

The assassin’s gaze turned to Rook, and there was a violet flash in his eyes. “Take away everything from him.”

---

Lucanis had excused himself so he could send word to Teia and Viago about what they knew. Rook stayed behind with Emmrich, deciding to sit on the stairs to think about everything they had learned. Thankfully, the professor had draped a cloth over Zara’s body so they didn’t have to look at it anymore. For all Rook cared, they could toss it off the side of the Lighthouse and into the Fade.

“For Rook!” Manfred’s voice interrupted the mage’s thoughts. He held a tray with a cup of hot tea for him to take.

He looked up at the skeleton, unable to stop a smile spreading across his face. “Thanks, Manfred.” He said as he took his cup. The Spirit of Curiosity that was Manfred now donned Rook’s own old Mourn Watcher coat from when he was a student. They could have gotten a new one made, but the young mage insisted on it being his. Manfred was an incredible feat of Necromancy, one that the young Watcher was excited to watch first hand. “Looking good, by the way,” he added.

“Thank you!” Manfred replied, his bones rattling in excitement. Emmrich watched his new protégé with the eyes of a proud, doting father.

Rook had already teased him about that before, so he let it slide without comment. Instead, he had a different observation. “I think… Manfred is the perfect proof of what we talked about before. Spirits being able to grow and learn… feel different emotions.”

“I agree completely.” Emmrich had his own cup and moved to stand beside Rook, leaning partially against the railing of the stairs. Manfred moved to start organizing a stack of books back onto the shelves. “And I also believe it isn’t just because he’s Curiosity. After all, he’s not the only spirit in the Lighthouse we’ve seen grow.”

“Spite…” Rook smiled just saying his name. “He’s definitely a lot, but… he does care. Not just about me, I think, but also Lucanis.”

“And you love him in return.” Emmrich teased.

Rook blushed and sipped his tea. “...Yeah, I do. I love them both. But…” he briefly brushed his hand over his stomach.

“You’re worried about Voracity.”

“I just… how do I begin to bridge a gap when I can’t communicate with it like I can with Spite?” Rook sighed and swirled the tea in his cup, a habit he picked up from his Crow. “At least Lucanis can see him. They can talk and argue and make up like anyone else can.”

“Perhaps…” Emmrich started in a thoughtful tone, “We’re approaching this from the wrong angle.”

Rook looked up at the professor. “How do you mean?”

“Just because you can’t see or hear the spirit doesn’t mean it can’t still understand you.” The older mage shifted so he and Rook could better look at each other. “After all, Spite was able to quell it with words, yes?”

Rook tried to hide his blush from that memory behind his cup. “Y-yeah… he did.”

“Then I believe the solution is the same as the one for Lucanis. You and Voracity must come to an understanding.”

“You make it sound so easy…”

“I know it won’t be, my dear.” Emmrich leaned down to place his hand on Rook’s shoulder, “but you will always have my support.”

He smiled up at the older man. “Thanks, Professor.”

---

Rook was back in his room, sitting on his chaise lounge with his arms resting against his knees in thought. How do you talk to a void? By shouting into it? He had lit some candles and incense from the Necropolis to help him relax and concentrate. He didn’t want to reach Solas’ Fade prison this time, he wanted to reach inside his own mind.

He closed his eyes and took slow, deliberate breaths. He focused on the swirling pit deep in his gut that always seemed to tug at the back of his mind. “I know you’re scared…” the mage risked saying aloud, “I am, too.”

The void said nothing.

“I don’t want to hurt you… I want to help you, I promise. Help us.” He squeezed his hands together nervously. “If we’re going to be stuck together, we should learn to work together.”

He heard a shuffling in front of him and opened his eyes. It looked like he was still in his room, but everything felt a little… off. The window full of fish was too tall, the fish too big. The table of candles in front of him was gone, and the furniture around the walls seemed to be shifting every time he glanced away from them. But more importantly, sitting in the ethereal green glow beneath the glass, was a wolf.

It was the same white wolf he had seen before. Its legs were thin as bones, but its fur appeared soft and almost seemed to shimmer with each movement. He hadn’t noticed before, but it had two tails resting around it, covering its paws. Four glowing yellow eyes stared at him, unblinking.

Rook didn’t dare move. He was… afraid. He knew the type of pain this spirit could cause him, the urges it could make him suffer. “...Voracity?”

It blinked in response.

“Um…” the mage cleared his throat. “Right, well… I’m Rook. I’m a Necromancer of the Mourn Watch in Nevarra. Now leader of the Veilguard. I know we didn’t meet in… ideal circumstances, but it’s… nice to meet you?”

The wolf didn’t move.

“Right…” Rook sighed. He wasn’t sure where to go from here. “Look, if we’re going to survive we need to work together. Okay? Set some boundaries, know our limits… that sort of thing.”

Nothing again. This was getting frustrating.

The mage decided to try a different approach. “You… liked what Spite did for us, yeah?”

The tails twitched briefly.

“Well… if we work together we can get more of that. More touches, more kisses…” he hesitated before adding, “...more blood.”

The wolf didn’t move, but Rook felt like he had gotten its attention now.

“I want that, too. I just need you to… hold back a little when we’re out of the Lighthouse.” The mage continued, “Meet me halfway, so to speak. I’ll… even sing for you if you like.”

The wolf tilted its head.

“How about this?” Rook asked as he stood up. “I’ll go to Lucanis and Spite with whatever cravings you have, but you have to let me focus on my missions. No cramps, no distractions, and when we’re back home we can… have fun. Deal?”

The air around them seemed to shift, almost like it was being charged with magical energy. What felt like a jolt of lightning ran through Rook’s nervous system, and he had to close his eyes against the pain. After it faded, however, he opened his eyes again to find that he was back in reality. The wolf was gone… and so was the hunger. For now.

---

“No, I can’t turn into a bat now. I told you I’m not a vampire.” Rook sighed as he sat in one of the chairs in the corner of the dining hall, his feet resting comfortably on the table in front of him. He was holding a cup of coffee he’d made for himself and took a grateful drink from it.

“But you essentially are now, aren’t you?” Bellara insisted. “What with the blood and the sunlight thing–”

“Feeling lethargic in sunlight doesn’t make me a vampire.” He couldn’t help but laugh at that one.

“No, but it would make sense, right? And who knows what other powers you could have now! Lucanis can do all kinds of things because of Spite!” The excitable elf pointed out. By this point she had agreed to accept what Rook said about it not being her fault. Now she’d moved on to being morbidly curious about the whole affair. 

“I’m a mage, Bellara, I already have powers.” He had to admit that seeing her so excited, even about something like Rook being an Abomination, was adorable. Seeing her so passionate about an idea was one of the things he liked about her.

“What about your teeth?” Bellara pointed to his mouth as he took a sip. “Do you have fangs now? Would that get in the way of eating? Or kissing?”

Rook nearly choked on his coffee. He coughed and wiped his mouth on the back of his sleeve. “I don’t have fangs… all the time. They kinda just... appear when I need them.”

Thankfully their discussion was interrupted by the door to the dining hall being pushed open. Lucanis stepped inside, holding what looked to be a letter. His expression was serious, even as he turned to look at his mage. “Rook, you’re here. Good.”

The joy at seeing the assassin quickly faded to worry. “Is something wrong?” He asked as he stood up.

Lucanis held up the letter in his hand. “Viago and Teia sent word. They have information… about Illario.”

Notes:

A bit of a lull in action this time around. Gotta set up for the REAL juicy bits coming up, after all~

Chapter 14: Smells Like... Memories and Chains

Summary:

Rook saves Lucanis from his own mind.

Notes:

Guess who got her hands on a copy of Tevinter Nights, finally! Instantly jumped to Lucanis' chapter to fill in some blanks.

This is a long one, but so so worth it! It didn't feel right to split it up.

Teia and Viago wanted to meet them in Minrathous, at the Cobbled Swan. If they wanted to meet this far away from Treviso, that meant what they had was too serious to risk being overheard. 

Rook and Lucanis stepped into the warm lighting of the tavern. Normally Rook would have some witty comment or bad joke to say about being soaked by the near constant rain in Dock Town, but his Crow companion didn’t look like he was in the mood. Even Spite seemed to be focused on the task at hand.

Lucanis scanned the room until he spotted their targets in a far corner, out of earshot of any overly curious patrons. Without a word he made his way over to them with Rook quickly stepping into pace behind him.

They had news, but it wasn’t what either of them expected. Caterina, First Talon of the Crows and Lucanis’ grandmother… was alive. Well, at least they could cross “grand-matricide” off the list of Illario’s crimes, Rook thought. Again he felt it was better not to share his thoughts just then.

“How could she be alive? What is he thinking? How am I supposed to deal with this?” Lucanis was a mess. He looked down at his trembling hands with a pained expression. Rook had never seen him quite like this. He’d seen him angry, he’d seen him flustered, but this… it’s like every wall he built had begun to crack around him. He wanted to take his hand, give him a comforting touch, but he was afraid he might crumble.

“We need to plan a rescue!” Teia insisted. She was the most optimistic one at the table. “The sooner we get Caterina out of there, the better.”

“It could be a trap,” Viago, ever the pragmatist, pointed out. “We need to deal with Illario first.”

“He could still kill her if we move against him. Maker knows what’s in his head.” Lucanis shook his head, his fists clenched on the table as he let out a frustrated grunt. “I thought I had a clear target! What if I go after him and get Caterina killed!”

Rook reached out to gently rest his hand on Lucanis’ arm, and as he did so he felt a surge of magic rush around them. Spite’s eyes turned to look at the mage. “Help us.”

“What can I do?” Rook asked immediately, shifting closer to his Crow.

“He’ll listen! He always listens to you!” Spite reached out and cupped Rook’s face in their hand. “Come!”

The mage felt reality shift around him and his vision went white. He had no idea what Spite had done, but it felt like he was floating for a moment. Like he was being pulled away from his body. When his senses finally caught up with him he was staring not at Lucanis, but… well, it looked like Lucanis, except… purple, and with brilliant glowing wings at rest behind it. “Spite?” Rook grabbed the demon’s outstretched arm to steady himself. The world around them was a familiar washed out grey. “What just happened? Is this… the Fade? No…” that didn’t feel quite right. It didn’t feel like Solas’ memories in the Crossroads, either.

“Lucanis is here.” Spite said, watching the mage with intense eyes. “Always. Behind locked doors. I can’t break through.”

“We’re in… Lucanis’ head?” Rook’s eyes widened. He had so many questions. How had Spite drawn him into Lucanis’ mind? They weren’t even in the Fade where Spite was more powerful. More importantly… how broken was Lucanis for Spite to reach out like this so suddenly? “Show me,” was all he ended up saying. Questions could wait, his Crow needed him.

Spite nodded, taking Rook’s hand and leading him forward. The crumbling stone path and jagged walls looked familiar, but it wasn’t until he looked up and saw a massive whale floating high above their heads that he realized what this place represented. “We’re back in the Ossuary?”

“Never left.” Spite glanced back at their mage. “Always here. I can’t reach him, but Rook… Rook opens doors.”

“I’ll get him out of this, I promise.” Rook stated confidently, then glanced around them again. “Lucanis is good at hiding his pain… too good.” The pressure in the air felt like they were truly underwater, the gravity of it making it hard to keep stepping forward. Their footsteps echoed like ripples in a pond, and whispers bounced back. Rook could only make out a few words, but he recognized the voices.

“Useless…” Calivan’s voice cut through the noise.

“My dear Crow…” Zara’s voice sent chills through the mage.

The landscape began to shift as they walked. It still looked like the Ossuary, but now there were pieces of the Lighthouse scattered throughout. They came up to the round meeting table, and Rook let his fingers slide over the dusty surface. Just ahead of them was a door, chained in the only color in the entire room. Red.

Spite released Rook’s hand and carefully stepped towards the door. It reached out towards it, but a spark of red magic arced from the chains to his fingers causing the demon to hiss in pain. He growled. “Let me in!”

“Spite, calm down.” Rook stepped around the table to stand beside the demon. “Yelling isn’t going to help Lucanis.”

Spite grumbled, but stepped back away from the door to give Rook some space. The mage wasn’t entirely sure what to do, but he felt something stirring inside of him. A strong desire, a yearning… for Lucanis. Pain shot through his arm to his fingertips. A swirl of yellow magic snaked across his skin towards his nails. They elongated into glowing claws. Was Voracity… trying to help? The mage looked at the chains, and after a moment he slashed at them with his new talons. It was a clean slice all the way through, and the chains clattered to the ground and fizzled out.

“Yes! My Rook.” Spite grinned at him, its eyes glinting with desire.

Under normal circumstances, that would have made Rook blush. “Is that it? Lucanis is behind here?”

“No.” Spite’s grin faded as he focused back on their quest. “More doors. More chains. More guilt.”

“Of course, why would it be that easy?” Rook sighed and pushed open the doors and stepped into the rolling, grey fog with Spite a few steps behind him.

As the fog cleared, the mage noted more changes in scenery. They now seemed to be in a decayed version of a grand and glimmering hallway. Antivan, judging from the decor. Through the windows to his left he could see the chilled waters of the Ossuary.

“How long are you going to keep doing this?” Illario’s voice bounced off the walls around him, making him stop in his tracks.

“Doing what?” Lucanis’ voice asked in return.

“Caterina’s bidding.”

It was an echo of a past conversation between the two Crows. Lucanis’ tone shifted, and Rook could picture the frown that came with it. “Illario. Stop.”

“If I was in charge, you wouldn’t have to do this anymore.” Illario’s echo insisted. “You could quit.”

“I don’t want to quit.”

“Even if it kills you…” Illario’s voice was a whisper now, and Rook couldn’t decipher his tone. Regretful? Disappointed? Bitter?

“Death is my calling.” Lucanis answered. “Just as yours is to become First Talon.”

“And if Caterina disagrees? If she thinks you’re the better man for the job-”

“I don’t want it, Illario.”

“But you wouldn’t refuse.”

“It’s impossible to refuse Caterina.”

The whispers faded, leaving only Spite and Rook left in the silent hallway. The Watcher turned to face his companion, feeling a burning rage creeping up inside him again. “Lucanis didn’t even want the title, and still Illario sent him to his death.”

Spite inhaled deeply. “Regret. Despair. Lucanis ignored the signs. Believed Illario loved him. Only family left.”

Rook let himself calm down before turning to look back down the hallway. “Let’s keep going.” He said, pressing forward. They came to a large, opulent room with an ornate fireplace in the center. The door opposite them was bound in those same red, menacing chains, but on top of it there was the red shimmer of a barrier in front of it. This one wouldn’t be as easy to break.

Something caught Rook’s eye. There was something floating just in front of the fireplace that almost looked like a golden wisp. “Is that another Spirit?”

“No!” Spite snapped, his feathers bristling. “Lucanis is mine! They wouldn’t dare.”

“A memory fragment, then?” The mage guessed. He carefully approached it and reached out as if to touch it. As soon as his fingers entered its light he was flooded with intense emotion, enough to bring him to his knees. Flashes of memory came with the pain–the agony of going days without food or water, the sting of fresh bruises from his grandmother’s cane as punishment for letting down his guard. She had trained him hard, groomed him into being the best of the best of the Crows and worthy of the title of First Talon. He had hated her for years, but then the agony shifted into acceptance. Caterina had to be harsh with him to prepare him for this life they led. To help him survive. That’s what Lucanis told himself.

When Rook came out of the memories, Spite was kneeling beside him and holding his shoulders. Hot tears had begun to roll down his cheeks at some point. “I… had no idea. He never talked about his childhood much.” Rook said quietly as he stared into the flames in front of him.

Spite inhaled again. “Tenderness and terror. Rage and relief. An old, stale fear of disappointment.”

Rook closed his eyes. “Lucanis… you put your grandmother on a pedestal because she was the only guidance you had left. You’re afraid to disappoint her, to say no and risk losing her support.” Rook paused and clenched his fists. He was angry that his Crow had suffered such abuse as a child, but he knew that rage wasn’t what Lucanis needed to hear. “But you haven’t failed her. Demon or no, you’re still her grandson and nothing will change that. It’s not your fault.”

The atmosphere shifted, and the barrier around the chains vanished. Spite helped Rook to his feet and gently wiped the tears from his eyes. The mage smiled and leaned into its hand for a brief moment before he turned his attention to the door. The claws came easier this time, and he cut the chains down quickly so the two could keep going.

This time the chamber they entered once again resembled the Lighthouse with bits of the Ossuary poking through the cracks. To Rook’s surprise, Davrin and Harding were sitting around the meeting table. Behind them was another locked door. They looked up at the mage as he approached. “What are you guys doing here?” He asked.

“Keeping an eye on the demon.” Davrin replied, his arms crossed over his chest. “He’s not getting out on our watch.”

“Distrust and discomfort.” Spite said from behind Rook, its fingers lightly grasping the mage’s shoulders as he watched the two fragments of Lucanis’ mind in front of them. “Doubt and fear.”

“Lucanis isn’t a demon, and he needs our help. Let me through.” Rook demanded.

Harding spoke up, “Rook, are you sure Spite isn’t tricking you? What if there is no Lucanis–just the demon?”

Spite’s grip on the mage tightened and its wings twitched, but it stayed silent to let Rook handle this.

Like before, Rook decided to speak directly to Lucanis. “I know I haven’t lived with it as long as you have. The pain I endured was only a fraction of what you suffered in the Ossuary… but I’ve feared the same thing. What if I’m not me anymore? What if I’m just being puppeted by some demon who fed on my memories and thinks it's me?” He looked at his hand and summoned those claws again. “But I am still me. Just like you’re still you.”

Davrin scoffed. “Does this look like the mind of a human being to you?”

“I see pain.” Rook countered. “I see doubt, fear, shame, and grief. All of those are very human emotions, but they aren’t what define us. You spent an entire year in the Ossuary! No one, not even the Demon of Vyrantium, could walk away from that without scars. Yet you chose to join me to fight against the gods. That’s who you are, Lucanis.”

“You’re wasting your time, Rook.” Harding said, her expression full of sorrow. “There’s nothing left.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.” Rook held his hands to his hips. “Now let me through.”

The two companions faded into a glittering white light, clearing the way to the door. Rook wasted no time slashing through the chains and pushing the door open to the next chamber. This one resembled the large chamber where they had fought Calivan deep in the Ossuary before it collapsed. A shimmer of light danced in the center, and as the mage approached he was surprised to see an image of Neve had manifested from it.

“Are you sure you should be here, Rook?” She asked with a knowing smirk. “Can’t say it’s the safest place in the world.”

“Hesitation.” Spite said, frowning. “Holding back. No attachment, no pain.”

“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.” Rook replied with a sincere smile.

“Even knowing what it might cost? What it’s already cost you?” The detective raised an eyebrow.

“There’s always a cost, no matter what we choose or where we go. I’d rather be standing by your side against the tide than let myself be swept away without you.”

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

“In that case we might be here a while because I’m not leaving without him.” Rook stubbornly crossed his arms over his chest. “We need you, Lucanis. I need you.”

“You’re such a sap, Rook.” Neve teased. “I think I understand what he sees in you.” With a final nod she faded into the mist around them.

“Almost there!” Spite swept Rook up into its arms and used its wings to boost its jump to the top of the stairs before them.

“Woah, wait–” The mage latched onto the demon tightly during their short flight. “Warn me next time you’re going to do that!”

Spite chuckled as he set Rook down. “Next time.” It seemed to take that as a promise they’d do it again.

Rook groaned and shook his head, but decided to let it go for the moment. They had another door to open.

This time they seemed to be in Treviso. Well, if Treviso was underwater and surrounded on all sides by an endless abyss. Rook recognized the rooftop of the Cantori Diamond, where the Eluvian sat. Quickly he and Spite ducked through the open window into the hideout.

Standing on the catwalk to greet them… was Illario. As his eyes met Rook’s he flashed a charming smile and took several slow steps forward. “Rook!” He greeted warmly, his arms stretched out before him. “You are far too good to be wasting your time in a place like this, little bird.”

Rook glared at the conjured image of the other Crow. He wanted nothing more than to blast this phantom with lightning, leaving nothing but charred flesh and brittle bones… but he held himself back. This is still Lucanis, he reminded himself.

Illario seemed unphased by the white hot stare he was getting from both mage and demon and casually sauntered up to stand before Rook. “Forget about my cousin.” He said in a low voice, a finger trailing gently up Rook’s chest. “You’ve got so much more… important things to worry about, don’t you? Weight of the world on your shoulders? You should be with someone with the strength to help support that weight. Lucanis' mind is too weak, he can't even support himself.”

Spite growled protectively, its wings spreading out wide behind it. “Sharp. Jagged edges. Hurt with every breath. Grief and relief. Hope and anger. Mixed.”

Rook looked unamused. Whatever charm he’d felt from the man before, now it just fell flat. “Illario is a coward. He’s not worth your time or mine.” He said to Lucanis and pushed the Crow’s hand away.

“He. Put. Us. Here. ” Spite held tight onto Rook. “He. Hurt. Rook!”

“Everything that’s happened is his fault, Lucanis. He has no right to speak for you.” The mage added.

“Is it?” Illario asked with a slight tilt of his head. “Are you sure about that? He was the one who left you alone with me, knowing my reputation. I could have done so much worse to you before giving you to Zara.”

This time the snarl came from Rook. Both of his hands grew sharp claws and he slashed at the assassin who had jumped back just in time. “I think it’s time you were evicted from his head, Illario. You don’t deserve to occupy even one second of his thoughts.” Rook’s voice was not entirely his own, there was a gritty undertone that hadn’t been there before. Four yellow eyes burned with rage on his face.

Illario regarded the mage with a cold stare. “You have no idea what the consequences will be.” He said, before fading into a white light and leaving the path ahead clear.

Spite chuckled as Rook calmed himself, the claws fading away and his eyes returning to normal as he relaxed his shoulders. “I’m beginning. To like Voracity.”

There was one more chamber to go.

They were back in the Ossuary, deep in the heart of it where Rook first met Lucanis and Spite. The mage still remembered that day so clearly. The way Lucanis leapt out of the crystal and dispatched the Venatori guards in seconds with such grace and precision that Rook had never seen before. And those wings. Those beautiful shimmering wings that made his heart skip a beat. But now, instead of the confident and graceful assassin he had rescued before, shaking in the middle of the room with his arms wrapped around himself was a vulnerable man. All his walls were down. This was Lucanis.

“Lucanis…” Rook almost whispered his name. Though a wave of relief washed over him, he didn’t want to move too quickly for his Crow’s sake.

Lucanis looked up at Rook in shock, though he stopped shaking. “What… are you doing here, Rook?” He sounded tired. Exhausted from everything that plagued his mind.

“I came to rescue you of course.” The mage took a tentative step forward. “Again.” He added with a smirk.

Lucanis looked like he wanted to reach out, to pull Rook into a hug and never let go, but instead he turned his head away. “You should go. It’s better I stay here than risk losing you.”

“You see?” Spite stepped out from behind Rook. “He doesn’t listen! Traps us here. Breaks our deal. Make him listen!”

“Spite.” Rook warned, causing the demon to sulk, but back down. Then the mage turned his attention back to Lucanis. “Lucanis… I get it. The Ossuary, Zara, Illario… all of those problems can be solved with a blade. With action. But healing…” He took another step forward, carefully reaching out to caress the assassin’s face. “Living as an Abomination? Coming to terms with your own trauma? There’s no simple answer there. And if you fail, you could hurt the ones you love.”

Lucanis melted at Rook’s touch, bringing his own hands up to grasp the one on his face and closing his eyes. “I… I don’t know what to do, Rook. I can’t lose anyone else. I can’t fail again.” Tears welled up in his eyes, but he tried to hold them back.

“You don’t have to do this alone.” Rook reminded him, closing the gap between them and touching their foreheads together. “You have friends. A new family. The Veilguard, Teia and Viago, Spite… and me.”

Lucanis lifted his eyes to stare into Rook’s, “...Spite?”

“I couldn’t have gotten this far without him.” The mage turned and gestured for Spite to come closer.

The demon obeyed and joined their little circle, pressing its own head against both of theirs. “Didn’t like… seeing Lucanis. In pain.”

The three of them stood like that for a long while, letting themselves just enjoy the closeness. It was Lucanis who broke the silence. “It’s just… so much.” He pulled away enough so he could look at both of their faces. His face was streaked with fresh tears. “I cannot see how to even begin.”

“We start small.” Rook said with a smile. “One step at a time. As long as we take that step together.”

Lucanis laughed weakly. He raised a hand and tentatively held Rook’s chin between his thumb and pointer finger. Their eyes met, and the assassin leaned in ever so slightly. “I love you, cariño…”

Rook felt his heart do a flip in his chest, and his smile widened. “I love you, too.” He leaned in as well to meet Lucanis’ lips. The kiss was gentle and unsure, yet electric at the same time. When they parted, the mage noted that the Ossuary had crumbled around them, instead replaced with the Treviso skyline.

“I Love Rook, too!” Spite pouted, clearly feeling left out.

Rook laughed and turned to the demon. “I love you as well, Spite.”

The mage leaned in, and Spite jumped at its chance. Wings fluttering, it placed its hands on either side of the Watcher’s head and drew him into a passionate kiss. It was almost the exact opposite of the one shared between Rook and Lucanis. This one was deep, hungry, and needy. Yet, underneath that there was more than lust. This was a kiss of undying love and devotion.

“Save any of that for me?” Lucanis teased.

Spite released Rook and turned to the Crow with a smirk. “Plenty.”  It chuckled and pulled Lucanis into it by his collar and kissed him just as deeply as it had Rook. After a moment the pair broke and the demon practically purred, “I Love. Lucanis.”

“As I love you, Spite…” the Crow admitted. “Even if you do get on my last nerve. I think… I would feel empty without you here.”

Spite’s wings enveloped the three of them, drawing them all into a much needed embrace.

“Now…” Rook said as they pulled away from each other. “How about we get out of here and teach Illario a lesson, huh? We’ve got a First Talon to save.”

Notes:

Told you it would be worth the wait!

Now that I've been writing this a while I can see where I'd go back and rework some scenes (like adding more Illario drama). Still, I'm proud of what this is for it being essentially a first draft. Maybe at some point after I'm done I'll tweak it a bit, but for now I'm just having fun!

Chapter 15: Smells Like... Honey and Lavender Cream

Summary:

Rook and Lucanis finally get to have some alone time.

Notes:

Wanted to do something lighthearted after the last chapter. Just my silly little guys being in love.

“You seem to have reached an equilibrium with Voracity.” Solas observed, once again standing on the other side of the bottomless pit in the Fade prison. “I must admit, much quicker than I’d anticipated.”

Rook was a little disappointed, if he was being honest with himself. He thought he’d made a connection the last time they spoke and that the Dread Wolf wouldn’t keep him at such a distance, but maybe it was for the best. “Yeah, I think I understand her a bit better now. Never underestimate a Mourn Watcher.”

“Indeed.” Solas watched him with an amused smile. “She is not the only one you’ve come to… ‘understand better,’ it seems.”

It took Rook a second to realize what the elf was talking about, but when he did his face flushed. “Wait, how do you know about that?”

“I’m connected to your mind, remember?” Solas’ eyes gleamed with mischief. “I can see your dreams.”

That just made Rook’s ears burn even more. “O-oh, I see… could have mentioned that before, you know.” He mumbled, unable to keep the elf’s gaze.

“It was irrelevant before.”

“And now teasing me with it makes it relevant?”

“Yes.”

Rook groaned. “You’re the worst, you know that?”

“So I’ve been told.”

“I’m waking up now.” Rook closed his eyes and attempted to will their connection closed. Solas ultimately had control over it, but the elf mercifully let him go. When the mage opened his eyes again, he was back in the Lighthouse. With a groan he pushed himself up from his chaise lounge bed and rubbed his eyes. “Stupid Dread Wolf…” he mumbled.

Rook definitely wasn’t going to get back to sleep after that, so he decided to slip out to the music room. He hadn’t had a chance to do so in a while, and it would feel good to lose himself in the piano keys. Once again he didn’t feel the need to put on a shirt. He had no idea what time it was, but the Lighthouse was still quiet so he figured he’d have some time before the others woke up. Once inside, he sat down on the bench and slid his fingers gently over the keys. He’d miss this piano once their quest was over. Would Solas even mind if he just… took it? It’s not like the Dread Wolf would be coming back anytime soon to play.

Shaking off those thoughts, Rook played a quick chord to warm up. With a smile, he began to play a soft melody, humming along with it as he did. It wasn’t long before the Lighthouse wisps were attracted by the song, circling the piano happily. The mage let himself get lost in the music, closing his eyes and letting instinct take over.

“My little songbird…” Spite’s voice in his ear made him jump, his fingers pressing too hard on the keys. He got a chuckle in response.

“Spite, that wasn’t very nice.” Lucanis reprimanded from the doorway, but his expression said he also found it amusing.

Rook took a steadying breath and turned to face the assassin in the doorway with a pout. “Maybe warn someone next time you’re gonna do that?”

“That would defeat the whole purpose of my job.” Lucanis stated, still smiling. He held two steaming cups of coffee in his hands. He casually walked over to Rook and offered him one of the mugs.

“Thanks.” Rook took it gratefully, enjoying the warmth in his hands. “How’d you know I was here?”

“Heard you.” Spite answered, still sounding like he was right beside Rook. “Felt you. Wanted to hear you sing.”

“And since we were both awake, I figured I’d make us some coffee.” Lucanis added. He casually leaned against the piano, looking down at Rook with loving eyes.

Rook smiled up at his Crow. “True, I might as well have some caffeine. Not like I’m going to be getting back to sleep anytime soon.”

“Bad dreams?”

Rook groaned. “I wish. I just learned that Solas can see into my dreams. And knowing what I’ve been dreaming about lately…” he blushed and looked down at his drink.

“Do tell.” Spite purred into the mage’s ear. “What does our Rook dream of?”

Rook’s blush only deepened, but he risked looking up at Lucanis. “I think you both know…”

“I believe I do.” The Crow lifted his cup as if giving a toast. “Drink. I made this one special for you.” He took a sip of his coffee, but kept his eyes on the mage.

“Oh?” Rook looked back down at his cup. It smelled divine, as usual. He closed his eyes and brought it to his lips. The exquisite bitterness of the roast spread warmth through him, sweetened by something he couldn’t quite place at first. Honey? Honey and… his eyes opened and he looked up at Lucanis again. “...Lavender cream?”

The Crow smirked and leaned in, reaching a hand up to Rook’s face to gently rub his fingers over his lips. “I wanted to give you a reference.”

“Haven’t we already had our first kiss?” The mage asked with a raised eyebrow, unable to stop his smile.

“That was in my mind, it doesn’t count.” The Crow insisted. He tilted Rook’s head up so their lips could meet and perfectly melt together. It was even better than the one before. It was sweet, comforting… and exactly where Rook felt he was supposed to be.

As Lucanis broke the kiss and pulled away, his eyes switched and his grin widened. “My turn.” Spite growled and brought Rook back in for another kiss. There was the cinnamon Rook had predicted. The demon’s kiss was hot and heavy, and elicited a soft moan from the mage.

When they next broke the kiss, Rook saw that Lucanis had regained control. “Well?”

“Well?” The mage repeated dreamily.

The assassin chuckled and straightened up. “How does it compare? Did I get it right?”

Rook’s mind caught up with him and he laughed softly. “I think you nailed it.”

Lucanis pulled up a chair so he could sit close to Rook while they had their coffee. The mage was content in the silence, letting himself lean back into the assassin with a blissful sigh. The Crow’s free hand came up to idly play with Rook’s hair, further adding to his bliss. “I never thought I’d get to have this…” he said quietly, as if to himself.

“Hm?” Rook shifted so he could look at Lucanis while still resting against him. “Have what?”

“This…” Lucanis gently brushed some stray hairs out of Rook’s face. “You… love.”

“You never thought you’d have love?”

“It just always seemed so… secondary.” The Crow shrugged. “I had my job, and that was enough.”

“I can’t imagine you not having at least a few admirers. Devilishly handsome, mysterious, devoted, a great cook… you’re the whole package.” Rook smirked up at him.

“I’m sure I did,” Lucanis agreed with a chuckle, “but no one ever caught my eye like you before. I was never any good at flirting. Seducing targets was never my forte, I preferred the more… direct approach.” He paused, looking up briefly in thought. “There was the one time I tried to woo a Crow from another house by giving him a dagger…”

“Who could possibly reject that?” Rook teased.

“It wasn’t so much of a rejection as it was… a non-reaction. I don’t think he realized my intentions, and… I never had the nerve to clarify. Besides, I think he only has eyes for another. No matter how off and on they are.”

“Who was this mysterious Crow that ruffled your feathers?”

Lucanis hesitated, so Spite decided to answer for him. “Viago.” He revealed in a sing-song tone, emphasizing each syllable.

“Viago?” Rook repeated with a grin.

“Spite, stop reading my mind.” Lucanis frowned at the demon, then sighed. “Yes, it was Viago…”

“Well, I can’t blame you.” The mage laughed. “You have good taste, I’ll give you that.”

“What about you?” Lucanis decided to flip the question. “None of the other mages in the Circle ever swept you off your feet?”

Now it was Rook’s time to shrug. “By the time I was actually interested in romance I had moved into the Grand Necropolis. And… not many choices when you’re surrounded by undead and wisps. Although…”

“Although?” Lucanis prompted curiously.

“Okay, promise not to laugh.” Rook said as he held up his hand.

Now he had the Crow’s attention. “I promise.”

“...Vorgoth.”

Lucanis blinked in surprise. “That one spirit in the cloak with no discernible features?”

“Yeah…” Rook looked away, suddenly feeling bashful. “I don’t know, he was just… so mysterious, and that voice…”

“My Rook…” Spite grumbled, clearly not enjoying this conversation anymore.

Rook laughed. “Don’t worry, Spite. I’ve only got eyes for two now.”

Lucanis gently kissed the top of Rook’s head. “You know, that does explain why you were so quick to accept Spite’s affections. Your affinity for spirits goes beyond an… intellectual curiosity.”

“Are you teasing me?” Rook shifted again so he was looking into Lucanis’ eyes.

“Maybe.” He mused, then leaned in to kiss Rook again. The Crow tasted like coffee, and a need for more began to bubble up inside the mage. He reached behind him to trace his fingers along the back of the assassin’s neck and hold them there in that position. When Lucanis’ tongue gently asked for permission against the Watcher’s lips, he eagerly accepted and opened his mouth enough to meet it with his own. Moans escaped both parties.

Rook pulled away just long enough so he could set his mug down atop the piano and change positions. He knelt on the piano stool with both arms lazily wrapped around Lucanis’ neck. The assassin in turn spread his legs apart to make room as he pulled Rook into himself. He reached around to set his own mug beside Rook’s. Once his hands were free he rested them on his mage’s hips and continued their kiss.

Rook’s body tingled with pleasure. There he was, shirtless in the arms of the infamous Demon of Vyrantium, shivering at every touch and melting at every kiss. He yearned to feel Lucanis’ hands trace every inch of his body, and he wasn’t sure if it was all him or if it was enhanced by the demon inside him. Either way, he gave himself to the emotions willingly. He clung to his assassin desperately, curling his fingers so his nails pressed through the cloth against his lover’s skin.

Lucanis moaned and arched his back against the sensation. It wasn’t unpleasant, and the idea he could make Rook this desperate for him only enticed him further. He let his hands glide gently up the mage’s spine, pausing when he felt a scar so he could slowly trace it. He would memorize every inch of Rook’s body by the end of the night.

Rook shivered and gasped to break the kiss, only to move on to Lucanis’ neck. He drug his nails across the assassin’s back until he brought them around to start frantically undoing the buttons on his vest. “Why do you wear so many layers?” The mage breathed out impatiently.

Lucanis chuckled. “It adds to the mystery.” He teased, then gently pushed Rook away. “Allow me.” He slowly, expertly, began to undo each button of his vest and shirt, keeping eye contact with the mage as he did.

Rook watched with hungry eyes. He squirmed impatiently, his hands itching to just rip open the Crow’s shirt and bury his face against his skin. “I thought you said you weren’t good at this.”

“I believe I also mentioned my love for romance novels before?” Lucanis teased as he undid the final button and let the fabric slide off his shoulders. Maker, he was beautiful. He had the build of a dancer or an acrobat. Well toned, but lean and flexible. Dark hair covered his chest and trailed down to a narrow line that reached below his belt. Rook felt a tad jealous of that. His own body hair was so light in color he might as well not have had any at all. It was why he often used makeup to color his eyebrows black.

Rook leaned back in to claim Lucanis’ skin with more kisses, leaving a trail down his throat until he got to the base of the assassin’s neck. He could feel the other man’s blood pulsing in his veins, practically smell it. He nipped at the spot tentatively, earning an encouraging moan from Lucanis. Just one little taste couldn’t hurt, could it? He opened his mouth, feeling his fangs and claws extending with that faint yellow glow of magic. One hand grabbed hold of the Crow’s hair to hold him in place, while the other dug his nails deep into the skin of his back.

Lucanis hissed in pain. “Rook, what–” before he could say more he felt the sharp stabbing of fangs in his neck and groaned. Blood flowed into Rook’s mouth, and he lapped it up hungrily. The Crow closed his eyes. He held the mage tight around the waist, unsure of what he should do. On one hand, his life was technically in danger. On the other… why did it feel so good? Like before, when Rook had fed from his wrist, the pain was brief before he actually started enjoying the sensation.

When Lucanis started to feel light headed, Spite’s wings erupted from his back and the demon took over long enough to push the mage away. “Enough for now. Still so much to do. To explore.”

Rook came to his senses after being pushed away, and his clouded eyes became clear again. Immediately he retracted his hands and leaned away from the Crow. “Lucanis, I’m so sorry! I-I couldn’t… I just…” he still had a trickle of blood dripping from his lips.

“It’s fine, Rook.” Lucanis assured him, reaching out to pull the mage back into his arms. Spite’s wings wrapped around them snuggly. “If you have to drink blood every now and again, I’d rather it be mine.” He said, gently wiping the blood from Rook’s face.

“It’s just… so weird.” Rook looked at his hand that had dug into Lucanis’ back. His fingertips glistened, stained with fresh blood. “Going from being a vegetarian to craving something like this.”

Lucanis thought about that for a moment. “You are fine with cheese, yes? Eggs, honey–that sort of thing?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I would consider blood to be in that category more than it being a part of meat. So, technically, you’re still vegetarian.”

Rook was stunned and stared at Lucanis for a moment, then laughed as his anxiety faded away. “I guess you’re right.” He looked at the spot on Lucanis’ neck that was still bleeding. Using a soft incantation, he healed the wound using his magic. He then did the same to the spot on the assassin’s back.

“See? No harm done.” Lucanis took Rook’s unbloodied hand and placed four gentle kisses on each knuckle.

“I don’t understand why you’re so calm about this…” he returned to staring at his blood stained fingers.

“We have demons in our heads, Rook.” Lucanis pointed out. “Things are bound to get a little… weird.”

“Yeah… she is a little intense around you.”

“She?” The assassin raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, Voracity. I don’t know, that’s just what feels right.” Rook shrugged. “She, they, it… all feel right.” He was still staring at his fingers as an impulsive thought ran through his mind. Raising his fingers to his mouth, he gave in and began to lick the blood off of them.

Mierda, that shouldn’t have been so attractive. The assassin watched as Rook cleaned off each one of his digits as if he’d just swiped frosting off of a cake. As soon as the mage finished, Lucanis pulled him into another kiss. He could taste his own blood in Rook’s mouth as their tongues met and danced together. The Crow’s fingers slipped into the waistband of his mage’s pants and teasingly caressed his inner thighs, drawing out a moan and causing Rook to eagerly lean into that hand.

The door to the music room suddenly slammed open just as Lucanis’ fingers moved towards their coveted prize. The two men broke their kiss and the assassin quickly pulled his hand away.

Taash was standing in the doorway, an axe held in their hands. “I smelled blood. Is everyone–” They stopped when they noticed the state the other two were in. “Oh. Right. That makes sense.”

Rook buried his face in Lucanis’ shoulder to hide how red he was turning.

“Everything is fine, Taash.” The assassin assured them, struggling to hide how flustered he was as well.

“Right. Well… have fun.” The Qunari took a step back and shut the door. "It's about damn time." Rook heard them say from the other side.

The two waited until they couldn’t hear their footsteps anymore, and then Rook sighed heavily. “I think I could use a snack… a real snack. And more coffee.”

“I’ll make us something.” Lucanis gave Rook’s hand another quick kiss before shifting the mage out of his lap so he could stand. He snatched his clothes off the ground and slid on his shirt. “Perhaps something sweet. Churros?” He asked as he held his hand out to help Rook up.

“Sounds amazing.” Rook smiled and accepted the hand.

Notes:

A taste of what's to come! (pun intended)

Chapter 16: Smells Like... Sweat and Steel

Summary:

Bellara has an idea to help with the fight against Illario; Rook and Lucanis train in the forest

Notes:

I didn't think I'd finish this one today. I think I'm coming down with that good old holiday cold. Wonderful. Still, the show must go on!

“No, absolutely not.” Lucanis stated firmly.

“What? Why not?!” Rook rested his fists on his hips as he challenged his boyfriend.

“Because Illario has your blood,” the Crow explained, determined not to back down from his position. “If you come with me to confront him, he could use it to control you.”

“He has your blood, too!” The mage insisted. “Aren’t our odds better together? He’s not a mage, he won’t be able to handle controlling two demons at once.”

“It’s too dangerous. I can’t take that risk!”

“Everything we do is dangerous.” Rook pointed out. “I should be there. I have a bone to pick with him too, you know.”

“I know, but…” Lucanis sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Lucanis…” Rook’s frustration faded and his expression turned to sympathy. He reached forward and rested his hand on the assassin’s chest. “I want to be there with you. Whatever happens, we can handle it together. Isn’t that what we agreed on?”

“Rook should come. Tear. Illario’s. Throat out.” Spite interjected.

“Not helping.” Lucanis muttered to the demon before turning his attention back to Rook. He ran his fingers through his own hair. He couldn’t say no to that face. “Fine. I have to admit, I would feel more confident with you by my side.” He smiled and gently lifted Rook’s hand that was on his chest to his lips to kiss his fingers.

“We have a few days before Illario’s little party, right?” Rook returned the smile with a confident one of his own. “We can think of some way to try to counter the blood magic before then.”

“Oh!” Bellara spoke up from the doorway to the dining room where the pair had been arguing. “Sorry, didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but maybe I can help?”

The two turned to look at the elf as she made her way over to them. “You have an idea?” Rook asked hopefully.

“The Veil Jumpers recently found an artifact that seems to dampen magical effects around it. Maybe, with some tweaking, I could tune it to help block the effects of blood magic! Or, at least, lessen the effects.”

“What’s the catch?” Lucanis asked, shifting to rest a hand on his hip.

“Well…” Bellara put her hands together and bit her lip. “It would dampen all magic around it. Including yours.” She pointed at Rook. “And probably Spite, too. Maybe.”

“So I couldn’t use any magic?” The hope in Rook’s voice faltered and he sighed. “I wouldn’t be any help in a fight without magic…”

Lucanis regarded his boyfriend thoughtfully. “That’s not necessarily true.”

“Huh?” Rook turned back to the assassin.

“I’ve watched you on the battlefield, Rook. Your footwork is impressive, and the way you dodge has all the grace of a trained Crow.”

The mage let out a bashful laugh. “Yeah, well… sometimes the undead get a little rowdy in the Necropolis…”

“Lucanis, maybe you could help Rook train to fight without magic!” Bellara suggested in an excited tone. “And in the meantime, I can work on that artifact I mentioned.”

Lucanis and Rook exchanged glances, then nodded. “Alright, let’s give it a shot.” Rook said with a smile.

---

The trio took an outing to Arlathan Forest so Bellara could work on the artifact and the other two could find a good spot to train. They chose a section of the ruins that overlooked the river on one side. It was fairly clear of rubble and wide enough to give them space to practice maneuvers.

“Alright,” Lucanis said as he turned to face the mage. “Let’s see your stance.”

Rook nodded and drew his dagger. Out of instinct he also summoned an orb of necrotic energy in his other hand.

Lucanis tutted and shook his head. “No magic, remember?”

“Right, sorry.” The mage shook his hand and dispersed his magic. He relied so heavily on that orb during fights that now he was at a loss of how exactly to stand.

Lucanis approached him and moved Rook’s arms to a more appropriate position. “You’re fighting with only one weapon now, so you need to keep your sword arm extended like this.” He then moved to behind the mage to adjust his footing. The assassin placed his hands on Rook’s waist and used his own feet to nudge the other’s into the correct position. “The most important thing you need to remember is balance.”

Rook hadn’t heard a word his Crow said as soon as he felt the other’s body against his back. Especially when he felt hands on his waist. He wanted to melt into the other man’s arms and nuzzle against his neck, and felt his eyes fluttering closed.

“Rook?” Lucanis’ voice cut through the fog. “Rook, did you hear a word I said?”

Rook’s eyes snapped open. “Hm? Wha–oh, y-yeah! Of course I did.”

“Then repeat what I said.”

“I… something about balance?” He turned his head to face Lucanis with a nervous smile.

This time the assassin remained serious instead of falling for those eyes. “This is serious, Rook. Illario won’t hesitate to kill you this time, if for nothing else but to hurt me.”

“Right… sorry.” Rook took a deep breath to ground himself. “Okay, right. Balance.”

Lucanis moved back around to stand in front of the mage. He took out one of his daggers, but kept it sheathed. “We don’t have much time, so let’s focus on evasion and parrying today. You rely on your teleportation spell to sidestep enemy attacks, but you might not have it if Bellara’s artifact works as well as she described.”

“Right… how–” before he could get his question out, the Crow thrust his dagger towards Rook’s chest. “Woah!” He managed to step out of the way into a spin that gave him the momentum to swing his own weapon towards his attacker. The blade hit the sheathed dagger and Lucanis was able to push it back and twirl their weapons together in a way that forced the mage to lose his grip. The dagger clattered to the ground and the assassin’s sheathed blade was pressed to Rook’s throat.

“Not bad, but you’re still dead.” Lucanis said and took a step back so they could reset and try again.

“Not fair that my opponent is the Demon of Vyrantium.” Rook teased and took the stance the Crow had shown him.

“Illario is no pushover, so I won’t be holding back either.” Lucanis came in for another attack, aiming for Rook’s left side. The mage prepared to dodge away only for it to be a faint and he was hit hard on his right.

Rook grunted and stepped back, holding his side. That was going to bruise come morning, he could feel it.

The mage heard Spite growl. “Hurting. Rook!”

Lucanis flinched like he’d just been hit, but kept his composure. “We are training, Spite.”

“Spite, it’s okay.” Rook added quickly. “It’s better that I get hurt now rather than in a real battle. Besides, you can kiss all my bruises later to make them feel better.” He winked at Lucanis, hoping Spite was close by to see it.

That placated the demon so they could continue sparring. They continued on like that for a few hours, and with each new hit the mage took he was getting faster, lasting longer before the next one came. Eventually Rook could feel his exhaustion catching up to him, but Lucanis had one last trick up his sleeve.

The assassin had Rook backed up against the wall. The mage was covered in sweat and breathing heavily, but he was still focused on the fight. Lucanis swung his dagger, which Rook was able to block with his own. They held that position for a few seconds, blade pushing back against leather, until the Crow grabbed Rook’s wrist with his other hand and twisted. With a cry of pain he dropped the dagger, and Lucanis was able to catch it and pin the Watcher to the wall with the blade to his throat.

“Dead again.” Lucanis teased, but he didn’t back away. Instead he pressed closer, placing one of his legs tactically between Rook’s. “But not bad. I’d say we’d make a good Crow out of you yet.”

Rook had to lean his head back to keep the cool of the blade from touching his skin. His heart was pounding, but not in fear. “When do I get my cape?” 

“Soon.” Lucanis promised with a smirk. “I’ll have one made special just for you.” Being this close to Rook, the assassin could see the flush of Rook’s face and the glint of desire in his eyes. He raised an eyebrow. “Does this turn you on?” He gently touched the blade to the mage’s neck.

“N-no.” Rook lied, swallowing hard. He wasn’t able to turn his head away from Lucanis to hide his growing blush. “...Only because it’s you.” He finally admitted.

Lucanis leaned in until their lips were inches apart, but the dagger prevented Rook from closing the distance on his own. “Hm… you have been very good today. Perhaps you deserve a reward?”

Rook could taste Lucanis’ breath, and he wanted nothing more than to drink it all in. “Please…” was all he could say.

“Please what?”

This again? It seemed Spite wasn’t the only one who enjoyed teasing Rook in this way. The mage swallowed again. “Please… let me have my reward.”

Spite’s wings encircled the both of them, and Rook heard the demon purring. “Reward. Rook.”

Lucanis raised his knee between Rook’s legs up to his crotch. Slowly he began to grind into it, causing the mage to moan and close his eyes. “Well, since you asked so nicely. How could I say no to you?” The assassin whispered and pressed their lips together.

If not for the dagger to his throat, Rook would have melted into a puddle. Somehow the threat of the sharp weapon that could very easily end him with the smallest flick of Lucanis’ wrist made him that much more needy. Carefully, he began to grind his hips against his assassin’s leg.

Rook couldn’t do anything to deepen the kiss, so that part was entirely under Lucanis’ control. He teased the mage at first with gentle, shallow kisses, but the sounds Rook was making were enough to drive him wild. The Crow’s tongue pushed its way inside his partner’s mouth, earning yet another delectable moan.

Rook desperately wanted more, but there were so many layers of armor and clothing between them. He tugged at the straps around the Crow’s waist that held his many bottles of poison and throwing knives. If this went on much longer he might just slash the layers away with his claws. All he could do at the moment was pull Lucanis as close to him as possible, humping his leg like a dog in heat while he felt himself get wetter and wetter.

Lucanis wasn’t doing much better. With each thrust of Rook’s hips, his thighs met with the assassin’s growing erection. He could easily cut through Rook’s clothes and take him right then and there. Maker, how he wanted to.

“Rook! Lucanis!” Bellara’s voice called from below them. The two broke away quickly, if reluctantly, and Spite’s wings faded. “I think I got it!” She yelled out excitedly. Apparently she hadn’t seen them completely, so didn’t know the situation she had just interrupted.

With the dagger now pulled away from him, Rook slid down to the ground, panting. He closed his eyes to try and steady his frantic heartbeat.

Looking down at Rook in that state almost made Lucanis want to give in to his earlier fantasy of slicing away the mage’s clothing and ravishing his body. Instead, he flipped the dagger in his hand and offered the hilt to Rook.

Rook opened his eyes and accepted the hilt, letting Lucanis use it as leverage to help him to his feet. “If training is always going to end like that, I’ll train every day.” He said, still a little breathless.

Lucanis chuckled. “You won’t be saying that come tomorrow when you’re sore and covered in bruises.”

Rook smirked, his eyes half lidded as he ran a finger down Lucanis’ chest. “Sounds like a satisfying end of the night to me.”

“Guys?” Bellara’s voice called. She sounded unsure, like she was holding back a growing panic. 

Rook winced when he realized she was likely thinking about how he had been abducted after she’d left him alone in Treviso. “We’re here! Be down in a sec!” He called back quickly.

Spite grumbled as the two made their way down to join their friend.

---

“Are you sure this is safe?” Rook held up the golden wrist cuff and turned it in his hand. There was a blue stone set at the top with lines that snaked out from it all around the band.

“Totally!” Bellara said, then hesitated. “Well, probably. There might be a teeny tiny chance it could get stuck on your wrist.”

“What?” The band slipped from Rook’s fingers, but Lucanis was able to catch it.

The assassin took his turn examining the artifact. “And this will keep him safe from being controlled by Illario’s blood magic?”

“Yes! That part is for certain.” Bellara smiled confidently. “Unfortunately, I couldn’t get the resonance to tune into the right frequency to allow the wearer to cast any magic themselves. Maybe if I had another week with it…”

“Illario’s party is days away, we don’t have a week.” Lucanis reminded her.

“This will be fine.” Rook said and pocketed the artifact. He wondered briefly if he could wear it to bed in the lighthouse to stop Solas from watching his dreams. Maybe he’d wait until after Bellara finished tinkering with it before trying any experiments. “What about you?” He turned his attention to Lucanis.

“Spite and I can handle whatever Illario tries.” The Crow stated.

“I have a request.” Bellara said, getting the men’s attention back on her. “I want to come with you so I can keep an eye on the artifact. If it starts doing anything funky, I can at least calm it down.”

“That’s fine with me.” Rook said, then looked at Lucanis for his opinion.

“Sounds like a plan.” Lucanis agreed.

Notes:

I had the idea for this chapter and was excited until I realized it meant I had to write out a combat scene. Which is my biggest struggle. I do this to myself.

Chapter 17: Smells Like... Fangs and Talons

Summary:

Rook, Lucanis, and Bellara storm Villa Dellamorte to save Caterina and finally take their revenge on Illario, but when have plans ever gone smoothly?

Notes:

I don't care how sick I am, I'm writing this chapter dammit! I've been excited for this fight for a LONG time now.

Shhh, I totally didn't forget to name this chapter right away.

”That’s Villa Dellamorte?” Rook questioned, staring awestruck at the massive collection of buildings across from their perch. “You could fit a whole floor of the Grand Necropolis in there.”

“You should see some of the Villas in Antiva City. Come, we’re almost there.” Lucanis continued on, and it took the Watcher a moment to collect himself and follow behind.

Lucanis, Rook, and Bellara scaled the rooftops of Treviso towards the home of the First Talon. The plan was simple: get in quietly, rescue Caterina, then confront Illario. That last part could use a bit more polishing when it came to plans, but the team was good at improvising. Along the way they ran into Venatori waiting for them and learned that Illario had promised an alliance with them in exchange for the loyalty of the Crows. Rook knew Illario was desperate for power, but desperate enough to sell out his whole country to racist blood mages? He couldn’t wait to give the traitor a few new scars.

They followed Lucanis down off the roofs and to some old docks at the edge of the canals. The Crow pointed down one of the rickety wooden pathways. “We go under the bridge.”

Rook scrunched his face in disgust. “We aren’t… going through a sewer, are we?”

“No sewers in Treviso.” Lucanis stated as he led the way across the water. “The streets are barely above water as it is.”

Rook looked over the side of the dock into the inky black water below them with a frown. No wonder he never saw anyone swimming in the canals. Suddenly a romantic gondola ride with Lucanis sounded a tad bit less romantic.

“There’s a hidden escape route.” The Crow continued, not noticing the mage’s discomfort. “That’s our way inside.”

Rook picked up his pace to catch up with Lucanis as they reached the alcove under the bridge. “Wait, your house has a secret escape route? Wouldn’t Illario have posted guards?”

Lucanis looked back at Rook with a smirk. “Illario doesn’t know it’s here.” He walked over to the back of the alcove where some wooden planks were covering a crack in the stone. He shoved them aside to clear the entrance for them.

“Why not?” Rook asked as he squeezed through the crack behind the assassin, with Bellara coming in behind them.

“Caterina didn’t even tell me about it. I found it playing here alone as a boy.” Lucanis extended his hand to help Rook as soon as he made it to the other side.

“And you kept it all to yourself this whole time?” Rook took it and let the assassin pull him into his arms.

“A Crow never reveals his secrets.” Lucanis smirked, one arm held firmly around Rook’s waist while the other still held the mage’s hand. Rook couldn’t help his rising blush.

Bellara’s giggle snapped the two back to reality and they quickly got back to the task at hand. They had entered into what appeared to be a wine cellar, and much to the Crow’s disgust, it seemed Illario had invited the Venatori to sample their collection.

The group made short work of the blood mages, moving swiftly up through the kitchens and servant halls until they got to the Villa proper. Opening that final door, Rook saw a clean and polished version of the halls he saw in Lucanis’ mind. “And here we are.” The assassin said, watching Rook’s expression. “Welcome to Villa Dellamorte.”

Both Rook and Bellara were speechless. The Watcher took a few steps into the room and ran his hands across the top of a plush couch that must have been worth more than everything he owned combined. “No wonder Illario wants to inherit…” he ended up saying.

“Home?” Spite asked in a skeptical tone. “Smells like dust and linseed oil.”

“Don’t say that when Caterina is in earshot…” Lucanis gave the demon a look.

The group continued on, but Rook couldn’t stop staring. He had the urge to explore the halls and see where every door and hidden stairway led. It reminded him a bit of the Necropolis in that way. Except more gold and less green tinted veilfire.

“You really lived here?” Bellara asked as they headed for some stairs that lead to the next floor.

“Illario and I both did. Until we were eighteen.” Lucanis led them carefully through the house, after all just because they hadn’t seen any more Venatori yet didn’t mean they weren’t still there.

Having grown up in an orphanage, this was almost like a culture shock for the Watcher. Until he remembered the memories he felt in Lucanis’ mind. The pain his boyfriend had endured as training to be a Crow. All this opulence meant nothing.

The group moved through the halls, slaughtering any Venatori they came across, until they arrived at a dead end hallway with doors lining either side. “The family rooms are up ahead.” Lucanis informed them. “Caterina’s room is at the end.”

“First her. And then. We find what we seek.” Spite sounded eager for their planned meeting with Illario. Rook could imagine him rubbing his hands together in anticipation.

A few different quips ran through Rook’s head, but he kept them to himself. When they reached the door at the end of the hall, Lucanis tested it only to find it wouldn’t budge. “The door’s been barred from the inside.”

“So…” Rook summoned a flame in his hand, “we bust down the door and get attacked, probably?”

“Which is why I’ll go first.” Lucanis turned to Rook and then slowly lowered the mage’s hand. “And Rook, please don’t burn down my family home.”

“Right, sorry.” The flame sputtered out harmlessly as Rook took a step back.

Lucanis readied himself and then kicked the door open with his full strength. The assassin took the first step in, followed closely by Rook. Bellara was a few paces behind them. Something swung at Lucanis from the other side of the door, which he easily caught. Seeing who it was on the other end of the cane, his face immediately softened. “Caterina?”

“Lucanis! My poor boy!” The relief on the First Talon’s face matched Lucanis’ own as they greeted each other with two air kisses on either sides of their cheeks.

Rook suddenly felt very nervous standing there. Between his mixed feelings on how she had raised Lucanis and the mystery of how she’d react to knowing he was now dating Lucanis, the mage wanted to get out of there as soon as possible. He cleared his throat, “Um… hi. Rook, if you remember me. I, ah… brought him back.” He pointed at Lucanis, internally cringing at his own words.

“So you have.” Caterina said, her eyes seeming to appraise Rook quietly. He couldn’t read her expression, which only made him more nervous.

“We have to get you to safety, and then we’ll deal with Illario.” Lucanis said, once again oblivious to Rook’s discomfort.

“You’ll do no such thing.” Caterina’s attention shifted back to Lucanis. “There’s no time for heroic nonsense.”

“Heroic nonsense saved your grandson and is rescuing you now.” Rook rested a hand on his hip, feeling a bit more confident now that her eyes weren’t on him. “I won’t let Illario do more damage.” Plus, he had a score to settle.

Caterina regarded them and then came to a decision. “Go. I’ll meet you in the opera house.” She said and turned to leave before there could be any arguments.

Rook watched her go, a bit surprised Lucanis hadn’t tried harder to convince her. “Hope she can keep herself safe…”

“Welcome to House Dellamorte, Rook.” Lucanis flashed him a smirk and motioned for them to head out again.

The trio continued across the grounds, fighting off more Venatori along the way. As they dropped down from a balcony into a quiet courtyard, Rook couldn’t help but ask, “So why does your estate have an entire opera house on the grounds?”

“To entertain guests.” Lucanis stated as if this was obvious as he helped Bellara down.

“Right, how silly of me to ask…” Rook shook his head. They’d spent so long running around the villa, it felt like they’d traversed half a city. “I figured you were rich, Lucanis, but not this rich. Wait…” he stopped and frowned at the assassin. “If you have this much money, why am I the one paying for all of our equipment and upgrades?”

“My family’s money is not necessarily my own, Rook.” Lucanis pointed out as he continued to lead them through the grounds. “Besides, I pay for all of our groceries. Including that rare Orlesian chocolate you like so much.”

“Alright, got me there…” Rook admitted before jogging to catch up.

Finally the trio came to a large, round, brightly lit building. Two imposing statues of what Rook could only assume were actors stood on either side of the doorway. “This is it.” Lucanis confirmed. “Get ready.”

Rook pulled out the elven bracelet that would shield him from blood magic. He’d kept it off while they fought the Venatori, but now it was time to test it. His fingers fiddled with it as he stared up at the door to the opera house.

A hand came to rest comfortingly on the mage’s shoulder. “We will be alright, cariño.” Lucanis told him in a gentle voice. “I will not let anyone take you away from me again.”

“I’ll be right here in case anything goes wrong!” Bellara chimed in. “Not that I think it will, but… you know… just in case.”

Rook took a deep breath. “Thanks, guys…” without any more delays, he snapped the bracelet onto his wrist. The effect was immediate, and… strange was the only word he could come up with. It’s like he’d gotten used to the world’s white noise his whole life, and suddenly everything was quiet. It was… unsettling. He held up his hand and tried to conjure a flame, only for it to spark and fizzle out just inches above his palm.

Bellara was studying him, her fingers under her chin. “Fascinating. It seems like the bubble of protection around you is acting as a two way barrier. Magic can’t get out, but also magic can’t get in.”

“I don’t like it.” Rook shivered, wanting nothing more than to take the damn thing off and breathe in the magic from the Fade again. “Let’s get this over with quickly.” 

“Can’t see. Rook! ” Spite growled, but there was no reaction from the mage.

“Rook, could you hear Spite just now?” Lucanis questioned with a frown.

Rook turned to him with wide eyes. “I… no, did he say something?”

“He said he can’t see you anymore.” Lucanis replied, then looked at the demon who was now circling where Rook was standing. “He’s still here, Spite. Don’t worry, once we deal with Illario he can take off the bracelet.”

Spite was still unhappy, but accepted that answer. “As long as Rook is safe.”

“The band made you invisible to spirits?” Bellara’s eyes sparkled with interest. “I didn’t predict a side effect like that! Though, I suppose it makes sense, in a way. If you’re disconnected from the Fade, then beings of the Fade would also be disconnected from you. I wonder if we could use that somehow…”

“Maybe someone else can use it, but I want my magic back after this is over.” Rook said as he spun the band on his wrist anxiously.

“Then let us go ruin Illario’s day.” Lucanis said, and then led the trio into the opera house.

From the sound of it, Illario was in the middle of some grand speech by the time they arrived. They caught the tail end of it, “With our new allies, the Venatori, we could reclaim Antiva!”

Lucanis kicked in the doors and casually strolled in with Rook and Bellara behind him. “Over my dead body.” The crowd of Crows–murder of Crows?–seated in the stands stirred when they saw the Demon of Vyrantium alive and well. Some of them even cheered.

Illario turned around, seemingly unsurprised to see them. “That can be arranged.” He glared at them while Venatori agents stepped out of the shadows from all corners of the room. The Talons behind him all drew their weapons. Rook noticed the traitor Crow reach up and touch the pin on his chest, likely the source of his new found blood magic. Red energy swirled around his hands and he held one up towards Lucanis and Rook. “Yield.” He commanded.

Rook didn’t feel a thing, but Lucanis clearly did. He grunted and struggled against a force threatening to pull him down to his knees. “You can’t…” he took a step forward, and one glowing purple wing extended from his back, “overpower…” another step, and the second wing sprouted on the other side, “us both.” Both wings extended fully as the assassin squared up against the cursed magical force. Rook had to admit it was the hottest thing he’d ever seen them do.

“Now. You fall.” Spite’s voice came from Lucanis’ lips just before the Crow leaped into action.

Chaos erupted across the auditorium. Bellara started shooting the Venatori on the upper balconies before they could start taking pot shots at them. Rook pulled out his dagger and ran towards the closest mage as they tried to cast their first spell. The Venatori knew Rook as a mage and expected him to fight as such, so this one wasn’t ready when instead of blasting them with magic he rolled behind them and stabbed them in the back. That training with Lucanis was already paying off.

“You should have stayed dead, Lucanis!” Illario, now brandishing two red lyrium scythes, goaded his cousin from atop the stage. “All of this is on your head!”

“You started this.” Lucanis and Spite worked as one slicing effortlessly through the Venatori that got between them and Illario. “I’m ending it.” the demon leaped up using their wings as momentum and dove towards his cousin, dagger aiming straight for his heart. At the last second Illario teleported away, leaving behind only a red mist for Lucanis to slash through. Growling, the Crow scanned the room for where his cousin had gone, but was swarmed by more Venatori before he could locate him.

Rook had just finished killing another blood mage when he suddenly felt hands grab his waist from behind. “You chose the wrong Dellamorte, Rook.” Illario’s sickeningly charming voice sounded in his ear. Rage flared through the Watcher’s body, and he spun around to stab the Crow behind him, but he was already gone in a puff of red. He heard a laugh behind him and spun around again. “We could have ruled Antiva together, you know. You would never have had to go through that horrible experience with Zara.”

“Yeah, I’d rather kiss the Dread Wolf than spend another second with you.” Rook tried a thrusting attack Lucanis had shown him, but Illario dodged him again.

“Learn a few tricks from my cousin?” Illario smirked. “I know Lucanis’ fighting style better than anyone. Coming from you, it’s just slow and predictable.”

Rook was starting to get nervous. He tried to summon his orb, but all he got was another spark of magic in his palm that went nowhere. “I can still beat you with one hand.” The mage glanced around for Lucanis or Bellara, but both were preoccupied with their own opponents. 

“What’s wrong, Rook? Can’t use your magic?” Illario spotted the glowing blue crystal on Rook’s wrist. “Let me help you with that.” He was on the attack now, hacking and slashing at the mage faster than he really should have been with those weapons.

Rook rolled out of the way, but Illario kept coming. Without his magic he had no way to counter any of the attacks. As the next swing came for him he tried to block with the dagger, which he did the first one, but the second one sent it flying out of his hands. “Fuck.”

“That’s better.” Grinning, Illario swung his scythes again, but this time he was aiming somewhere specific. When Rook brought his arms up in front of him to block the attack, the red lyrium blades made contact with the magical artifact and fractured the crystal. The resulting blast sent both of them flying backwards. Rook hit the wall hard and crumpled to the floor, while Illario was able to flip in the air and right himself as he landed. The bracelet lay in scattered pieces across the floor.

The blast caught Lucanis’ attention, and he turned to see his mage struggling across the room to get back to his feet. “Rook!” He leapt forward, using the wings to give him extra speed.

But it wasn’t fast enough.

“Obey.” Illario’s voice commanded as red energy swirled around Rook.

Lucanis skidded to a halt ten feet from Rook, watching in horror as the mage rose from the floor with unnatural movements, his head slumped forward against his chest.

“Kill Lucanis.” 

Sharp claws shimmering with yellow magic grew from Rook’s nails, and when he looked up at Lucanis, four glowing yellow eyes glared at him hungrily.

Chapter 18: Smells Like... Love and Loss

Summary:

Lucanis must figure out how to break Rook free from Illario's hold.

Notes:

Literally AO3 went down as I pressed POST on this, I could have screamed.

The violence in this chapter is escalated (obviously), so I just wanted to give a heads up that there's a bit more detailed descriptions of injuries towards the end. And lots of blood.

I've never been more proud of a combat scene than I am of this one! I hope it satisfies!

“Kill Lucanis." The order echoed endlessly in the mage’s head. He tried desperately to resist, to reason with the demonic half of him now in control of his body, but it felt like he was inside a glass dome banging helplessly on the walls unable to be heard.

Lucanis knew what to do. If he could incapacitate Illario it would break his cousin’s hold on Rook. He buried his panic under Spite’s rage and lunged at Illario, only to be stopped mid air by what felt like invisible hands grabbing him and squeezing him tight. Rook had summoned his staff and held the Crow in his Necrotic magic. Lucanis could feel his energy being drained as he struggled against it. Meanwhile Rook looked like he was getting stronger, standing straighter.

“What’s wrong, cousin?” Illario goaded with a smug grin. “I thought you were the Mage Killer. Surely you can handle one little bird, no?”

The energy holding Lucanis burst as it released him, sending him flying back away from Rook and his cousin. Spite’s wings helped slow his momentum and land on his feet. This was bad. Of course he knew how to kill Rook, but he’d die first before even considering that option. “Bellara!” He shouted when he spotted the elf standing on the stage holding off more Venatori, “Distract Illario for me, would you?”

Bellara nodded and turned her attention to the traitorous Crow who had stepped back to watch the show. She fired an electrically charged magical arrow, which he managed to dodge, but at least she had his attention now.

Now Lucanis could focus on calming Rook down. The mage was approaching him slowly, staff gripped tightly in his claws. “Rook, you can fight this! You and Voracity took to each other much quicker than Spite and I. If we can do it, so can you!”

Instead of responding, Rook spun his staff and fired three icy shards of magical energy at Lucanis. The Crow dodged two and parried the third one easily. He had to get in closer somehow.

“Can’t. Hurt. Rook!” Spite angrily reminded Lucanis.

“I know, Spite.” Lucanis said with a grunt as he dodged more blasts of ice magic. After landing from flipping away from the last blast, he once again felt his energy begin to drain as green ghostly limbs sprouted from the ground around him. The Crow cursed and jumped out of the area of effect using Spite’s wings. They stayed in the air and circled Rook, scanning the battlefield to assess their options. It seemed most of the Venatori were dead, which just left Illario and Rook to deal with. Bellara was holding her own, keeping Illario away from her with her magic. His cousin didn’t have the same knack for killing mages that Lucanis did, thankfully.

“Kill. Illario!” Spite demanded. An image of their wings slicing the man’s head clean off his shoulders appeared in Lucanis’ mind.

“Not yet. Rook will just grab us again if we go after Illario now.” Lucanis reminded him, which earned a frustrated snarl from the demon. A few more ice shards whizzed past the Crow, which he dodged easily and then banked hard to land in front of his mage. “I know you’re in there, cariño! I need you!”

“We need you!” Spite added.

Rook took a swipe at Lucanis with his claws, which the assassin flipped back away from. “Feast.” Voracity’s voice was the one that escaped Rook’s lips. Raspy and desperate. “Blood.” Though the hungry glare didn’t falter, there was a line of tears forming from each of the four eyes.

Lucanis continued to dodge swipe after swipe, the mage’s staff all but forgotten now that he was up close. His mind reeled trying to think of how to break this spell without hurting Rook. Eventually the assassin’s back hit the cold, stone wall of the auditorium and he was forced to grab both of Rook’s wrists to stop the attack. Under Voracity’s control, the mage was far stronger than he should have been. “Rook!” Lucanis tried again, grunting from the effort of holding his partner back. “Please, come back to me!” The assassin’s voice was desperate, on the edge of despair. He couldn’t lose Rook to this, not now when they were so close to the end.

Rook growled in response, though there was hesitance in his strength now. A spark of hope ignited in the Crow, but before he could say anything he felt sharp fangs biting into his neck. The mage had turned the situation around, holding Lucanis pinned to the wall by his wrists while Voracity drank deep from the wound.

This was bad. The assassin had already started feeling the fatigue of battle from Rook’s necrotic spells; he wouldn’t last long if he lost too much blood here. “I’m… sorry for this, cariño.” He said before Spite’s wings blew up a gust of purple energy that tore the mage away from him. Biting back a cry of pain, the assassin pressed his hand to his neck and stumbled forward.

Rook landed with a roll and was instantly back on his feet. Blood trickled down the mage’s chin as he kept his eyes fixed on Lucanis. He was surrounded by a dozen Venatori corpses, and with a wicked grin he held his hands up at his sides. Green energy swirled around him, lifting him off the ground as it built up and spread out from his body. As the magic passed over the corpses, they started to pop and crack and stand on their own.

Maker, why did he have to fall for a Necromancer? Lucanis gritted his teeth and readied his blades. The undead Venatori rushed towards him, and he was able to slice through them just as easily as the first time he had killed them. The necrotic wind that surrounded Rook grew more intense with each step forward. It felt like each corpse the assassin cut down brought two more to replace it.

Inside the mage’s mind, Rook was shouting soundlessly for it all to stop. It was as if he was being held down by heavy chains and forced to watch this horrible play unfold before him. He watched helplessly as Lucanis and Spite fought their way to him through the corpses and the magic, desperately wanting to make that connection. Just as he was ready to give in… there was something else in his mind. Someone else.

The Watcher felt a strong, familiar presence cutting through the darkness. An invisible hand on his shoulder in support. A howl on the wind. Fen’Harel.

The magic vortex around Rook stuttered, giving Lucanis an opening to reach out and grab the mage’s shoulders and pull him back down to the ground. Corpses grabbed at the Crow to try and pull him away from their master, but he braced himself against them. “Come back to me, mi amor.” Lucanis tried again, “mi vida!”

Rook was so close to being able to reach out and claim his body once again. He strained against the magic controlling him, and as he did he heard something unexpected. Singing. In his mind he heard the Dread Wolf's voice, soft and steady as he sang a familiar melody. That was his que. He steadied his racing thoughts and began to sing along. “Bare your blade… and raise… it high…”

Though his voice was weak at first, the magic around him began to calm. The corpses released their hold on Lucanis one by one. The assassin recognized the song, but didn’t know all the words himself. However he knew the melody and hummed along, pulling the mage closer to him until their foreheads could touch.

“Stand your ground… the dawn will come…” Rook’s voice became stronger, and his eyes closed. The undead began to crumble as the necrotic magic dispersed. “The night is long… and the path is dark… look to the sky… for one day soon…”

Rook opened his eyes, and they were back to that same red amber that Lucanis had fallen in love with. Unable to wait for the song to finish, the assassin pulled Rook into a relieved kiss. The mage returned it eagerly, and when they parted they finished the song together, “The dawn will come.”

“What? No!” Illario watched the scene in disbelief. He had stopped trying to attack Bellara as soon as corpses started rising around him. He scowled and let his blood magic swirl around his hand again. “Obey! Kill him!”

Rook winced, and the glowing eyes of Voracity were back, only this time there was something else in their eyes. And they weren’t focused on Lucanis. The mage turned his attention to Illario. He took one step forward, then another, then another until he was in a full sprint. He felt his body change, his limbs elongating and his posture changing until he was running on all fours. In a brilliant flash of golden light, his body had shifted to that of a two-tailed white wolf.

Panic swept over Illario’s face and froze him to the spot as the massive wolf pounced. Too late he tried to jump away, and Rook’s claws connected with the Crow’s chest, tearing off the golden broach that granted him blood magic. It skittered uselessly across the floor.

“Yes!” Spite cheered and brought it and Lucanis closer behind Rook with a smooth beat of their wings so they had a better view of their victory. “Bite his head off! Tear his throat out!”

Lucanis wasn’t quite as enthusiastic as he watched Illario fall to his knees, clutching at the bleeding wound across his chest. This was still his cousin, his brother. One of the only two family members he had left. Was he truly ready to see his death? “Rook…” Lucanis reached out and laid a gentle hand in the wolf’s fur, stroking his side softly. “That’s enough.”

Illario chuckled; a wet, guttural sound as he looked over to Lucanis. “What are you waiting for, cousin? Finish what you start.” He goaded one last time.

Rook growled and took a step towards the traitor, causing the latter to hold his hand up as if he could still control the beast. The four glowing golden eyes watched him hungrily.

“I already did.” Lucanis moved forward, his hand still resting in his Rook’s fur. “What am I ever going to do that is worse than this? On your knees? In front of every house?” He gestured to the other Talons, who started to emerge from the shadows with bloodied weapons. It seemed like they took out their own share of Venatori.

Illario’s attention turned back to Rook. “I know you want to finish this. After all I’ve done, do you–” his words were cut off by his own screaming as sharp fangs clamped around his fingers. There was a chilling crunch , and when the wolf stepped back Illario was missing two fingers from his outstretched hand.

There were gasps from the audience, but no one moved. If a wolf could grin, Rook was grinning wide as the missing fingers fell from his jaws to the floor. Now satisfied, golden light shimmered around the form of the wolf, shrinking until the mage was standing there once again. He wiped the blood from his mouth with a smirk. “I’m sorry, did you need those?”

---

It was finally over. Caterina made her grand entrance, Illario was locked up (after his wounds had been tended to), and Lucanis was officially made First Talon. That last part worried Rook for multiple reasons, but he kept a cheerful smile on his face for the toast and subsequent celebration.

Both he and Lucanis were exhausted, but more than that they were relieved. Bloody, sweaty, sore, relieved, and never more than a few feet apart. Rook had quickly healed the bite mark on Lucanis’ neck with what little mana he had left, but that one was going to leave a scar for sure.

“I’m sorry about that…” Rook said quietly once the two were able to break away from the crowd congratulating the assassin on his new title.

“The bite?” Lucanis glanced at Rook from over the top of his wine glass with a smile. “No harm done. I think Illario got the worse deal on that end.”

Rook laughed and ran his fingers through his hair. “I can hardly believe I actually bit his fingers off. They were just… right there and I couldn’t help myself.” He took a drink from his own glass. “I was aiming for the whole hand, actually.”

Lucanis chuckled and drew Rook in by his waist. “I think your message was loud and clear, and it’s the message that matters more than the actual kill. I told you before you’d make a good Crow.”

“You know just what to say to a guy, huh?” Rook teased as he rested a hand against the assassin’s chest.

“I have my moments.” Lucanis answered and leaned in for a kiss.

“Lucanis?” Caterina’s voice cut through the moment and the two men took a step away from each other on instinct. She appraised the two, her expression unreadable. “I thought I raised you better than this.” She started, and Rook’s anxiety flared up inside.

“Caterina, I can–” Lucanis started, but then was cut off.

“Aren’t you going to formally present your new partner to your own grandmother?”

Both Rook and Lucanis looked at each other with stunned expressions, but then they relaxed. “Of course.” Lucanis gestured to Rook. “Caterina, me gustaría presentarte a mi novio, Rook."

“It’s an honor, ma’am.” Rook said, though he wasn’t sure if he should kiss her hand or bow or… wave. So instead he stood there stiff as a board.

The former First Talon regarded Rook again, but then she actually smiled. “It is about time my Lucanis found himself a partner. I had almost given up hope on him. Thirty-six years and not a single girlfriend or boyfriend.” She teased, a mischievous glint in her eyes that must be a Dellamorte family trait.

“Abuela…” Lucanis groaned, a blush forming on his cheeks.

“Take care of him, Rook. If you don’t, well… the Crows send their regards.” With that, Caterina walked away from the two to rejoin the other party goers.

Rook let out a long breath, “She’s terrifying.”

“Always.” Lucanis agreed, but there was affection in his voice. He looked back at Rook and pulled him in close once again. “Shall we make a discrete exit?”

“I’m ready, but are you sure? They’re celebrating you.” Rook teased. He knew Lucanis didn’t like to be the center of attention, and the mage was more than eager to oblige.

Lucanis hummed, sounding almost like a purr. “I have other plans for the evening.” He said with lidded eyes.

Notes:

Surprise! Rook isn't a vampire, he's a werewolf! (or both?) I have been sitting on this reveal for a while now and I hope it was able to deliver the way I wanted it to! Next chapter is the moment we've all been waiting for...

This chapter is dedicated to my most special friend, Q. This wolf's for you~

Song: The Dawn Will Come (Inquisition)
Translation:
“Caterina, me gustaría presentarte a mi novio, Rook." // “Caterina, I would like to introduce you to my boyfriend, Rook.”

Chapter 19: Smells Like... Temptation and Satisfaction

Summary:

Rook, Lucanis, and Spite finally get to spend a night together, and they take full advantage.

Notes:

Please enjoy this longer chapter of fluff and smut, I think we've all earned it.

Rook signaled to Bellara that they were leaving, and the elf looked just as relieved at that news as the boys were. She also didn’t like crowds, and it was clear her social meter was starting to run low. Once the team was outside, however, Lucanis stopped them. “Bellara, do you think you can make your way back to the Eluvian alone?” The Crow asked, his arm still around Rook’s waist.

“Hm?” Bellara gave the assassin a questioning look, but then her eyes widened as she caught on. “Oh! Um, yes I think I can. Well, once I get out of the Villa first. I’ll see you two back at the Lighthouse in the morning, then?” She asked with a giggle.

“Perhaps the afternoon. We shall see.” Lucanis answered, earning another giggle from Bellara and a blush from Rook. The boys escorted Bellara to the entrance to the manor and said their goodbyes. Once the door was closed, Lucanis turned to the mage with a warm smile. “Come. Allow me to give you a proper tour of Villa Dellamorte.”

It wasn’t really a tour, more like sharing the most direct route to Lucanis’ old bedroom. Rook’s heart was beating so loud he was certain his Crow could hear it. There wasn’t going to be any interruptions this time. Finally the three of them were going to have the night all to themselves, regardless of how sore either of their bodies were from the fight. All of that was forgotten as Lucanis pushed open the door to his room.

As large and opulent as it was, it was also surprisingly sparse. Only the bare minimum of furnishings, and seemingly no personal touches anywhere. Though, he supposed that made sense seeing as Lucanis said he hadn’t actually lived there since he was eighteen. Rook didn’t have time to dwell on it, however, as after locking the door behind them the assassin pulled him further into the room towards another door.

“Not going straight to the bed?” Rook teased, his eyes lingering on the elegant four poster bed with rich purple curtains drawn closed, enticing him inside like a desire demon.

“Patience, Rook.” Lucanis chuckled and opened the door on the far side of the room to reveal a lavish private bathroom. “Do you know how hard it is to clean blood from silk? No, first… a bath.”

Rook glanced down at himself and his blood soaked clothes. “Good point…”

“Another bath with Rook.” Spite chimed in with a sing-songy voice. “This time we get to touch more.”

Rook felt his face flush at the memory of Spite ‘caring’ for him in the bath. “Much more.” He agreed breathlessly.

Lucanis was already undoing the straps of his armor. When he noticed Rook staring, he slowed down. Meticulously undoing each buckle and sliding out each dagger with a flourish. Lucanis may not have been experienced in seduction, but when he got it right he got it right. “Need a hand, cariño?” The Crow asked as he finally revealed his bare chest.

Rook had been staring the entire time, not moving to start to remove his own armor at all. At the question he snapped out of his trance and started to clumsily undo his own buckles.

Spite chuckled, taking over Lucanis momentarily and stepping over to the mage. “Let me.” The demon purred. It was much quicker and rougher than Lucanis was, but that only spurred Rook’s desires. Leaning in as it tugged on the mage’s clothes, Spite inhaled deeply. “Smells like blood and temptation.”

“Only you could make smelling like blood sound sexy.” Rook said with a laugh, which turned into a soft moan as Spite’s lips met with his own. The mage eagerly returned the kiss as he felt bits of his armor be ripped off and tossed aside. Soon his own chest was exposed, leading the demon to move its lips down first to Rook’s neck, then to his collarbone, and finally flicking its tongue over his nipple. That sent a shiver of pleasure through his body, almost making him sway on the spot.

“Not yet, Spite.” Lucanis’ voice was back, and the assassin straightened up to catch Rook’s lips with his own. “In the cupboard behind you there are several soaps to choose from. Pick your favorite while I check the water.” He said once the kiss broke.

Rook nodded dreamily and let the assassin step away. He turned around and opened the cabinet he presumed Lucanis was talking about and found himself staring at at least a dozen different bottles and bricks of soap. It reminded him a bit of the Lighthouse’s baths, and he wondered if it was Lucanis’ influence that created the space. He chose his favorite, Lilac, which was actually rather rare even though the scent of the flower was heavenly. Apparently it was difficult to work with to get any sort of strong scent to stick.

Once he had chosen, he decided to remove the rest of his clothing. His heart was pounding, out of both excitement and nerves. Technically he’d been naked in front of Lucanis before, but this would be the first time he would be presenting himself like this. There was always that irritating little doubt in the back of his mind that he wouldn’t be accepted as he was. That his body would disappoint. He shook his head to chase those thoughts away and glanced in the full length mirror beside the door. He really was a mess. Dried blood was smeared across his chin, in his hair, on his skin where it had soaked through his clothes. Several more bruises were forming from the fight, discoloring his skin and making him look more like the dead he worked with. Beneath that were the scars he’d gotten over the years from either rowdy undead or wayward spells. Yet… this is what Lucanis wanted. This is what Spite craved. Him.

Lucanis made quick work of the rest of his own clothing. He only winced once from pain. a cracked rib, perhaps two, but it was nothing he couldn’t handle. A healing potion and Emmrich’s magic would fix him right up. Rook’s healing was fine, but it didn’t run as deep as the older mage’s did. That did give him an idea, however and he rummaged through another cabinet to find what he was looking for. An old Crow trick, throwing a health poultice in the warm water and letting it dissolve to enhance the healing process. Soon the room smelled like royal elfroot.

The assassin entered the bath first, desperate to feel that soothing heat against his weary body. The tub itself was set into the wall and big enough for at least three people. It was nice for meditation, though before meeting Rook he had no idea why it ever needed to be so big. He sighed softly as he settled against the wall and waited for his Rook.

Rook heard the splash of water and realized he’d been staring at the mirror for longer than he’d realized. Face flushed, he peaked around the corner to see Lucanis already in the bath, arms stretched out to either side and head leaned back with his eyes closed. He really was the most beautiful man Rook had ever seen. The mage quietly set down his chosen oils and scrubs beside the tub and tested the bath with his hand. Feeling the comfortingly warm water gave him pause, “Wait, how is there warm water already? Didn’t you say you haven’t lived here since you were a kid?”

Lucanis lazily opened an eye to gaze at Rook with a smirk. “I had the servants come up and get everything ready for us before we got here.”

Rook blinked in surprise. “When did you do that?”

“When Bellara was interrogating you about how it felt to have a tail. Well, two tails.” Lucanis lifted his arms and motioned for Rook to join him. “Come, I need to feel you in my arms.”

The mage needed no further encouragement. He carefully stepped into the tub and sank into the water. Maker, it felt good. Smiling, he shifted to rest against the assassin’s chest and felt strong arms wrap snugly around him. Lucanis planted a quick kiss in Rook’s hair, and the mage sighed in blissful contentment. “I could get used to this.”

“Which part?” Lucanis mused. He let his fingers lazily trace over Rook’s tattoos like Spite had done before. The fact that both had thought to do the same thing tickled the mage in a way.

“All of it.” Rook closed his eyes and nuzzled against Lucanis’ neck. “But mostly this.”

Through the warmth of the water, the mage suddenly felt a cold chill gliding up his chest. The water seemed to be disturbed by something, though neither of the men had moved. It didn’t take long for Rook to realize what it was as he opened his eyes. “Spite?”

Spite chuckled, and brushed their fingers across Rook’s cheek. “Here. Always here.” They cooed. They’d taken their spot on the other side of Lucanis, who had shifted so now one arm held Rook while the other was stretched out behind Spite. The assassin couldn’t exactly hold the spirit, so this was the next best thing.

Seeing both of his loves in his arms felt surreal. “I wish you could see Spite, Rook. See how perfect this scene is in its entirety.”

Spite purred in agreement.

Rook raised a hand, now wet from the bath, and held it in front of Lucanis’ chest towards where he assumed Spite was. “Maybe I can… imagine it.” He closed his eyes and flexed his fingers. “Take my hand, Spite?”

The demon reached out tentatively, unsure of how much they could truly manipulate here outside of the Fade. Their fingers touched Rook’s palm, then slowly fanned out as they pressed their hands more firmly together. Their fingers intertwined, and both of them smiled at once. Spite was surprisingly gentle with Rook sometimes, like they were afraid of hurting the mage. The exact opposite energy the demon showed to Lucanis. Probably because Spite knew what the limits of the Crow’s body were by this point.

Rook pictured Spite how they had appeared in Lucanis’ mind. A mirror image of the assassin, except glowing in a brilliant purple aura. He could imagine the sly smile, the glint of desire in their eyes. “What did you look like before you met Lucanis?” Rook asked suddenly, keeping his eyes shut.

Spite hummed, shifting it’s and Rook’s hand back and forth in amusement. “Taller,” it decided was the best answer.

Rook let out a snort laugh, but Lucanis pouted. Spite grinned at the Crow, who tried to splash the demon with the water. It went through them harmlessly. “My size is ideal for my job, you know.” He defended himself, “Easier to hide and squeeze through tight spaces.”

Spite’s grin widened like they were about to make several innuendos, but Rook beat them to it. “I can think of a few tight spaces you can squeeze through tonight.” The mage said, which earned a laugh from Spite.

Lucanis shook his head with a sigh. “Mierda, what am I going to do with you two?” He took Rook’s wrist and brought their hands to his lips so he could kiss both of their fingers at once.

There was a mischievous glint in the demon’s eyes, and it tugged Rook suddenly to bring him into Lucanis’ lap. “I can think of something.” It said with a chuckle.

“Woah!” Rook was not prepared for Spite’s connection to be that strong, but luckily Lucanis was able to catch him before he fell under the water and shifted their positions so the mage was resting between his legs. “Spite, what the hell? How… how did you do that?”

“Lucanis and Rook are connected.” Spite explained. “I can touch Rook now. Like I touch Lucanis.” It moved so it was now kneeling between Rook’s legs, hands resting on his knees.

Rook’s eyes widened. “Really?” Did that mean one day he might actually be able to see Spite as well? If he and Emmrich worked together, they might be able to tweak the spell, tighten the connection. “So… how do you touch Lucanis?” Rook’s question held the hint of desire underneath his enthusiasm. An unspoken invitation.

Spite’s and Lucanis’ eyes met, and the Crow nodded. Lucanis snaked his arms around Rook and pressed a tender kiss to his neck. “Would you like us to show you, cariño?”

Rook nodded and closed his eyes. He leaned back against Lucanis in a way that exposed more of his neck to the other man. The assassin eagerly accepted the invitation and planted kiss after kiss against his skin.

Spite nudged Rook’s legs until the mage had them draped over Lucanis’ own. The demon’s fingers slid down Rook’s thighs, rested briefly on his hips, and then trailed up his chest. All teasingly slow and avoiding the most sensitive areas for now, making the mage squirm and whine softly.

Lucanis’ growing arousal was pressed against Rook’s back, and each movement the Watcher made elicited a soft moan from the Crow from the friction. He kissed and nipped and licked at Rook’s neck, savoring the salty taste of his sweat. “Just relax and let us take care of you.” Lucanis breathed into his ear before softly nipping at it.

The sight of Rook so open and vulnerable, so trusting, nearly drove the demon wild. They wanted him now. Hard and fast, screaming their name. But no, not yet. They discovered that they enjoyed teasing and playing and letting their partner’s desire grow until it overwhelmed. So Spite leaned in and pressed cool, teasing kisses against Rook’s skin. “Take good care of Rook.”

The mage’s breathing was heavy with need, and he reached back behind him to lock his arms around Lucanis’ neck. He kept his eyes closed, envisioning every move Spite made, though it was hard to focus when Lucanis was also worshiping him from behind. The Crow’s hands joined with Spite’s in exploring their Rook’s body. “Please…” he said through staggered breaths.

“Please what?” Lucanis teased. His hands then moved up to tangle in Rook’s hair and gently massaged his scalp. This earned a moan that put a satisfied smile on the assassin’s lips. “You need to use your words, cariño.”

Rook groaned as Spite’s mouth found his nipple. Their tongue flicked across it like before, then they took it between their lips and sucked. The hot arousal growing in the mage’s core tried to force his legs closed, but the demon’s firm hands kept him locked in place. “P-please… I need more.”

“More what?” Came Spite’s voice paired with an amused chuckle. They glanced up at their Rook as they nipped at the poor overstimulated bud in front of them.

These two really were going to kill him, Rook thought. This had been some long con contract and he would die as a puddle of goo in their arms. There were worse ways to go. “Touch me more.” The mage said, though he knew exactly what the response was going to be, so he swallowed and clarified. “L-lower.”

One of Spite’s hands moved from Rook’s leg to just below his belly button. Their fingers danced lightly on the surface of his skin. “Here?” They asked playfully, knowing the answer.

“L-lower.” Rook squeezed his eyes shut, letting out a gasp as he felt Lucanis bite at his neck. Likely revenge for the bite from earlier, and definitely hard enough to leave a mark.

The demon’s fingers slid achingly close to Rook’s folds, stopping just above in his mound of soft white hair. “Here?”  

Rook groaned and tried to thrust his hips up into Spite’s hand, but he was still held firmly in place. “Please, Spite, I need to feel you inside me!” The mage gasped out.

“As you wish.” The demon teased. They switched sides to start licking Rook’s other nipple, earning more satisfying moans. Their fingers slid down to tease at Rook’s folds, feeling the difference between the warm water and the heat of the mage’s slick arousal. 

One finger entered Rook, and he arched his back against the feeling. The contrast between the demon’s cold phantom fingers and the steaming water he soaked in was almost too much. And Spite had barely begun to touch him. “F-fuck…”

Lucanis was now fully hard against the mage’s back. How could he not be after that display? But the night was only just beginning. “Just Spite?” The assassin teased and nuzzled into Rook’s neck.

“I-I want–” Rook was cut off by another moan as the demon slipped another finger inside him and curled them, wanting to reach every possible inch they could. “I-I… I need to feel Lucanis, too…”

One of the assassin’s hands moved down Rook’s front, stopping momentarily to trace the scars on his chest. Then his fingers easily slipped in to join Spite’s. The mage squirmed again, moaning louder. It was a strange sensation, feeling them both. Their fingers blended together, phasing through each other to give pleasure anywhere they pleased.

Spite and Lucanis caught each other’s gaze. Both with eyes lidded and faces flushed. A perfect mirror of the other. The demon leaned in to catch his Crow’s lips with their own as they continued to pleasure Rook between them. As their kiss deepened, they moved their fingers in and out of the mage, finger fucking him and earning more and more delicious moans.

Rook bucked into their hands frantically, causing the water to slosh over the side of the tub. No one cared. Then Spite had an idea and broke their kiss with Lucanis. Giving the assassin a wink, they then disappeared under the water. Since this image of Spite was just a magical projection of the demon in his head, they didn’t actually need to breathe.

Rook was lost in his pleasure, and whimpered when he felt first one set of fingers and then the other leave him empty. He opened his eyes and looked back at Lucanis desperately. The assassin only smirked and watched in anticipation. He watched as Rook’s eyes widened and he let out another long moan, then they fluttered shut once again.

Spite’s tongue had replaced their fingers, and they were hungrily lapping up the pent up arousal inside of Rook. The demon kept Rook’s legs in place while they worked. They explored every inch of the mage’s sex from inside out. Not wanting to miss out on the fun, Lucanis’ hand gently grasped Rook’s engorged clit between his fingers and began to rub it in circles.

Rook cried out as he felt his pleasure building to a crescendo. “Sp…Spite! Lucanis! I-I can’t… I’m…” words were proving much harder to form than before.

The reply came in unison, Spite’s and Lucanis’ voices harmonizing around the mage. “Come for us, cariño.”

That pushed Rook right over the edge. He squirmed and bucked and rode out his orgasm as the other two continued their relentless attacks. Wave after wave of pleasure, until he slumped back against Lucanis, panting and dazed.

Spite’s head emerged from the water, their eyes gleaming in satisfaction as they admired the work it and Lucanis had done. “That’s one. ” The demon mused with a mischievous grin.

“One?” Rook opened his eyes and glanced between Lucanis and the empty space in front of him he presumed was Spite.

“One of many.” Lucanis promised. His own aching need was still pressed against the mage’s back, but he held back for now. “But first, let us finish this bath before we get wrinkles. Then we can start the real fun.”

---

Rook didn’t realize how much he enjoyed the feeling of someone else washing his hair until it was Lucanis behind him. The touches on his scalp sent jolts of pleasure through the mage just as strong as any kisses or bites. It made finishing washing up that much harder to focus on, but his need to be filled by more than fingers ran deeper than anything else he felt in that moment.

The mage collapsed onto the bed, falling through the curtains onto the silken sheets with a sigh. His hair was still wet, but they’d towel dried each other to an acceptable state. He closed his eyes and savored the feeling of the soft bed, imagining what was about to happen. When Lucanis didn’t join him right away, he pushed himself up onto his elbows and looked around. “Lucanis?”

No answer. Rook sat up, tucking his legs under him so he was kneeling on the bed. He brushed the curtain separating the bed from the rest of the room to the side and peaked out. The room was dark save for a few last flickering candles and the moonlight streaming through the window. He was starting to get worried. “Lucanis?” He asked with a bit more urgency.

A polished blade pressed to his throat from behind was his answer. His heart nearly stopped in terror until he felt a familiar arm wrap around his waist. “Rook liked this before.” Spite said, having momentarily taken control. They had snuck up silently from behind like the professional Crow Lucanis was. As soon as Rook realized he wasn’t in any real danger, his terror turned to pure arousal. “He likes it still.” The demon observed with a chuckle.

Rook moaned in response, leaning back against Spite and tilting his head up. The cool blade slid harmlessly against his skin, though one wrong move could easily change that. The mage reached up and grasped at Spite’s arms as if he were going to try to push him off, but he didn’t.

The demon laughed and leaned in to plant hungry kisses against Rook’s neck. These were less gentle than Lucanis’ had been, and were certainly going to leave multiple marks. All the mage could do was moan, unable to move with the dagger pressed against him. “Recognize this?” Spite asked once he was satisfied with his work on Rook’s neck. He moved the blade just enough to be in the mage’s line of sight. From the intricate handle to the glistening white of the blade, he knew exactly what it was.

“The Wyvern-Tooth dagger…” Rook breathed out, and was rewarded with Spite’s hand wrapping firmly around his neck. It wasn’t enough to impede his airway, but it did hold him steady.

“Lucanis’ favorite.” Spite mused. He brushed the side of the blade across Rook’s cheek. “Reminds him of you.”

That simple little gift that Rook had picked out on a whim. He hadn’t known about Lucanis’ love of wyverns, he just thought it looked the nicest out of what the shopkeeper had. It was what started this all. The way the Crow’s eyes lit up in excitement as he admired every detail of the knife in his hands, that moment was seared into Rook’s memory. That was when he knew he was going to fall head-over-heels for the Demon of Vyrantium.

Now Spite was using it to send shivers of pleasure through him. They took their time, letting the cool blade dance across Rook’s skin as they brought it lower and lower. For a moment, the mage was afraid of what the demon had planned. With the way Spite was holding him, he could no longer see where the dagger was going. That fear melted away as soon as he felt the engraved hilt slide between his still wet folds, and he moaned. 

“Soon to be Rook’s favorite.” Spite teased and slid his tongue slowly up the back of Rook’s neck.

Rook shivered and found himself grinding against the hilt of the blade. Behind him he could feel Spite’s–Lucanis’–hardened cock against his thighs. Maker, he started to grind against that, too.

A low moan escaped Spite’s lips, and he nibbled at Rook’s ear in response. “One more.” He practically growled. “Come for me. Once more. Then we fuck you. Hard.”

The demon’s bluntness brought the next orgasm much quicker than the last. Rook didn’t last long until his knees started to shake and he was thrusting frantically, wanting desperately to be impaled by something. He rode this second wave with a loud gasp and heavy breathing, his body pressing as hard as it could against Spite.

“That’s two.” Came Lucanis’ voice, and the grip on Rook’s neck loosened. The mage’s legs gave out on him and he crumpled onto the bed, trying to catch his breath. Lucanis regarded his dagger, handle now slick with Rook’s juices. He made sure his mage was looking up at him before he ran his tongue along the whole length.

Rook whimpered at the sight and rolled onto his back. He spread his legs out for Lucanis and looked up at him through lidded, lust-filled eyes. He was past the point of being bashful about asking for what he wanted. “Please, Lucanis… fuck me. I need you.”

Spite’s wings burst out from the Crow’s back as he knelt over the mage. He set the dagger aside and positioned himself between Rook’s legs. Lucanis cradled Rook’s head in one hand and brought him into a tender, needy kiss. Both men moaned as the assassin used his other hand to line himself up, and slowly, gently ease himself inside of Rook.

“Lucanis!” Rook broke the kiss to gasp out his name, but his lips were quickly claimed again. The mage gripped the silk sheets under him so tight his knuckles turned white. Spite’s wings enveloped the two of them in their soft purple glow.

Lucanis was slow, unsure. He didn’t want to hurt Rook, so he took his time. When he felt his lover tense, he pulled back, and when Rook relaxed again he pushed in a bit farther. They played this game until the assassin was fully sheathed inside of the mage.

Rook saw stars, even with his eyes closed. He hooked his legs around Lucanis to pull himself as deep as he could possibly go, earning a gasp from the Crow on top of him.

“Mierda…” was all Lucanis could say as he moved his hips with Rook’s. They quickly found a rhythm, gaining speed as the two gained confidence in their pleasure.

But Rook wanted more. Needed more. He felt that now familiar sensation in his core, a need that both was and wasn’t his. With a low, rumbling growl he grabbed Lucanis’ shoulders and rolled them over so now Rook was straddling the Crow.

Lucanis had been so lost in his own pleasure that it took him a moment to even realize their positions had switched. He stared breathlessly at the sight above him. Rook, sweaty and panting, eyes glazed over with lust. But it wasn’t just Rook’s eyes. Two glowing golden eyes joined Rook’s own red-amber spheres, right where Voracity’s second set of eyes usually appeared. The assassin was staring up at a perfect mixture of the two, and they wanted him.

Spite’s wings fluttered in excitement beneath him as Rook repositioned himself, lining up Lucanis’ throbbing erection once again and sliding down onto it with ease. Lucanis grabbed Rook’s hips with a groan, helping as they moved together again.

Rook placed his own hands on top of Lucanis’, groaning as he rocked his hips in time with his Crow’s thrusts. Neither was going to last much longer, but that was okay. Lucanis could feel the growing pressure and spoke through his panting breaths, “R-Rook…”

Rook interrupted him, reaching forward and placing a clawed finger to the assassin’s lips. “Now you come for me.” He said, his voice just as perfect a mixture of Voracity’s and his own.

Lucanis cried out as he felt his release fill the mage completely. Their hands came together, fingers intertwining as they rode this final wave together. At the end of it, Rook collapsed on top of the assassin, breath hard and heavy. “Mierda… that's three.” Rook said with a lopsided smile.

Lucanis chuckled, just as breathless, as he wrapped his arms tight around his lover and nuzzled into his neck. “That’s my line.”

“I wanted to try it out.” Rook teased. Carefully, he raised himself off of Lucanis’ softening cock and then curled up on his side, clinging to the Crow. Their legs tangled together, and the mage stared into Lucanis’ sleepy eyes. “That was…”

Lucanis drew Rook into one more gentle kiss before he could finish. “I agree.”

The two fell asleep like that, finding comfort in each other’s arms while Spite’s wings covered them like a blanket.

Notes:

I'd call this... the calm before the storm. Hope it was an enjoyable ride so far!

Chapter 20: Smells Like... Hope and Strawberries

Summary:

Rook and Lucanis enjoy the blissful morning after and talk about what the future holds.

Notes:

I have defeated my cold by sleeping for approximately 16 hours, and am ready with fresh new ideas for how to continue here! Thank you again everyone for your kind words and making it this far! Have some fluff.

Rook slept better that night than he had in a very, very long time. He wasn’t sure what time it was when he finally stirred from unconsciousness, but as his eyes fluttered open he smelled the unmistakable aroma of fresh coffee. “Mmm…” he moaned and stretched his stiff body, feeling several of his joints pop satisfyingly. His hands reached out around him, but found no one else there with him. Still slightly groggy, he sat up to find himself tucked snuggly under the blankets with the bed curtains still drawn to give him some relief from the morning sunlight peeking through the cracks. “Lucanis?” His voice croaked, making him clear his throat.

He got his answer as the curtains drew back and let the light fully engulf him. He raised a hand up to shield his eyes and groaned. He had to resist the urge to actually hiss. Not beating the “vampire” accusations with that one.

“Buenos días, corazón.” Lucanis’ voice dripped over him like honey. He was already dressed in his usual suave style and ready for the day. “I have coffee and breakfast ready whenever you are.” The assassin knelt on the bed so he could pull Rook into a quick morning kiss.

“Already?” Rook rubbed his eyes as Lucanis pulled away.

“You were out for a while.” The assassin mused as he tied back the canopy to the bedposts. “After yesterday’s fight–and last night’s escapades–I thought I would let you sleep.”

The mage felt his face flush as the memories of the night before replayed in his head. The fantasies he’d dreamed up over the months since meeting Lucanis could never compare to the real thing. He stretched out again and flopped back against the cool silk pillows behind him. He wasn’t ready to go back to the Lighthouse–back to reality–just yet. While he laid there in Lucanis’ bed, he could imagine he didn’t have the fate of the world on his shoulders. There weren’t any rampaging elven gods or angry, severed dreams of the Titans. Just him, Lucanis, Spite, and coffee.

Rook was pulled out of his thoughts by Lucanis as he set a neatly folded pile of clothes on the bed. “I’m not sure how well they will fit, but I have some of my old clothes here if you’d like.”

The idea of putting on his blood-crusted armor made Rook wrinkle his nose, so he was glad to at least have another option. “From when you were eighteen?” He asked in amusement.

“You may be taller, but your frame is smaller. I’m sure that evens it out, no?”

“I’m just imagining the looks I’m going to get coming home in your clothes.” Rook teased as he swung his feet off the side of the bed so he could stand.

“I can go out and get you something else if that doesn’t work.” The assassin offered sincerely, not catching on to Rook’s tone.

“No, no. It’s fine.” The mage laughed and stood. Though he was still naked, he stepped over to Lucanis and leaned in for another quick kiss. “Thank you.”

The Crow wrapped his arms around Rook and held him in a gentle embrace, not letting go even after the kiss. “Anything for you, cariño.”

Rook nuzzled against Lucanis’ chest, inhaling his scent and savoring the moment for just a little longer before he pulled away. He grabbed the clothes Lucanis had picked for him and went to the bathroom to freshen up for the day.

The clothes actually fit decently, all things considered. As he feared, the pants were a bit too short, but if he tucked them into his boots no one would notice. They were simple, slick black trousers and a matching leather belt. The shirt was dark blue, though more of a peasant style than the assassin’s usual fit. Briefly he wondered if Lucanis ever owned anything white. Rook checked the mirror when he was done fitting everything to appraise himself. A black waist corset would finish off the look nicely, he thought. Though he doubted Lucanis had any lying around.

Once he was done, he came back out into the room to find Lucanis lounging on a dark purple chaise couch near the window. He had a cup of coffee in his hands and was staring serenely out the window. When he heard Rook’s footsteps, the assassin shifted his attention and nearly dropped his cup. He looked completely starstruck, seeing the mage in his own clothing, hair still a mess and clear love marks peeking out along the edges of his top.

“Lu…canis?” Rook raised an eyebrow as he approached the other man.

“Rook is beautiful.” Spite’s voice whispered in Rook’s ear, and the mage felt their arms wrap around him from behind. “Lucanis doesn’t believe. We deserve you.”

“Good morning, Spite.” Rook closed his eyes and smiled, imagining the spirit’s form behind him. “Well, deserve it or not you have me either way.”

“Come.” Lucanis opened his arms as an invitation, one which Rook gratefully accepted.

The mage took his spot between the assassin’s legs and rested his back against the other’s chest. He sighed contentedly as Lucanis handed him a mug of coffee and then draped his arm over the mage’s shoulders. Rook savored that first blissful sip, still warm, and relaxed even more into the man behind him.

Lucanis smiled and placed a soft kiss on Rook’s head. They were comfortable like that, quietly enjoying each other’s company and the warm bitterness of Antivan coffee. After a few minutes the Crow shifted to set his cup down on the side table next to him and grab the plate he’d set there. On it was an assortment of fruits, bread with butter and jam, and various other pastries. He took a strawberry and held it up to Rook’s mouth.

Smiling, Rook opened his mouth and let his Crow feed him. “Mmm… did you make all this yourself before I woke up?” He asked curiously.

“Like I said, you were out for a while.” Lucanis chuckled and picked out a piece of toast for himself.

“Want to feed Rook.” Spite pouted, sitting on the arm of the chaise with their arms folded across their chest.

“Are you even able to manipulate that much outside of the Fade?” Rook wondered. Spite was able to touch him because of his connection to Lucanis. There was no connection with a grape.

Spite grumbled and sulked as their answer.

“You’ll get a chance back in the Lighthouse, I’m sure.” Lucanis assured them and held up a churro for Rook, who happily took a bite with a satisfied sound.

They settled in again, Rook letting Lucanis feed him between sips of coffee. Spite watched them, now peeking out from behind the couch like a cat stalking its prey. Rook’s mind began to wander, and he tilted his head to Lucanis and questioned in a soft voice, “So… that means you’re staying on? Even though you’re the new First Talon?”

“Nothing in this world or the next will keep me from you now.” Lucanis answered easily. “Besides, we have a contract.”

“And Crows never break contracts.” Rook recited with a smirk.

“Precisely.” Lucanis took a few grapes off the plate for himself. “And anyway, she may have stepped down, but there’s no stopping Caterina from giving all the orders.” He paused, his gaze far off in thought. “I still cannot believe she did that…”

Rook shifted so he could more easily look into his assassin’s eyes. “How… are you doing? You know, with… everything?”

Lucanis sighed and focused his gaze back on Rook. “On one hand, I’ve never been happier in my life.” He took the mage’s hand in his own and brought it up to his lips to gently kiss his fingers. “On the other… fucking Illario.”

Rook could still taste Illario’s blood from when he bit off the man’s fingers. It didn’t taste nearly as good as Lucanis’, but he decided not to share that fact. “For what it’s worth… I’m still sorry it happened this way. I can’t even imagine that kind of betrayal…”

“I can’t believe how blind I was to his envy.” Lucanis sighed heavily. “When the Venatori caught me on the boat in Tevinter, it never even crossed my mind that he could be involved. He was everything to me. My brother, my only true friend, the only one I felt I could let down my mask and be myself around. I wasn’t the grandson of the First Talon or the Demon of Vyrantium… I was just Lucanis.”

Rook rested his head back against Lucanis’ chest to comfort him, which got a small smile out of the Crow. He wasn’t really sure what to say, what words would be enough to soothe this hurt, so he offered instead his closeness.

Lucanis was quiet for a while, contemplative and snacking idly. Eventually he handed the plate to Rook so he could go back to his coffee and have the comfort of that as well. “Enough about Illario and my own troubled mind. What about yours?”

Rook closed his eyes as yesterday’s events played through his head once again. “I… I could see everything my body was doing, but I couldn’t stop it. Like I was watching someone else’s memories. I was afraid I really was going to kill you…” He curled up a bit more into the Crow, who held his arm tight around the mage’s shoulder.

Lucanis planted a soft kiss in Rook’s hair. “Part of me wants to kill Illario just for putting you through that…” he admitted. “But you fought it off. You came back to me.”

“Not alone.” Rook opened his eyes and glanced up at the Crow. “Solas actually helped me. I felt him in my mind. He gave me the strength to resist… empowered my song with his.”

“The Dread Wolf can sing?” Lucanis asked, unable to hide an amused look.

“That music room in the Lighthouse was his, you know.” Rook replied with a slight smile of his own. “That’s not the first time he’s saved my life…”

Lucanis hummed in thought, “That may be so, but I still don’t trust him. You are his only link to the outside, so of course he’s going to make sure he can keep that link open.”

“Maybe…” Rook picked up a piece of toast covered in strawberry jam and took a bite. “He was a spirit, right? Maybe… maybe I can actually reach him. Make a connection and… I don’t know, change his mind.”

“That did not end well last time…” Lucanis reminded him grimly. “I don’t want you to risk your life for the chance of possibly redeeming the god of lies.”

“I know, but…” Rook frowned at his toast. “If you heard the way Inquisitor Lavellan talked about him, about their relationship… there was something real there. I don’t believe Solas is evil, I just… I think he’s so thoroughly trapped in his own regrets and loneliness that he can’t even perceive another way out.”

Lucanis threaded his fingers through Rook’s hair and began to gently massage his scalp. “Your empathy never ceases to amaze me, cariño.”

The mage leaned into the touch, his eyes closing in bliss. He had jam on the edge of his mouth, which gave Spite an idea. With a mischievous smirk, they moved in a flash and were kneeling in front of Rook. Leaning in, the demon licked that spot as if to taste the jam for himself, but his tongue passed right through it.

The mage let out a soft gasp at the sudden sensation, but recognized it immediately. His face flushed, meanwhile Lucanis was holding his breath. It wouldn’t do to get turned on now, and get delayed by…

The Crow cleared his throat, cutting off those thoughts before they got away from him. “Behave, Spite.”

The demon just chuckled. They laid their head in their hands, elbows resting on the chaise, and watched Rook try to calm himself down.

“I think we should lay some ground rules.” Rook said and shifted so he was sitting upright so he could look at Lucanis and… where he presumed Spite was.

Lucanis shifted as well so he could better pay attention. “Such as?”

“No distractions during missions or when around the others in the Lighthouse.” He looked pointedly towards Spite. Hopefully. “That means no teasing, touching, or dirty comments.”

Now Spite was pouting again. “No fun.”

“Rook is right.” Lucanis said as set down his cup. “You know as well as I do that distractions cause mistakes, and mistakes can cost lives.” His tone was serious, but then he shifted to a more playful one when he added, “As for the others, I’m sure they’d appreciate not being subjected to whatever that lewd mind of yours can come up with.”

“But…” Rook held up a finger. “When we’re alone, just the three of us together like this? Well, anything goes. Deal?”

“Anything?” Spite perked up at the word ‘deal’.

“As long as we are all enjoying it.” Lucanis clarified.

Spite hummed, then leaned in close to Rook. “Deal.” He breathed, their lips hovering just an inch above the mage’s. Rook caught on quickly, closing his eyes and parting his lips. The demon kissed him deeply, and he felt a shiver of power run through him. Spite then moved up to kiss Lucanis as well, which the assassin quickly accepted.

Deal struck and breakfast finished, the two stashed their blood-stained armors in their packs, ready to get back to the Lighthouse. Rook had taken a step towards the door, but then heard a window open behind him. He turned around to see Lucanis gesturing to the balcony outside. At the mage’s questioning look he said, “Would you rather risk Caterina seeing you in my clothing and have to answer embarrassing questions?”

“Rooftops it is.” Rook practically jogged over to join Lucanis, who just chuckled.

---

“So… does this mean you’re a werewolf?” Harding asked from her seat at the dining room table.

Rook was about to say no, but he then hesitated as he considered the implications. “Not… exactly. At least, not like any other recorded cases of lycanthropy I’ve read about.”

“A wolf that drinks blood…” Bellara mused, sitting across from Harding. “Like a werewolf vampire!”

“A Werepire?” Taash suggested, their chair pushed so close to Harding’s that they were practically on top of each other. “Vamp… wolf?”

Rook groaned and hid his face in his hands.

Harding’s eyes lit up as a memory hit her. “You know, I heard the Hero of Ferelden helped a pack of werewolves during the Fifth Blight. They were under some ancient curse, but he was able to help them break it.”

Their leader peeked out from behind his fingers. “...How?”

“I… don’t really know.” Harding admitted sheepishly. “I was just a kid when I heard the stories. I think I got the sanitized version.”

“Can you change at will?” Davrin asked curiously. He was sitting on the other side of Bellara with his next carving project and a whittling knife in his hands.

“I’m not sure. I haven’t tried it again yet.” Rook admitted, letting his hands fall back down to the table. “Honestly, I don’t even really know how I did it the first time.”

“Shapeshifting magic is rare, but not unheard of.” Emmrich chimed in. “Morrigan, for example, seems to be an expert at such spells.”

“I’ve never even attempted shapeshifting before.” Rook said with a shrug.

“Rook had pretty tails.” Was Spite’s contribution to the subject. Lucanis chuckled from the kitchen as he prepared dinner for the team.

“And you’re sure you can’t be controlled again?” Neve asked as she took her seat next to Emmrich. “If the Venatori still have your blood…”

“That is information I will get out of Illario. One way or another.” Lucanis promised.

Rook was relieved his team seemed to be taking all of this so well. He really couldn’t have asked for better allies. Better friends. They continued to talk and joke through dinner, and a renewed spark of hope flared in the mage. No matter what came next for them to face, he believed in the Veilguard.

Notes:

Translation:
“Buenos días, corazón.” // “Good morning, sweetheart.”

Chapter 21: Smells Like... Bitter and Sweet

Summary:

Lucanis visits Illario; Rook tries to surprise Lucanis

Lucanis steeled himself as he stepped through the Eluvian into the warm Treviso afternoon air. Rook was out with Taash and Harding in Rivain, so he decided it was a good time to pay his cousin a visit. Illario had information on Elgar’nan and the Venatori, and while he was certain the other Crows could get that information for him, he also had more personal questions he needed answers to.

Spite was sulking from both being away from Rook and about their current mission to see Illario. “Should have killed him.” The demon growled.

“He’s still family.” Lucanis replied as he made his way across the rooftops towards Villa Dellamorte. It was decided that keeping him locked up there would be the best way to keep an eye on him. “And besides, the humiliation of being brought down so thoroughly in front of every house? Sparing him was not a mercy.”

The Villa had been cleaned up since the night of Illario’s party, thankfully. Caterina was in a meeting with the other Talons, setting things up for his succession as First Talon. Luckily Lucanis didn’t need to be there for those meetings, he had his excuse of his contract with Rook to thank for that. That meant there was nothing to delay him from going to the interrogation rooms to find Illario.

Lucanis hesitated outside the door. Two other Crows were posted as guards, ready to lock the door behind him once he stepped inside. Taking a deep breath, he turned the handle. The room had no windows, just a small lantern hung in the middle that illuminated a single chair.

Illario had tipped the chair back so he was leaning against the wall, his legs crossed and hands held behind his head like he was casually waiting for Lucanis to return from a mission. As soon as the door was locked again, he stood with his arms outstretched. “Cousin! How good of you to visit. Can I get you anything?”

Lucanis kept his expression neutral. He had requested Illario not be restrained, so he wasn’t surprised to see him playing his usual games. However, the First Talon could now see the resentment that hid behind that easy smile. How had he not noticed it before? His eyes flickered to his cousin’s bandaged hand. Rook had taken his pointer and middle fingers, making it almost impossible for him to grip a blade with enough strength to wield it properly again. “How’s the hand?” Lucanis ended up asking in response.

Illario frowned and lowered his arms. “You really should put a muzzle on that thing. Rapid dogs are a real danger to their owners, you know.”

Lucanis scoffed and crossed his arms over his chest. “You are lucky he stopped at two fingers.”

“I would have. Taken. The entire hand.” Spite took over the assassin, eyes glowing purple and grin turning wicked. “One by one. Just to hear. The crunch. Of bones!”

There was a spark of actual fear in Illario and he took a step back, but Lucanis regained control and shook his head. “Not now, Spite.” He chastised quietly.

Illario regained his composure, his mask of confidence easily slipping back on. “How just like you, cousin. Even when a literal demon is living inside your head, you manage to come out on top.” Bitterness dripped from each word like venom.

“Is that what this is all about?” Lucanis watched his cousin with sorrowful eyes. He knew the answer, but had to hear it directly from his cousin. “Jealousy?”

“Of course that’s what this is about.” Illario spat, pushing the chair away and letting it clatter to the floor. “That’s what it’s always been about. You have always been the favorite. Always faster, always stronger. Meanwhile, I have always had to struggle just to stay in your shadow.”

“Illario–”

He jabbed a finger into Lucanis’ chest. “You could have stopped this. All you had to do was say you would refuse Caterina when she named you the First Talon. Yet you still stood in my way, all the while spouting about how much you didn’t want it.”

“I didn’t–”

“All you had to do was die, and all my problems would have been solved. I should have killed you myself instead of trusting that Venatori bitch to do a Crow’s job.”

Lucanis felt his heart shatter, and with it tears that fell gently down his cheeks. “Why did you not just talk to me about this?” He demanded, dropping his mask of indifference. “I loved you, Illario. You were not just my cousin, but my brother. I would have traveled to the ends of Thedas for you!”

“Don’t you dare look at me like that.” Illario turned his back to Lucanis, though the First Talon could see his hands shaking. He hesitated, trying to compose himself again before replying. “You think, after all Caterina beat into us, I would have shown such weakness? You were always so oblivious, it’s a wonder you made it this far as a Crow.”

Lucanis shook his head. “Illario…”

They stood in silence for a minute until Illario let out a bitter laugh. “I couldn’t do it…” He ran his hand through his already disheveled hair.

“Couldn’t do what?”

“Kill you.” He finally turned back around to face his cousin. “I couldn’t kill you myself. I thought of so many different ways I could do it, and you trusted me so completely it would have been easy. But I… I couldn’t do it. Just like I couldn’t kill Caterina to cover my tracks.”

Lucanis stayed quiet, watching his cousin carefully.

“That is why I had to make a deal with someone else to do it for me. I couldn’t go inside the Crows, so I went with the next best option. The Venatori already hated you, so I knew they would take my bait.” Illario looked exhausted, and not from being locked up and recovering from his injuries. This had been a burden on his shoulders for so long, and now he had nothing. “I had… no idea they would keep you alive…”

Spite had been circling the two the entire time, prowling the edges of the room and watching Illario like a hawk. “Smells like… pain and regret.”

Lucanis glanced at Spite briefly before addressing his cousin again. “But working with blood mage extremists? Illario, you had to know how stupid that was.”

“I thought I could handle them.” Illario insisted. “I wasn’t really going to hand Antiva over to the Vints on a silver platter. Once I got what I wanted, I would have turned on them, too.”

“They are working with a god, Illario. One that is trying to blight the entire world! There would be no Antiva to hand over.”

“I didn’t think they were serious about that!” Illario threw his hands up in the air.

Lucanis sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of his nose, “Por la sangre del Hacedor. You are impossible.”

“And you are so much better than me.” Illario was back to his bitter quips.

“That is not what I meant.”

“But it’s true, isn’t it? You have the title, you have the arm candy, you’re going to save the world and be hailed as the God-Killer instead of just the Mage-Killer.” Illario scoffed. “Just execute me and get it over with.”

“That is not going to happen.”

“And that is why you’re much crueler than me, cousin.” Illario glared at Lucanis, but the fire behind his eyes was cooled significantly. “Now, is that all? I have a very busy schedule, you know.”

Lucanis felt as exhausted as Illario looked. He had braced himself for this conversation, yet it hit him like a charging bronto all the same. “One last question. Do the Venatori have any more of mine or Rook’s blood?”

“You and your little boy toy are safe.” Illario waved a dismissive hand. “I wanted to be the only one who could control Rook, so I made sure that broach was the only bit of his blood left.”

A sigh of relief left Lucanis’ lips and he ran a hand through his hair. “...Good talk.”

“Anytime, cousin.”

---

By the time Lucanis made it back to the Lighthouse, he was ready to drink a whole pot of coffee. However, he had gotten something from that conversation he hadn’t expected–hope. Hope that Illario could still come around, that he wouldn’t have to lose his cousin after all. His actions were still unforgivable, but maybe… just maybe…

The Crow was distracted from his thoughts by the intoxicating aroma of chocolate, hazelnuts, and coffee as he entered the dining room. He spotted Emmrich and Rook by the table, standing over a decadent looking chocolate cake. The latter was, inexplicably, absolutely covered in flour.

“Are you sure this looks okay?” Rook frowned down at the cake and absently sucked chocolate frosting from his fingers. 

“It looks perfect, my dear.” Emmrich assured him, looking completely spotless in contrast.

“What is this?” Lucanis couldn’t help but smile, trying not to laugh as he looked over Rook.

The two other men looked up, and Rook’s face flushed under all that flour. “Lucanis!” He grabbed a towel and quickly wiped his face and hands clean. “We… I wanted to make you something, as a surprise, but I’ve never really baked anything before.”

“Rook asked if I could help,” Emmrich said, watching the two of them warmly, “and it just so happens my mother had an excellent recipe for a hazelnut torte she would make every Wintersend.”

“We added coffee.” Rook looked sheepish as he glanced down at his creation. He had frosted it himself, and each time he looked at it it just seemed more sloppy. The icing was thicker on one side than the other, and there were hazelnuts all over the table.

“I helped!” Manfred announced from the kitchen area, waving a spoon at Lucanis in greeting.

Lucanis stared at the cake in awe. This simple act of kindness was in such contrast to the energy from his conversation with Illario that he was stunned.

Rook looked worried when his Crow didn’t respond. “Oh no, do you not like hazelnuts? Does it look that bad? I knew I should have–”

Lucanis stopped Rook by pulling him in by his waist and kissing him with all the love in his heart. When they pulled apart the assassin was now also covered in flour. He smiled and pressed their foreheads together. “It’s perfect, mi amor.”

“Don’t say that until you try it.” Rook laughed. He stepped away from Lucanis with a smile to go serve the cake. It wasn’t quite time for dinner, but he figured one little treat wouldn’t hurt them.

“I’ll have to indulge with you later, I’m afraid.” Emmrich said as he gestured for Manfred to follow him. “It’s time for Manfred’s lessons, and punctuality is a big part of that.”

“Magic lessons!” Manfred dropped the spoon he was holding, causing Emmrich to sigh. The professor bid his farewells to the other men, and Rook suspected the real reason he left was to give him and Lucanis some privacy.

Lucanis sat down at the table, happily watching Rook while he got some plates for them. He even got an extra one for Spite, just so they would feel included. The demon in question was eyeing the cake curiously. They inhaled deeply. “Smells like... Rook and Lucanis.”

The Crow chuckled. “Chocolate and coffee? That sounds about right.”

Rook first poured them some coffee, leftover from what he’d used in the recipe. Then he began to carve small slices for each of them.

When a slice of the cake was placed at the empty spot next to Lucanis, Spite moved with it. They crouched by the table, fingers curled over the edge and eyes just barely peeking over it as they examined the dessert. “What. Is. It?”

“You’ve never seen a cake before?” Rook questioned as he handed a plate and fork to Lucanis.

“There weren’t many bakeries in the Ossuary.” Lucanis pointed out with a slight smirk.

“Rook. Made this?” Spite reached out and nudged the plate.

“I did. For you and Lucanis.” Rook smiled and looked at the assassin. “It’s a sort of… Congratulations-on-the-Promotion-Sorry-About-Your-Cousin cake?”

“An oddly specific celebration, to be sure.” Lucanis shook his head in amusement. Using his fork, he sliced off a piece of the cake in front of him and brought it to his mouth. It was dense, the icing was grainy, and the proportion of apricot jam to pastry was off… but it was delicious. “Mm… like I said, perfect.”

“You’re just saying that to spare my feelings.” Rook sighed dramatically. “I feel like I disrespected Emmrich’s mother’s memory with how this turned out.

“Nonsense.” Lucanis insisted. “It was made with love and passion. Though… perhaps I can give you some pointers for next time.” He teased.

Spite was watching the exchange, their eyes darting back and forth between the other two as they spoke. When they saw Rook lift the fork to his mouth, they sprang up from their spot. “I want. To feed Rook!”

Rook nearly dropped his fork in surprise from the outburst, but then he laughed. “Okay, you can have your turn now.”

“Yes!”

Lucanis shook his head in amusement. “Here, I’ll make it easy for you.” He closed his eyes and allowed the spirit to take over his body. Violet eyes greeted Rook when he opened them again.

Instantly Spite was on their feet, and they moved closer to Rook. They leaned over the mage’s chair with one hand holding the back of it and the other lightly tracing his jaw. Rook smiled at the touch, and the fact that Lucanis had let them take over without a second thought. The two had truly come a long way in their relationship. “My turn.” The demon purred.

Rook offered up his plate to Spite, who gingerly took the fork and picked up the piece that the mage was about to eat before. He opened his mouth for the demon, tongue poking out slightly in anticipation.

One look at Spite’s face told Rook how he must look in this position, causing his cheeks to burn. But he held still as the demon gently lowered the fork into his mouth. He closed his lips around the bite and shut his eyes. It wasn’t perfect like Lucanis insisted, but for a first time baker it wasn’t terrible. He hummed and smiled as he swallowed the dessert, opening his eyes to see Spite’s face even closer than before. “Rook likes it?” 

Rook nodded. “Do you want to try it?” Spite tilted their head in confusion, so the mage explained, “Since you’re in control of Lucanis’ body right now, you can feel what he feels, right? So this is your chance to experience something you couldn’t normally.”

Spite hummed, considering this, then grinned. “Only if Rook feeds me.”

The mage’s blush deepened, but he nodded. He took his fork back and cut off another piece of cake. “Here.” He said, holding it out to Spite.

The demon mimicked Rook, opening their mouth and sticking their tongue out in the same way he had before. The Watcher’s heart might have stopped at the sight of Lucanis like that, and he was glad they were alone in the dining room. Before he could lose his nerve, Rook fed them the cake. “Hm…” Spite hummed as he chewed, again mimicking what he’d observed the mortals do. When he swallowed his grin widened. “Taste. Is better than smelling.”

Rook laughed and set his plate down. “Yeah, I guess it is.”

The demon took Rook’s face in their free hand and leaned in even closer. “Rook tastes. Even better than cake.” They said with lidded eyes.

Rook’s heart fluttered and he closed the gap between them for a kiss. He could still taste the chocolate on the other’s tongue, and moaned softly into their mouth. Spite took that as an invitation to press even closer to the mage, sliding their fingers up through his hair and gripping it tightly.

The Crow was the one who broke the kiss, stepping back from Rook to catch his breath. “Let’s… not get carried away.” Lucanis said, though his eyes still lingered on the other’s lips. “Yet.”

All Rook could do was nod. He cleared his throat as Lucanis returned to his seat. “So… um, you went to see Illario today, didn’t you?” He asked to change the topic.

That shift was certainly enough to kill the mood. Lucanis sighed and rubbed his temples. “Yes… and it went as well as you might expect. I did get the information I wanted, however.” The assassin took his cup of coffee and let himself enjoy a long sip before continuing. “We don’t have to worry about the Venatori having our blood anymore.”

At first Rook was relieved, but then he frowned. “What if he’s lying?”

Lucanis shook his head. “Not this time. He has nothing left to lie for. If either of us die because of it, so would he. Not even Caterina could protect him from that.”

Rook nodded and picked up his own coffee. “How is she doing, by the way? Your grandmother?”

“You’ve met her. She was hewn out of dragonbone.” Lucanis answered, glancing down at his cup. “She’s pretending not to be upset by Illario’s betrayal…” he then glanced at Spite, who had reappeared beside Rook, “...and my possession. Which means she is making everyone else as miserable as possible.” He raised his cup to his lips again, then added, “except Teia. She likes Teia.”

“Can’t imagine how she really feels about me, then…” It was Rook’s turn to look down into his coffee.

“What she said at the party was how she felt.” Lucanis insisted. “Glad I finally brought someone home… even if he is also an abomination.”

“And… the other Talons? Are they okay with the whole… possession thing?”

“Probably not, but they prefer me to Illario or the Venatori.” Lucanis shrugged and swirled his coffee. “I suppose the Crows have had worse First Talons.”

“There’s no getting out of that then, huh? Being First Talon?” Rook’s face fell as he thought of the conversation he heard in Lucanis’ memories between him and Illario.

Lucanis didn’t answer right away. He frowned in thought, staring into his coffee like it would hold all the answers. “No… I don’t think there is. Ironically, all thanks to Illario’s actions.” He sighed and looked back up at Rook. “I never wanted leadership. I prefer to follow orders. Give me a target, and I’ll get the job done. That’s how I’ve always been.”

“I never wanted it either.” Rook admitted, “but then Solas happened, and Varric… and suddenly I was in charge of saving the world. I do it because I need to. Because no one else would have otherwise.”

Lucanis smiled at that and reached out to gently take Rook’s hand in his. “That is what I admire about you, Rook. You won’t stand idly by when you know there’s something you can do. If you can lead this team… perhaps I can lead the Crows.”

Rook returned the smile and laughed awkwardly at the praise. “Still… sometimes I wish I could go back to just being Lysandre, the Mourn Watcher singing to wisps in the Necropolis Gardens.”

“Lysandre?” Lucanis raised an eyebrow.

Rook looked surprised. “Did I… never tell you my real name?”

It was the assassin’s turn to look baffled. “Rook is not your real name?”

Rook’s face flushed and he bashfully scratched his head. “My actual name is Lysandre Ingellvar. Rook is actually the nickname Varric gave me, and it just kinda stuck. He said I tended to think in straight lines.”

Spite’s face scrunched in confusion. “Rook… is not Rook?”

“No, I am Rook.” The mage tried to explain. “I’m just… also Lysandre. Like… like how you are both Spite and Determination. Or how Manfred is also Curiosity. Sometimes, people have multiple names.”

Spite still looked like he was struggling with the concept.

“Lysandre…” Lucanis tried out the name, and it actually gave Rook goosebumps.

“I… like the way it sounds when you say it…” the mage admitted quietly.

That got Spite’s attention, and it was instantly leaning in to whisper it in Rook’s ear, “Lysandre…”

More goosebumps, causing the mage to shiver. “Y-yeah… like that.”

Lucanis chuckled. “Well, we’ll just have to save it for special occasions then.” Still smiling, he picked up his fork and took another bite of cake. He let his thoughts wander, letting them sit in comfortable silence while they ate. Well, while him and Rook ate and Spite played with Rook’s hair. Watching the two, the assassin decided to voice his thoughts. “I don’t know what I thought it’d be like.” He started, getting his mage’s attention. “Getting out of the Ossuary. Getting my life back.”

“You mean you didn’t spend all that time dreaming about having cake and coffee with your inner demon?” Rook teased, his fork still in his mouth.

Lucanis smirked and took Rook’s hand again to gently kiss his fingers. “And with you. But here we are. Whatever this is… I’ll take it.”

Notes:

I do so love family drama.

Also: whoops, I completely forgot to drop Rook's real name until just now. Pronounced: LYE-sander

Translation:
"Por la sangre del Hacedor." // "By the blood of the Maker."

Chapter 22: Smells Like... Shroud's Kiss and Veilfire

Summary:

Rook and Solas grow closer; Lucanis, Rook, and Spite have some fun in the Necropolis

Notes:

Happy New Year!

Have one more chapter of fluff and spice before we start the final act!

Rook opened his eyes to the familiar monochrome landscape of the Fade Prison. As usual, Solas was standing across the chasm from him, but this time… he seemed closer. The gap was narrower. Rook could probably jump it if he got a running start. That must have meant there was more trust between them, right? Obviously the Dread Wolf couldn’t be trusted completely, but… the idea of gaining his respect made Rook want to prove himself. He smiled, “I didn’t get a chance to thank you.”

“There’s a first for everything, it seems.” Solas said with a smirk, his eyebrow raised.

“Don’t be a dick about it.” Rook put a hand on his hip, but he kept his smile. He was starting to enjoy these jabs back and forth they did. “I don’t think I could have broken through that spell without your help. You saved my life… again.”

“As you are my only link to the outside world, it would do no good for you to die on me.” Solas teased, but then his expression shifted to one more sincere. “In truth, I had very little to do with your victory. You were the one who broke through it with your own unique magic. I simply gave you a nudge.”

“It was more than a nudge.” Rook insisted. “I found the strength in my voice because I felt your mana flowing into me. I didn’t even think that was possible.”

“A lot more was possible in the times before the Veil.” 

Rook’s smile faltered. “Solas…” he was about to argue, again, but this time he decided to take a different approach. “Would you tell me a bit more about what it was like? Before the Veil? What magic was like?”

The Dread Wolf seemed surprised by this line of questioning. “You wish to know what the world I’m fighting to restore truly was? To deem it worth the cost?”

“There has to be more to it than war and slavery for you to risk this much.”

Solas hesitated, eyes lost in thought as he considered the questions. “Imagine the Fade as being not a place one went to, but rather a state of nature like the wind. A world where imagination defines reality, where spirits are as common as trees or grass. Of course there would be dangers, but that could be said of the current world as well, could it not? A fast-flowing river can just as easily drown a careless child as it can carry a merchant’s goods or grind a miller’s flour.”

Rook listened in slight awe. The way the elf described it lit a spark of what almost felt like nostalgia in the mage. “That kind of sounds like the Necropolis, in a way. We welcome spirits with open arms, inviting them to take vessels and experience our world safely. We even have some among our ranks in the Watchers. Our duty is not just to the mortal dead, but also to the spirits who help keep their memories alive.”

Solas tilted his head. “Fascinating how your people accidentally grasped more of true ancient elven culture than the Dalish ever dreamed. I think I would have liked to have visited such a place.”

“Maybe I can give you the tour when this is all over.”

The Dread Wolf laughed softly, “Perhaps…” he regarded the mage, a twinkle of respect in his eyes. “You also asked about magic. Much the same as spirits, it was as natural as drinking water or breathing air. Some spells took years to cast. Echoes would linger for centuries, harmonizing with new magic in an unending symphony. It was… beautiful.”

“That sounds beautiful…” Rook admitted, then thought of the Liches who watched over the Necropolis for eternity. Was that what magic was to them, as well?

“So you see why I was horrified when I awoke to see the consequences of my mistakes from long ago.” Solas frowned. The air around them seemed to get heavier, like Rook could feel the Dread Wolf’s regrets bearing down on them. “I already destroyed the world once, Lysandre. I have to be the one to put it right again.”

“Even though it could cost millions of lives?”

“All wars cost lives, and yet civilization always survives to rise again from the ashes. It happened after the Evanuris were sealed, it happened after Arlathan fell, it will happen again.”

Rook looked away from Solas. That spark of nostalgia had flickered into disappointment. “I understand why you fight for your world, so I have to assume you know why I fight for mine. We’re the ones that rose from those ashes, Solas. This world is ours now, and we deserve a chance to live in it.”

The Dread Wolf’s expression was unreadable now, though Rook didn’t feel any shifting away from that respect he felt had risen between them. Instead, it had further solidified. “You and I are perhaps more similar than you’d like to believe.”

“Maybe… I can turn into a wolf now, so…” The Watcher shrugged with a small smirk.

Solas chuckled, “What is it they say? Mimicry is the ultimate form of flattery?”

“Hey, I’d have chosen a fox or big cat if I had my way.”

“Ah, yes. Nothing strikes fear into the hearts of men like the Dread Cat.”

---

“You have a strange definition of ‘romantic’.” Lucanis said as he and Rook passed two skeletons sweeping the stone bricks of the Vault of the Beloved.

“Just wait until we get there, trust me.” Rook grinned and waved to a group of fellow Necromancers tending the candle memorials in the hall. “You’ve given me the tour of Treviso, now I want to show you my home. At least… the safest part of it. Relatively.”

Lucanis let out a doubtful hum, but he wasn’t going to bring down Rook’s mood. This was important to him, so a little bit of discomfort was worth the sparkle in the mage’s eyes. He followed Rook down the hallway until they came to a set of stairs descending to another door.

“Hopefully it’s still here…” The mage mumbled to himself.

“What do you mean ‘hopefully’?” Lucanis asked, an eyebrow raised.

“Well, the Necropolis likes to rearrange itself sometimes. The Gardens should technically be higher up, more accessible to the public. Sometimes I think it’s just having fun with us.”

“You speak as though this place is alive.” Lucanis glanced around them again nervously.

“Well…” Rook paused before he pushed open the doors. “I mean… technically –”

“I’m going to stop you there.” The assassin interrupted.

The mage laughed. “Maybe this will change your mind about the place.” He grinned and opened the doors for them to step inside. The serenity that blew through the Gardens like wind never failed to take his breath away. Flowers and gravestones stretched out before them, while spirits slowly drifted over the paths. A wisp circled Rook in greeting, letting out a soft chime. “Hello, there!” The mage greeted with a small laugh.

Spite watched the wisp as it then circled Lucanis and then themselves. “The Veil is thin here, but… quiet. Not like the rifts. Tearing. Ripping. Dragging unwillingly away from home…” 

“We try our best to keep this place a safe haven for the living, the dead, and for spirits.” Rook looked back at Lucanis to gauge his reaction to it all.

The assassin didn’t know what he had expected, but it certainly wasn’t a place so full of… life. If he didn’t look up, he could imagine they were taking a late night stroll through some noble’s private garden. Plus or minus a few skeletons. “It’s… beautiful.”

“Told you.” Rook grinned and took the Crow’s hand to lead him further into the garden. “This was my favorite place to come and study. I could stay in here for days and not realize it.”

As Lucanis took in the flowers along the path they walked, he realized something and turned to look at Rook. “These flowers… they were the inspirations for your tattoos?”

Rook nodded. “There’s just something about the idea of flowers blooming around bones, life coiling around and embracing death… preserving the memory of who they belonged to forever.”

Watching the mage speak about his passions filled the assassin’s heart with even greater affection for him. “I have never considered death a beautiful thing.” He admitted. “It was simply a part of my life. My work. Yet here… it almost feels like a different world.”

“I suppose it is, in a way.” Rook agreed as they continued to walk slowly, hand in hand. “Though sometimes I wonder… no, nevermind.”

“What’s on your mind, cariño?”

“I used to wonder if what we’re doing is actually right. The Chantry says our souls return to the Maker when we die, but here we are as Necromancers trying to keep as much of them here as we can. Even if all we preserve are echoes, memories that spirits latch onto and recreate… I used to wonder if we were hindering the dead’s ability to actually move on.” Rook watched a spirit, veiled in mist and holding a candle, glide its way through the headstones beside them.

“Used to?” Lucanis prompted, gently squeezing Rook’s hand in comfort.

The mage turned back to him. “Well, what we learned from Solas’ memories kind of puts a wrinkle in the whole thing, doesn’t it? Not that I ever thought the Chant of Light was one hundred percent true, especially after all this time and the myriad of Chantry leaders changing it to fit their views… I guess I’m kind of relieved. I don’t need to add one more god to the list of powerful beings whose toes I’ve stepped on.”

“Stepping on the toes of gods is something you are quite good at.” Lucanis teased.

Rook laughed. “I just hope our next mission after this isn’t ‘actually the Maker is an ancient being from another world sent here to cultivate us as a sacrifice, better go kill him before that happens’.”

“Even if it is…” Lucanis stopped and pulled Rook into his arms. “I will be right by your side with a dagger at the ready.”

Rook’s heart fluttered in giddy excitement as he leaned into his Crow, one arm resting against Lucanis’ chest and the other tracing the hem of his vest. “We’re going to run out of gods.”

Lucanis leaned in close, eyes lidded and voice low. “Then I shall just have to worship you,” he said as their lips met in a tender kiss.

Rook’s eyes closed as he eagerly returned the kiss, clutching desperately at Lucanis’ shirt as desire swirled inside him. Spite’s wings encircled them, cutting them off from the world outside. The Crow’s hands slid down Rook’s body before reaching around to cup his ass. The mage broke the kiss for air and breathed against his assassin’s skin, “Lucanis… maybe we shouldn’t… here…?”

Spite answered that, appearing behind Rook and snaking their arms around the mage. “Won’t get caught.” They nipped at his ear. “ Unless. Rook wants to be caught.”

Rook’s face burned as a wave of excitement shot through him. “I-I don’t… that’s not…” he couldn’t form words as both Spite and Lucanis claimed different sides of his neck. Instinctively he pressed himself more against the assassin with a low moan. He hadn’t planned on things escalating while they were in the gardens, but… well, there wasn’t anyone else there. Save for the spirits, but they wouldn’t judge. 

He gave in and closed his eyes as Spite’s fingers slipped underneath his clothes. “Lysandre has a dirty mind.” the demon teased as his fingertips brushed lightly across the mage’s folds.

“Y-you’re one to talk.” Rook gasped as it was Lucanis’ turn to nip at his skin. His legs spread apart just enough to allow Spite’s fingers to dip inside and play with his engorging clit. “Andraste’s tits…”

Lucanis chuckled and stepped away just enough so he could watch what Spite was doing to their lover. “What was it you said about life surrounding death? I cannot think of a better way to express that sentiment than this, can you?”

Spite pinched the sensitive nerve and rolled it in their fingers, causing Rook’s knees to nearly buckle under him. “F-fuck…” the mage muttered through staggered breaths.

Lucanis pressed himself into Rook again, lips to lips and chest to chest as the assassin guided the mage backwards. Spite’s form temporarily vanished, earning a disappointed whimper from Rook, but he followed Lucanis’ lead without breaking their kiss. Soon he felt his back hit the cool, smooth stone of a large monument. Briefly he glanced up to see where they were. Soft white flowers wound their way around the skulls and candles, reaching up over the stone to the top of the monument where two skeletons held each other in an eternal embrace. Fitting.

Clothing couldn’t come off fast enough. There was no teasing this time, only the burning need to feel the other’s bare skin against their own. As soon as the last stitch of fabric hit the ground, they were on each other again. Rook’s hands tangled in Lucanis’ hair, and the assassin pushed him back against the cold stone. The mage’s back arched against the sensation, causing him to grind their hips together with a soft moan.

Spite was behind Lucanis now, its nails dragging slowly down the Crow’s back and making him grind back against Rook. The demon then drew its tongue over the fresh red marks it had made.

Lucanis was ready to take Rook right then and there, but the mage had another idea. He broke the kiss and pushed the assassin back to look into his lust-filled eyes. “Now it’s my turn to please you.” The mage smirked and lowered to his knees in the grass.

The Crow held his breath as he watched Rook take his growing erection in his hands and begin to stroke him to full arousal. Lucanis had to keep himself steady with one hand against the stone monument as he watched the mage lean in and take the tip into his mouth, letting his tongue swirl around it before slowly taking in more. A low moan was drawn out of him at the sight.

Not to be left out of the fun, Spite’s hands slid up Lucanis’ sides and up his front until its fingers found the assassin’s nipples. It pinched and squeezed them until they were fully erect as well.

Rook couldn’t see what Spite was doing, but he could hear the results. Lucanis’ breathing hitched and his nails dug into the stone in front of him. “F-fuck, Spite… Lysandre…” His other hand tangled in Rook’s hair, guiding him into the pace he wanted.

Hearing his name in this context made Rook moan around the cock in his mouth. He bobbed his head and swirled his tongue, making sure he tasted every inch of what Lucanis had to offer. What he hadn’t expected was the feeling of Spite’s long, cool tongue lap at his folds from underneath him. He gasped and adjusted his stance, spreading his legs for the demon.

Spite had moved so it was laying beneath the two of them, briefly watching Rook work with hungry eyes. Using Rook’s legs as leverage, the demon raised its head to bury its face between the mage’s already slick thighs. Its tongue teased each sensitive nerve before diving deep inside of Rook.

The Watcher moaned loudly and eagerly thrust his hips against Spite’s generous cunnilingus. He could feel his first orgasm coming, and he groaned around Lucanis’ cock as it hit him. The jolts of pleasure drew out his desire for more.

Lucanis had to push Lysandre off of him before he also succumbed to his pleasure. The mage’s lips released him with a pop, and he looked up at the assassin with a dreamy expression. “Mierda, Rook…” Was all he could say as he pulled his lover up from his knees and into another passionate kiss. With very little effort Lucanis lifted Rook by his thighs and held him firmly against the stone. Rook’s legs wound around the Crow and his arms draped over his shoulders.

The assassin’s eyes were violet now as Spite took over his body. “Want to. Fuck. Rook.” Spite spoke slowly, its voice practically a growl. “Fuck. Lysandre.”

“Please do.” The mage begged. He moaned as Spite leaned in and took his nipple in its teeth teasingly. “Fuck me, Spite.”

The demon needed no more encouragement. It aligned itself with Rook’s slick opening and pushed fully inside with one thrust. Rook gasped and moaned much louder than he’d wanted, his voice echoing through the Gardens. Spite wasn’t as gentle as Lucanis, but the mage liked that. He liked there was a difference between them that reflected who they were so perfectly. He liked that he was trapped against the stone monument as Spite pounded into him, letting gravity pull them as close as physically possible.

Rook gripped Lucanis’ shoulders so tight his knuckles were turning white. With each thrust he felt that swirling hunger grow inside him even more, and as he leaned in to plant kisses on his lover’s neck he realized he could smell the blood pulsing through his veins. “Spite… Lucanis… can I…? May I…?” He breathed out between thrusts.

“Take what you need.” Spite whispered in Rook’s ear.

With that permission, Rook’s claws and fangs extended. Now with his talons buried deep enough into his assassin’s shoulder to draw blood, he bit down hard at the base of his neck. A hiss of pain, and then a mix of Spite’s and Lucanis’ voices moaned loudly in pleasure. Their pace quickened, frantically bouncing Rook on their cock.

Lucanis came first, filling the mage completely with slow, hard thrusts. The feeling of it combined with the blood that filled Rook’s mouth sent him over the edge not long after. He rolled his hips, milking the assassin for all he had.

Eventually Rook let go, raising his lips from Lucanis’ shoulder and lapping up the blood that remained on his skin. The Crow fell to his knees after that, still holding Rook tight in his arms. They sat like that in silence while they both came down from their highs.

It was Rook who broke the silence with a laugh. It was light and giddy, made of pure bliss. “Emmrich would faint if he knew we did this here.”

“Did you want to invite him next time?” Lucanis teased, his smile matching Rook’s completely.

The mage’s face turned bright red. “I-I… that’s…” he couldn’t tell if Lucanis was serious, but more alarmingly he wasn’t opposed to the images that flashed in his mind from the idea.

“I’m kidding.” Lucanis chuckled and brought him in for another kiss, then added with a mischievous glint. “...Mostly.”

Spite purred in a way that suggested they wouldn’t be opposed to it either, which didn’t help Rook’s blush.

“Shut up.” Rook pulled Lucanis in for yet another kiss as the assassin just chuckled. Neither noticed the audience of wisps they had gathered around them.

Chapter 23: Smells Like... Blight and Sacrifice

Summary:

It's time to face Ghilan'nain, but at what cost?

They were supposed to have weeks to prepare.

Then Elgar’nan blocked out the sun.

The team scrambled to get ready–sharpening weapons, donning armor, packing potions. Rook had gotten a pep talk from Varric, but he still found himself pacing in his room. He needed to pull himself together to appear the fearless and overconfident leader they needed. Why hadn’t he seen something like this coming? Was he really so distracted by Lucanis and Spite? Should they have waited before actually becoming a couple?

Rook’s gut ached, giving him Voracity’s answer at least. No, they both needed each other. And they were stronger together. With a deep breath the mage left his room to go find Lucanis.

The Crow checked and double checked that all of his knives were sharp and secure. Spite was quiet for once. They both understood how crucial this next mission was. The door to the pantry opened, and Lucanis turned to see Rook step inside. He wanted to smile, wanted to take his partner into his arms and hold him close, but instead he looked back down at his last knife. Their knife, the Wyvern-Tooth Dagger.

“How are the knives coming?” Rook asked with a smile as he stepped towards the assassin, ever a ray of sunshine to drive away Lucanis’ dark clouds.

But the Crow kept his head down. “Lysandre… this isn’t going to work.”

“We’re going to make it work.”

Lucanis looked up now. “They moved a moon. ” He gestured towards the wall as if they could see it through the nonexistent window. “We’re in over our heads. That’s not magic you can fight with a blade! You’re putting your life in our hands. My hands.” His anxiety showed clearly in his eyes, something Rook didn’t see often. They were both afraid to lose each other.

“Lucanis…” Rook took both of Lucanis’ hands in his. “We can do this. Our team is ready. We are ready.”

“Optimism is your best and worst quality.” The Crow glanced up at Rook with a small smile, but it faded quickly. “I don’t save lives, I take them. All I know is death.”

“And Taash knows dragons, and Davrin knows darkspawn. And I know I’ve chosen the man we need.” Rook leaned in and pressed their foreheads together, briefly closing his eyes.

“You do like to walk close to the edge.” Lucanis teased. He took comfort in having Rook so close, like just his presence would soothe his troubled thoughts. “If I have to kill every blighted creature in Thedas to keep you safe, I will.”

“We protect Rook.” Spite joined them, resting its hands on top of theirs. “Always.” It pressed its head against theirs as well, completing their circle.

“You’re not the only ones who can do the protecting, you know.” Rook gave a soft smirk. “If they touch you, they’re going to wish they had never left that prison.”

“What would I do without you?”

“We’ll never have to find out.” The mage squeezed his hands, and in return Lucanis brought them up to his lips to gently kiss his fingers.

“I’ll finish this. For you. For us. I won’t miss this time.”

---

When they reached Tearstone Island, they found the entire goddamn Antaam army gathered there waiting for them just as Morrigan said. They divided into two teams: Rook’s team would climb up the ruins to reach the gods and stop them from finishing their dagger, while Harding’s team would scout out the army camps and keep them distracted.

Lucanis, Bellara, and Davrin joined Rook as they scaled the cliffs and fought off scattered Antaam patrols. Elgar’nan tried to intimidate Rook by speaking into his mind, but the mage shook it off. The higher up they went, the more blight, darkspawn, and Fade tears they encountered.

They managed to regroup, but then they quickly found another obstacle blocking their path. Blood magic wards. Rook was ready to break them like he had the chains in Lucanis’ mind, but Bellara stopped him.

“No! That’s way too dangerous, Rook!” Bellara had grabbed his arm to stop him from getting any closer.

“One touch could kill.” Neve warned. She frowned as she scanned over the wards to try and find a weakness.

“Any other ideas?” Rook looked between the two other mages.

“Patterns are familiar…” Bellara took a step away from Rook to examine the wards for herself, careful not to get too close. “If I can fracture the harmonics, we could get through. Maybe.”

“I deal with blood magic.” Neve injected. “I can stop the damage long enough to burn out the wards.”

“That’s risky, Neve. Really risky.” Bellara looked to her friend with worried eyes. “I can’t ask you to do that.”

“Your way’s just as dangerous, Bel.” Neve responded in a softer tone, one she often had when around the elf.

Rook glanced between them, realizing this was his call. He looked at the wards himself as he tried to decide what the best course of action would be. With a nod he came to a conclusion and turned to Bellara. “This is your territory, Bellara. Just go slow.”

“I’ll be careful.” She promised and walked over to start her work on the wards.

They had a moment to catch their breath, and Rook took his chance to step away from the group and collect himself. So far things had gone smoothly, but they were far from over. A firm hand on his shoulder broke the Watcher out of his thoughts, and he turned to see Lucanis had joined him. Rook smiled, but didn’t say anything. They didn’t need to speak to find their strength in each other. Rook leaned forward to rest his head against the Crow's for comfort.

By the time the two rejoined the group, Bellara had nearly finished. She hummed as she worked, until finally the barrier blocking their way dissipated in a flash of green light. “And there!” Bellara sighed in relief and turned to Rook with a bright smile.

“Great work.” Rook returned the smile and stepped forward to continue on.

“Thanks!” Her smile faltered and she quickly grabbed Rook’s arm to stop him. “Be careful! The gods might know we’re here now.”

Rook opened his mouth to respond, but was hit by a wave of pain as Elgar’nan spoke in his mind once again. “That is a certainty.”

A blighted root snaked out of the Eluvian Rook hadn’t noticed sitting behind Bellara, and his eyes widened. “Bellara, move!” he tried to warn her, but it was too late. The root coiled itself around her body and yanked her back into it as she screamed. “Bellara!” Rook sprang forward instantly to follow her, but Davrin grabbed his arm to stop him as Elgar’nan’s silhouette formed on the mirror’s surface.

Arrogance and superiority oozed from the god’s voice as he spoke. “The Elvhen are a scattered people, but fret not: I shall bring your mage gently back into our fold.”

Rook broke free from Davrin’s hold with a snarl as he drew out his claws and ran at the mirror, but it shattered just before he could reach it. He quickly covered his face to protect himself from the sharp glass.

“You can all be forgiven by embracing the wisdom of surrender.” Elgar’nan offered as if he was the benevolent and merciful god he thought himself to be. “Continue, and even the Dread Wolf will regret what I do to his pawn.”

Rook growled, baring his fangs at the broken mirror. “Come on!” He ordered his team to follow as he ran through the now open doorway. If they were quick enough, they could still have time to save her.

---

Lucanis clutched Solas’ dagger tight in his hands as he moved with Harding and Taash around the shadowy cliffs to get to the ritual site. He had to trust that Davrin, Neve, and Emmrich could keep Rook safe as they took the main path and drew Ghilan’nain’s attention. Spite was on edge. It could feel the goddess hunting them, and being apart from Rook only made it more agitated. Even so, the demon was focused. Determined. They would kill Ghilan’nain this time.

The trio moved silently in contrast to the sounds of battle they heard from the direction of Rook’s team. The glow of blight and shrieks of darkspawn told them exactly what they were facing, and the flashes of ice and necrotic energy told them they were winning.

“There she is!” Harding announced as she drew her bow. They had rounded another cliff face in time to see the goddess’ disgusting tentacles cutting through the fog.

“The Child of the Stone.” Ghilan’nain’s voice echoed around them, making it difficult to discern where exactly she was. Lucanis risked summoning Spite’s wings so he could get a view from the air.

“Get around her so we–” Harding’s voice was cut off with a gasp, and the assassin spun back around midair to see what had happened.

“Lace!” Taash charged forward, but was ambushed by Blight roots. They carved through several of them with their axes, but they were ultimately overwhelmed and dragged away with a snarl.

Lucanis had let himself get distracted. A fatal mistake for a Crow. He didn’t see when more blighted roots shot up from below and wrapped around his ankle. They dragged him down hard and fast, and he just managed to raise his arms to keep his head from cracking against the ground as he was slammed into it. He grunted in pain, gritting his teeth to keep from shouting, but he had managed to keep hold of the dagger. There wasn’t any time for him to recover, however, as he was entangled by even more roots that twisted around his body and even covered his mouth.

“No!” Spite shouted in Lucanis’ head and took over his body to try to break free, but not even the demon’s strength was enough to overpower their bindings. Their wings were pinned painfully to their back, and the more they struggled the tighter the hold became. The fall had left Lucanis dazed as he felt himself be dragged away. He thought he heard Rook’s voice shouting, but it was hard to concentrate. The world went black.

For a moment he thought this was it. He had failed his contract, failed his team, failed Rook. Again . 

“...Lucanis!” Spite’s voice called through the fog in the assassin’s mind. “Lucanis! Wake up! Rook. Needs. Us! Now!”

“Lucanis! I’ve got you!” Rook’s voice snapped the Crow back to reality.

Lucanis opened his eyes to see his lover slicing through the Blight roots to free him. He also saw Ghilan’nain sending another root to grab Rook. Mouth still covered, Lucanis couldn’t warn him in time. Just as the assassin was freed from his bonds, Rook was dragged back by his ankle towards the blighted god. With Spite’s help Lucanis was on his feet in an instant, eyes locked onto his target.

Ghilan’nain lifted Rook up by his ankle and held him dangling in front of her. He struggled, claws extended, trying to reach the roots that gripped him. “Behold your current age!” The god said as she watched the mage flail in vain. “Fragile. Aimless. Lost!”

Lucanis could almost grin as he flew up to the top of a crumbled pillar beside Ghilan’nain. So like a god to start monologuing instead of delivering the final blow. It gave him time to get his aim right. He noticed Harding climbing the pillar behind the blighted goddess, ready with her bow to give him cover.

“We are the only beings in this world who can cleanse and tame the blight.” Ghilan’nain continued, “Use it to rebuild the old glories. You’ve done naught but destroy them. ”

Rook knew what to do. If he kept her talking he would give his teammates the opportunity they needed. “You and Elgar’nan are trapped by the past just like Solas. You had your chance! Each one of you!” He growled as his eyes glowed gold. “And we don’t owe you a thing.”

Lucanis saw his opening. His grip on the dagger tightened and he sprung up from his perch, Spite’s wings launching him forward, but Ghilan’nain heard him and turned in an instant. With a wave of her hand Lucanis was once again ensnared and slammed back against the pillar. He grunted in pain and struggled to free his arms, but again found he couldn’t.

This wasn’t how this was going to end. Lucanis had something to live for now, someone. There was a future with Rook waiting for him, and a gift he still needed to give. Rook’s eyes met the Crow’s, and it was clear they were thinking the same thing. Ghilan’nain’s attention was back to Rook, and he turned his gaze back to her and snarled. “This. Is. Our. World! Not. Yours!”

“Whatever it takes…” Lucanis heard Harding and his attention moved to her. She aimed her bow at the god’s neck and fired. At this range the arrow sunk deep into her flesh, and she cried out in rage. Harding fired again as Ghilan’nain turned towards her, and the arrow pierced just below her neck.

Rook was forgotten, and he managed to twist himself free and fall to the ground. Gold energy shimmered around his form as he shifted into a wolf to catch his fall. Four glowing eyes stared in shock as he watched the blighted god pierce Harding’s side with her tentacle and raised her up into the air. The dwarf ignored the pain and fired another arrow, even as she was pierced a second time.

“Lace!” Taash’s voice echoed through the ruins.

“Harding!” Rook’s voice, mixed with Voracity’s, cried out as he leapt up and climbed the lashing appendages. He sunk his claws deep into Ghilan’nain’s back and clamped his jaws around her neck, but it wasn’t enough. Harding fell. She lost the grip on her bow, the life fading from her eyes even before she hit the pool of blight below her.

Rage flowed through the assassin and gave him the strength to break through the loosened grip the blighted roots had on him. As Ghilan’nain turned, attempting to shake Rook off of her, Lucanis closed the distance between them and sunk the lyrium dagger deep into her chest. She let out a satisfying shriek of pain.

The two men were shaken off as she thrashed and flailed, her wound glowing and bubbling like acid. Rook hit the ground hard, and his form shimmered as he returned to normal. Lucanis landed next to him with Spite’s help and knelt down beside him to help him to his feet.

“Ghilan’nain!” Elgar’nan abandoned the ritual to go to his sister’s side as she writhed on the ground. “No…”

“We had… such plans. Elgar’nan…” The goddess’ voice was filled with such sorrow, Rook could almost feel bad for what they had to do. Almost. She breathed her final breath, and collapsed onto the ground.

Solas’ dagger vibrated with power as it kicked up a magical storm around them. Elgar’nan tried to get closer, but even he was held off by the power. “You…” he glared at Rook and Lucanis, pointing his unfinished red lyrium dagger in their direction, but the dagger wasn’t reacting well to the magic. It looked like it would crumble if exposed any longer, so the god pulled it back. “You will regret this.” He promised as he backed away from them. As he turned, he vanished in a flash of magical lightning.

But it wasn’t over yet. A pulse of raw magic shot out from the dagger, pushing Lucanis away from Rook and into a pillar behind them. Rook sunk his claws into the ground to keep himself from also being knocked back. Emmrich shouted over the roar of magic, “The dagger! Rook, you must break its contact with Ghilan’nain!”

Lucanis pushed himself up using the pillar as support, one hand shielding his face from the magical wind. He watched as Rook struggled to move forward towards Ghilan’nain. Heart racing, he took a step forward as well. He should be by Rook’s side when he stands triumphant over the dead goddess.

But something went wrong.

As soon as Rook touched the dagger, there was a flash of blinding light as another even more powerful surge of magic blasted everyone back. Spite’s wings sprung out and shielded Lucanis from the blast, keeping them on their feet. When the purple feathers cleared from his vision, the assassin didn’t see Rook standing above Ghilan’nain… he saw Solas. A rift closed behind him, and the lyrium dagger was in his hand.

“Where. Is. Rook?” Spite took over and growled in rage as they lunged at the elf, who merely held up a hand and summoned a barrier that blocked the demon from reaching him.

“I am sorry.” Solas stated, having the audacity to sound genuine. “It is what must be done.”

“No! Give. Him. Back!” Spite clawed at the barrier, taking out every knife Lucanis had to try and put even a dent in the magic.

“You did well.” The elf continued, watching the display with remorseful eyes, “but your part is finished. It will not replace what I have taken from you, but at the very least you deserve your life in return.” 

“Lysandre!” Spite and Lucanis cried out together as Solas burst the barrier and sent them flying back. They hit the wall hard, and their vision faded into black.

Notes:

And so we've reached the beginning of the end. I hope I was able to make the in-game parts interesting.

Thank you for sticking with me this far! All the positive reception truly means the world to me. Here's to finishing strong!

Chapter 24: Smells Like... Fear and Regrets

Summary:

Rook is trapped in the Fade Prison; Lucanis and Spite must face the possibility of never seeing Rook again

Notes:

Sleep? Who needs sleep? I've got chapters to write!

Taash had rampaged through their room, nearly setting the whole Lighthouse ablaze until they finally broke down and sobbed into their hands. First they lost their mother, then they lost their lover, and finally their best friend. Rook, who had helped them figure out all that gender stuff by sharing his own experiences. Rook, who showed them how to be themselves and be proud of who they were. Rook, who helped them and Harding realize their feelings for each other and nudged them together. Harding had accepted and loved them for who they were, and then she went and sacrificed herself for their cause. It was all too much.

Lucanis, by contrast, was numb. He sat at the meeting table in the central chamber of the Lighthouse, staring at nothing. Someone had brought him coffee, but he didn’t touch it. This wasn’t happening. Couldn’t be happening. He was dreaming, and would wake up to Rook in his arms right where he should have been. To accept any other reality would break the Crow.

He barely registered the hand on his shoulder. “Lucanis…” Emmrich spoke softly, sounding like he, too, was holding back tears. “I am… so terribly sorry, my dear.”

That did it. A heavy sob escaped the assassin’s lips as he buried his face in his hands. With Caterina he could immediately focus on his next contract, keep his mind occupied so he didn’t have to deal with these feelings. But this? It felt like his heart had been ripped out of his chest and stabbed with that damned lyrium dagger. It was too much to push away, and Spite was feeling the same grief.

But Spite reacted much like Taash. With anger. They tore books off shelves and hurled them across the room in frustration. One even knocked a vase over and it shattered into pieces across the floor. They howled with such intensity that even the other residents of the Lighthouse who couldn’t normally hear them, heard them.

Neve glanced at the empty space on the couch next to her, where Harding should have been. Her expression was cold, serious. “We need to plan our next move.” She said, looking around at the remainder of their team. “Get eyes on Solas and find out where he’s going.”

“And we still have Elgar’nan to deal with.” Davrin pointed out. He gently stroked Assan’s feathers as the griffon rested his head sadly across the elf’s lap. His wings drooped, and his tail was curled around his legs. 

“Solas’ first priority will be to stop Elgar’nan himself, of that I am sure.” Emmrich said. He left his hand on Lucanis’ shoulder for comfort. “And when he does, he will bring the Veil down with him.”

“We’re going to kill him before he even gets a chance.” Taash walked slowly down the stairs to join the group, an axe still in their hand. Dried tears stained their face, but now all they had was a determined rage. “For Harding.”

“For Lysandre…” Lucanis raised his head from his hands and balled them into fists. “I will tear that wolf’s throat out myself.” His eyes flashed violet, showing Spite’s agreement.

---

For a long time, or perhaps very little, darkness was all that surrounded Rook. Darkness and echoed voices of every doubt he’d ever had. How many lives had been lost because of his choices? How many died because he wasn’t good enough? Wasn’t fast enough?

“That dragon razed Minrathous. Where were you?” Neve’s voice cut through the void like a shard of ice, and he found himself lying on the dusty, crumbling floor of the Shadow Dragon base. Unsure of how he got there, he pushed himself up with a groan. His whole body ached, but he stood up anyway. Through the gaping hole in the side of the building where the Eluvian should have been, he saw the city burning.

“I… Treviso…” Rook tried to speak, but he found it hard to breathe. Smoke had surrounded him and he realized flames had begun erupting from the ground around him. Covering his face with his arm, he ran towards the exit. He tried to summon his magic–his staff, his dagger, anything–but his mana had run dry.

Coughing, he burst through the doors out of the shop that hid the Shadow Dragon hideout, but instead of relief he only felt horror. Bodies. Hundreds of them. Hanging from every corner, swaying lifelessly in the wind. He recognized them… the Shadow Dragons. Lorelei, the elven shopkeeper originally from Denerim. Bren, her Qunari assistant. More faces Rook knew, but couldn’t place their names.

“This was your fault.” Neve’s voice accused him, but he couldn’t see her. “You abandoned my city. Served it up to the Venatori on a silver platter just so you could play house with a Crow.”

“No! It wasn’t like that!” Rook spun around, but everywhere he turned there were just more corpses. He ran, needing to get away from there. More and more bodies littered the streets the farther in he got. Some burned to a crisp by the dragon, some blighted still groaning, some clearly cut down by Venatori blade.

As he turned a corner he was met by more bodies he knew. The Viper and Tarquin, hung back to back with blood dripping down their faces. Meavaris slumped against a wall, her throat cut by a jagged blade. Dorian Pavus, friend of the Inquisitor and ready ally to the Veilguard, impaled by a shard of red lyrium and left dangling above them all as the final sacrifice.

“I…” Rook’s body trembled as he took a step back. In the back of his mind he couldn’t escape the doubts that echoed there. She was right… wasn’t she? “No, this… this isn’t real!” He took another step back, and felt a tug inside him telling him to run. So he turned on his heels and ran. He ran through the sea of corpses, all now reaching out to him as if pleading for help. The ground under his feet began to shift from stone to dirt, and as he turned a corner he was met by walls of undulating blight.

“You set the gods free.” Strife’s voice made the mage turn to see the leader of the Veil Jumpers standing behind him, his skin covered in blight boils. Dark lines of sickness creeped out from his eyes, blending with his vallaslin. “You brought the Blight here. Because of you, everyone in D’Meta’s Crossing lost their lives.”

“No, that wasn’t…” It wasn’t his fault. The Mayor was the one who sold out his own town. But then… that temptation wouldn’t have been there had Rook not interrupted that ritual and let the gods escape. He backed away from Strife, only to hit something else. He spun around to see Irelin, just as blighted as the other elf. Her eyes were milky, dark tendrils swirling inside them to match the blighted lines across the rest of her body.

“Not just D’Meta’s Crossing.” Irelin said, “You brought the Blight to the entire world. The South was reduced to nothing but ashes because of your actions. Ferelden is gone because of you.”

Rook felt another pull inside him, and when he glanced to his left he saw an opening in the blight just wide enough for him to squeeze through. Instead of answering, he took his chance and dove through the gap.

On the other side, instead of Arlathan he found himself standing on the ramparts of Weisshaupt as it burned. There was no face in the sky, only the dark blackness that threatened to swallow him whole, but he could hear the screams. Wardens dying one by one around him, falling to the overwhelming number of darkspawn.

“You let Weisshaupt fall.” Davrin’s voice came from Rook’s side. He turned to see the elf kneeling above a wounded Assan. The griffon cooed pitifully, talon reaching for Davrin’s hand. “We were supposed to stop Ghilan’nain then and there, but you put your trust in an abomination and we all paid the price.”

“Davrin…” Rook felt tears sting his eyes, and he blinked them away. He stepped towards the two, his eyes on Assan. “I didn’t… I couldn’t…”

“The Wardens are a shell of what they once were.” Davrin raised his head and glared hard at the mage. “All because of you.”

Rook didn’t need prompting this time. He turned and ran back along the walls, heading towards the door that led into one of the towers. None of this was real, he repeated to himself. None of this was real. He slammed open the door and stumbled into the room beyond, falling to his knees. He stopped to catch his breath and try to ground himself.

He had to be in the Fade, that was the only explanation. Solas… Solas had swapped places with him in the prison. Deep down he knew something like this was coming, but it filled him with a great sadness all the same. He had grown to like Solas, even respect him in some ways. There were so many questions he still wanted to ask, discussions he wanted to have. But that was the plan all along, wasn’t it? Get Rook to trust him, grow closer and mold him into someone who could be held in a prison of regret. Someone just like him. The Dread Wolf had said before that they were not so different.

And Varric…

“You fell for his silver tongue, just like I did.” A feminine voice caught the mage’s attention.

Rook looked up in surprise at the unexpected, yet familiar voice. Inquisitor Lavellan stood before him, her light blond hair tied up in a messy bun and soft brown eyes watching him with empathy. She helped him to his feet, her prosthetic arm acting as a sturdy anchor for him to cling to. “Inquisitor…”

“Nova.” She insisted with a smile, just like she had before when they met in the tavern. “I know what he’s like. He charms you, draws you in with his calming voice and endless knowledge. You never stood a chance against him.”

“Nova…” Rook sighed. “I was an idiot… I watched his memories. I knew how he always betrayed those he was closest to. Why did I ever think I’d be any different if he even betrayed you?”

“He was always going to win. Right from the start.” The Inquisitor took his arm and began leading him forward. They were back in Minrathous, in the Cobbled Swan where they had met twice before. “But… you defeated Ghilan’nain. You played your part, and now… here in the Fade, you can finally rest.”

Rook looked at her in confusion. “Rest? But… I need to get out of here. I need–”

“Everything you need can be right here.” She gestured towards a table at the back of the tavern… where Lucanis sat with a cup of coffee in his hands.

Rook stopped breathing as his heart swelled at the sight of his beloved Crow. Even more, sitting beside him looking more solid than the mage had ever seen it… was Spite. It looked slightly different than when he’d seen it before in Lucanis’ mind. Its ears had a slight point, and its eyes, instead of solid violet, watched him with black scleras and violet irises housing slitted pupils. Its wings were unfurled lazily behind it, and it raised one while patting the seat next to it in invitation. A long, spaded tail curled up around the legs of the table.

“It’s…” Rook swallowed and shook his head. “This isn’t real… that’s not really them.”

“Does it have to be?” The Inquisitor questioned, leading him closer. “This is the Fade… anything is possible here. You don’t have to be miserable like Solas was. You’re different.”

“I don’t… understand.” Rook couldn’t take his eyes off of Lucanis and Spite. Inside him, even Voracity yearned for their touch.

“You don’t linger on your regrets like he does. Ignore them, lock them deep in the back of your mind and you can shape this place however you wish. Forget there ever even was an outside world.” Nova stopped in front of the table, still holding onto Rook’s arm. “You can indulge in them for all eternity.”

Indulge in Lucanis and Spite… forever? The deep longing in his gut reacted, urging him forward to take the outstretched hands of his lovers. There would be no fear of hurting Lucanis with his bites here. No risk of death if he wanted to drink from his neck for far longer than he ever could in the outside world. They would have no reason to stop as their hands and mouths explored each other endlessly. He could sate the insatiable here. All he had to do was give in.

There was a sharp pain in Rook’s gut, snapping him from his trance as he keeled over and used the table as support. No, this wasn’t right. This wasn’t real. That wasn’t Lucanis. That wasn’t Spite. As much as he and Voracity craved them both, even the demon knew this wasn’t the answer. He couldn’t just pretend he didn’t have any regrets. He needed to face them, and he needed to be with his real loves.

“What’s wrong, cariño?” The imposter Lucanis asked in a soft, tender voice. “Isn’t this what you want?”

“Stay with us. Lysandre. ” The fake Spite purred. “Play with us. Forever.”

Rook shook his head and stepped back from the table. “I’m… I’m sorry. I need to get out of here. I need the real Lucanis and Spite.”

“You’ll never escape.” The Inquisitor said in a somber voice, watching the mage with pity in her eyes.

“I have to try.” Before he could lose his nerve, he turned and ran out of the tavern–

–and into a sea of blood.

---

A week had passed since Rook was lost. There was no sign of him, no clues as to where he could be or how to find him. Not even a body to give closure. The others had said there was still a chance to find him, but Lucanis knew that false hope would kill him. He had pushed those feelings down, deeper even than when he thought he had lost Caterina. Just like he had learned in the Ossuary: feel nothing, think nothing. There was only the next target.

Elgar’nan had made his move, taking over Minrathous and blighting the city with the help of the Venatori. Last they heard from the Shadow Dragons before the Dock Town Eluvian went dark was that Solas had appeared like some white knight to protect the people and stand against the Venatori. The hypocrite. Those people didn’t know what he had planned after Elgar’nan was defeated.

The others worried for Lucanis, but none knew how to comfort him. He had shut them all out, refused to talk when the topic of his feelings came up. He and Spite were focused on one thing and one thing alone: revenge.

“If we had the right materials…” Emmrich was saying as he sat in his usual chair at the round table. “I could try and replicate Solas’ dagger. Rook let me…” he faltered saying that name, but pushed on, “he let me study the blade and its enchantments. It was unlike any I’d ever seen, but not impossible to recreate.” He didn’t say it out loud, but he wished sorely for Bellara’s keen insights into ancient elven artifacts. She would have made the process infinitely easier.

“You’ll need lyrium. Lots of it.” Neve added, “I still have some contacts with Threads outside of Minrathous. They could get us what we need.”

“The Mourn Watch also has its own supply of lyrium that I’m sure I can convince them to lend us.” Emmrich replied with a nod.

Lucanis was only half listening as he stood beside Emmrich, holding his coffee mug more as an excuse to have something in his hands than anything. He was staring at Rook’s empty chair across from him, almost able to see the mage sitting there lost in his own thoughts. The way his white hair fell in front of his eyes, his face scrunched together in concentration. His leg would fidget of its own accord, and he’d bring his fingers to his lips and bite them gently as he considered his options. All little things that Lucanis hadn’t even realized he noticed until he wasn’t there.

Then he felt something sharp in his stomach. A pain that took him by such surprise that his cup fell from his hands, spilling coffee all across the floor. He clutched his side with one hand and grabbed Emmrich’s chair tight in the other to hold him up.

The others all stood up at once. Emmrich and Neve were closest, and they each put a hand on his shoulders. “Lucanis, are you all right?” The Necromancer asked, his eyes scanning over the assassin to assess him for injuries.

This wasn’t an ordinary pain, Lucanis realized. It was familiar, and not his own.

“Voracity!” Spite stood in front of Lucanis, their wings spread out behind them in excitement. “Felt her! Felt him! Rook is alive!”

“Rook…” Lucanis was still processing what this meant, still afraid to let this new feeling wash over him. Afraid to hope. He looked up at the others then, his eyes wide and heart pounding. “Rook is alive! I felt it, through our connection!”

“What? How? Where?” Taash demanded as they moved over to stand beside the Crow.

“I… I don’t know where.” Lucanis admitted. The pain was fading, and he was able to stand up straight again. “But I’m going to find out.”

Notes:

Had to split this one in two. The Fade Prison WANTS Rook to stay, and there's a lot more regrets in his heart to use to keep him there.

Note: Writing chapters while sleep deprived may result in forgetting to put in scenes you originally planned on adding. Whoops.

Chapter 25: Reunion

Summary:

Rook makes a difficult choice in order to reach out to Lucanis; the team finds a way to bring him home.

Notes:

Guess who's just been hit by a massive snowstorm and so now has more time to write?

Blood.

So much blood.

 

Rook instantly recognized where he was. Zara’s blood bath. This was where he and Voracity were forced together, where he first tasted blood and since then craved more of it. He was already wound up by his encounter with the Fade Lucanis and Spite. Resisting them was hard enough. Surrounded by the sweet metallic smell of fresh blood, even though being here disgusted him in every possible way, was overwhelming. Eyes glowing yellow, he fell to his knees and cupped his hands in the red liquid below him. He brought it up to his lips and greedily drank it down, savoring the feeling of it as it dripped down his chin.

“Pathetic.” Illario’s voice behind him made the mage’s hair stand on end. He snarled and spun around, on his feet in an instant with claws ready to maim and shred the traitor to ribbons. The Crow, on the other hand, looked unconcerned, a hand on his hip and a smug smile on his lips. “Look at you. Look at what you’ve been reduced to.” He continued. “It’s no wonder I was able to capture you so easily.”

“Want me to take your other fingers?” Rook growled. “I could use a quick snack.”

“See?” Illario took a slow, casual step forward. “Forget my cousin, you are the real abomination.”

“And you took to it so very quickly.” Zara’s voice came from behind the mage, and he spun around to see her standing, naked, covered shoulders to toes in blood. “Much quicker than Lucanis. This is what you were meant to be.”

“No! I…” he backed away from the two. “You were the ones who did this to me! To us!”

“Not that you put up much of a fight.” Illario pointed out with a chuckle. “A prince waiting for his dashing dark knight to come and save him. Face it, you’re useless on your own.”

“You’d be dead by now if not for the others.” Zara added with a sinister giggle. “All you do is bring the team down. Why, I bet they’ve already defeated Elgar’nan by now without having to wait for you to make a decision.”

Rook tried to back away further, but his back hit the cold stone of a pillar. “I don’t…”

Illario moved closer. “And my cousin undoubtedly has realized just how toxic of a pair you two were. How weak you are. The First Talon would never let himself be seen with such a pathetic match.”

“You’re wrong!” Rook glared at the Crow. “Lucanis loves me, and I love him! Spite, too! I know they’re trying to find me…”

“In love with a demon?” Zara laughed. “My, my. You are delusional. You think that thing can actually feel something like love? Pathetic.”

“And once again waiting for his knight to come and rescue him.” Illario shook his head. “Worthless.”

Rook closed his eyes. His fists were clenched so hard that his claws were digging into his palm. “Enough…” He practically whispered, then he opened four glowing yellow eyes. “Enough!” He lunged at Illario, striking him with his claws and leaving a huge gash across his chest. Then he turned to Zara and leapt at her. His fingers wrapped tight around her neck as he brought her down. She thrashed and screamed under the blood, but Rook dug his claws into her flesh and held her until the bubbles stopped.

The pool of blood began to drain, leaving Rook alone kneeling on the red stained tiles. He collapsed then, rolling onto his back to stare up at the Fade darkened sky. “I’m… never getting out of here, am I?” He asked no one as a wave of exhaustion crept over him.

His answer came in the form of a sharp pain in his gut. He curled up and held both arms around his stomach, but the message was clear in his mind. Blood.

“We don’t have any!” Rook shouted in frustration. He pushed himself up and gestured around him. “It’s all gone now. And even that wasn’t real. None of this is.”

The pain came again. Sharper. It surged through his arm to his palm and made the puncture wounds from where his claws dug into them bleed. He looked at his hand, at the crimson liquid slowly dripping down his arm. “...My blood?”

This time instead of pain, his answer came in the form of Voracity’s golden magic swirling around his hand. Rook’s eyes widened. “Blood magic?”

There was no answer this time.

“You want me to use blood magic? Why?” But he knew why as soon as he asked it. It wasn’t just his own blood in his body, was it? He’d taken blood from Lucanis countless times since becoming an abomination. Could he use it like Solas had? To form that connection? “I’ve… never tried to use blood magic before…”

The rumbling in his stomach felt almost… encouraging. Voracity believed he could do it. Magic was magic. And really, if lyrium was the blood of titans, weren’t all mages blood mages? “Okay…” Rook said and took a deep breath. He shifted to sit on his knees and held his hands out in front of him. He focused first on the blood, drawing it out of him the same way he drew on his own mana. The crimson substance began to float from his palm and slowly orbit his hands.

He closed his eyes then and focused on his connection with Lucanis. With Spite. He could feel Voracity pulling on the thread as well. “Please… Lucanis…”

---

Another week had gone by. Emmrich had nearly finished his work on the dagger, but they were no closer to saving Rook from wherever he was. The Necromancer assured Lucanis that if this new dagger worked, they could tear open a portal to Rook just as Solas had.

Spite was growing restless. They had gone back to taking over the assassin when he slept. Twice they had actually gotten out and Lucanis had woken up in the Crossroads. Other times the demon would be pestering Emmrich about if he was finished yet. It was starting to grate on the Crow’s last nerves.

“We. Protect. Rook.” Spite growled, glaring at Lucanis as he found himself once again pacing in the pantry. “That was. The deal!”

“I know, Spite!” Lucanis sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. They’d already gone through this conversation at least a dozen times since the battle with Ghilan’nain.

“Lucanis. Never. Keeps his deals.”

“Hey.” The assassin turned and pointed an accusatory finger at the demon. “That is not fair. I have always done everything I could to keep up my end of the bargain.”

“And yet you always fail.” Spite had gone back to his sing-song mockery voice.

Lucanis grunted in frustration, and this time it was his turn to throw a potato against the wall. “I. KNOW. Spite.” He gritted his teeth, trying not to yell.

“No wasting food.” Spite mocked him again, repeating the Crow’s own words back at him.

Lucanis rubbed his temples, feeling a headache coming on fast. After spending so much time in the demon’s arms, lost in the bliss of sex, he had almost forgotten he was still Spite. The assassin opened his mouth to respond, but his head began to spin. He stumbled, and the demon caught him before he fell onto the shelves.

“Lucanis?” Spite shifted from angry to worried in a heartbeat. Then they felt it. That telltale itch in the back of their eyes that meant only one thing. “Smells like… Blood magic?” They hissed and wrapped their wings protectively around Lucanis.

Lucanis squeezed his eyes shut, willing whatever force this was out of his head. Had the Venatori found the Lighthouse? Was Illario lying about them not having any more of his blood? Then he heard a voice.

“Please… Lucanis…”

Lucanis’ eyes snapped open. “Rook!” He met Spite’s gaze, the two sharing the same expression. Then they both closed their eyes and opened their minds to the intrusion. The world shifted around them, their senses dimming to the land of the living. When they next opened their eyes they found themselves in a monochrome wasteland. Rubble and stone floated above them, but otherwise everything else was still. There was no wind, no sounds, no color.

Then they spotted him. Kneeling on the ground, covered in blood, across a deep chasm  in the stone… was Rook. “Lysandre!” Spite grabbed Lucanis and flew them across the gap. They dropped down and knelt on either side of the mage, who appeared to be close to passing out.

“Spite?” Rook’s eyes fluttered open, and he actually saw the demon kneeling beside him. His form was the same as Lucanis saw him, not the other version conjured by the Fade. The mage looked to his other side to see his assassin as well. “Lucanis? It.. it worked?”

Spite and Lucanis took one of Rook’s hands in each of theirs. “Lysandre…” Lucanis was feeling a swirling vortex of emotions, but when he noticed the mage’s bleeding palms he had to ask, “Did you… use blood magic to connect to us?”

Rook flinched. “Yeah, we can talk about that later. I… I don’t have much time.” Keeping up this connection was harder than he thought it would be, and already he was starting to sweat. “Solas swapped places with me and trapped me in his Fade Prison.”

“Knew it!” Spite growled. He shifted closer to Rook and let one of his wings drape over the mage’s shoulders.

“How can we help?” Lucanis asked, his hands squeezing Rook’s tightly.

“I… I don’t know.” Rook admitted. “This place it’s… it’s locked with regrets. It’s been… a nightmare.”

“Regrets?” The assassin glanced around them. “No wonder Solas couldn’t get out on his own…”

“Rook is better. Than the Dread Wolf!” Spite insisted, their feathers ruffling. “Rook can escape. We can help!”

“Lysandre.” Lucanis reached forward and tilted Rook’s head towards him by his chin. “If there’s one thing I know about you, it’s that you don’t let your regrets control you. You always stand by your decisions and their consequences, and you always work to right any wrongs that come from it.”

“But…” Rook felt tears forming in the corner of his eyes. “I don’t know what I’m doing. My decisions get people killed. So many people… The Shadow Dragons… The Wardens… Bellara… Harding…” He closed his eyes as hot tears began to overflow. “Varric…”

“Rook, look at me.” Lucanis said, and waited until the mage complied. “We all follow you because we believe in you. You’ve done so much for all of us. For me. For Spite. You’re always thinking of others before yourself. That aura of hope you bring, that lets us find the strength to stand up and make our own choices. We choose to risk our lives for you. Don’t let that be in vain by giving up now.”

“Lucanis, I…” Rook was starting to feel woozy, and he knew he only had a few more seconds left. “Wait for me.”

“Always.” Lucanis kissed Rook’s blood stained fingers.

“We love Rook.” Spite added, miming Lucanis and kissing Rook’s fingers.

“I love you, too…” Rook smiled at the two of them as the connection faded and their forms flickered into a bright white light.

After Rook had collected himself, he stood and turned to face the Fade Prison stretching out behind him. “No more games.” He announced and began walking. “I have to get back to the team. To Lucanis.”

---

When Lucanis woke up, he gathered the team to tell him what he had learned. Neve had frozen a cloth for him to hold against his head while he recovered from the blood magic headache. “Emmrich, how are you coming with the dagger?” He asked as he leaned against the mage’s chair for support.

Emmrich sighed and held up the dagger using his magic to make it float just above his hand. It looked exactly like the one Solas had. “I was able to replicate it physically, even simulate its magical aura… but something is missing. It can’t cut through enchantments like the real thing.”

“Are we just going to ignore that Rook used blood magic on Lucanis?” Davrin watched the assassin with genuine concern in his eyes.

“He wouldn’t have used it if he felt he had a choice.” Neve defended, surprising the group. “Now we have a lead on how to get him back.”

“But how are we supposed to bust into a prison that doesn’t have walls?” Taash asked with a frown.

“I believe I might have an idea.” Emmrich said as he stashed the dagger away again. “In my scrying of the Fade around the Lighthouse… I think I may have seen where this prison might be. It’s… fleeting. Shadows where there’s supposed to be light, like a crystal refracting the light around it to appear invisible.”

“So then we go to where its weakest point is and shatter it like glass.” Lucanis shifted the cold cloth to the other side of his head.

“You make it sound so easy…” Davrin sat back in his chair with a sigh. “Alright, when do we go?”

“As soon as possible.” Lucanis said, holding back a wince when he turned his head a bit too fast.

---

It took a few days to actually pinpoint where in the Fade they needed to focus on, and then to figure out where the Veil would be weakest in the waking world on that specific part of the Fade. To everyone’s annoyance, the answer seemed obvious once they had it.

They had to go where this all began, Solas’ ritual site in Arlathan. Everyone was tense as they climbed up the path to the ruins proper. They were either going to get Rook back, or lose their last lead to follow. Lucanis tried to push his hope down just in case this didn’t work. But it had to work.

Climbing over the rubble, Emmrich lead them up the stairs to where Solas had stood to tear into the Veil with the dagger. “This way. It’s thinner here!” The Necromancer assured them.

“You better be right.” Taash stated with crossed arms. They shifted nervously at the base of the stairs.

As if waiting for them, there was a shift in the air. Magical wind began to swirl around them, and then it was like the Veil was tearing itself open. On the other side of the blinding light was a familiar silhouette.

“Rook!” Lucanis ran forward, nearly pushing Emmrich off the stairs by accident. Without any hesitation he reached inside the portal as the figure reached out towards him. They made contact, grabbing each other by the wrist, and Lucanis pulled as hard as he could. With both hands, and help from Davrin beside him, they were able to pull the figure out of the portal just before it collapsed once again.

And then Rook was finally back in his arms.

The mage was in rough shape. Covered in blood and bruises still fresh from the fight with Ghilan’nain, and tear streaks lining his face. Lucanis held him as tight as he dared, arms wrapped fully around him while Spite’s wings encircled them both. Rook barely had any strength, but he used all of it as he buried his face in Lucanis’ chest and squeezed him tight.

Spite’s wings dissipated as the two of them were picked up in a massive bear hug by a smiling Taash. “Rook! We got you back!” They set the men down just as Assan swooped in and tackled the two of them to the ground.

“Assan!” Davrin scolded, but Rook just laughed as he was covered in griffon kisses.

“I missed you, too, Assan!” Rook scratched behind the griffon’s floppy ear with a huge smile.

“Now, now.” Emmrich offered Rook a hand to help him up, which was gratefully accepted as Assan finally let him go. “Let’s not tire him out so soon.”

Davrin helped Lucanis up and then reached out to squeeze Rook’s shoulder. “Welcome back.” He said with a smile.

Rook pulled him into a quick, tight hug. “I thought I’d never see you guys again.” His voice cracked, and he turned to hug Emmrich quickly before it could show on his face.

“We’d never give up on you, Rook.” Lucanis’ eyes never left his partner, and he had to blink away his tears of relief.

Finally Rook turned to Neve and squeezed her just as hard as he had the others. She returned the hug with a laugh, ignoring the discomfort.

When Rook let go of Neve, he felt his exhaustion hit him all at once. He swayed on his feet, and Lucanis was quick to steady him. “Let’s get you home, cariño.”

Rook nodded, but didn’t move to take a step. The Crow took a moment to make a decision and then swiped his arm under the mage’s legs so he could carry him. Rook made a sound of protest, but once his arms were wrapped around Lucanis’ neck for stability, he just sighed and accepted his fate.

Notes:

I hope I was able to do this part justice. I felt the Fade Prison wasn't angsty enough. We should have been hit with every one of our choices to deal with, not just the most recent two.

Chapter 26: Smells Like... Music and Desire

Summary:

Rook, Lucanis, and Spite spend their night together before the final battle.

Notes:

Here's a long one for y'all, one last night of passion before the end.

Even though Rook was exhausted, he still insisted he be caught up on everything he had missed while he was trapped. It didn’t surprise him that Solas had stepped in to be the chivalrous hero that saved the people of Minrathous from the scary Venatori blood mages. That’s what he did. He built up enough trust that people would be willing to fight for him, to die for him, and then he threw them away when they were no longer of use to him.

That fake dagger had potential, and the beginnings of a plan were forming in the mage’s mind. Plans and backup plans. They still had Mythal’s essence that she had willingly given to them, but if that didn’t work, the replica dagger might distract Solas enough for Rook to get a clear shot at him. Either way, Rook had a few choice words for the Dread Wolf.

“Get a message to anyone who’s still out there.” Rook ordered as he sat up straighter in his chair. Lucanis was standing by his side, a hand resting on his shoulder. “Tell them we’re going to stop Elgar’nan, and we need their help to do it. Then fix up your gear and take care of any unfinished business.” He met each one of his companions’ eyes. “In the morning, we take back Minrathous.”

There were nods all around. They were ready and determined to see this mission finally come to an end. Everyone stood and headed to their rooms to prepare, all except Rook and Lucanis. As soon as the others were out of earshot, Rook let out a long sigh and slouched in his chair.

“Lysandre… are you alright?” The Crow asked softly, brushing his fingers across the mage’s cheek. “If you need another day to recover…”

Rook smiled at the touch, but shook his head. “We’ve still got work to do. I can collapse when this is over.”

“Let us contact our allies. You should rest. After everything you’ve been through…” Lucanis trailed off. They also still needed to talk, but that could wait until after Rook had a chance to catch his breath.

The mage wanted to protest, to say he could still be helpful, but he knew Lucanis wouldn’t let him. Instead of arguing, he nodded. “Yeah… a hot bath sounds amazing right about now.”

Spite perked up at that idea, but Lucanis shot them a warning look. Now was not the time. “I will come to your room later.” He took Rook’s hand and kissed his fingers.

“That’s a promise.” Rook smiled, and as Lucanis walked away his hand lingered in the air after him. With another sigh, the mage stood up and headed for the baths.

The scorching water and calming scents were exactly what the Watcher needed for his sore body. They had said he’d been missing for weeks. Weeks in the Fade… no wonder he felt so drained. And Lucanis… how much of that time had he spent believing Rook was gone for good? How long had Rook spent believing the same about Lucanis? There were a lot of things he could forgive Solas for. Reasons he could understand why the elf made the choices he had. But this? The hurt he caused him, Lucanis, and Spite? That was personal.

When Rook finally got out of the bath, he quickly toweled himself dry and put on the pants he slept in. Though, he thought with a smile, how long would he truly have them on for soon enough? He craved Lucanis’ and Spite’s touches more than anything else at the moment. With those images in mind, he made his way back to his room.

The soft glow of the fish tank was comforting as he stepped inside. In a way, it reminded him of the soft glow of the veilfire torches in the Necropolis. That same shimmering green light that danced around the room, casting long beautiful shadows. He strolled over to the green chaise lounge and sat down. Taking a deep breath, he fell back and stretched out as far as he could. He felt a pop in his shoulder that helped release some of the tension he still felt there. He could have fallen asleep right there had he not heard the voice he most wanted to hear in the world.

“I cannot believe we found you.” Lucanis had entered silently like the assassin he was, closing the door behind him with his boot.

Rook smiled and sat up so he could see his Crow. Lucanis was holding a tray of food and a pitcher of water. Sadly, no coffee. Though perhaps that wasn’t the best thing in the world for the mage to drink at the moment. “I’m… a little surprised, too, honestly.” Rook said as he watched Lucanis set the tray on the stand behind the lounge. Whatever it was, it smelled divine, and Rook’s stomach growled in response. Not eating in weeks will do that to you.

Lucanis stood there for a moment, just taking in the sight of Rook. Hair still wet, body covered in bruises that were already starting to heal. He memorized every scar, every crease, every curve of the mage’s body. “I thought I would never see you again…”

Rook felt so safe under the assassin’s gaze. He felt loved, wanted. It was almost too much, and he had to turn away. “I… didn’t think I’d ever get out of there.” He admitted as he looked down at his hands. “How do I know if I really did? This could be more of the Fade…” He thought back to the temptation of staying with Lucanis and Spite in the prison. Could this be a more elaborate ruse? Make him believe he escaped so he would stop trying? He closed his eyes to try and stop these thoughts running through his mind.

Lucanis stepped forward carefully and knelt down in front of the mage. “You’re here.” He assured him, taking his hands and planting soft kisses on each finger. Then he reached to tilt Rook’s chin up so their eyes could meet. “You’re really here.”

“Promise?” Rook asked in a quiet, hopeful voice.

“I swear.” Lucanis sat up to gently press his lips to Rook’s. They held the kiss until they both needed to breathe, and then the Crow pulled back to rest their foreheads together.

The Watcher took a shuddering breath as everything started to hit him all at once. “Varric… Solas made me forget he died. Forget that he killed him. Then used blood magic to make me see him. Hear him. But it wasn’t him. It was just Solas further luring me into his trap…” His tears flowed freely, but he still tried to hold back his sobs. “He was my friend… and this whole time…”

Lucanis sat up again and pulled Rook into his arms. He let the mage cry into his chest while he gently stroked his hair. Spite sat behind Rook and reached out to rub small circles along the mage’s back. Neither said anything, just letting their partner get everything he needed out of his system.

Eventually Rook’s breathing calmed, his tears spent. Two things he could never forgive Solas for. The list seemed to be growing. “I was so stupid…” he practically whispered into his Crow’s chest, his voice now raw from crying. “I played right into his hands. I was starting to like Solas, to enjoy talking with him. I thought… but it wasn’t enough…”

“Being tricked by the god of trickery isn’t something to be ashamed of.” Lucanis answered. He pulled back enough so he could look into the other’s eyes. “Just imagine the look on his face when he sees you broke out of his trap.” The assassin smirked. “Underestimating you will be his last regret.”

Rook laughed weakly, resting his head against Lucanis’ again. “Think I’ll get my own fresco in the Lighthouse?”

“The biggest one.” Lucanis raised his lips to kiss Rook’s forehead, and then stood so he could shift around to sit next to Rook on the lounge. As soon as he was settled, the mage rested his head against the assassin’s chest. Lucanis reached back to grab the plate of food he’d prepared. “Vegetable paella.” He announced as he brought it down in front of them. “I figured you could use something hearty after… everything.”

“You spoil me.” Rook teased. Before he could take the spoon, Lucanis already had it in his hands and held it up for the mage. He gave the assassin a look, but opened his mouth to accept the bite anyway. As soon as it reached his tongue, he let out a moan of satisfaction.

“That’s the idea.” Lucanis continued to feed Rook in a comfortable silence. He could feel Spite twitching to take over, to be the one feeding Rook, but the Crow had already explained that their partner needed a gentle touch that night.

“I can be gentle…” Spite murmured as it watched the two fervently.

“Hm?” Rook looked in the direction of the demon’s voice, still chewing on his last bite.

“Ignore him.” Lucanis said, though his tone was more playful than anything. As he watched Rook, however, his smile faded knowing what they still needed to talk about. “Lysandre…”

His tone told Rook exactly what was coming, and the mage swallowed quickly. “Lucanis, I’m so, so sorry for using blood magic on you. I… I didn’t know what to do. I had to know you were still alive. I had to…”

Lucanis quieted him with another bite of food. “Just don’t do it again.” He ordered firmly.

Rook nodded and then swallowed. “Never. It… felt horrible. But…” he hesitated, considering if he should really share his thoughts or not. “I can see why some mages would get addicted to it. I felt a lot of power flowing through me, but…” he shuddered at the memory, “it’s not worth it.”

“I’m sorry you were forced into making that choice…” Lucanis leaned in and placed a soft kiss on Rook’s cheek, “but… it did help us find you.”

When Rook was finished eating, Lucanis made him drink a glass of the water. The cool, refreshing drink felt like sweet nectar restoring his life energy. He gulped it down so quickly that he hiccuped as soon as the last drop hit his tongue. He blushed as Lucanis set the glass back down on the tray. “Amazing how good everything tastes when you’ve gone weeks without it.”

“Like Rook.” Spite said with a wicked grin. They’d moved to Rook’s other side and leaned in to glide their tongue across the mage’s shoulder.

Rook shivered in pleasure, his face flushing even more. “Y-yeah…” he agreed breathlessly.

Lucanis frowned. “I don’t think now’s the best time–”

Rook pulled the Crow into a kiss as his argument that now was the perfect time. His body craved the contact as one last piece to his recovery. Lucanis relented, leaning into the kiss with a soft moan. His fingers slid up Rook’s neck to tangle in his hair as they deepened their connection. The mage’s lips parted to accept Lucanis’ tongue and meet it with his own.

Spite had their own ideas as their hands traced Rook’s tattoos. They left kisses on each flower and each eye of the skull, then moved their lips up until they were nuzzled into the mage’s neck. They nibbled at his skin, earning soft moans, until they bit down harder and earned a groan. Rook arched his back and pressed against Lucanis, his fingers moving to undo the assassin’s frustratingly stylish layers of clothing.

Lucanis broke the kiss and pulled back from Rook. “A moment…” he said between heavy breaths. “There is something… I need to ask you before we get lost in each other.”

The mage whimpered at the loss of contact and looked at his Crow with a confused expression. “What is it?”

Now Lucanis seemed bashful, almost… nervous. He moved from his seat beside Rook to kneel in front of him again. “Rook… Lysandre… I…” he ran his fingers through his hair. “Do you remember our first date in Treviso? In the market?”

It was such a small thing, but hearing Lucanis call that outing a “date” sent butterflies swirling through Rook’s stomach. “Yeah… the one where Illario tried to rudely interrupt and steal me away?” He was teasing, but he realized after he said them that his choice of words wasn’t as funny as he wanted them to be.

“Fuck Illario.” Lucanis waved his hand like he was shooing away a bee. “When I sent you to the café ahead of me… I… it was because I wanted to get you something.”

“A present?” Rook’s eyebrows raised in surprise. “Lucanis, that was months ago.”

“I know.” The Crow sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I… I kept wanting to give it to you, but then changing my mind. Originally it was just as a thank you for the Wyvern-Tooth Dagger. But then…”

A spark of anticipation rose in the mage at what this could possibly be. “But then…?” he prompted.

“Then I realized my feelings for you, and because of what it is I kept overthinking it. I agonized over what it would mean if I gave it to you knowing what you meant to me.”

Spite groaned. “Just. Give it to him!”

“Alright, alright!” Lucanis took a deep breath and reached into his pocket. He pulled out a small black box and held it up to Rook. “Lysandre Ingellvar…”

Rook held his breath. The way his heart was racing, he thought it might just break through his chest. Surely he was dreaming. He had fallen asleep next to Lucanis and now he dreamt this moment was actually happening.

Lucanis opened the box, and inside was a beautiful ornate ring. It was silver with a black diamond centerpiece. On one side of the diamond was an intricately carved gemstone crow with small ruby eyes. On the other was a black rose that shone red when the light hit it at just the right angle. And engraved on the inside were the words My Little Songbird.

“...will you marry me?” The Crow had planned a much more flowery, romantic way to phrase his question, but he completely forgot what it was in the heat of it all.

“Marry us.” Spite corrected, only slightly ruining the moment.

Lysandre had stopped breathing, but then at Spite’s words he let it out in a laugh. He held his hand out for Lucanis, eyes twinkling with affection and tears. “Lysandre Dellamorte does have a nice ring to it.”

A bright smile spread across Lucanis’ face as he took the ring out of the box and carefully slid it onto Rook’s waiting finger. Then he leaned in and gently kissed it. “Like it was meant to be.” He agreed.

Rook pulled Lucanis up into a deep, loving kiss which the assassin readily returned. They both worked to get the Crow’s top undone as Lucanis shifted up onto the lounge, straddling one of Rook’s thighs. As their tongues danced together, the mage lifted his leg enough to press into Lucanis’ groin. The Antivan moaned and rolled his hips to feel even more of that contact.

As clothing was tossed aside and more of Lucanis’ skin was exposed, Rook broke their kiss to plant more along his neck and shoulders. Maker, he had missed this so much. Lucanis always smelled like coffee, so warm and comforting. Nails lightly drug across the Crow’s skin as Rook lowered his lips to tease his nipple.

Lucanis gasped softly and closed his eyes, still grinding onto Rook’s thigh. His hands held the back of the lounge on either side of the mage’s head for support. He never wanted to be separated for so long ever again. Before Rook, Lucanis never truly gave sex much thought. He enjoyed the passion in his favorite romance books, sure, but never felt the need to seek it out for himself. Now? Here as the love of his life nibbled at his skin and tugged at the hem of his pants? He couldn’t imagine being anywhere else. With anyone else.

Besides with Spite, who had joined in to help disrobe the Antivan Crow. They tugged off his boots and tossed them aside before letting their tongue slide up his spine. Lucanis moaned and arched his back as a shiver of pleasure shot through him, pressing him more against Rook. Going from not desiring any lovers to having two was quite the leap, but Lucanis wouldn’t have it any other way.

The two broke apart only to finish removing the remaining barriers of clothing between them. First Lucanis’, which Spite helped with eagerly, practically ripping them and his underwear off in its impatience. The assassin was already hard and ready, and Rook licked his lips at the sight. When the mage started to remove his own pants, however, Lucanis held up a finger to stop him. Rook was confused, but complied.

With a mischievous smirk that would make Spite proud, Lucanis gently pushed Rook down to lay across the chaise. He climbed on top of the mage and pressed soft kisses down his chest, moving lower and lower until he had reached the hem of his cotton pants. One more kiss just above his hips, and then Lucanis took the fabric between his teeth and tugged them down. Rook gasped at the sight, raising his ass enough to help it slide off of him smoothly. “Holy shit…” was all he could say as Lucanis tossed the pants aside and knelt between his legs. The mage spread them wider, letting one rest on the ground and the other hung over the back of the chaise.

Lucanis chuckled and again crawled on top of Rook. Their lips met in a fierce kiss, and the Watcher wound his arms around his Crow’s neck to hold him there. Normally Rook would love the foreplay, the slow anticipation building up in them both until they reached their release, but this time he was impatient. He broke their kiss with a gasp and whispered into Lucanis’ ear. “Please… I need you inside me right now .”

“Como quieras, mi amor.” Lucanis answered and gave him one more kiss before pulling back to position himself. He moved one of Rook’s legs over his shoulder and reached down to stroke himself while he took in the sight before him. Rook’s eyes were lidded, face flushed, eyes burning with desire for him. How he wanted to play with and tease this man more before finally taking him fully, but he had to admit he was just as eager.

Spite’s wings burst out of the assassin’s back just as he aligned himself with Rook’s glistening sex. They had barely done anything, and already he was soaked with need. Lucanis chuckled and pushed himself fully inside of Rook. The mage groaned and arched his back, eyes squeezing shut and nails digging into the fabric below him. “F…fuck.” He breathed out.

Lucanis shifted so he could comfortably hold onto Rook’s leg while he slowly rolled his hips. He let himself slip almost all the way out before pushing back in again. Not wanting to feel left out, Spite was behind Lucanis, their arms snaking around the assassin’s waist and hips moving together. “Want to try something…” They announced against the back of Lucanis’ neck.

The Crow just nodded as he lost himself in the feeling of Rook. What he didn’t expect was the feeling of something warm and firm against the small of his back. For some reason he hadn’t considered the demon would mimic his form so completely, and he shivered in anticipation.

Spite grinned and pushed Lucanis forward so he was laying across Rook, shifting the mage’s leg down from his shoulder to rest over his hip to keep them comfortable. Then the demon reached down to let their fingers dip into the connection between Lucanis and Rook.

Rook gasped and opened his eyes wide as Spite’s fingers circled his clit. He reached up and wrapped his arms around Lucanis’ neck with a loud moan, and in return the assassin caught his lips with his own. Then the demon’s fingers snaked around Lucanis’ shaft as he thrusted, earning a moan from him now.

Once satisfied with the amount of wetness he had collected on his fingers, Spite pulled their hand back. Playfully, they circled Lucanis’ entrance with one slick finger. The Crow moaned into Rook as a shiver made him thrust even faster. The demon chuckled at the reactions they were getting, and slipped one finger inside of Lucanis.

Lucanis groaned as he felt the digit enter him. He wasn’t sure he would last long enough for Spite to get much farther, so he tried to slow his pace. The demon curled and twisted their finger before adding a second, and Lucanis broke his kiss with Rook to gasp and grit his teeth against the new sensations.

Rook watched the expressions on Lucanis’ face, and he realized what must be happening. “What… what is Spite doing?” He asked, his voice drenched in lust.

“He…” Lucanis tried to answer, but his words turned into another moan as Spite twisted his fingers to stretch and prepare the assassin for what was coming.

“Going to. Fuck. Lucanis.” Spite announced with a wide grin, adding a third finger.

Rook’s ears burned, and he swallowed down a moan of his own. “I… I wish I… could see that…” he said between thrusts. How he longed to see Spite when they were intimate like this. Just feeling and hearing wasn’t enough anymore.

“Lucanis can explain. Everything. I do to him.” Spite suggested with a chuckle. “Go on. My Crow.”

“Mierda…” The assassin’s face felt hot, but looking down into Rook’s eyes washed away any embarrassment that might have come with saying these things out loud. “He… he’s got his fingers inside me… using your arousal as… as lubricant.”

“Oh sweet Maker…” Rook squeezed his legs around Lucanis’ thighs as he felt the rise of his first climax. The image that conjured was enough to get him writhing underneath the two of them, thrusting his hips up to meet with Lucanis’ own movements.

“R-Rook, I…” Lucanis was barely holding himself back from his own release, which Spite didn’t help by purring into his ear. “Sp-Spite!” He grabbed Rook’s hips and gave one more hard thrust as he released his seed deep within the mage’s body. Rook moaned at the feeling, and he rolled his hips to milk the assassin of every last drop.

Spite chuckled, but made sure they kept their fingers inside Lucanis, and used their other hand to keep him from pulling out of Rook just yet. “Rook… Your magic. Your healing. Restores vitality.” He ordered with a grin.

Rook and Lucanis shared a look of shock. That had never occurred to either of them, but… theoretically… Rook pulled Lucanis into another kiss. He grabbed a fistful of the assassin’s hair in one hand to hold him there, and with the other he summoned the green swirling magic of his healing spell. He let that hand trail down Lucanis’ chest, earning a soft moan as the magic seeped into his skin. Rook’s hand moved lower until he could wrap his fingers around the base of the Crow’s softening shaft still half-buried inside him.

Lucanis moaned loudly into the kiss as he felt the magic working in him. The bliss of the spell spread through him, and he felt his fatigue falling away. Slowly he began to thrust inside of Rook once again, his cock getting harder with each movement. They could continue so much longer with that trick.

Spite radiated pride and satisfaction that its idea had worked, and that the other two had so readily followed its orders. He growled and pulled his fingers out of Lucanis, which made the Crow let out a whimper. Without missing a beat, Spite dipped his other hand into Rook’s folds as Lucanis fucked him, earning a simultaneous moan from both partners.

Rook’s head felt dizzy from all the stimulation, but he never wanted it to stop. His body, his soul, craved this. He wanted to be filled with Spite once the demon was done with Lucanis. In the meantime, as he raked his nails across Lucanis’ back, he felt another familiar hunger growing inside him that had yet to be satiated since he returned.

Spite used his newly lubed fingers to stroke his own cock. “Don’t forget. To tell Rook what I do to you.” He reminded Lucanis as he lined up his erection with the assassin’s waiting hole.

Lucanis bit his lip, his eyes squeezing shut in anticipation. “Spite… he… he’s…” a groan interrupted his voice as he felt the demon push his tip inside. “H-He’s inside me. Mierda, Spite I need more of you.”

“Como quieras, mi amor.” Spite repeated Lucanis’ words with a grin, and he pushed himself deeper into the Crow. The feeling of simultaneously fucking and being fucked made Lucanis’ head spin. The three found a rhythm of thrusting that bounced the assassin between them effortlessly.

Rook’s claws glowed as they grew from his nails, and he lightly scraped them across Lucanis’ back. Golden eyes opened and met with his lover’s rich brown irises. “Need. More.” His voice was mixed with Voracity’s.

That might have scared Lucanis before, but now he nodded and tilted his head to expose more of his neck to the mage. Rook grinned, flashing his fangs just before he leaned up and sank them deep into Lucanis’ skin. The Crow groaned in pleasure.

Lucanis was truly lost in pleasure from three sides, but he was determined not to be the first to reach his peak. While one arm was wound around Rook to keep him close, his other hand glided down to tease the mage’s slick, sensitive nub.

Rook moaned loudly into the Crow’s neck as he drank greedily. Claws dug into flesh, earning him hisses of pain and groans of pleasure. His hips bucked up into Lucanis’ as he felt himself once again driven to the edge. Finally he released Lucanis with a final cry of pleasure as he hit another blissful orgasm.

The way Rook’s walls pulsed around Lucanis’ cock meant he wasn’t that far behind. With a few more thrusts he was there, releasing a second load into Rook with a grunt. At the same time he heard Spite moaning and felt the demon’s own release fill him up. He wasn’t sure with what, but didn’t care. He reveled in the feeling as the three of them rode out their highs until they collapsed into each other’s arms.

Spite vanished from behind Lucanis, leaving him feeling empty but satisfied. He removed himself from Rook with a grunt and the two shifted until they were comfortably laying side by side, limbs tangled together. “Mierda…” Lucanis breathed out.

Rook nodded, a drop of blood running down his chin. Lucanis reached to wipe it from the mage’s face, but before he could pull his hand away Rook pulled his fingers into his mouth to suck it off.

“You are insatiable.” The Crow teased, chuckling softly.

Rook released Lucanis’ fingers with a pop, “So I’ve heard.” He teased back, and he felt an approving rumble inside him. A blanket was draped over them, something Rook guessed was Spite’s doing. He smiled and settled in against Lucanis’ chest, using his arm as a pillow. “I love you both… so much.”

“Os quiero a los dos con todo mi corazón.” Lucanis replied and kissed Rook’s head with a contented sigh.

“Love.” Spite knelt at the end of the chaise, idly playing with both of their hair. “Lucanis. Lysandre.”

Lucanis didn’t want to sleep, even though his body was exhausted. He tried to keep his eyes open as he watched Rook, but between Spite’s fingers in his hair and the comfort of having Rook in his arms it was proving difficult.

“Are you falling asleep?” The mage teased with a smirk.

Lucanis forced his eyes open and responded with a defensive, “No.” His face flushed from being caught, and his tone softened. “I never sleep.”

“You don’t have to do that anymore, you know…” Rook said softly as he reached up to brush his fingers across Lucanis’ cheek.

“I know…” The assassin turned his head to kiss Rook’s palm, “I just don’t want to waste time now that you’re here.”

“You still have to sleep sometimes.” The mage insisted.

“With you here? Like this?” Lucanis let his eyes roam Rook’s body while his hand slid down the mage's back to rest on his hip. “I’d rather stay awake.”

“Stay awake all night?” Rook asked with a smirk, shifting his body even closer so their chests were pressed together. “However shall we pass the time?”

Lucanis smiled and leaned in for another kiss. When they pulled away again he asked in a soft, almost unsure voice. “Would you sing for me? Your voice is a comfort…”

The mage blushed, but nodded. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, and began to sing, “Lace your heart with mine… Let your sleeping soul take flight… Take me through the night… Down, down, down by the river…”

Lucanis sighed happily as he listened to Rook. He closed his eyes despite himself, and his whole body relaxed completely. Spite was the same, laying on its arms as it watched Rook through lidded eyes. Its wings draped lazily over them all.

“Hanging moon in fog… Mists will lead where you belong… Sweep me off my feet… Down, down, down by the river…” Rook continued. He kept his eyes closed, so he didn’t realize when his song drew the Lighthouse wisps into the room to float lazily above them.

Lucanis was fighting off sleep again, but Rook’s voice was so soothing. It would be easy to drift off right then in his arms.

“Inky embers… Swirl and dance…  Just leap the flames to take a chance… To be with me tonight…” Rook opened his eyes to see Lucanis’ closed and his breathing steady. He smiled through the rest of the song, “Take my hand and hold it tight… 'Cause you and I are everywhere… The night is young… We're goin' down, down, down by the river…”

Lucanis was out, instantly falling into a deep sleep. Spite didn’t try to take over, and in fact had closed their eyes as well as they listened to Rook.

Rook placed a soft kiss against Lucanis’ head and closed his own eyes as he sang the final line of the song, “Don't wake me up, just leave me there dreaming…”

Notes:

I put a little easter egg there at the end~

Fun fact, Lucanis' line in the game "Would you talk to me? Your voice is a comfort" made me swoon more than anything else he ever said. That line is what made it all worth it.

Next chapter is probably going to be the last. (Spoiler alert: I was wrong, next chapter won't be the last) I can't believe I made it this far. I've never finished a multi-chapter fanfic before, and it feels a bit bittersweet. Thank you all again for making it this far! Looking back, there are some things I would change but all in all I'm proud of all I've written here.

It might take me a bit longer to finish these last chapters than the pace I've been going so far, so please be patient while I make sure this finale is perfect!

Song: Down by the River (Baldur's Gate 3)

Translation:
“Como quieras, mi amor.” // “As you wish, my love.”
“Os quiero a los dos con todo mi corazón.” // “I love you both with all my heart.”

Chapter 27: Smells Like... Sweat and Blood

Summary:

The final battle has begun. Rook must lead his team through the blighted city to reach Solas.

Notes:

Okay, so you know how I said I had one chapter left? Well, it got kinda long so I decided to split it into two. (That's a lie! It's actually split into three! Whoops.)

Also, didn't plan for there to be spice in this chapter, but Spite is... Spite.

Rook had fallen asleep like that, tangled in Lucanis’ limbs with Spite teasing his hair. Only once he was stirred awake by the demon, who had gotten bored and took over Lucanis’ body to plant kisses across the mage’s neck and chest. “Not now, Spite… let me sleep…” he mumbled as his heavy eyelids closed again. Spite grumbled, but complied. Not before stealing one more kiss as Rook fell back asleep, however.

Come morning it was actually Rook who awoke first, finding Lucanis still in a deep sleep and clinging to him possessively. The man’s body was making up for how little sleep he’d gotten since Rook was taken, even less than he usually had. The mage watched him for a moment, smiling as he took in Lucanis’ peaceful expression. He was cute when he actually slept. Eventually, however, Rook knew he had to get up, but he didn’t want to wake Lucanis. So instead he had another idea. “Spite?” He said softly.

Lucanis’ eyes opened instantly, glowing violet and locking with Rook’s. Spite grinned and pulled the mage into a kiss, holding the back of his head and letting their fingers splay out in his hair. Rook moaned into the kiss and happily returned it. As the demon shifted their legs, the mage felt Lucanis was already half-hard for him and it sent a shiver through his body. Eventually Spite broke the kiss, softly biting at Rook’s lips as it pulled back. “Our Rook.” It said affectionately and nuzzled against his neck.

Rook had just wanted to ask Spite to release him so he could go make coffee for them, but of course that didn’t go as planned. “Good morning, Spite.” He greeted with a smile. As the demon continued to kiss the mage’s neck, he tilted his head to give them more room. “Ah… think you could let me up?”

“No.” Spite mumbled into Rook’s skin. “Stay here. Like this.” They found an old love bite and began to suck on that spot to make it tender again.

Rook moaned as his eyes fluttered shut. He was going to say something else, but then he felt two warm fingers slip between his thighs. Instead of words, another moan left his lips. He was already wet, or maybe still wet, so Spite’s fingers slipped easily between his folds to tease his swelling clit.

“Didn’t get to play. With Rook. Last night.” Spite continued and trailed its tongue along the fresh new bite mark it made. Its voice was teasing as it added, “Lucanis was selfish. Kept you for himself.”

Rook gasped as he felt Lucanis’ now fully hardened cock press against him. Well… they had time, right? Deciding to give in, he pulled the demon into a needy kiss and rolled them so he was straddling it. Their blanket slid off their bodies and onto the floor. “You’re right… it’s only fair.” He teased back with a smile.

Spite grinned triumphantly as its hands trailed up Rook’s thighs. “Want Rook to feel. What Lucanis felt.” It purred and squeezed the mage’s ass as it pulled him up to its face. Rook had to hold onto the back of the chaise to keep himself upright as Spite buried its face deep in the mage’s sex.

At first Rook didn’t understand, too lost in the pleasure as Spite’s tongue lapped at his folds. He moaned and instinctively rocked his hips to feel more . The demon’s fingers, still slick from the moment before, traced the ring of his back entrance. With a gasp, Rook knew what exactly he meant. He swallowed, feeling both nervous and excited for what was coming.

Slowly Spite pushed a finger inside him, earning a shiver and a groan at the strange new sensation. They were surprisingly gentle, making sure Rook was completely comfortable with each step before adding more. The demon chuckled into Rook before pulling back just enough to speak. “I taste Lucanis. In you still.”

That alone was almost enough to push Rook over the edge. “F-fuck…” was all he could manage to say. He tried to keep moving, but Spite’s strong hand pushed him back.

“Turn.” They commanded as they slipped their fingers out of the mage.

Rook whimpered but obeyed, shifting so that he was now straddling the man in the other direction. Now he was staring down at Lucanis’ proud erection, liquid already bubbling at the tip just for him. He licked his lips and leaned down, not needing any more orders as he ran his tongue slowly up the whole length.

Spite moaned and drew Rook’s hips closer so they could return the favor. They easily slipped two fingers inside his folds and took his sensitive, swollen clit into their mouth. Rook moaned around their cock in response as he took it into his mouth. The demon curled and twisted its fingers inside the mage until they were coated, then slid them out of one hole to go back to the other.

Rook tried to rock his hips, but the demon held him still. He swirled his tongue around the length in his mouth, moaning before opening his jaws wider to take all of it in at once. They continued like this as Spite stretched and prepared Rook for the real show.

“Turn again.” The demon ordered as it withdrew its fingers and tongue from Rook again. This time there was no whimper, only a low moan of anticipation as the mage sat up, licking his lips. He shifted as he was told, and Spite brought its knees up enough for him to lean against comfortably. “Now. It’s my turn to take Rook.” The demon growled possessively, letting its nails drag red lines down the mage’s thighs.

Rook shivered, then reached down to position his ass above Lucanis’ waiting erection. He had to admit he was nervous, but in an excited sense. He could tell in the demon’s eyes that it didn’t want to be patient, that it wanted to thrust up fully into Rook all at once, but it waited. It had said last night it could be gentle, now it wanted to prove it.

Rook took a deep breath and slowly eased himself down. He gasped as the tip stretched him, hesitating. Spite’s hands grabbed his hips to help his slow pace, which he was grateful for. With each inch the mage took in, the demon purred in pleasure and tightened its grip.

Rook gasped as his ass met Lucanis’ skin. He’d never felt so full before. It was new, almost overwhelming, but so good. Slowly, so slowly and with the demon’s help, he moved his hips with Spite’s so he could be properly fucked. The mage threw his head back with a loud moan, his back arching and his hands gripped tightly to Lucanis’ legs for support.

Spite watched Rook get lost in the pain and pleasure with a grin. He was tight around their cock, and the closer he got to his climax the more his muscles contracted. To help him along, the demon moved one of their hands to play and tease his ignored, soaking clit. They chuckled as they earned the reaction they’d been wanting. The mage cried out and squeezed his legs around Lucanis’ body. “Yes! Come for me. My Little Songbird.”

Rook moved faster as he felt himself get closer, bucking into the demon’s hand to feel as much of that stimulation as possible. With another moan and shudder, Rook saw stars as he rode the high of his peak. Spite continued to tease him even as his juices soaked both of them. The demon grunted and finally squeezed their eyes shut, feeling their own release as Rook’s muscles clenched around their cock again.

“Mierda…” Lucanis’ voice was breathy, and his brown eyes looked up dreamily at Rook as they both came down from their highs. “If this is how I’m going to be woken up, maybe I will sleep more often.”

Rook’s face flushed as he looked down at his Crow. “It… wasn’t exactly planned, but you know Spite.”

“I do.” Lucanis shook his head in amusement as he heard the demon chuckling. Slowly, and with a grunt, he eased himself out of Rook and sat up. “I hope you got some sleep, too?”

Their connection might have been lost, but Rook made no move to get up from the assassin’s lap. “Don’t worry, I did. Spite was good all night.” Mostly.

“Told you. I can be gentle.” Spite gloated, its face now hovering over Lucanis’ shoulder with a triumphant grin.

“So you can.” Lucanis conceded.

“But prefer. Rough. Fast. Begging.”

“There it is.” Lucanis let out an exaggerated sigh, but his smile showed he wasn’t actually annoyed.

After sharing a morning kiss, Rook and Lucanis found towels to clean themselves off as best they could before they got ready for the day. There wasn’t really time for a full bath, and anyway they were going to be covered in sweat and blood before long. As they dressed, Lucanis hesitated as he buttoned up his vest. “Lysandre…” he said, catching the mage’s attention. “Today…”

“Don’t.” Rook walked over to stand by his Crow and let his hand rest gently on his shoulder. “We’re ready. The team is ready. Whatever happens, we’ll make it through together.”

“All I have to do is kill a god to keep you out of trouble. Easy.”

“Only one more.” Rook teased and leaned in for another kiss, which the assassin readily returned. He hummed in thought as they moved back apart. “Maybe two. Still haven’t decided on that one.”

“I would readily carve out the wolf’s heart for what he did to you.” Lucanis replied in a serious tone, “but I leave his fate to you.”

The two parted so Lucanis could inspect his knives one last time before the mission. Rook decided to use his time to check on the rest of the team. Especially Taash. Harding’s sacrifice had hit them just as hard as it had him. Harding had been a good friend to Rook for over almost a year and a half, and in the short time they’d been together in the Lighthouse he could tell she and Taash shared a very special connection. He found his Qunari companion kneeling in their room in front of what looked like an altar of some kind. A familiar hairpin with a fire opal centerpiece sat in the center.

“You and Lucanis had some fun, huh?” Taash asked without looking up as Rook came into the room.

His ears burned and he had to clear his throat before he answered, “Oh, ah… did you… hear that?”

“Didn’t need to. I can smell the two of you from across the Lighthouse.”

“Right…” Rook ran his fingers through his hair to calm himself. “I just… wanted to check in. See how you were doing after…”

Taash was quiet for a moment, still not turning towards Rook. “She saved us.” They finally said, “saved me. She was so small and so strong.”

“I’m… I’m sorry, Taash…” The mage felt a pang of guilt at having come to them after his blissful night with Lucanis and Spite.

“Just like my mother.” Taash curled their hands into fists in their lap. “I knew it was a mistake… Everyone I love dies.”

“Taash…” Rook didn’t know what to say to that. How to comfort them, but he tried anyway. “I know it’s… not the same, but you still have the rest of the team here. And you have me. I like to think… we’re a kind of family.”

Taash finally turned their head to look at Rook. “...Yeah. I guess I do. I’m… glad I got you back at least.” They stood and faced him fully. “But don’t you dare do that again, or I’m hunting you down and dragging you back from the Fade myself.”

Rook laughed. “Deal.” The two tightly clasped hands.

“Just say the word. I’ll burn down anything in our way.” Taash said, determination shone in their eyes as bright as their fire.

---

On his way out of the Lighthouse proper to find the others, he spotted Neve standing outside of Bellara’s workshop, just staring at the door. He stopped and turned to join her. “Neve?”

Neve quickly wiped her eyes before turning to him with her usual confident smile. “Rook. How are you feeling?”

“I’ll worry about that after the job is done.” He answered smoothly. “I was just about to ask you the same thing.”

“And I’d give the same answer.” She smirked and rested a hand on her hip, though her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Nothing like killing a god to take your mind off of things.”

“We can collapse when this is over.” Rook agreed, parroting what he’d said to Lucanis the night before. “I’m… sure you’ll have a lot of rebuilding to do in Minrathous… just let me know what I can do to help.”

“You sure you’ll have time to help with a wedding to plan?” She raised an eyebrow at him and held out her hand expectantly.

“What? How did…” He looked down at the ring on his finger as if only just remembering it was there. “Right, you would be the one who noticed.” Suddenly he was feeling bashful, but he held it up to show her.

She took his hand to get a closer look at the ring. “It’s beautiful. And fitting. You know, Lucanis actually came to me for advice on how to propose. It was cute.”

“He did?” 

“I’m the one who suggested he get it engraved. What did he end up going with?”

His face flushed and he again withdrew his hand so he could run fingers through his hair. “...My little songbird…”

“Cute.” The way she was smiling felt like she was teasing him. “Congratulations, Rook.”

Rook smiled as he looked at the ring again, his promise to Lucanis that they’d both survive to see tomorrow. His eyes then moved up to Bellara’s door and his smile faded. “We’ll find her, Neve. I swear it.”

Neve turned back to the door as well, but hesitated before replying. “It’s my fault. I should have been more assertive about being the one to break the wards.”

“Then you would have been the one captured by Elgar’nan.” Rook pointed out. “And Bellara would have been saying the same thing.”

Neve didn’t respond, taking a few more moments to watch the door as if Bellara would come bursting out of it any second. Then she turned and patted Rook’s shoulder. “Come on, I’m sure Lucanis has coffee and breakfast ready for us by now. Can’t save the world on an empty stomach, right?”

---

They had a plan.

All of their allies were ready and more than willing. Emmrich was going to help the Veil Jumpers take down the Venatori wards. Rook had considered sending Lucanis to help the Crows cut down the Venatori leader, but he didn’t want to spend any part of this battle separated from him. Maybe it was selfish, but he knew Neve could handle a few blood mages if the Crows could get her there. As for the construct, he could think of no one better at taking down such a massive target than Taash.

That meant Rook, Lucanis, and Davrin would focus on finding Solas. Once they had the dagger, one way or another, they would meet everyone at the Blight tendril connecting to the archon’s palace.

And so, they marched on Minrathous.

“For Thedas!” Rook shouted as his rallying cry. “For a world free of the blight!” And with that, the battle had begun.

Rook led his team through the chaos as the Wardens distracted the construct and the Crows struck down every Venatori that blocked their path. Any that got close to him either got a face full of necrotic energy, or a dagger in the back.

“Rook, look out!” Davrin called out as the construct’s massive axe came bearing down on them. Davrin and Lucanis dodged one way, and Assan tackled Rook the other as it shattered the stone walkway they were just standing on.

“Thanks, Assan.” Rook gave the griffon a quick scratch behind the ear as he stood up. Assan squawked happily before taking off back into the air to find Davrin. The mage made the mistake of watching him fly off a moment too long and heard footsteps running towards him too late. He spun around just as a Venatori blade was about to slice him in two. Quickly, he raised his hands to create a barrier, but then the blood mage let out a pained cry and collapsed to the ground beside him, a dagger sticking out of his back.

Rook looked up in shock to see who had saved him, only to be confused. The figure standing before him was wearing black leather armor with silver plates running down each arm and leg. It wasn’t the usual Crow armor or color, but based on the crow skull mask they wore that must have been what they were. Underneath their hood he could see strands of long blond hair streaked with grey, and dark lines of a tattoo stood out from their tan skin, trailing up behind the mask. They smirked, holding one finger in front of their mouth as if to tell Rook to be quiet.

“Lysandre!” Lucanis called as he landed beside the mage, Spite’s wings glowing bright behind him. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, thanks to–” He turned back to where the figure had been standing, but they were gone.

“Keep moving!” Davrin ordered as he and Assan jumped down to join them. Rook didn’t have time to dwell on who that was, instead nodding as the three of them took off towards the gate once more. They cut through more Venatori, dodging blades and spells until they reached the glowing red ward.

Rook ran into it with a grunt, finding it still solid. “Come on, come on!” He said through gritted teeth and then turned to scan the battlefield. He saw the construct swinging its weapon again, but it was displaced by necrotic energy and instead crashed into the nearby building. The Necromancer recognized that magical signature–Vorgoth. “Yes!” He couldn’t help but call out in pride for his fellow Watcher, but it wasn’t all good news. As the building collapsed on top of the giant, pieces fell around it and he saw one heading straight for Taash.

Rook tried to dash towards them, but Lucanis caught his arm. “No time. Trust they will be fine!”

“Rook, we need to go!” Davrin called as the barrier finally came down.

But Rook didn’t move, even as Lucanis’ firm hand pulled him back. He stared at the rubble and dust where Taash had been, and after another few heartbeats the stone burst out as the Qunari threw it off of them. As they stood, they bashed a charging blood mage in the head with a rock they were still holding, then hurled said rock at another.

Rook smiled, then finally fell back with Lucanis and Davrin through the gate. Now they had to deal with darkspawn as well as more Venatori. The mage quickly switched to fire spells, summoning a giant fireball to rain down on a clump of the blighted creatures. As they ran, they saw more of the ruined city spreading out beneath them. Minrathous had been through so much pain the past six months. First the dragon attack, then the Venatori take-over, and now blight. The city had been so beautiful when Rook had first seen it, and now it was being reduced to rubble.

But he didn’t have much time to dwell on that, they still needed to find Solas. As they squeezed through a gap in the blight, Rook saw more Venatori waiting for them. He readied his magic, but the blood mage was distracted by a shout and a heavy axe aimed at his legs. He jumped back just in time as a young red-headed dwarf in Grey Warden armor shattered the ground with the strength of his swing. “Blight bleeding nug sucker!” The dwarf shouted.

Just as the Venatori mage was about to counter with a spell, two expertly aimed arrows pierced his chest and he crumpled to the ground. “Gill, please. You’re almost as bad as your father was.” The archer was an older human with a serious face and black hair laced with grey.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” The dwarf grinned. The two Wardens turned as Rook’s team fully emerged from the gap. “Hey, you must be that Rookie fellow.”

“Ah… just Rook.” The mage answered with a slight frown.

“Nathaniel Howe.” The archer introduced himself as he approached them. “And this delightful fellow is–”

“Gillian.” The dwarf interrupted, then belched loudly. “Mm… maybe I shouldn’t have had that despair ham before the battle.”

Nathaniel just sighed.

Davrin stepped forward. “Wait, Nathaniel Howe? Friend of the Hero of Ferelden?”

“That’s the story.” Nathaniel nodded. “If you’re looking for Solas, he’s just up ahead. Be careful, there’s more darkspawn and blight the farther in you go.”

“Naturally.” Rook replied, holding back a sigh. “Thanks. Stay safe out there.”

“In war, victory!” Gill raised his fist in the air and then picked up his axe to charge at more Venatori heading their way.

Nathaniel shook his head and followed his dwarven companion.

After sharing a glance between each other, Rook’s team continued forward.

---

“Is there just an endless supply of these guys?” Rook asked as they jumped down into another group of Venatori. He switched his magic to ice and hurled several massive shards towards the attacking mages.

“At least they make good target practice.” Lucanis said with a laugh as he threw a knife directly into a blood mage’s eye.

“This is for Zara!” One of the Venatori, a Magister by the looks of him, called out as he hurled bolts of red magic at them.

Rook blocked the magic with his barrier as Lucanis leaped up with Spite’s wings and dove at the mage. “She’s dead. Get over it.” He said just before his blade pierced his target’s heart.

After clearing out the square, the trio ran up more stairs only to be met by the biggest blight root Rook had ever seen. It was curled around something, and it violently hurled it against a crumbling stone wall. For a second the mage thought it was just more rubble, but then he noticed the massive glowing crystals and runes that adorned its body. A golem?

A massive Qunari warrior ran over to check on the golem, except… this Qunari didn’t have any horns. He helped the construct to its feet. “Are you injured, kadan?”

“I think I chipped a nail.” The golem replied in a dry tone, looking at the crystals on its hands.

There was a brief smile on the Qunari’s face before he spun around to face the blighted root, greatsword in hand. He was ready to charge it, but it was suddenly halted by a familiar blue magic that hurled it away from them. The warrior grunted and turned to Rook’s team with a quiet glare.

The golem took one look at Lucanis and grimaced. “Ugh…”

Lucanis folded his arms in front of his chest. “Can I help you?”

“I’m just appalled that it would willingly wear feathers.”

“Feathers happen to be very stylish in Antiva, I’ll have you know.” Lucanis puffed out his chest, and Spite’s wings sprung out from behind him as if they were both preening.

The golem grimaced. “Oh, that’s even worse. It’s part bird.”

“Hold on, let’s take it back a step.” Rook moved between Lucanis and the golem protectively. “Who are you?”

The Qunari frowned. “Who we are matters little. Only that the blight is stopped here and now.”

Lucanis narrowed his eyes at the warrior. “Wait a second… a hornless Qunari? You’re… aren’t you the Arishok?”

“Not anymore.” He answered gravely. “But that is a separate battle for another day. Now I am merely helping an old friend.”

“We’re looking for the Dread Wolf.” Davrin spoke up, coming up to stand next to Rook. Assan landed next to him and squawked curiously.

“Ugh!” The golem recoiled in horror at the griffon, who just cocked his head in confusion. “More grotesque bird creatures? Perhaps this place should be squished by the mad elf.”

The Qunari ignored the exchange and gestured towards the square behind him. “He’s there.” Then he turned to the golem. “Come, Shale. We must regroup with the Warden.”

“As long as we get to squish some birds along the way.” Shale excitedly pounded its fist into its hand as it followed the Qunari away from the team.

“Warden?” Davrin raised an eyebrow, but the two had run off before he could ask any questions.

“That was weird…” Lucanis said as he watched them go.

Rook’s attention had shifted to where the Qunari had indicated. He hadn’t heard the last of the conversation, instead he looked at his two companions. “Stay here. I’m going to go have a little chat with Solas.”

“Are you sure?” Lucanis reached out to place his hand on Rook’s shoulder. “I don’t think you should approach him alone, cariño.”

“He won’t hurt me. Not this time.” Rook stated with confidence. “And if he tries anything, then it’ll be time he felt the bite of a wolf.”

Lucanis reluctantly retracted his hand. “Be careful. Spite and I will be right by your side should anything go wrong.”

Rook fixed his eyes on the figure ahead of them, standing in a vortex of brilliant blue light as he fended off the blighted roots. That swirling hunger that was always stirring inside the mage grew as he approached the Dread Wolf. That aching need mixed with rage, and his fingers twitched as his claws extended in a gleam of golden magic. Voracity was hungry and wanted blood. Wolf blood.

Not yet. Rook aimed his thoughts at the swirling void. It didn’t quiet it, but it also didn’t try to take over the mage’s actions. He approached Solas slowly as the elf fought back the blight.

Solas scanned around him after pushing away another tendril, and that was when he saw Rook. The elf’s face was neutral, unreadable, even as they locked eyes and a low growl escaped the Watcher’s lips. “You…” Solas finally spoke, “are as surprising as ever.”

Movement caught both of their attentions, and Solas shot a glare at the blight root that hurled itself at them before casting it back with a blast of his magic. The Dread Wolf continued as if he had not been interrupted. “Even I could not have escaped that prison. For you to manage it…”

If Rook didn’t know better, he’d say Solas sounded impressed. That glint of respect he’d seen during their Fade conversations was still there, perhaps even shining brighter. But the Watcher wasn’t going to fall for it this time. There were so many things he wanted to say, but they could easily be summed up with two little words. “You bastard!”

Solas looked at him with those infuriatingly remorseful eyes. “I understand your anger.”

“You killed Varric!” Rage swirled through Rook as a golden shimmer of magic, and he glared at the Dread Wolf through four glowing yellow eyes. “He tried to talk to you, and you killed him!”

“Yes.” Solas answered, almost appearing too weary to deny it. “Whether I intended it or not, Varric’s death is my responsibility.”

The pain in the elf’s voice only fueled Rook’s anger further. “You used blood magic to make me keep seeing him!” He accused, his voice cracking from the raw emotion of it.

“Yes.” Solas answered again. “I was wrong to do so.”

This would have been so much simpler had the Dread Wolf lied again, or spoke to him with arrogance, or did anything but look at him with those sad, regretful eyes. It would be easy to give into his rage, grab the elf and bite down hard against his neck. He’d drain him of every drop of blood until the life left his pretty little eyes and he went limp in his arms.

But instead, Rook felt his simmering anger cool into deep disappointment. His claws faded and his eyes returned to normal. He shook his head with a bitter laugh and pushed back his hair. “You know what the worst part is? Part of me was excited about proving myself to the Dread Wolf.” Unbidden tears started to flow down his cheeks. “I wanted to talk with you. About magic, music, spirits… without the weight of the blight or the Veil hanging over us. Just… mage to mage.”

“Lysandre…”

Rook continued. “That’s how you do it, right? You get people so eager for those little scraps of approval that they never see the knife coming.” He felt so foolish. So stupid. He wasn’t the Rook on Solas’ chessboard, he was just a Pawn. Like everyone else.

“I… am sorry.” Solas’ voice sounded so sincere that it resparked Rook’s rage. “I betrayed you because I believed only I could save this world.”

The Watcher scoffed. “Is that what you told the Inquisitor? The woman who loves you so much that even now, after everything you’ve done, she believes she can get through to you?”

At the mention of Nova, Solas’ features melted into pure despair. He winced as if hurt physically. “Vhenan…”

“Are you going to kill her, too? Like you killed Varric?” Rook challenged.

Actual tears formed in the Dread Wolf’s eyes, falling down his face as he closed them to try and compose himself. “I have failed, Lysandre.” He finally said. “I have not stopped Elgar’nan. I have not even killed his Archdemon.” He opened his eyes again, his gaze almost piercing into Rook’s soul. “The victories that have been won since Elgar’nan and Ghilan’nain escaped are yours, not mine.” He paused, determination shining through his tears. “If we are to save this world, we must work together.”

Another loud burst of laughter escaped the Watcher. “Are you… fucking serious?!” He asked in disbelief. “How stupid do you think I am? The best possible version of this is that we kill Elgar’nan, and then you finish your ritual and drown the world in demons!”

“If joining me and stopping Elgar’nan requires the Veil to stay in place, then I will pay that price, unflinching.” Solas stepped forward and placed his hand over his heart. “I swear by my own foolish pride, by love for friends I’ve failed and hurt, by everything I have ever held as sacred.” In a smaller voice he added, “By the aching love I felt and still feel for Nova Lavellan.”

Rook could feel his heartstrings being pulled at, especially with that last line. He knew what that love felt like. How much it hurt to be separated from Lucanis and Spite… it was the same hurt he saw in the Dread Wolf’s eyes. The Inquisitor had described his love as a bonfire–all consuming and scorching everything it touched. Despite it all, he felt himself wanting to believe.

Solas continued, gesturing towards the sky. “I will leave the Veil untroubled. It will never come down by my hand.”

Something itched in the back of the mage’s mind at those words. The Elven God of Trickery was always so careful about his choice of words. By my hand, he had said. He left himself a loophole that would still see his plans fulfilled, and this time Rook wasn’t going to fall for it.

However, he didn’t see much of a choice. Solas was right about one thing: they needed to work together if they wanted to bring down the last of the Evanuris. “Alright. Let’s work together one more time.”

Notes:

I hope the cameos didn't feel forced! I still have a few more planned. NOW there's only one chapter left! (Update: Nope, I was wrong).

Chapter 28: Smells Like... Friends and Tears

Summary:

Rook and the gang, with help from some new friends, rescue Bellara; everyone takes a brief respite before the final push

Notes:

Okay, I'm going to stop promising last chapters because I just keep writing more.

Spite growled at Solas as they followed him through the city. “Smells like tears and lying.” It grumbled. It wasn’t the only one unhappy with this temporary alliance, but Rook told them it’s what must be done. Whatever it takes.

Rook had to admit that watching Solas in action was awe inspiring. His magic was more powerful than anything he had ever seen before. He wiped out dozens of darkspawn with just one spell. In another world he would have loved to study this magic, to have Solas as a mentor in the ways of the Fade and spirits. Maybe even succeed in creating new magic through Rook’s songs.

But all of that was just a fantasy. In reality he was just waiting for the knife in his back as they tore through more darkspawn and blood mages. Eventually they came to a square covered in blight pustules. Rook focused on sniping those with his staff while the others took out the darkspawn and Venatori. In the midst of the chaos Rook saw two more warriors, both wielding massive greatswords, slicing through the enemy forces. One was a human, another Warden by the look of his armor. The other was an elf with white hair and glowing markings etched across his tanned skin. Rook watched the elf thrust his hand through the chest of a Venatori mage, some sort of magic letting him phase entirely through his chest to crush his heart from the inside.

The groups got closer as the battle raged on, until finally Davrin and the other Warden finished off the last darkspawn together, their swords piercing its flesh from opposite sides. “That’s how Wardens get it done.” Davrin said as he shook the blood from his blade.

Rook and Lucanis joined them, along with the tattooed elf who seemed to be eyeing the assassin warily. “You are no mage.” He said, his implied questions lingering in the air.

“Neither are you.” Lucanis replied easily.

The elf grunted at that, conceding the point.

“We must press on.” Solas joined them then. “Whatever intelligence Elgar’nan has set to direct the blight, we are not far from it.”

The two warriors turned their attention to Solas, both glaring at him as if he had slighted them personally.

Then Rook was hit with recognition. “You’re Fenris.” He said to the elf. “Varric’s friend, and the Champion’s…”

“Husband.” Fenris finished for him.

“And you–” The Warden pointed to Solas with a sharp glare, “–are lucky my sister isn’t here after what you did to Varric.”

Solas looked like he was hit with another pang of regret. “I can only offer my sincerest apologies.”

“Stow your apologies.” Fenris said. “The words of the Dread Wolf mean nothing. If you are truly repentant then you’ll fix this mess you started.”

“That is my plan.” Solas responded, and Rook noted he left out how he planned on fixing it.

The Warden looked like he still had things he’d like to say, but instead he turned his attention to Rook. “We’ll hold off the darkspawn here, but be careful. The Archdemon circles the archon’s palace ahead.”

“Leave it to us.” Davrin said with a nod.

The Warden nodded in return, then added with a slight smile, “Oh, and it’s Carver by the way. In case Varric left out that detail when talking about my sister.”

There was a loud, ground shaking roar from ahead of them. “We should move.” Lucanis said.

Rook nodded. “Good luck out there.” He told the two warriors.

“I think you need that luck more than us.” Carver noted with a short laugh.

As the groups split off Rook thought he heard Fenris mutter under his breath, “Mages…”

The team pressed forward through more blight–Rook was going to need an eight hour long bath after this fight–and ahead of them they saw a massive writhing mound of blight tentacles with more reaching up into the sky.

“Can you feel it?” Solas asked as he glanced at the corruption around them. “The blight reacts to my presence.”

“Gee, I wonder why…” Rook muttered, unable to hold back his quip.

Solas’ lips thinned, but he didn’t respond to that comment. “That must be the source of whatever intelligence guides it.” He said instead, pointing to the mass ahead of them. “If you can destroy the mind guiding the blight, we may be able to reach the palace.”

“If I can?” Rook raised an eyebrow.

“I can accompany you no further.” Solas clarified. “My presence will only draw the blight to you.”

Rook wondered how true that was, or even if it truly mattered with how much blight surrounded them, but he didn’t argue. He simply nodded and took point to lead the rest of the team forward. Eyes focused on the roots, Rook thought he saw someone wrapped in their corrupting embrace. He squinted as they moved, and with a gasp he realized he recognized who it was.

“Bellara?!” Rook broke out into a sprint, heart pounding at the sudden hope that he could still save her. The blight drew her back into itself as if taunting him with her.

A loud roar echoed across the sky, and before Rook could even get close to Bellara Elgar’nan’s Archdemon landed in front of them. It crushed the walkway towards the blighted roots beneath its weight and knocked back Rook and the others from the force of its wings.

Solas stepped up and used his magic to hurl the dragon’s head into the side of another building to temporarily stun it. “We are out of time.” He said, his voice desperate. He ran to Rook and the others, who were just getting back to their feet. He held his dagger tight in his hand as he reached them. “I will defeat the Archdemon. Once Elgar’nan is mortal, the final blow…” he held out the weapon to Rook, hilt first. “...must be yours. I can think of no one better to wield this.”

Rook hesitated. The Dread Wolf was willingly giving him the dagger, and the elf’s words once again itched the back of his mind. Not by my hand. He couldn’t help but let out a brief laugh. “And here I thought I’d have to fight you for it.”

“Today is full of surprises.” Solas replied, reminding Rook of their banter in the Fade.

The Archdemon was recovering from the Wolf’s attack, so Rook was out of time to hesitate. He reached for the dagger, and Solas released it into his hand easily.

“Good luck.” Solas met the Watcher’s eyes with a fierce determination. One that Rook couldn’t help but believe, despite himself. “When next we meet, let us be standing over Elgar’nan’s body.” As the Dread Wolf spoke his last sentence, he turned and began running towards the Archdemon. In a flash of brilliant blue magic, he had transformed into a six-eyed black wolf the size of a building–and yet still only a fourth the size of the dragon. Rook stared in awe as the Wolf leaped up and caught the Archdemon’s chest in his strong jaws. The dragon roared and tumbled back in the air, dragging the two of them out of sight. Even Voracity seemed momentarily awestruck, that constant rumbling hunger inside the mage fading ever so slightly.

“We have to get to Bellara!” Davrin shouted and snapped Rook back into the moment. The group slid down the collapsed bridge to get to the base of the roots.

“Bellara! Can you hear me?” Rook called out as they ran forward. “We’re going to get you out of there!”

The blight roots shifted and brought the Veil Jumper closer as if to taunt them. “Bellara is gone!” Her voice, distorted and lifeless, spoke to them. “There is only the will of Elgar’nan!”

Rook ignored the writhing tentacles around him and approached the cocoon surrounding his friend, dagger in hand, but he was stopped by more tendrils. “Giver of life…” Bellara’s voice continued. They connected to a nearby broken Venatori construct, piecing it back together until it glowed red with power once again. “...and death!”

Rook had to teleport back away from the construct’s fists, away from Bellara. Growling in frustration, he held out his hands and captured the blighted thing in his necrotic magic. He curled his fingers slowly, crushing it with each movement until the magic exploded and sent it flying back. Unfortunately it wasn’t enough to bring it down, but at least it was satisfying.

“More Venatori!” Lucanis announced as he threw another knife into a blood mage’s neck.

“None oppose Elgar’nan and survive!” Bellara’s voice called out to them again.

“Stuff it, Elder-ninny!” A feminine voice called out from above them, and Rook saw something hurtling towards a group of Venatori. A glass bottle shattered beneath their feet, releasing… bees? That same voice laughed as the blood mages flailed around trying to fend off the angry insects.

Rook tried to find the source of the voice–and the bees– but he couldn’t spot her through the chaos. He was forced to refocus on the battle as the construct took another swing at him. He wasn’t able to dodge this one in time, however, and was knocked back onto his ass. Teeth gritted in pain, he prepared another spell from the ground, ready to release it just as it was suddenly knocked back by a charging Qunari. A small band of fighters followed, helping to dispose of the remaining Venatori.

A man in gleaming armor with short brown hair shaved at the sides came up beside him and offered his hand. “Bull’s Chargers, at your service. You must be Rook.” He greeted with a smile.

The mage took the offered hand and let himself be pulled up. “That’s me. Wait, Bull? As in The Iron Bull?” He turned to look at the Qunari, who had just managed to rip off one of the construct’s arms and toss it aside as the thing collapsed. He was even taller than the hornless Qunari they’d met before, but maybe that was because of the two large upturned horns that truly did resemble a bull’s horns. He was also inexplicably shirtless.

“The one and only.” The man flashed another smile, then gestured to the bundle of blight roots holding Bellara. “Go save your friend. Leave the rest of these blighters to us.”

Rook needed no further encouragement. He gripped the lyrium dagger tight in his hands and ran towards the captured elf. A Venatori mage teleported in front of him, making him skid to a halt, but before they could get off a spell they were hit by four rapid fire arrows in the chest. The Watcher turned to see two elves standing above the rubble with bows drawn. One was a blond woman wearing bright red and yellow plaidweave, the one Rook could only assume threw the bees. The other was another Warden, his eyes sparkling with humor. “That one counts as mine.” He said to the woman.

“Nuh-uh! My arrow totally hit him first.” She argued.

“Well, mine was the killing blow.” The Warden grinned, an eyebrow raised over his bright forest green eyes. He ran his fingers through the mop of dark curls on his head. Even from this distance Rook noted that while the woman didn’t have any vallaslin, the man did. The blue complementing his dark skin as it curled and branched out across his face.

Rook shook his head to refocus his thoughts and turned back to Bellara. He grabbed one of the blight roots tangled around his friend and stabbed it repeatedly with the dagger. The blight seemed to respond to it more intensely than any other weapon he used. It writhed and wriggled as if to get away from the blade, but Rook wouldn’t let it go.

Finally, they released their hold on Bellara and Rook caught her in his arms just as the sound of battle around them stopped. He helped her to her feet, keeping his arms outstretched as she stepped away in case she collapsed. Her face was stricken from the blight, dark veins surrounding her eyes which had now turned blood red, but she seemed to regain herself quickly. She looked up around her, and with a surprising amount of strength in her voice she called out, “You are not my god! Get out of my head!”

The blight that Rook had stabbed began to wither, and the roots connecting to it blackened and died. When Bellara’s eyes finally focused on him, they widened in recognition. “Rook?” She reached for him, and he quickly drew her into his arms in a tight hug.

“Found you.” Relief flooded the Watcher as he held his friend. She was alive. Blighted… but alive.

As they pulled back from each other, Bellara blinked away blackened tears. “He was… he was all I could hear. It was my mind, but… he made me want to help him.”

That sounded scarily similar to her brother’s circumstances with Anaris. “It’s okay.” He assured her, reaching out to place comforting hands on her shoulders. “You’re free now. You’re safe.”

“None of us are safe…” She insisted.

“Once Elgar’nan is dead–”

“Wait!” Bellara interrupted him, raising a hand to rest it on his arm. “You can’t kill Elgar’nan yet! If you do–”

The ground shook beneath them, cutting their reunion short. “Look out!” Someone shouted as the Archdemon crashed into the walkway beside him, the Dread Wolf still clinging to him like a tick. As rubble fell, Rook was pulled back by Lucanis while Davrin did the same with Bellara.

“Everyone, come on!” Rook shouted and ran towards a nearby building. Blight roots sprouted from the ground around them to block their path. He cursed as the group had to stop and reevaluate their escape options.

They heard the cawing of a raven as it flew past the falling rubble towards them. In a flash of dark purple magic and dark feathers, Morrigan stood between them. She raised her arms and used her magic to stop a falling chunk of building with a grunt. With one hand she cleared a path for them through another building. “Quickly, now. Destiny is a heavy burden to bear…” she grunted as the group started running towards the now open doorway, “...and growing heavier by the moment.”

The last person Rook ushered through the door was the Warden archer with the green eyes. He had a wide grin as he passed the mage. “That’s my wife!” He announced proudly as the two ran through to join the group.

Rook tried to process that as they caught up. He hadn’t even known Morrigan was married. Who would she even marry? The mage had so many questions, but as they ran through another doorway into what looked like a storage room, he had to stop and catch his breath before he could ask them. Morrigan swooped in behind them, transforming back into her human form in a flurry of feathers and moving to stand next to the Warden. He smiled brightly at her, and she returned it with endless love in her eyes.

The room was still trembling, dust being displaced from the walls and falling around them. They couldn’t stop here for long. Everyone’s attention was suddenly drawn to a closed door on the other side of the room. Something was pounding on it, trying desperately to get in. Everyone drew their weapons, preparing for more darkspawn or Venatori.

What busted through the door, however, wasn’t any enemies–it was their friends. Taash and Evka stepped through first, having kicked open the door together, followed closely by Inquisitor Lavellan.

Rook’s face broke into a wide smile seeing his friends and allies safe as they flooded into the room. “You made it!”

“Not my first giant monster.” Taash replied with a grin of their own.

“Apologies for missing the war council.” The Inquisitor stepped forward. She wasn’t wearing the Minrathous street clothes they’d previously met in. Instead, she was wearing what looked like the same style of armor Rook had seen Solas’ rebels wear in his memories. Intricate patterns spread across the leather like the branches of a tree, and the boots looked almost woven together, but left her feet bare. Her prosthetic arm was adorned with an intricate silverite gauntlet. “We got inside the city with the Veil Jumpers.”

Dorian Pavus stepped up from behind her, wielding an impressive looking staff with a golden snake coiled around a crystal at the top. “It gave us a chance to finally strike back at the Venatori.”

“Kadan!” The Iron Bull moved to where Dorian was with open arms.

Dorian’s serious expression softened when he saw the Qunari. “Amatu–” he grunted as he was whisked up by his waist and lifted so they could share a kiss. The mage’s free hand came up to gently cup Bull’s face. Eventually he was set down, and he smoothed out his robes with a growing blush across his cheeks. “Yes, well… good to see you, too… Amatus.”

---

For a brief moment they had a chance to rest and regroup. Rook hung back to make sure everyone made it in safely. He was relieved to see so many familiar faces, but there were just as many bodies being brought in as well. Before checking in with the others, he helped some fellow Watchers with some brief final rites for the dead. After the battle they would be either burned or buried depending on their beliefs, but at the very least Rook could help their spirits be at peace.

After he stepped out of the chamber, he saw Myrna and Vorgoth standing against the wall across from him. “Vorgoth!” Rook greeted with a smile. “I saw your magic out there against that giant construct thing. Brilliant work.”

“EVEN GODS MAY DIE.” Was the spirit's cryptic-as-usual answer. Good talk.

“Lysandre,” Myrna smiled at him. “I want you to know that when this is over, you are more than welcome to come back home. Even the heaviest critics of your methods won’t be able to deny your efforts here.”

“Thank you, Myrna.” Rook felt warm comfort spreading through him at the thought of returning to the Necropolis and losing himself in his magical studies again, but then his smile faltered when he thought of Lucanis. “I’ll… have to get back to you on that, though…” He admitted bashfully.

“THE HEART RESIDES IN DEATH.” Vorgoth said. “GO WHERE IT LEADS.”

Did Vorgoth just tell him to follow his heart? That got a smile from the mage again. “Thanks. I’ll see you on the other side.” He offered a wave to them both and turned to head further in to check on the others.

The next set of familiar faces he saw were Teia and Viago. Viago looked tense, as usual, and Teia was trying to get him to relax, as usual. Rook checked in with them to see how the Crows were holding up, but then he also remembered a question he wanted to ask. He asked about the Crow he saw in the strange armor, and at his question the two shared a glance.

“The Crows haven’t used that design in almost twenty years.” Teia replied carefully. Rook could see the wheels turning in her head.

“Not since the Fifth Blight.” Viago added tersely. “If you see him again, let us know right away.”

Rook looked between them. “Why? Who is he?”

“Probably no one.” Teia assured him with a charming smile. “Perhaps an older Crow who didn’t want to get his cape dirty. Don’t worry about it.”

The mage felt she was holding something back, but he didn’t want to pry into Crow business. At least not from them. He could ask Lucanis about it later. Speaking of Lucanis, beyond the Fifth and Seventh Talons he saw his First Talon. He bade farewell to the other Crows and walked towards his partner.

But there was another voice that made him stop in his tracks.

“I promise I’m on my best behavior, cousin.” Illario’s voice was dripping with sarcasm.

Voracity growled and Rook flexed his fingers as he felt his claws wanting to find a Crow shaped scratching post.

“I’m serious, Illario.” Lucanis said, and Rook could imagine his frown without even seeing his face.

“Aren’t you always?” Illario glanced behind his cousin and then smiled brightly. “Ah, and look who it is. Your little bird come to say hello.” If Rook didn’t know better, he’d have called his tone charming.

Lucanis turned to see Rook joining them by his side. “Rook! I meant to tell you…” he scratched at the back of his head, looking bashful. “We needed as many hands as possible for this fight, so I authorized Illario to join us.”

“So merciful my cousin is, is he not?” Illario put his hand to his heart, the one still missing fingers. It seemed he was given special gloves to accommodate for the lack of them.

Rook growled, his eyes briefly flashing yellow, which satisfyingly made the other Crow flinch and draw his hands back. “I guess having one more hand never hurts.”

Illario had the briefest of frowns on his face before his mask was back up. “What can I say except please accept my deepest apologies, little bird. Fighting through a city overrun by Venatori? It’s what Treviso could have been, but worse. I am not so foolish as to let my own pride keep me from seeing I was wrong.”

Voracity was hungry again. Rook remembered the taste of Illario’s blood, and it was enough to have him lick his lips. “Just keep your hands to yourself, or I might just have another snack.”

“You have my word. On my honor as a Crow, I will never touch you again…” He grinned and gave the mage a wink. “Unless you ask, of course.”

Lucanis’ arm protectively snaked around Rook’s waist, and it was Spite who spoke. “Stay away. From our Rook.” It growled, then grinned wickedly. “Or I will pluck. Each remaining finger. And toes. From you. One. By. One. Starting with the nails.”

Lucanis cleared his throat as he regained control, the violet fading from his eyes. “And I won’t try to stop him next time.” He added to emphasize the demon’s point.

Illario had taken a step back into the wall behind him, but quickly regained his composure with a scoff. “I had a suspicion, but now I know for sure. That demon is part of your little relationship, isn’t it? Lucanis! I didn’t think you had it in you to be so kinky. Who knew it would take a monster for you to finally find a suitable partner.” He was teasing, though Rook couldn’t tell if he was trying to be playful or hurtful.

Lucanis definitely wasn’t enjoying the teasing. “At least I found someone. Still unable to spend more than a single night with any given partner? Must be so hard not to be able to make them stay.” He returned the insult, making Spite chuckle in the background.

“I could have any man, woman, or anyone inbetween in Treviso wrapped around my finger in a heartbeat.” Illario defended himself. It seemed Lucanis had touched a nerve. “I’m simply not interested in being tied down just yet.” He glanced at Rook’s hand as the mage crossed his arms and then raised an eyebrow at his cousin. “Speaking of… I am invited to the wedding, am I not?”

“No!” Spite responded through Lucanis. “Illario not allowed.”

The other Crow placed a hand over his heart in exaggerated shock. “And here I was already planning my toast. What would Caterina say that you didn’t invite your only family to your big day?”

Lucanis stiffened at the mention of his grandmother, which Rook noticed immediately. He gave his assassin a questioning look as Illario glanced between them with a growing smirk.

“Cousin, did you not tell our own grandmother your intentions? I’m sure she’ll be perfectly fine accepting another abomination into the Dellamorte family. And not even a fellow Crow!”

It was Rook’s turn to lash out at Illario. He growled as four golden eyes glared at the other Crow intensely. “Enough!”

Illario raised his hands up in surrender. “Apologies, perhaps I step too far.” He said, though he still had a smug smile on his lips. “Please, don’t let me distract you. I’m sure you have much preparation to take care of for this final fight.”

Rook tugged Lucanis along with him as he stepped through the door to the right of Illario. Once they were enough out of earshot, Lucanis sighed. “I’m… sorry about that, Rook. We can talk when this is over…”

The mage nodded and leaned in to give Lucanis a quick peck on the lips to show there wasn’t any ill will between them, even if they definitely did have things to talk about after the battle. “You go on and join the others, I still want to check in with more of our allies.”

Lucanis nodded and brought Rook’s hand to his lips to kiss their ring. “I’ll be waiting.” He whispered a little too huskily, which caused the mage’s face to heat up ever so slightly.

Rook took a moment to calm down before he resumed his rounds. Eventually he saw Isabela standing beside… was that the Crow with the strange armor that rescued him? They seemed to be standing rather close to each other, and Isabela even giggled. He almost didn’t want to interrupt them, but the Crow saw him and gestured for him to join them with a dazzling smile.

Isabela turned and smiled when she saw Rook. “Rook! Come here, there’s someone I’d love to introduce to you.”

The mage still felt a bit bashful, but having been seen meant he had no choice. He walked over to join them, clearing his throat before speaking. “I, ah… didn’t get a chance to thank you for saving me back there.”

“The pleasure was all mine, dear Rook.” His accent was definitely Antivan, sounding just as silky as Lucanis’ own. He lifted his Crow mask to give the mage a wink, finally letting him see his face. He was an elf, turns out. He had similar rich brown eyes to his own beloved assassin, which actually made Rook’s face flush ever so slightly.  He was older than Lucanis, but still devilishly handsome.

“Rook, you remember that old friend I told you about that the outfit I gave you was inspired by?” Isabela asked as she placed a hand on Rook’s shoulder. “I’d like you to meet one of my dearest friends, Zevran Arainai.”

“Just Zevran now, please.” The elf took Rook’s hand and gave it a quick, chaste kiss in greeting. “Zev to my friends. I have heard a lot about you, Rook. Including the fact that you have stolen the heart of the new First Talon.”

Rook felt his blush deepen, and he was glad Lucanis wasn’t there to see this. Well, he was glad Spite wasn’t there would be more accurate to say. He imagined the elf in front of him in that armor Isabela gave him, and then instantly regretted it when he felt his heart beat faster. “I, ah… well…” The name “Arainai” felt familiar to him, but he couldn’t quite place why.

Isabela noticed the ring on Rook’s hand that Zev was still holding and her eyes lit up. “Is that what I think it is?”

Zev held Rook’s hand up higher so he and Isabela could admire the ring. “Genuine Antivan craftsmanship. A true work of art. Your First Talon has good taste. In more ways than one.”

Briefly Rook had the thought that this must be how much Illario thought he was charming. But the man didn’t hold a candle to this older elf. “Thank you…”

Isabela lightly punched Rook’s arm as Zev finally released his hand. “See? Didn’t I tell you there would be a wedding? Don’t worry, I already have more ideas for presents for you both.”

“Oh, I ah…” Rook cleared his throat again. “You don’t have to…”

“Nonsense.” Isabela waved him off. “You need a wealthy aunt to spoil you, and I’ll gladly play the part. It’s the least I can do for everything you’ve done for Taash. They’ve grown so much since meeting you.”

Rook gave her a genuine smile at that. “Thanks, Isabela.”

“Now go on. You show those gods who you are, Rook. You laugh in their faces, and you bring them down.” Her eyes softened as she added, “For Varric.”

“For gold. For glory. For Varric.” Rook agreed. As he stepped away from them he saw in his periphery Zev step back closer to Isabela and whisper in her ear, to which she again giggled. The mage had a feeling he knew how they would be celebrating after their victory.

The next set of familiar faces he saw were the Veil Jumpers, Strife and Irelin. Surprisingly, Emmrich was there with them. He stood close to Strife, his hand swirling with green magic as it hovered over the elf’s side. “You should have said something sooner, Strife. A wound from a Venatori blade has a higher chance of infection.”

“I’ve had worse.” Strife insisted, his eyes watching the Necromancer work.

“That’s not the reassurance you might think it is.” Emmrich looked up to meet the elf’s eyes, and Rook noticed there seemed to be a spark of interest there between them. The way Emmrich let his hand linger even after his spell was complete. The way Strife didn’t even try to step back from the professor.

“Rook.” Irelin called out when she noticed him lingering so as to not interrupt the moment.

Strife and Emmrich stepped back from each other, the latter adjusting his coat and pretending he didn’t have a slight hint of red on his cheeks. It was the elf who spoke first. “Rook. Hit them hard. We’ve all had enough of Elgar’nan’s tyranny.”

“Be sure to silence him.” Irelin agreed.

“We will ensure this ends today.” Emmrich looked back at Strife. “Just… be careful out there.”

“As long as it means your offer still stands after the battle.” The corner of Strife’s lip turned up in a half smile.

“Of course. I should love to be able to converse with you more properly and under less dire circumstances.” Emmrich replied with a shy smile of his own.

Rook decided to continue on and leave them be for the moment, walking away with a knowing smile on his face. The next group he found were the Wardens. Along with Antoine and Evka, he recognized the other Wardens he’d met along the way there. Nathaniel, Carver, Gillian, and that other elven Warden he didn’t catch the name of stood surrounding Davrin and Assan.

It seemed Assan was the star of the show for the moment. The dwarf, Gillian, seemed to be finding the courage to reach out and pat his head. The griffon squawked encouragingly and flapped his wings, which only made the young Warden jump back. The others laughed at his antics.

“I promise he won’t bite.” Davrin assured him.

“Unless you smell like truffles.” Rook added as he joined the group. Assan perked up at his voice and leapt up to lick his face. The mage laughed and scratched the top of the griffon’s head. “Hey, buddy. I know I said the word, but I’m afraid I don’t have any on me right now.”

Assan flapped his wings and sat back down, looking up at the mage expectantly, his tail twitching in excitement.

Rook shook his head. “Okay, you got me.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a single gingerwort truffle. He’d taken up the habit of keeping a few on hand when he went out with Davrin. He tossed the truffle to Assan, who easily caught it in his mouth and chewed happily.

“What’s his name?” The elven Warden asked, still smiling brightly as he watched the griffon.

Davrin almost seemed bashful at the question. “Well… it’s Assan, actually. I named him after… well, you.”

“Me?” The elf’s eyes lit up at that. “I have an actual griffon named after me?”

Rook laughed. “Thanks for the save, by the way.” He said to the elven Warden. “I don’t think I caught your name before. ”

“You don’t recognize him?” Gillian stared up at Rook with wide eyes. The other Wardens all looked at him expectantly as well.

Now it was the mage’s turn to feel bashful. “Ah… should I?”

“He’s only the greatest Warden who ever lived!” Gillian practically shouted, gaining the attention of everyone within earshot. “The Warden-Commander who survived an Archdemon? Savior of the South? The man my father named me for? The Hero of Ferelden?”

Said Hero of Ferelden crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Got any more titles for me?” He asked with an eyebrow raised in amusement. Then he looked at Rook. “Ghilassan is fine. Or just Ghil. I’m just here as backup today, though. I’ll leave the actual day saving to you.”

“It’s an honor to meet you.” Rook gave him a genuine smile. “Davrin’s told me a lot about you, actually. Said you were one of his biggest heroes.”

“Really?” Ghil looked back at Davrin with a grin.

Davrin shot Rook a warning glare before replying sheepishly. “Well… yeah, of course. You stopped a blight in just six months, and with only two Wardens! The rest of the world barely had time to notice a blight was even happening.”

“Yeah, the First Warden certainly didn’t want to believe me.” Ghil muttered and rolled his eyes. Then the humor left his face and he glanced between his fellow Wardens. “I’m… sorry, by the way. For not being at Weisshaupt. I just… couldn’t leave Ferelden defenseless against a wave of darkspawn worse than even during the Fifth Blight.”

“None of us could.” Nathaniel added grimly. “If any of the Southern Wardens fell back when the First Warden ordered us to, I’m not sure we would have even held Skyhold.”

“You did what you had to do.” Davrin replied. “And I don’t think the extra numbers would have helped… we would have just lost even more Wardens.”

“Do you think there’s a chance we can rebuild Weisshaupt?” Carver asked. “After the battle here?”

“I’m not sure.” Davrin replied honestly, shaking his head. “I think taking back the South is the more pressing issue. Even though this is the last Archdemon, there’s still a lot of blight and a lot of darkspawn to keep us occupied for a while.”

“Will you help us?” Ghil asked Davrin hopefully. “In taking back the South after this battle is over?”

Davrin glanced at Rook. They hadn’t really discussed what was to become of the Veilguard after the battle. Everyone had their own lives to return to. The mage put his hand on Davrin’s shoulder and squeezed it lightly, smiling. “If you want to help, I think you should.”

“I agree.” Evka said. She and Antoine joined their little circle.

“If the Wardens stand united, I believe we can take back Ferelden from the darkspawn.” Antoine added. “Besides… we still need to choose our next First Warden, and I can think of no one better than the Hero of Ferelden.”

Ghil looked like he was going to choke on the air. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Yes!” Gillian punched the air. “Told you he was the best of the best!”

“They’re right.” Davrin nodded with a smile. “Out of all the senior Wardens we have left, you have the most experience with leadership.”

“I’m… not really much of a paperwork guy…” Ghil scratched behind his ear nervously. “I don’t know how great of a First Warden I’d be. Besides, I have my family. Morrigan, Kieran…”

“Kieran is a grown man now.” Nathaniel pointed out. “And Morrigan? You know she’d support you in anything you decided to do.”

“I’ll…” Ghil hesitated, then sighed. “I’ll think about it.”

Rook decided to take his leave, feeling like the seventh wheel in this conversation. He excused himself and turned to enter the next building. He wanted to check on Bellara in the makeshift infirmary before they started their next strategy meeting.

Notes:

Still got some cameos to go, and then the final push towards Elgar'nan!

(Also, to clarify don't worry my Hawke is helping Avaline and Merrill with Kirkwall refugees. She wasn't left in the Fade, Loghain was!)

Chapter 29: Smells Like... Vengeance and Loneliness

Summary:

The break is over, and it's time for the final push towards the end.

The infirmary was little more than a large room filled with makeshift beds made from anything soft they could find. There were a few mages and herbalists tending to the injured, but Rook’s eyes were drawn to the back corner of the room where Bellara was resting in a slightly broken armchair. There was a mage tending to her, blue healing magic swirling around his hands as they hovered over her frame. He looked tired, like he hadn’t slept in a decade. Long dirty blond hair was tied back out of his face, and his brown eyes appeared both distant and focused at the same time. His beard was unkempt, looking more like what Rook had expected Lucanis’ to be when they first met in the Ossuary.

“I can ease the symptoms a little.” The healer was saying, “but the only chance you have of survival is to join the Wardens...”

“I’ll worry about that later.” Bellara told him. Neve stood quietly on her other side, a hand placed comfortingly on the elf’s shoulder.

A young man approached the two holding a small glass vial of red liquid. He held it out for the elven woman to take. “Here. ‘Tis a special mixture my mother taught me. It should ease some of the pain of the blight.”

“Thank you.” Bellara smiled up at him as she gratefully took the potion.

Rook walked over to join them. “Bellara.” He greeted softly, “How are you feeling?”

The group turned their attention to him when he spoke, and Bellara’s smile widened for a moment. “Not great, but… I’ll manage.”

The young man spoke up. “I’m amazed your mind is so clear after being held in blight for so long. ‘Tis truly a testament to your spirit.” Now up closer, Rook could see more of the man’s features, and he was honestly quite handsome. Dark brown curls spilled out around his face, stopping a little above his shoulders. His eyes were gentle, contemplative, and the same shade of yellow as Morrigan’s. Combined with his tanned skin and a tattoo over one eye almost resembling vallaslin, Rook realized who this must be.

“You’re… Kieran, right?” Rook asked, pointing to the man. “Morrigan’s son?”

Kieran looked at Rook with a small, almost shy smile. “Am I that obvious?”

“Morrigan has a son?” Bellara looked up at him in amazement.

“Has for the last twenty-two years, last I checked.” Kieran chuckled as he took back the now empty potion bottle from Bellara.

“You should rest as long as you can.” The healer spoke up again as he stood up straight. “I would recommend avoiding the fight altogether, but I know that would be an impossible ask.”

There was something about the mage that Rook couldn’t put his finger on at first, but then he felt the familiar way the Fade shifted around the older man. “You have a spirit in you.” He said before he could stop himself. Voracity stirred inside him, voicing her own observations in the form of feelings. “...Justice?”

“Vengeance.” The healer corrected wearily.

“The proper word is demon.” Fenris said with a scowl. Rook hadn’t noticed him before, but he was leaning against the wall next to the doorway, his eyes never leaving the healer.

Rook was about to say the Mourn Watch doesn’t use that term, but he was distracted by another thought as pieces clicked together in his mind from his knowledge of history and Varric’s stories. He turned to the healer with wide eyes. “Wait, then… you’re Anders? The man that triggered the Mage Rebellion?”

Anders moved to take a seat on an old box and let out a long sigh. “Yes. I am. You can save your judgement, I’ve heard it all before.”

Neve raised an eyebrow, but kept her thoughts to herself.

Rook shook his head. “Varric told me about you… all I really want to say is… I’m sorry.”

“Varric…” Anders looked down at his hands, staying quiet for a moment before continuing in a soft voice. “...I never got to thank him. He never stopped trying to reach out to me. Not until I made it impossible.”

“He was a good man.” Fenris agreed, finally dropping his gaze away from Anders. His features softened at the memory of his old friend.

“I always wanted to meet him…” Bellara said quietly. “He sounded like a good friend to have.”

“He was…” Rook smiled as his memories of Varric played through his mind. “I could have listened to his stories for hours.”

“He always knew just what to say.” Neve agreed.

The room was silent, but then Anders looked up, his gaze turning to Fenris. “Does Hawke know?”

The elf was quiet, his mouth a thin line and his eyes dark. “...No. She’s had too much on her plate with helping Avaline evacuate Kirkwall. I… couldn’t tell her.”

Anders looked angry at that. “She has a right to know! She was closer to Varric than any of us were.”

“I know .” Fenris glared at the healer, his tone a warning not to keep pushing. “I will tell her when I return to her. Once we’re done here.”

“Hurting. Telling would be too much, not now. Not when the weight of her city remains on her shoulders.” A new voice startled Rook, and he realized there was another young man standing in the room with them. He couldn’t see much of his face beneath his ridiculously large hat, just that his hair was wispy and blond. There was something else about him, a familiar magical energy that radiated comfort from his very presence. Finally he looked up, eyes big and sad. “I miss Varric…”

“...Compassion?” Rook was sure the magic he was feeling was of a spirit, but this young man wasn’t quite a spirit. He still had the aura of one, but on the surface he seemed completely human.

The spirit turned to him, and his eyes seemed to reach into his very being. “Burden of the King thrusted upon the Rook unexpectedly. Trusted too much, now feels responsible for everything going wrong. Comforted by death and Spite, touched by Whimsy… and an aching hunger deep, deep inside that will never go away.” He blinked, his eyes refocusing as he seemed to come out of whatever that was. “I’m Cole.”

Rook had no idea how to respond to that at first, but then he remembered a conversation he’d had with Solas what felt like a lifetime ago. “Cole? Solas told me about you. A spirit of Compassion who took on a human form when you couldn’t save a mage child…”

Cole nodded. “I was… confused for a long time. I hurt people thinking I was helping, but then I found friends who helped me see. I wanted to live as Cole, and the Inquisitor and Varric helped. Solas didn’t like it…”

“Because he used to be a spirit, too, and regretted taking a physical form…” Rook rested his hand under his chin in thought.

“I knew who he truly was from the beginning, but didn’t know what it meant. He made me forget so I wouldn’t tell. I felt so much hurt in him… constant, deep, unrelenting regret… I wanted to help. He wouldn’t let me.”

“Yeah, that sounds like him.” Rook sighed.

“You can still help him, Rook.” Cole insisted, his eyes hopeful as he looked at the mage. “One last fragment. Ancient and bitter, but now given a second chance to make right her mistakes. Let the wolf go. Tell him it’s okay.”

“Cole…” That was true, he still had the fragment of Mythal she had granted him in the Fade. “I… can’t make any promises, but… if I think there’s a chance…”

“It would be easier to just kill him.” Fenris pointed out.

Bellara spoke up now, reaching up to grab Rook’s arm. “That’s what I need to talk to you about.” She tried to stand, but moved too quickly and swayed on her feet.

Rook and Neve caught her and eased her back down onto the chair. “Easy now, Bellara.” Rook said, “Take a few more minutes to rest, and then we’ll have another war meeting.”

“Okay…” she nodded and then took a deep, calming breath.

Rook turned to leave, but Anders stood from his seat to stop him. “Rook, was it?”

The Watcher looked back at him curiously. “Yeah?”

The healer hesitated, then took a step forward. “You’re like me… aren’t you?”

Fenris turned his scowl to Rook now, waiting for his answer.

Glancing between the elf and the healer, Rook decided something and gestured for Anders to follow him. “Come with me, there’s some people I want you to meet.”

Anders hesitated, but after a quick glance at Fenris he decided to oblige him.

The elf’s hand twitched, and it looked like he was about to follow after them when Kieran asked him to help with something. Reluctantly, he let the mages leave on their own.

As the two took the stairs up to the main area designated for the war meeting, the building shook once again. They didn’t have a lot of time. On the way they passed Shale talking with Stalgard.

“It… really thinks that could work?” The golem asked, almost sounding hopeful.

“I do.” The dwarf nodded. “Come back with me to Kal Sharok after the battle, and we’ll see what we can do to help you.” He noticed Rook and turned to say something as they passed. “Rook. Don’t let Harding’s sacrifice be in vain.”

“I won’t.” The mage responded, a fresh pang of grief surfacing at just hearing her name.

Farther in, Rook saw Dorian and Bull together in the corner, talking. Bull leaned casually against the fireplace, looming over the magister. Dorian seemed to be enjoying the view. Inquisitor Lavellan, Morrigan, and that blonde elven archer were standing next to them in their own conversation. The Inquisitor laughed at something the archer said, and it was the first time Rook had seen such genuine joy on her face. He caught a name then, Sera. From the song? That actually made a lot of sense given their brief interaction.

But Rook was looking for someone else. After a quick scan, he found Lucanis standing on the other side of the room. Even better, he was talking with Emmrich. With a smile, the Watcher motioned for Anders to follow and greeted the two. “Lucanis. Emmrich.” He called, getting their attention.

As soon as Lucanis heard Rook, his features lit up. He held out his arm for Rook to step into, which the mage gladly accepted. The Crow rested his hand easily on Rook’s waist and pulled him in close.

Anders shifted awkwardly.

Rook looked back at the healer. “Anders, I’d like you to meet Professor Emmrich of the Mourn Watch, and my fiancé Lucanis Dellamorte.” It sent a thrill through him to be able to say that.

“First Talon of the Crows.” Lucanis added, “If we’re sharing titles.”

“Smells like… Vengeance and loneliness.” Spite took over Lucanis briefly, eyeing Anders curiously.

Well, that was one way to get straight to the point. Lucanis shook his head. “Spite, we’ve talked about how rude that is.”

The demon grumbled.

Anders looked completely taken aback by how casually Lucanis handled that. He looked between Rook and Lucanis with wide eyes. “You… you’re both…”

“Abominations?” Lucanis shrugged. He was so casual about that word now, no longer afraid of what it meant. “It happens.”

“You’re not a mage.” The healer observed, his brows furrowed.

“No. I am not.” Lucanis didn’t seem to trust Anders yet with the details of his story, which was understandable. Rook hadn’t expected everything to come out all at once.

“If I may.” Emmrich interrupted. “I sense you have your own… stowaway? Anders, was it?”

Anders glanced away from them before sighing. “Yes… for the past twenty years or so. Once upon a time I thought I was helping a friend. Turned out it was the worst thing to happen to either of us…”

“Your friend, a spirit of Justice?” Emmrich guessed.

“He’s Vengeance now…” Anders seemed to look even more tired than he already did. “I don’t know exactly what triggered it. Maybe it was my tainted blood, maybe I just had too much anger at the injustices mages faced in the South. Maybe there was something in Kirkwall’s water.” There was a hint of humor in his last sentence, perhaps a glimpse of the man he was before. “At least… he’s become quieter since the rebellion ended.”

Lucanis regarded him carefully, then decided to speak up. “Spite was a spirit of Determination forced into me by a crazed blood mage witch. I’ll spare you the gory details, but suffice it to say we didn’t quite get along at first. Now?”

“Lucanis. And Rook. Mine.” Spite purred, taking over Lucanis briefly to squeeze Rook and kiss his head.

Once again, the healer looked shocked. “Well… that’s certainly a unique turn of events.”

“My point is…” Lucanis shot a quick warning glare to the demon now standing beside Rook, chuckling. “Spite and I found common ground, made a deal. And now… I wouldn’t want to be without him.”

Anders shook his head. “I tried with Justice. We agreed on a lot of things, but then… then he got too much. And I started to pull away…”

“I’m so sorry, my dear.” Emmrich said, pressing his fingers together in front of him. “Justice is a very strong emotion. It’s not surprising you were overwhelmed even if you did invite him in willingly.” He gestured to Lucanis and Rook. “I was able to help these two make peace with their spirits. Perhaps I can assist you as well? You both deserve that peace and rest.”

Anders looked like he was about to argue that he deserved nothing of the sort, but instead just sighed. “I think we’re past that at this point… I don’t know how to separate us without one of us dying. I’ve accepted there’s no helping either of us now.”

“The Mourn Watch are experts in the Fade.” Rook insisted. “Especially Professor Emmrich. If anyone can help, we can.”

“You don’t even know me.” Anders looked between the three with skeptical eyes.

“No.” Emmrich agreed, “but that can change. When this is over, why don’t you come with me to the Grand Necropolis in Nevarra? At the very least, you may find some peace among the graves.”

“Emmrich, that sounds like you’re going to kill him.” Rook pointed out.

The older mage held a hand over his mouth. “Oh dear, I suppose that did come out wrong, didn’t it?”

Anders found himself laughing despite himself. He couldn’t remember the last time he did that. Still, he hesitated. His eyes turned to Rook, “What about you, then? What’s your personal demon?”

“Voracity.” Rook said, and just the mention of their name seemed to wake them. The mage grimaced briefly at that. “Courtesy of that same bitch that put Spite in Lucanis. We also made a deal…” he glanced at Lucanis, eyes flicking to his neck before he forced himself to look away. “It’s… not easy, but I care for spirits as much as–if not more than some–living people. I want to help the waking and dreaming worlds find balance with each other.”

Lucanis felt the growing need inside of his fiancé, and he squeezed the mage’s side in reassurance. “I don’t believe I would have found harmony with Spite without Rook and Emmrich.” He told Anders. “You should consider the offer.”

“I agree.” A fourth voice joined the conversation, and they all turned to see Ghil approaching them. The elf stopped next to Anders and put a hand on the mage’s shoulder. He smiled affectionately at his friend. “Anders… I think you’ve punished yourself enough. You and Justice do deserve to find peace.”

“Commander…” Anders looked as if he were on the verge of tears.

“Do you want me to make that a direct order, Warden?” Ghil teased, flashing a smile. “I hear the Order might make me First Warden. That means you have to do what I say.”

Anders found himself laughing again, tears now flowing freely down his cheeks. “Alright… I’ll…” he looked between the other men. “If I survive this…”

“When you survive this.” Ghil corrected.

Anders shook his head, smiling softly. “...I’ll give it a try. For Justice.”

“New friend!” Manfred clapped his hands as he ran up to stand beside Emmrich.

---

As it turned out, Rook was right. The god of trickery did indeed dance around the truth once again. Not quite lying, but withholding enough information to keep the upper hand. If they killed Elgar’nan, the Veil would come down. Not by Solas’ hand, but by Rook’s.

New plan. They were going to tie the Veil to Solas’ life. That meant drawing the Dread Wolf’s blood with the dagger, which was easier said than done. The tentative plan was to try and trick Solas long enough with the fake dagger to give Rook enough time to use the real one against him. Yet… Cole’s words echoed in the mage’s mind. Could they finally break through to him? Finish what Varric started? With Mythal’s fragment, her memories in Morrigan, and Inquisitor Lavellan here… did they have a chance? Rook had until they killed Elgar’nan to decide.

It was time for the final preparations.

Lucanis stole Rook away to a hidden corner of the room, a cozy reading nook tucked away behind a large bookshelf to give them some privacy. Once they were alone, Lucanis took Rook’s chin gently in his hand. “Lysandre… how are you holding up?” He asked softly, letting his thumb brush against the mage’s jaw.

“I was about to ask you that.” Rook smiled and leaned into the hand. “I’m…” he sighed. “I’m terrified. I believe in my team, but… there are so many ways this can go wrong. If I can’t get through to Solas, or if I can’t trick the god of trickery… it’s over.”

“Whatever happens.” Lucanis took Rook’s face in both of his hands now, forcing them to lock eyes together. “We will not let him hurt you. Not again.” He pulled Rook in for a kiss, one that started soft but quickly turned needy. Rook gripped the assassin’s jacket and pressed into him as close as he could. When they pulled away, both of them were breathless.

“Lucanis…” The ring caught the light and sparkled on the mage’s finger, catching his eye for a moment. “If I’d never gone to the Crows… if I’d never found you, I… I’m just so grateful I did.”

“As am I. More than I’ve ever told you.” Lucanis pressed their foreheads together and closed his eyes. He remembered then what he’d actually wanted to say when he proposed. “Lysandre, saying I owe you my life is not enough. You know my mind. I’ve assumed you know my heart because… it beats for you. It’s been beating… when I wanted you. When I was afraid to want you...” he opened his eyes to meet Rook’s again, his own filled with nothing but love and devotion. “Tell me this ends with me asleep in your arms, and I will kill any god you ask.”

“Lucanis, I…” Rook blinked back tears, his words choking in his throat.

“I love you, Lysandre. Te amo más de lo que jamás podrías imaginar. More than I ever dreamed I could love another. We are going to make it through this day, and then we are going to spend the rest of our days in each other’s arms.” He smirked, then added, “And Spite’s.”

“I love you, too.” Rook practically whispered, then he closed his eyes and leaned in to capture the assassin’s lips with his own. Lucanis moved one hand to cup the base of the mage’s neck and the other to rest on the small of his back. As they held each other, Spite’s wings enveloped them completely, showing the demon’s own devotion to the two of them. Their tongues met, dancing together and tasting each other desperately as if it were their last chance to do so.

That hunger stirred again, and Lucanis broke the kiss with a chuckle. “One last snack before the final battle?” He asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Are you sure?” Rook pulled back slightly. “If I take too much… I don’t want to leave you too weak for the fight…”

“Trust me, cariño. I am a professional, after all.” Lucanis chuckled, already undoing his armor enough to give his fiancé access to his neck. He tilted his head in invitation.

Rook’s eyes glowed with that hungry golden light. He tangled his fingers in Lucanis’ hair and pulled him forward to kiss his neck. The assassin’s eyes fluttered shut in anticipation, but he didn’t need to wait long. Rook’s fangs sunk deep into his skin, and both of them moaned as quietly as they could. Lucanis had to cover his own mouth to muffle it. With each gulp of blood the mage took, he felt his confidence grow. They were going to make it out alive. They were going to get married and live together in Treviso, driving the Antaam out of Antiva and celebrating with the finest coffee from Café Pietra.

When Lucanis felt he was on the edge of it being too much, he gently pushed Rook away. The mage released him with a whimper, but ran his tongue over the wound to clean off any remaining blood before he pulled away. Lucanis hummed in pleasure and opened his eyes. “Careful, mi amor.” He teased, “Any more of that and I might just have to take you right here and now.” There was a flash of violet in his eyes to show Spite’s approval of the idea.

Rook’s face flushed at the images that conjured, and he licked his lips. As if on cue, the building shook once again. “If only we had time.” The mage teased back and cast a quick healing spell over Lucanis’ neck.

The assassin stepped back enough to redo his armor. “We’ll just have to save it for the after party. I did bring our favorite dagger.”

More images flashed in Rook’s mind and he was sure his face was beet red. Lucanis chuckled as the mage tried to calm himself before they rejoined the others.

---

It was time for the final push. While their allies held off Elgar’nan’s forces on the ground, the Veilguard was going to climb up to the Archon’s palace to end things once and for all. Taash volunteered to stay back with Isabela to help their forces. They seemed interested in seeing the Bull’s Chargers in action.

Climbing up a blighted tendril was just as horrible as it sounded. It was squishy and wriggled like trying to climb vines made of snakes. “You know…” Rook said with a grunt. “You could fly us up there, Lucanis.”

“And miss out on this great exercise?” The assassin was having a much easier time of it than Rook, but he still looked as disgusted as the mage felt. “Besides, I can’t carry all of you at once.”

“Maybe with Assan’s help you can.” Rook countered. The griffon squawked from the air at hearing his name.

Rook risked looking back at their allies below. He could still make out several distinct groups as they prepared the barricades. The Hero of Ferelden stood at the head of one squad that appeared to consist of Anders, Nathaniel, Gillian, Shale, Zevran, and the hornless “Not-Arishok-Anymore” Qunari. Morrigan and Kieran stood nearby as well. Beside them was The Iron Bull and his Chargers, with Taash standing between Bull and Krem. Dorian, Cole, and Sera took positions near them as well, all standing behind Inquisitor Lavellan. Lastly he recognized Fenris and Carver standing with Isabela. 

They all stood tall against the horde of Venatori and Antaam that loomed over them from the other side of the barricades. Rook had to trust that his allies were prepared for this. He turned his attention back to climbing with another grunt. He reached out for the next vine, only to realize in horror that it wasn’t blight he had grabbed, but a leg . He recoiled in horror and lost his grip on the already slick roots. “Shit, shit, shit, shit– fuck! ”

He felt himself falling back, but was quickly caught by a pair of sturdy, familiar arms. “Mierda, Rook. Did you want to be carried up that badly?” Lucanis teased him, Spite’s wings beating behind him to keep him steady in the air.

Rook quickly wrapped his arms around Lucanis’ neck for stability. “Just… you know… testing your reflexes.”

“Mhm.” Lucanis shook his head and flew up to the top with Rook so they could wait for the others.

“I am never complaining about ziplines again.” Rook mumbled as he was set down.

Rook helped Emmrich up as the others got to the top, but as he did he heard the Archdemon roar and a wolf yelp. He turned in time to see the Dread Wolf get tossed into the wall like a rag doll. The impact shook the structure, and the mage almost lost his footing. Lucanis caught him and Emmrich in time. The other three weren’t so lucky.

“Bellara!” Rook reached for her since she was closest to him, but she slipped before he could grab her. The tendrils writhed beneath them, ironically catching Neve, Bellara, and Davrin and saving them from falling to their deaths.

Bellara scrambled quickly to her feet. “It’s okay! There’s gotta be another way up!”

The Archdemon’s head poked through the hole in the building it had thrown the Wolf from, trying to get its jaws around him. Solas slashed its face, knocking its head back and far too close for Rook’s comfort. The three men ducked so they weren’t crushed by the dragon. Thankfully after that attack the dragon withdrew its head and the Wolf jumped after it.

At this rate, maybe Solas would be too weak to complete his ritual after they kill Elgar’nan? One could hope. Rook led the rest of his team forward, climbing up one more wall before they reached solid ground. What awaited them, of course, was more darkspawn.

“I never want to see another darkspawn as long as I live.” Rook complained as he hurled a ball of fire at a group of ghouls. If there was one good thing about fighting endless waves of darkspawn, however, it was that the blight seemed to sour Voracity’s appetite. The trio continued through more blight and rubble, meanwhile catching glimpses of the Dread Wolf’s continued battle with the Archdemon.

Eventually they made it high enough to finally see their destination. “The throne room.” Rook placed a hand on his hip as he spoke. “Knowing Elgar’nan, we’ll find him there. Then he’ll probably make some big speech about ruling the world.”

“Long winded speeches are an assassin’s best friend.” Lucanis mused as he stood by Rook.

The mage continued ahead, glancing uneasily at the bodies of magisters twisted up in the blight like Bellara had been. These guys, though, seemed much less responsive. Movement ahead of them made the trio stop, and Lucanis stepped protectively in front of Rook.

Thankfully, it was good news. Bellara and the others pushed through blight blocking a doorway. The elf spotted Rook and smiled. “Rook!”

Relief flooded the Watcher as the group reconverged. “You made it, thank Andraste!”

Bellara’s smile faded quickly. She didn’t bring good news. “Elgar’nan’s using the magisters to control the blight, just like he used me. They’re directing all of it at Solas. He won’t make it without our help!”

“How can you tell?”

The elven mage glanced up at the shifting blight tendrils above them. “I can still feel it… hear it…”

“The blight?” Rook followed her gaze. As if on cue, the Archdemon flew overhead and dropped the Dread Wolf in the waiting mass of tentacles. They coiled around him as he cried out in pain, the sound practically penetrating Rook’s heart. He sounded exactly like a real wolf, injured and afraid. Some of the most heartbreaking sounds in the world as far as Rook was concerned.

Rook took a step towards the Wolf, but Bellara held her hand out to stop him. “I’ll help Solas, just get to the throne room!” 

Rook glanced behind him to the golden doors at the far end of the room, though more masses of blight roots. He had to trust that Bellara could do this. After one last look at the Dread Wolf–having now freed himself from the blight and was tearing into the roots with his powerful jaws–Rook called for the others to follow him. They barely dodged dragon fire as they leaped from an edge and tumbled down the blight tendrils.

Lucanis helped Rook to his feet, and the mage looked up from where they’d fallen. Bellara, Neve, and Davrin were still up top. It seemed the other two held back to continue to keep Bellara safe. They nodded to each other and then took off in opposite ways. Not ten paces later Rook spotted the Wolf again, climbing up the side of the building. The Archdemon swooped in and picked him up in its jaws, making him howl in pain. Blood, so much blood, dripped from the dragon’s mouth as he flew up high and took Solas with him.

Rook’s heart pounded and his own blood ran cold. If Solas couldn’t defeat the Archdemon, all of this would be for naught.

“Rook!” Emmrich’s voice brought his fellow Necromancer out of his thoughts and back into the fray. It wasn’t much longer before they reached the throne room.

It was time to end this.

Just before Rook could open the door however, he heard the Wolf’s cries of pain once again. He stepped back just in time to see him be tossed into more blighted roots, this time they entangled him so thoroughly he could barely move. The mage watched in horror as even the wolf’s face was covered by the blight.

“Solas!” Rook couldn’t hold back the genuine fear and concern in his voice. Damn it all, he did care for the Dread Wolf despite everything that lying son of a bitch had done to him. As a friend, a mentor, a guiding voice…

He watched helplessly as Bellara fought her way through the blight to get to Solas. He wasn’t sure exactly how, but he felt her magic push through the blight–almost as if she was commanding it to fall away. Solas was freed, and relief washed over Rook’s features. “I’ve got this!” Bellara shouted. “Go!”

Rook didn’t need more encouragement. He turned and pushed through the gilded doors and into the throne room.

Notes:

And thus Lucanis, Anders, and Rook form the ASG (Abomination Support Group).

Special shout out the soundtracks of Final Fantasies 8 & 10 for providing the perfect writing ambiance.

If anyone's curious, here's my version of Kieran (I reject the canon design from Inquisition SO HARD):
https://bsky.app/profile/ladyliddell.bsky.social/post/3lfrayhr4622j

Also, I have pictures of Lysandre posted there as well. I love my boys~

Translation:
"Te amo más de lo que jamás podrías imaginar." // "I love you more than you could ever imagine."

Chapter 30: The Final Battle

Summary:

The final battle against Elgar'nan has arrived at last; Rook must decide how to deal with Solas

Notes:

Me, checking my list of planned cameos: Okay, looks like I got everyone I wante--OH GEEZ I FORGOT BLACKWALL AGAIN!

Listen, I love him as a character and I love the twist in his story, but I just keep forgetting he exists. (At least I'm not as bad as my friend who got to the Wicked Grace scene and was like "wait, where's Blackwall?" and realized she forgot to go finish his quest)

Rook was right about the big speech, of course. The wannabe god started talking before they even saw him. Something something, “world’s creator”. Did he just claim to be the Maker? That was a disturbing thought. The man himself, whom Rook might have once considered handsome, had dropped the glamour and appeared as his true blighted self. His sister’s death had shaken him hard. Good.

“Every pointed spire and warding enchantment in this city is a child’s unwitting imitation of the empire I built.” Elgar’nan was saying. “I would have restored the glory your lives are too brief to remember.”

Rook scoffed, holding the lyrium dagger tight in his hand. “I saw D’Meta’s Crossing, and Weisshaupt, and everywhere else you've ‘left your mark.’ I didn’t see any glory.” He took a bold step forward. “All I saw was a tyrant destroying everything he touches.”

It was the Evanuris’ turn to scoff. “You mistake discipline for cruelty, a failing amongst those who lack a master’s gentle guidance. We only destroyed because you resisted. In the new empire…”

As Elgar’nan kept talking, Rook rolled his eyes and mimicked a mouth flapping with his hand, completely tuning him out. “You sure love the sound of your own voice, don’t you? I swear, you talk more than Solas.” Rook smirked, knowing that should strike a nerve.

It did. The blighted elf stood with a snarl, his white hot glare burning into Rook. “Your insolence will not be tolerated any longer, wolfling!” He said through gritted teeth as he raised his arms and began to float, electrified magical energy charging around him. “I’ll make sure your death is slow and painful so the Dread Wolf can have one last regret before he joins you.”

He surged forward, but everyone managed to dodge out of the way as he flew to the center of the arena. This was it. Lucanis leaped up into the air and circled above to find his opening. To keep the god’s attention off of the assassin, Rook got in close to try and get a few hits in with his mageknife. The god teleported out of reach in a flash of violet electricity, and the Watcher fadestepped back away from it so as not to get hit by the residual energy.

At this point in the fight, they were just stalling for time. They could weaken him all they wanted, but until Solas killed that Archdemon, Elgar’nan was unkillable. Rook hadn’t seen or heard any signs of him or the dragon yet. That was concerning.

Elgar’nan kept talking as he charged up his next spell, but Rook wasn’t listening. The mage’s hairs stood on end, signaling he was in the blast zone of the god’s lightning. He fadestepped back again just as the spell was unleashed. Rook realized that they didn’t have a warrior with them to absorb hits and take Elgar’nan’s attention away from the mages so they could concentrate on their spells. Maybe Rook should have paid more attention when Davrin was trying to explain “party composition” to him before.

Lucanis took his opportunity and dove knife-first towards the god’s back. He managed to slice through a gap in the elf’s armor as he landed, and with a flourish he spun using his leftover momentum to get another strike at Elgar’nan’s leg.

Rook could admire the way Lucanis fought all day. He almost made it seem like a dance. Focus, Rook . The blighted god snarled and teleported across the floor again. He hurled more lightning towards Lucanis now, who was able to dodge it with expertly timed flips. 

They kept wearing him down like that. Rook coming in close to hurl shockwaves of necrotic energy from his mageknife at the elf, and Lucanis timing his strikes for as soon as the god’s attention was drawn elsewhere. Emmrich, meanwhile, was focused on barriers and healing. And keeping as far away from Elgar’nan as possible.

And still, the god. Kept. Talking. Rook groaned in frustration as he hurled another ball of necrotic magic at him. “Would you shut the fuck up already?!” At some point they had gotten Elgar’nan to land. No longer floating, he was much easier for Lucanis and Rook to hit. As the god stumbled back, they both raced forward to take advantage.

Just before they could reach him, however, his Archdemon reared its massive head over the wall. The force of wind from its wings was enough to knock the men back away from Elgar’nan. Following shortly behind it was Solas… but something was very wrong. Large bloody wounds covered the Wolf, and his movements were sluggish. Blight quickly enveloped him, leaving him helpless as the Archdemon slammed its claws into his back to pin him down. Panic started to build up in Rook’s chest. Where were Bellara and the others?

“The Dread Wolf cannot save you, wolfling.” Elgar’nan taunted, eyes twinkling in mad delight at Solas’ suffering. “He cannot even save himself.” He turned back to Rook with a smug smile. “Now you understand that none may stand against me. Those who try…” His magic shifted, and the Watcher could sense his wounds already closing. “Stand alone.”

Once again Elgar’nan began to float, and he raised his hand to charge up a new spell. Emmrich and Rook shot magic bolts towards him, but they all bounced off some new barrier he’d summoned. Lucanis backed off so he could reconsider his strategy.

And Elgar’nan. Kept. Talking. “I am the lord of the day and the night! Yield to me and I will show you mercy!” With an explosion of magic, he covered the arena in darkness. Rook was blown back, but he quickly recovered. He couldn’t see his companions–or Elgar’nan–at all. Even his magical senses felt hindered. The glow coming from his orb and dagger barely penetrated the blackness around him at all.

One of the few things he could see was the bright blue glow of the Dread Wolf’s pained eyes. Rook kept his head on a swivel, turning towards every muffled sound he could hear until he was almost dizzy. “Lucanis!” He called out, hoping to at least be able to see the glow of Spite’s beautiful purple wings. "Emmrich!"

“Look at you. Your failures.” Elgar’nan taunted him, his cutting deep into Rook’s head. The mage winced, the hesitation enough for the god to suddenly appear to his left and bring his sword down hard, clearly aiming for his head. Rook managed to sidestep it just enough so it only sliced his arm. He hissed in pain and lost his magic orb as it sputtered pathetically into nothing. Elgar’nan was gone as quickly as he appeared, but he kept talking. “You failed to save the Wardens at Weisshaupt. You fled in terror at Arlathan.”

“And then we killed Ghilan’nain.” Rook spat out defiantly. He saw the sparks of magic to his right and this time was able to fadestep out of the blade’s reach. It hit the ground so hard it cracked the stone. The god didn’t disappear this time, instead he kept pushing forward with his swings and forcing Rook back.

“You have nothing.” Elgar’nan growled between swings, electricity arcing and hitting Rook even as he dodged the blade. “No army. No dragon. No thralls.”

Rook was starting to sweat, which wasn’t a good combo with lightning spells. His wounded arm throbbed in pain, but he was able to conjure enough energy to bring his orb back so he could start sending counterattacks towards the god’s glowing form. “I’ve got a team. And that’s all I need!”

He still couldn’t see Lucanis or Emmrich. He risked reaching into his pouch for a healing potion, but even that small divergence of his attention from Elgar’nan was enough of an opening for him to catch him off guard. “I have bound the souls of dragons.” The god’s glowing blade caught Rook’s hand, making him drop the potion and watch as it shattered across the stone. But the elf didn’t let up. He was so fast it felt like there were multiple copies of him all trying to cut Rook in half. Every time he tried to dodge one way, he’d end up in the arc of a different blade. “I have slain Titans and broken the will of gods!”

One swing caught Rook’s side good, causing him to cry out and fall to a knee. He held his hand to his side as blood soaked through his coat. He glared up into the darkness with four glowing golden eyes. “You haven’t broken me!” He shouted, taking a moment to cast a quick healing spell to try and stop the bleeding at his side.

Suddenly, just as he managed to stand back up, the mage was caught in a spiral of red magic. Blood magic. The darkness faded and Rook saw Elgar’nan in front of him, his hand outstretched to hold the Watcher in place. 

“You will kneel.” Elgar’nan demanded, and Rook’s body had no choice but to comply. On either side of Rook were Emmrich and Lucanis, both under the same hold. Spite’s wings beat defiantly, but this wasn’t anywhere near Illario’s feeble attempt at blood magic control. This was bad.

Rook’s eyes darted around him, trying to find an opening. Some weakness he could exploit. Out of the corner of his vision he spotted Bellara. There’s the opening. Now Rook just had to keep Elgar’nan talking to focus his attention. That wasn’t going to be hard to do. “Goddamned… blighted… cock sucking… nug of a dragon!” Rook channeled his inner Taash to find the most nonsensical insult he could think of.

Lucanis actually turned to Rook with a questioning eyebrow, to which the mage just shrugged. 

Elgar’nan was unphased. “Come, now.” His tone was that of a tired parent trying to soothe a tantrum. “You did as well as anyone could have, but you cannot deny the truth.”

“What, that you’re an ugly bastard? No, I’m not denying that. You really let yourself go over the last thousand years.” Rook continued to goad him.

Lucanis looked panicked, silently asking what the hell his fiance was thinking when he too spotted Bellara. She had some manner of control over the blight now and was using it to clear her way to the throne. The Crow decided to join in. “It’s true… black really isn’t your color.”

Elgar’nan’s fist clenched, which sent a wave of pain through the three men and drew them closer to the ground. “I believe I just thought of a better use for you, little wolfling.” The god said as he took slow, deliberate steps towards them. “I won’t kill you. No, that would be a mercy, which you have already reached my limit of. Instead… I’ll keep you alive to witness my new world.” He stopped in front of Rook, bending down to grip the mage’s jaw and force him to look up. “After all, I’ll need a new pet once Solas is finally disposed of.”

The Archdemon’s talons dug into the Dread Wolf, making him whimper for emphasis.

Rook struggled against both the magic and the elf’s grip. From this close he could smell the blight and rot permeating from Elgar’nan’s body. He scrunched his face in disgust. “Please, your stench is torture enough.” His tone remained defiant despite how hard his heart was beating in his chest.

Elgar’nan chuckled and released his grip on Rook, standing up straight and looking down at the mage with pity in his eyes. “Your stubbornness is almost admirable, but I know exactly what will break you.” He turned his attention to Lucanis.

“Stay. Away. From. Rook!” Spite growled through Lucanis, their wings stretched out as far as they could reach as if that would make them appear more intimidating. “You are. UNWORTHY. Of touching him!”

“How cute.” Was all Elgar’nan said as he stepped towards the demon. In a flash of movement he grabbed Lucanis by the throat and raised him from the ground. Spite’s wings sputtered out of existence as he tried to kick and scratch at the god’s arm.

“Lucanis!” Rook’s eyes glowed again, his claws digging at the ground below him helplessly as he used all his strength to try and break free of this blood magic hold.

Bellara had reached the throne. With determination sparking in her now red eyes, she took her seat and let the blight envelop her. 

She raised her arm, and her voice echoed around them as if the blight was carrying it itself. “Release them.”

Elgar’nan didn’t even turn around, his eyes focused on the squirming human in his hand. “I gave you this power, child.” He said as his grip tightened.

Lucanis’ vision was starting to go dark, his movements slowing, but there was a spark of power and stubborn defiance that jolted through him like lightning. Spite. He pulled out a knife hidden at his side and drove it deep into the god’s arm through a weak spot in his armor. Elgar’nan grunted in pain and his grip loosened enough for the assassin to fall to the ground. He coughed hard and put his hand to his throat, attempting to push himself up with his other hand but lacking the strength for it.

Bellara and Elgar’nan were clearly battling for control. She must have been putting up a hell of a fight, because the god had actually shut up for the first time in this whole battle. “You are not my god.” She said through gritted teeth, and with a final push of her magic she managed to free Solas from the blighted roots that held him.

The Dread Wolf wasted no time. As soon as he was freed, he threw the dragon’s claws off of him and leaped up to tear out its throat.

Her mission completed, Bellara’s hand fell to her lap and exhaustion overcame her features. She gave in as the blight wound around her like a cocoon.

“Bellara!” Rook still couldn’t move. His eyes darted from Bellara to Lucanis, to Solas helplessly.

“Impossible!” Elgar’nan forgot his spell as he turned with burning rage in his eyes towards the Dread Wolf. “No! You will not!” He shouted as if a petulant child.

Rook fell forward onto his hands as soon as he was released. He winced in pain, the impact sending shockwaves through his wounds, but he didn’t care about himself. He and Emmrich rushed to Lucanis to help him up off the ground.

The Crow’s neck was badly bruised in the shape of Elgar’nan’s hand, but he was still breathing. Both the mages cast healing spells to get him back in fighting shape.

The Dread Wolf violently jerked his head away from the dragon, tearing out a chunk of its neck with him. The Archdemon roared in pain and flailed, which only brought more blood rushing to the open wound. What would dragon blood taste like, Voracity growled in hunger.

Elgar’nan sank to his knees, crying out in helpless rage as his bonded dragon went limp and the life drained from its eyes.

Fen’Harel was standing proudly over his kill, and once the dragon took its final breath, his form began to shrink in a swirl of blue magic until he was once again an elf. “You… are mortal, Elgar’nan.” Solas said with a wicked smirk. He was broken and bloody, but in his eyes was only the sweet satisfaction of victory. “Enjoy it while it lasts.”

Rage radiated as fire from the once-god. “If you will not bow…” He rose to his feet slowly and turned his attention back to Rook, Lucanis, and Emmrich. “You will burn!”

A squawk from the air announced the presence of the griffon just before he swooped down and sliced Elgar’nan’s face with his talon. The god snarled and tried to grab at him, but Assan was already back in the air.

Ice erupted from the ground underneath the elf’s feet, causing him to stumble back with a grunt. Neve spun her staff with a flourish as she got his attention. “It’s about time you get out of my city!”

Davrin and Neve joined the fight, distracting the angry god long enough for Lucanis to put some distance between him and the enemy so he could chug a health potion. Rook, meanwhile, straightened up and rolled his shoulders until they popped. His fingers flexed, and he took a deep breath. When he next opened his eyes, they were glowing bright gold and fixed on Elgar’nan. He took off running, gaining momentum until he could leap up on top of the god. His form shimmered and shifted to that of a thin, twin-tailed white wolf. He was nowhere near as big as Fen’Harel, but still much bigger than a normal wolf. Body colliding with Elgar’nan’s from behind, he sunk his claws in deep to get a good grip and clamped his jaw down hard around his neck.

His blood tasted vile. It was enough to get the mage to release his grip enough to be thrown off of Elgar’nan as the god spun around in a rage. Rook managed to land on his feet, snarling as black blood dripped from his mouth. He’d hoped he could at least puncture the god’s vocal cords so he’d stop talking.

Rook wasn’t that lucky.

The team played a game of trying to get Elgar’nan’s attention so the others could get their hits in, meanwhile dodging the frantic fire spells the elf threw out around him. At one point, Rook was thrown back towards where Solas still lay on the ground. His attention turned away from the fight to briefly check over the elf’s wounds.

“I am… fine.” Solas insisted, though his heavy breathing suggested otherwise. “Focus on Elgar’nan.”

Rook hesitated, then raised a paw to rest it on the Dread Wolf’s back. Even in this form he was able to channel his magic enough for a healing spell, green energy spiraling around him and Solas to give the elf enough strength to at least stand.

Solas looked up at Rook, unable to hide his shock behind his usual mask. There was something else in his eyes, a flash of something so brief Rook might have missed it had he not known Fen’Harel as well as he did. Regret. Confirmation that this would end in yet another betrayal. “Thank you…”

Rook didn’t say anything in return. Instead, he turned and jumped back into the fight. The others had worn Elgar’nan down enough that Rook could see an opening he couldn’t afford to miss. He shifted back into his human form in a flash of brilliant golden light, lyrium dagger in hand, and swung it as hard as he could towards the elven god.

Elgar’nan met the attack with the half-finished red lyrium dagger. Red and blue magic sparked from the connection as the two pressed forward, trying to overpower the other. But while Elgar’nan’s strength was failing him, Rook felt a surge of power spreading through him like fire. Four golden eyes glared up at Elgar’nan, and that gnawing hunger inside the mage, instead of sapping his strength with pain, it seemed to lash out from him.

Rook arced his weapon down, using Elgar’nan’s own forward momentum to cause him to stumble. Without hesitation, the mage first slashed the god’s arm to make him lose his grip on the dagger–just like Lucanis showed him. Then he sliced deep across Elgar’nan’s throat, finally shutting him up for good.

The Watcher stepped back as the wannabe god struggled for breath, falling to his knees and grasping at his throat as if he could stop the bleeding. His strength failed him, and he rolled onto his back as his body went limp. Dead.

 

Finally.

But it wasn’t over.

 

Magic exploded out of Elgar’nan’s body as the final anchor holding the Veil in place snapped. Rook wasn’t able to get a barrier up in time and was sent flying back, hitting the ground hard and losing his grip on the dagger. His vision blurred, but he could feel the shift in the air. The red tint of the forced eclipse faded, and the blight started to retreat. Rook pushed himself up onto his elbow and shook his head to clear his senses.

“It is done.” He heard Solas’ voice from behind him, and he shifted so he could look up at the still wounded Dread Wolf. “The world owes you a debt. Both for defeating Elgar’nan…” he turned to look at the rifts opening up behind him, “...and for bringing down the Veil.”

Rook saw this coming, so he didn’t feel that same rush of betrayal that he had when Solas stuck him in the Fade prison. Heck, his expectations were so low that he didn’t even feel disappointed. All he could do was shake his head and laugh weakly.

“I… am sorry for this final betrayal.” The god of lies, treachery, and rebellion said as he limped down the stairs towards the lyrium dagger that lay across from Rook. “But I will do what I can to minimize the damage. When you see the old world restored…”

Rook pushed himself up, his body protesting with every movement. Solas raised a hand to draw the dagger to him with magic. No. With one last surge of defiant energy, the Watcher managed to leap forward into the path of the blade and grab it in mid-air. He hit the ground hard and held it clutched tightly to his chest.

“Please, Lysandre.” Solas sounded pained, and not just from his wounds. He was just as tired of this game as Rook was. “I do not wish to fight against you.” Now they were back to how this all started, except this time it was Rook standing where Varric stood.

Rook had a choice. His final choice. The fake lyrium dagger dug into his side where it was concealed under his armor, taunting him with what could arguably be the easy way out of this. Solas wouldn’t suspect Rook would trick him, it wasn’t part of his character. That was the only reason why this crazy plan could work, because Solas thought of him as straightforward, diplomatic, and open.

On the other hand, Cole’s words echoed in the back of his mind. “You can still help him, Rook.”

Curse his bleeding heart.

Rook slowly pushed himself to his feet, wincing from the pain. “I don’t want to fight you, either…” he said, and that was the truth. He turned to Solas, dagger in hand, and took a step forward. “But I don’t want to see the world go through any more pain on top of what Elgar’nan has done. Do you?”

Solas looked down, unable to meet the Watcher’s eyes. “This world is broken, Lysandre. Because of my mistakes.”

“Yeah, it is.” Rook winced and held a hand to his side. “I wish I could have seen it… the world the way you described it. It sounds truly beautiful…” he paused until the Wolf met his eyes again, “but Solas… breaking the world again isn’t how you make it right.”

“Letting the Veil collapse–”

“Is what you want.” Rook raised his voice, not out of anger, but rather passion. “Making amends isn’t about what you want. We are here. We are real. And if you go through with this, you’re just repeating the exact same mistakes you made all those millennia ago.”

Solas averted his eyes again. “I…” Rook could see the conflict on his face, which only gave the mage hope.

“You have a chance right now to save the world.” The Watcher held up the dagger. “Bind yourself to the Veil and stop it from falling.” His voice cracked from emotion.

Solas met Rook’s eyes, then looked down at the dagger. Slowly, he raised his hand so the Watcher’s trembling fingers could place it gently into his palm. Every fiber of Rook’s body screamed not to do this, not to trust him. He killed Varric. He manipulated Rook with blood magic. He trapped him in the Fade. He severed the Titan’s dreams and created the Blight.

And yet, Rook lowered his hand as Solas held the dagger delicately as if it were made of glass. The elf looked up at Rook, tears mixing with fresh blood from a cut across his eye. He didn’t say anything, only turned to walk back up the stairs towards the rifts.

The Watcher’s heart pounded in his chest as he watched the Dread Wolf climb the stairs, eyes still cast down at the dagger. For a brief moment Rook had hope that he didn’t even need to use Mythal’s essence, that perhaps he finally was able to break through to him.

But then Solas gripped the blade tight in his hand and lowered it to his side. “I cannot.” He said, and Rook felt his heart break all over again. “To stop now would dishonor those I have wronged to come this far.” He raised his arm to ready the blade to finish his ritual, but a new voice made him freeze.

“Even if those you’ve wronged asked you to stop?” Her voice was gentle, loving even now. Nova Lavellan stepped past Rook, taking a few steps up the stairs towards her Wolf. Her hair had come undone in the battle, platinum blonde strands now cascading freely down her shoulders.

Conflicting emotions swirled in Solas’ already tearful eyes. Pain, joy, love, regret… he lowered the blade, and his voice came out in a ragged breath. “Vhenan…”

“You think you’ve gone too far to come back, but you’re wrong…” The Inquisitor took another step towards him. He didn’t move away. “I am here, walking the dinan’shiral with you!”

Solas looked like he both wanted to run to her and embrace her and to run away from her reach at the same time. “I… lied. I betrayed you.”

“I forgive you!” Nova put a hand to her heart, and Rook realized she was wearing something he’d never noticed before. Around her neck was a jawbone pendant. A wolf’s jawbone. “All you have to do is stop.” She pleaded with him.

Solas bowed his head, unable to keep her gaze. “Ir abelas, vhenan…” when he next looked up, his eyes were cold. Closed off. Devoid of any emotion that could tie him to this world. “But I cannot.” He turned his back to them as he continued. “Long before we met, I failed my oldest friend. She died for that failure.”

Rook and Nova slowly ascended the stairs. The Watcher wanted to argue, wanted to point out that it wasn’t just his failure. But hearing that from Lysandre Ingellvar wasn’t going to change anything. There was only one person whose voice could make those words feel real.

Solas continued, glancing back at the two–the last of his friends. “If I leave the Veil in place, I am destroying the world she wanted. And I will have…” he hesitated, the words catching in his throat. “She will have died for nothing.” He turned, once again raising the dagger high.

Rook’s fingers twitched, and his claws extended quietly. He didn’t want to do this, but if it came down to it he would give his life to save this world. To save Lucanis. To save Spite. If they didn’t get through to Solas, he would sink his fangs as deep into his neck as they would go. Sorry, Inquisitor.

Before he had to make that choice, he heard a familiar cawing. He relaxed his stance, his claws vanishing, as Morrigan took her human form in a flurry of feathers to stand behind Solas. “And whose fault is that, Dread Wolf?” She asked, her voice as smooth and calm as ever.

“Morrigan?” Solas was confused, momentarily distracted as he lowered the blade again and turned to her.

“One appellation among many I wear.” Morrigan smiled knowingly as she casually stepped closer to Fen’Harel. “I have been advisor to Orlais, Witch of the Wilds, Daughter of Flemeth, Wife of the Hero of Ferelden…” her voice softened, lowering slightly and becoming more sincere. “And once, long ago, an old friend.”

For once, Solas said nothing. He just stared at Morrigan with pain in his eyes. Rook pulled the fragment of Mythal out of his pack as he and Nova stepped up beside Morrigan. “Mythal lives on in her…” Rook said, and then gingerly held up the fragment to the Witch. “...and in this.”

Morrigan breathed in deep and took the fragment. Instantly magic began to swirl around her form as she closed her eyes and held it close to her.

Solas gasped and took a step back as the spirit of Mythal manifested from Morrigan, standing proudly just as she appeared in the Fade. He couldn’t meet her eyes. “Mythal…”

“I pulled you from the Fade you loved and sent you into war. I used your wisdom as a weapon… and it broke you.” Mythal spoke plainly, but Rook could detect the pain in her voice.

Solas didn’t dare look up. His hands trembled at his sides as if the weight of all of his regrets came crashing down on him at once. “The things that I have done…”

“Are not for you alone to bear, my friend.” Mythal walked towards him, and Rook noticed a single tear fall from her cheek. “The many wrongs we did, we did together.”

Solas held his arms tight to himself. He looked like a frightened animal, trembling and curled up into himself as if it would make him disappear. Rook had never seen him so vulnerable, so submissive… so broken.

Mythal placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, “I release you from my service.” She said, and it felt like long held chains had suddenly, finally, been unshackled.

Solas sobbed and fell to his knees as Mythal’s spirit dissolved into the air.

Rook felt like he wanted to collapse as well as his adrenaline from the fight began to wear off. It was over. It was finally, truly over.

The Inquisitor quickly came to kneel by the Dread Wolf’s side. “Banal nadas. Ar lath ma, vhenan.” She spoke gently in elven, reaching out with her prosthetic hand to let it rest comfortingly on Solas’ shoulder.

He turned into her and buried his face against her shoulder. She held him close as he trembled from held back sobs. After a moment, he was able to compose himself enough to stand–with the Inquisitor’s help. Taking a deep, shaky breath, his gaze scanned those around him, and then turned back to the rifts behind him. When he turned back, he closed his eyes and raised his hand. He made a quick, shallow cut in his palm and then squeezed it shut as his blood seeped through his fingers.

“My life force now sustains the Veil.” Solas said quietly, his voice strained from crying and weary from emotion. He looked at Rook with tired, yet resolved eyes. “With every breath I take, I will protect the innocent from my past failures. The Titans’ dreams are mad from their imprisonment. I cannot kill the blight, but I can help soothe its anger.” Solas smiled, a fragile, yet genuine thing. He held the dagger out for Rook to take.

Rook looked from the dagger to Solas and back. There was no more treachery, no more lies. Fresh tears fell down the Watcher’s cheeks as he took the weapon from the Dread Wolf. “Solas…” he choked on his own words. There were still so many things he wanted to say, but none of them came out.

“I will go and seek atonement,” Solas’ voice grew stronger with resolve, and he straightened his posture to how Rook was used to seeing him hold himself. Turning towards the rift, he stepped towards them with purpose.

There was no hesitation in her steps as the Inquisitor moved to follow him. “But you do not have to go alone.” She said, and as he turned to look back at her she took both of his hands in hers.

“Ar ghilas vir banal.” Solas’ voice was pained, yet gentle. The way he looked at Nova reminded Rook of how Lucanis looked at him. Pure, unfiltered love.

“Tel banal ar ama. Vir shiral malasa, bellanaris.” Nova’s eyes held that same love as she pulled him into a long awaited kiss. He eagerly returned it, more tears filling his eyes as he raised one hand to cup her cheek and hold her there as if she would also dissolve as Mythal’s form had.

Rook felt like he was watching something he wasn’t supposed to, so he looked down at the dagger in his hand as his ears burned. Still, it was almost like he felt his own heart mending as he witnessed the same happening to the two of them. Hope radiated from them, an infectious feeling that made the Watcher want to sing. He didn’t, though.

“Thank you, Lysandre. Rook.” Solas’ voice made the mage look up again, and the genuine smile he saw on the elf’s face made him smile, too.

Rook’s reply caught in his throat, and he missed his chance to say a final goodbye as Nova Lavellan and Solas turned to walk into the rift. As they vanished into the Fade, the sky began to clear. The tears healed, and the sun’s rays peeked through the clouds, bathing them in orange light.

Rook felt a hand on his shoulder, and he turned to see Lucanis by his side. The Crow was bloody and bruised–though Rook probably didn’t look any better–but as he smiled the Watcher only saw him as the most beautiful being in existence.

They had a moment of quiet, but then they heard a cracking sound behind them. They all turned towards the throne, now covered in dead, blackened roots. Hope swelled in Rook’s chest just as he saw a delicate hand push through. The rest of the blight gave way and Bellara fell forward onto her hands and knees.

Rook smiled wide and ran to her, though the others got there first. Neve helped her to her feet, and she blinked into the sun. It looked like… the blight had completely left her system? The Watcher wasn’t going to question miracles, so instead he pulled her into a tight hug. She was alive. Rook hadn’t lost another friend that day.

Now all that was left… was to find a way back down.

Notes:

And thus ends the final battle! I have one final chapter planned as an epilogue of sorts to wrap things up, and I mean it this time! I hope I was able to make this interesting, though I know I used a lot of in game dialogue this chapter. Thank you all for sticking with me this far! I never would have had the motivation to finish without all the kind comments and support!

Special shoutout to a certain reader for "nug of a dragon" 🤭

Chapter 31: Smells Like... Home

Summary:

Spite, Rook, and Lucanis celebrate their victory with a night of passion; the Veilguard goes their separate ways

Notes:

I can't believe it... here it is, the final chapter. This is my first time ever finishing a multi-chapter fic. Thank you all so much for your comments and kudos! I wouldn't have made it this far without them! I originally wanted this to be a much slower burn, but then Rook got kidnapped and Lucanis wasn't going to waste any more time brooding. Still, I'm proud of how this turned out.

Have some smut. As a treat.

Rook groaned as he stepped into his and Lucanis’ designated room. Miraculously, the Cobbled Swan had managed to survive largely intact, and the owners insisted the Veilguard rest there for the evening, on the house. They had gotten what the owner called the “honeymoon suite”. It was apparently the nicest room in the tavern. Rook believed it. The bed took up most of the space, large enough for several people and piled high with furs and silk pillows.

The group had descended the decaying blight roots to a roaring crowd cheering for them. As good as it felt to know they had saved so many lives, Rook still felt awkward under all that praise and attention. He was more than happy to use the excuse of tending to his wounds to leave the celebrations early. Lucanis, feeling the same, was practically glued to his side the entire time. They’d be able to check in with everyone after getting some rest.

“You know, I think that is the first time I’ve gotten applause for completing a contract.” Lucanis mused, already stripping out of his blood stained armor to see just how many new scars he’d have come morning.

Rook laughed, but then winced in pain and held his side. Lucanis quickly came over to him to help him peel out of his own armor. Most of his wounds had stopped bleeding, thankfully, but they still needed to be cleaned.

The two shared a bath, but were both too exhausted to think about anything intimate. Even Spite was feeling the fatigue of battle. Instead, they helped each other wash the blood and grime from their bodies and hair before taking a moment to just relax in each other’s arms as they soaked in the warm water.

Eventually, reluctantly, they got out of the tub and dried off and carefully bandaged each other up. Rook didn’t even bother putting anything else on and just flopped down on the bed, naked and humming at the feeling of the soft fur against his skin. There was still plenty of daylight left, and the way the sun shone through the sheer curtains and fell over his aching body like a warm blanket only made him that much sleepier.

Lucanis followed his example and joined him on the bed. He pulled the mage into his arms, one draped over his waist and the other reaching out to cup his face. “This almost doesn’t feel real...” He said quietly and pressed their foreheads together.

Rook nuzzled against Lucanis, humming again and closing his eyes. “I’ll process everything tomorrow. Right now I just want to be right here. ” He cuddled up against his Crow, hands resting against his chest. Their legs tangled together as they found comfort in each other.

They stayed like that for a while, just enjoying each other’s warmth and closeness. Lucanis watched as Rook’s breathing steadied and his body relaxed as he drifted to sleep in the assassin’s arms. He must have been exhausted. So was Lucanis, but he still didn’t want to sleep just yet.

Spite snaked his arms around Rook’s waist and nestled against his back. The mage stirred only slightly, sighing contentedly from the feeling of being held from both sides before he was asleep again.

Lucanis wasn’t sure what was going to come next for them. As long as Caterina lived, he didn’t really have to worry about First Talon business right away. There were other, more urgent questions in the Crow’s mind. Like would Rook join him in Treviso right away? Would it be too presumptuous to assume they’d be living together before being officially married? Did Rook even want to live in Treviso? The mage clearly loved the Grand Necropolis… did Lucanis have any right to ask him to leave his home?

“Lucanis thinks too much.” Spite muttered into Rook’s hair.

“And you think too little.” The Crow responded in a teasing whisper.

Spite stuck their tongue out at him.

Lucanis chuckled, shaking his head slightly. He sighed and laid his head down on one of the silk pillows. “But… you are right.”

“Always right.” Spite raised its head to give Lucanis a smug look.

“I find it incredibly unfair how you can read my mind, but I cannot read yours.”

“Because Spite always says what he’s thinking anyway.” Rook murmured and curled up further into Lucanis’ chest. “You don’t have to read his mind…”

“Lo siento, cariño. I didn't mean to wake you.” Lucanis placed a gentle kiss on his forehead.

“Not asleep…” Rook insisted in the sleepiest voice the Crow had heard from him.

“Let yourself rest.” Lucanis brought a hand up to brush stray hairs from Rook’s face. “You’ve earned it. You did the impossible today.”

“Killing a god?” Rook halfway opened one eye to look at Lucanis. “That’s not special. So did you.”

The assassin chuckled and let his fingers gently massage Rook’s scalp, causing the mage’s eye to flutter closed again. “Not killing a god. You changed a god’s mind. That is far more impressive.”

“I didn’t really do much…” Rook mumbled, eyes still closed. “The Inquisitor and Morrigan–Mythal, whatever–did most of the work…”

“But they had the opportunity because of you, ” Lucanis insisted. “You convinced Mythal to give you her essence without a fight, you inspired the Inquisitor to give Solas another chance, and you chose to put your faith in love instead of force. Truly… I have never been more in awe of you.”

Rook’s eyes opened to meet Lucanis’ loving gaze. “It sounds so corny when you put it like that.” His face was flushed from the praise, but he still smiled. “It was incredibly stupid and risky and if I was wrong, I would have doomed the world. Again.”

“But you weren’t wrong.”

“Lysandre always right.” Spite placed several kisses against the back of Rook’s neck.

Rook briefly closed his eyes against the sensation before looking back at Lucanis. “Okay, okay… if I agree that I did a good job, will you stop with the praise?”

“For now.” The assassin teased, the corners of his mouth raising ever so slightly.

“No.” Spite said at the same time between its kisses.

Rook laughed at the demon’s bluntness, but that laugh turned into a moan when it bit down at the base of his neck, just hard enough to get a reaction. The mage’s body arched into Lucanis, who responded in kind and claimed Rook’s lips with his own. There was a joy inside the mage he hadn’t felt before, stronger than even when they had first gotten together. It was the feeling of being free from the burden of saving the world. They were done, this was it. Now they could enjoy their “happily ever after”.

Then Rook tried to move on top of Lucanis, and was met with a sharp pain in his side. He grit his teeth, hissing as he squeezed his eyes shut. “Fuck…”

Both Spite and Lucanis stopped out of concern. Lucanis pushed himself up onto an elbow so he could inspect if any of Rook’s wounds opened up. They hadn’t, thankfully. “Perhaps we shouldn’t…” The assassin started, but trailed off as he met his mage’s eyes again. Despite the pain, Rook’s skin was already flushed with desire. His eyes pleading not to stop.

“I have. An idea.” Spite said with a wide grin. They leaned forward and whispered something into Rook’s ear. The mage’s eyes widened and he nodded, breathless.

Lucanis raised an eyebrow as he watched Spite reach over Rook to join their hands together. Literally. Spite’s spectral hand sunk into the mage’s, who shivered from the sensation. They raised it together to cup Lucanis’ cheek. A spark of magic surrounded them, sending goosebumps down the assassin’s arms. “What is…” he tried asking, but he was pulled into a kiss before he could finish. He closed his eyes as he felt the room spin, and he clung to the only thing that grounded him–Lysandre.

A familiar tickle played in the back of Lucanis’ eyes, the same one he felt constantly while in the Lighthouse. When the kiss finally broke, he pulled back with wide eyes. “Did you just…?”

“Welcome to my mind.” Rook said as he pulled his hand back to rest it against the Crow’s chest. They were still naked, still in the Cobbled Swan, except the details had shifted. Their bandages were gone, and Lucanis no longer felt the aches left behind from the fight.

It hit him then. Just as Spite had drawn Rook into Lucanis’ head before, now the demon drew Lucanis into Rook’s head. But this time, it wasn’t to help heal trauma. He opened his mouth to say something, but the flick of something purple caught his attention. He glanced behind Rook and couldn’t stop the soft gasp that escaped his lips.

Rook turned to see what Lucanis was staring at, and his eyes widened. Spite was there, which the mage had expected, but what he didn’t expect was the form it took. It was taller now than both of them, its wings resting lazily behind it as it lounged on the bed behind Rook. It still shared Lucanis’ face, but the details were sharper. Its ears were pointed just slightly, its pupils slitted, and the mage saw a flash of fangs in its grin. Four black horns emerged from its hairline and curved back above its head delicately.

Spite hummed as it admired its new form. Its nails were sharpened into claws, all except for two fingers on each hand which were smooth and rounded. “This is what Rook likes?” It asked in a teasing voice, grinning down at the mage. Its spaded tail flicked up to run its tip along Rook’s leg.

Not just Rook, Lucanis swallowed as he took in every new detail. “Mierda…” was all he could say, which made the demon chuckle.

Spite trailed a finger across Rook’s jaw, coaxing the mage to turn to it completely. “So do I.” It practically growled and leaned in to capture the mage’s lips. Rook moaned and melted into Spite’s arms.

Now with nothing holding him back, Lucanis hooked an arm around Rook’s waist and pressed his chest against the mage’s back. He peppered Rook’s neck with kisses, lips trailing up to his jaw and finally to his ear. He nipped at it, causing his fiancé to shiver in pleasure and moan against Spite’s lips.

Both human and demon were fully hard by now and pressing their erections to either side of Rook’s body. The Watcher released the kiss to let his eyes slide down Spite’s body. “Oh, sweet Andraste…” his cheeks burned as he took in the sight of the demon’s erect cock. It was almost twice the size of a normal human’s, and the shaft was covered in rounded ridges. The tip, instead of rounded, curved into a point at the perfect angle. Had he conjured this, or was this Spite’s influence?

Lucanis muttered something in Antivan that Rook didn’t catch as he, too, saw what their third partner had to offer.

The demon revelled in the attention, its grin widening as it enjoyed the reaction he got from the two. “Care for a taste?” It teased, its voice low.

Rook licked his lips and nodded.

“Say it.” Spite demanded playfully.

The mage swallowed, his eyes never leaving the demon’s shaft. “I-I… I want to… I want to taste your cock. Please.” His ears burned, and he felt Lucanis’ own erection twitch against his back to indicate he was greatly enjoying the show already.

Spite chuckled, then opened its mouth to let his long, forked tongue slowly glide across its own lips. “Taste me. While I. Taste you.” The demon shifted on the bed, turning to lay in the opposite direction so its head was between Rook’s legs and its cock throbbed in front of his face.

Rook didn’t hesitate. He reached forward and wrapped his fingers around the textured shaft and brought the tip to his lips. He licked away the salty liquid already building up before taking it gingerly into his mouth.

Spite let out a pleased sigh. “Good boy.” It praised, which sent another shiver through the mage. He pressed his thighs together as his arousal grew almost unbearable. He needed to be touched.

Lucanis, no longer content with just watching, leaned in close so he could plant soft kisses against the mage’s neck, all while watching him work Spite’s cock in his mouth hungrily. To help the demon gain access to what they both wanted, he hooked an arm between Rook’s legs and lifted one up. His folds glistened with need, which Spite was eager to sate.

Spite let its long tongue tease the mage’s outer lips, earning needy whimpers that were muffled by the length in his mouth. The tongue flicked over Rook’s clit twice before diving in as deep as it could.

Rook threw his head back with a loud moan, momentarily losing focus on his own task. He squirmed in Lucanis’ arms, which only served to grind his ass against the assassin’s own aching member.

“Mierda…” Lucanis bit Rook’s ear a little harder than he had intended, but that only brought another loud moan from the mage.

Momentarily reminded of the erect demon cock in his hands, he got back to stroking the length and licking every inch he could reach. In the back of his mind he reminded himself that this is technically a dream–the Fade. Which meant that if he willed it… he could take the whole thing into his mouth. He had a new goal now. As he rolled his hips into Spite’s face, he slowly started to take its cock into his mouth little by little.

The demon’s tail flicked wildly behind him before it found a new purpose. It reached over Rook and brushed Lucanis’ cheek, who turned to kiss it without even thinking. The pointed, yet still soft, tip of the spaided tail rubbed against the assassin’s lips. He took it into his mouth and began to suck at it.

Spite let out a low rumble of approval. It retracted its tongue, earning a disappointed whimper from the mage, but he didn’t need to wait long for more stimulation. The demon easily slipped two fingers, the ones with the rounded nails, inside of Rook and twisted them around to get to every inch they could reach.

Lucanis’s hands wandered over Rook’s body. He let one glide through the mage’s hair while the other moved lower until his deft fingers found a nipple. He squeezed and twirled it to get more moans out of his mage.

Rook was glad no one else could hear him. Even with his moans and cries muffled, he was louder than he’d ever been before. He had about half the length down his throat, which would have normally been where it stopped. As his tongue swirled around the shaft in his mouth, he reminded himself that he didn’t really need to breathe here. He could do anything here. And he wanted his demon as deep inside of him as it could possibly be.

Meanwhile, Spite got an idea. He chuckled and opened his mouth to let his tongue brush against Rook’s thighs. The mage shivered, but that wasn’t his destination. He leaned in until he could run his tongue over Lucanis’ neglected arousal.

“Mierda!” Lucanis felt like he’d be saying that a lot during this. Spite’s tail claimed his mouth once again before he could say anything more.

Fingers still pumping into Rook, the demon used its tongue to guide the Crow’s cock forward, wrapping around the shaft and pulling it to meet Rook’s ready entrance. It removed its fingers and retracted its tongue only so it could grab and align Lucanis so he could thrust into their Rook.

The assassin happily obliged. He pushed into the Watcher easily, groaning loudly and in sync with his partner. His thrusts started slow, but quickly became faster as he lost himself in the pleasure.

Spite moaned loudly as Rook was motivated to take even more of the demon into his mouth. He was about two thirds of the way to the base, and the feeling of being so utterly full only egged him on further.

The demon let itself enjoy the sight in front of it for a while, grinning at the lewd sounds as Lucanis fucked Rook in a steady rhythm. Then it opened its mouth again to let its tongue flick over Rook’s engorged nub. It sucked and teased and let its tongue shift between Rook’s clit and the connection between the mage and the assassin.

Rook cried out around the length in his mouth, his body rocking frantically as he rode out his first orgasm. His muscles clenched tight around Lucanis’ cock, which soon got the assassin joining his pleasure and filling the mage deep with his release.

The Watcher used this high to take the rest of Spite’s demon cock into his mouth, and he was rewarded with a shudder and the feeling of being filled by Spite’s release deep into his throat.

Rook expected to be tired after such an intense orgasm, but this was the Fade. As soon as the high faded, he was ready for another round. Judging by the still hard shafts still inside him, so were the other two.

Spite gently pulled out of Rook’s throat with a grunt, and the mage gasped for air despite himself. “Holy shit…”

Lucanis nodded against the back of his neck. “We should have… done this sooner.” The assassin breathed out and planted more kisses into Rook’s skin.

“Not even. Finished yet.” Spite grinned and shifted back around so it could take Rook’s lips again. They tasted each other on their tongues, which only fueled the hot desire in them both.

Lucanis was ready to continue where he left off, but the demon’s slender fingers wound around his cock and guided him out of the mage. Rook whimpered, but that was quickly turned into another moan thanks to Spite’s expert tongue in his mouth.

“We fuck Rook. Together.” The demon purred as it guided Lucanis to Rook’s back entrance.

Rook shivered in anticipation. He tilted his head so he could reach Spite’s neck and return the bite the demon had given him earlier. He was met with an approving moan, and then he wondered something. This was the Fade… which meant… the mage’s eyes flashed golden and he bit down against Spite’s skin again, this time letting his fangs sink deep into its flesh. He was met with a hiss and a burst of rich, savory liquid hitting his tongue. Spite tasted just as good as Lucanis, but here… Rook didn’t need to worry about taking too much. He could indulge as much as he wanted.

And Spite was more than happy to let him.

Lucanis couldn’t hold back any longer, he reached down to stroke his still slick erection and started to press into Rook’s ass. The mage moaned against Spite’s neck, trying to push back to take more inside him quicker. The assassin was perhaps less gentle than he would have been in the waking world, quickly thrusting in fully with a grunt before setting his pace.

It was Spite’s turn to align itself with Rook’s other waiting hole. Its eyes burned with desire, a determination to bring Rook over the edge again and again and be the reason he loses his mind to pleasure. Without any further hesitation it pushed itself into the mage, slowly at first to savor the gasps and groans that vibrated against his skin.

Lucanis matched Spite’s pace, alternating their thrusts so Rook was always filled with one of them. The demon pushed deeper with each movement, and when he finally bottomed out the mage released his bite and cried out. “Maker! Spite! L-Lucanis! Fuck!”

Lucanis could feel Spite through Rook, and the sensation made him dizzy. He couldn’t focus on anything other than the mage’s tight muscles constricting as if to pull him in deeper. He came again sooner than he expected, groaning as he filled Rook up with each thrust.

The mage arched his back pressing his head back against Lucanis’ shoulder with his eyes squeezed shut. Lucanis shifted so he could capture Rook’s lips in a desperate kiss while still staying inside of him.

Spite’s pace increased, pulling out almost entirely from Rook before thrusting hard back in. It could feel Lucanis as well, which only spurred it on further. Reaching a hand out to the assassin, it tilted his chin up to force the kiss to break. Then when Lucanis’ eyes, glazed over from pleasure, met Spite's, the demon drew him into a deep kiss of its own.

Below them, Rook writhed and squirmed as he felt another deep orgasm hit him hard. He cried out louder than ever, which sent the demon over the edge with him. They came together, Spite filling the mage to the brim with his love and his release.

But this was the Fade, which meant they didn’t need to stop there. They continued to feel and taste and tease each other throughout the dream without the need to slow down to recover until finally it was time to wake up.

---

Their physical bodies slept through the rest of the day and the night, recovering not just from their injuries, but also the impossible amount of stress they’d both been under for a very long time. It was almost long enough for the others to start to worry, but before they could send a wake up call, the two men descended the stairs of the tavern hand in hand. The only proof of their night of passion was the mess between Rook’s legs when they awoke.

Almost everyone prepared to leave for the Lighthouse one final time. The exceptions being Neve, who was already plotting out reconstruction efforts, and Taash.

“I’m going with the Chargers.” They said plainly, pointing their thumb behind them at the clearly hung over group of mercenaries sitting in the corner of the bar. “They could use a dragon expert, and Bull wants to see my fire in action again.” Their tone was the same as usual, casual and blunt, but Rook could tell they had thought hard about this decision.

Rook smiled and raised an eyebrow. “For gold and glory?”

“For gold and glory.” Taash returned the smile, then after a moment’s hesitation they picked the mage up in a tight bear hug. “You better stay in touch, or I’m going to kick down the door of that weird crypt place and find you.”

Rook laughed, though it quickly turned into a cough from the tight hug. He was able to speak as soon as Taash let him down. “Will do.” He replied and cleared his throat.

“Don’t be a stranger here, either.” Neve put her hand on Rook’s shoulder. “I’ll be hurt if I don’t receive my wedding invitation.”

“Wedding?” Taash looked between Rook and Lucanis with a raised eyebrow.

Right, they hadn’t announced it to the whole group yet. A blush threatened to take over Rook’s face as he held up his hand to show them the ring. “Lucanis and I… are engaged.”

Bellara practically squealed and threw her arms around Rook in a hug almost as tight as Taash’s. “Oh, I knew it! I knew it! Are you going to have it in Treviso? Or maybe the Lighthouse? Oh, I know some great spots in Arlathan!”

“How wonderful.” Emmrich clasped his hands together. “I would also offer up the Grand Necropolis as a potential venue. The Hall of the Beloved would make a wonderful backdrop to such a commitment.”

Lucanis bit his tongue to keep from saying “No, we are not getting married in a tomb” out loud. He snaked an arm around Rook’s waist to protect him away from any more crushing hugs. “We’ll work out the details later, but yes of course everyone is invited.” He promised, though his thoughts drifted to Caterina and what her reaction would be. She seemed happy for him before, but with this sudden engagement he wasn’t sure what her reaction would be.

“Fuck yeah, Crow party!” Taash pumped their fist in the air.

---

Back in the Lighthouse, the remaining members of the Veilguard stood before the Eluvian to say their farewells.

“I think I’m going to stay in Arlathan for a while…” Davrin said as he smiled down at Assan and scratched behind the griffon’s ear. “You know, to make sure the griffons acclimate to their new home. Then it’s off to the South to help drive back the remaining blight.”

The blight. Solas had promised to soothe its anger, and already there seemed to be signs of it. All the living blight that Ghilan’nain had experimented on seemed to petrify overnight. That left the plain old regular blight to still contend with, which was still going to be a lot of work for the Wardens, but at least there was no longer the threat of any more Archdemons.

“The Veil is still stabilizing after Solas tied it to himself, so there’s still plenty to do around Arlathan to keep the Veil Jumpers busy.” Bellara said, looking between everyone. “We still have the Eluvians, though! That means we can use the Crossroads and see each other whenever we want!”

“Indeed.” Emmrich smiled. “I certainly intend to keep my study here in the Lighthouse so I can keep doing research on the Fade from the inside. Now that there’s no longer a looming threat over the world, I can relax and take it at my own pace.”

“Visit friends!” Manfred clapped his hands excitedly.

Emmrich laughed, “That as well.”

Bellara and Davrin went through the Eluvian first, leaving just Emmrich, Rook, and Lucanis lingering behind.

Rook hesitated, staring into the swirling surface of the mirror in front of him as he lost himself in his thoughts.

“Lysandre?” Lucanis prompted, giving the mage’s hand a light squeeze. He left his unspoken questions to hang in the air.

Rook smiled and looked between Emmrich and Lucanis, having come to a decision. “Bellara’s right, we still have the Eluvians. That means I can easily commute between Antiva and Nevarra.” He looked to Lucanis then. “While you’re out on contracts, I can work on my studies in the Necropolis. Then we’ll meet back home in Treviso for coffee.”

Hearing Rook refer to Treviso as “home” spread a warm feeling throughout Lucanis’ chest. He reached up and gently cupped Rook’s face in his hand. “That sounds perfect, cariño.” The assassin pulled him into a gentle, loving kiss.

As they pulled away Spite took over to whisper, “My little songbird…”

Notes:

Thus ends this chapter in their story... but we're not done!

Surprise! I'm writing a sequel story called "Birds of a Feather" for some post-Veilguard adventures! I've already got PLENTY of ideas for drama, fluff, and spice! Some new ideas, and some that couldn't fit in this one. Chapter 1 is already up!

And yes, Spite's keeping the new form 🤭

If anyone's interested in learning about Lysandre's original fandom and concept, let me know! He's one of my favorite OCs of mine, and I love gushing about him!

Notes:

Thank you for reading! This story went in directions I hadn't expected, but it's been so much fun! I hope you all have as much fun reading it as I have writing it!

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 1 of Skulls and Feathers (Rookanisite)