summary: giving lucanis a healing hug after a long day.
a/n: an emmrich angst is sitting in the vault waiting to be released….more dragon age is brewing…
ever since the failure of solas’ ritual life had turned upside down, almost quite literally. you never expected to have to lead a group of, frankly, traumatized people to stop two powerful gods from destroying the world yet here you are.
from dealing with undead in the necropolis to venatori cultists and murderous magical artifacts in arlathan, your days have been pretty busy to say the least. it’s a wonder you get any sleep at all between quests and the absent sun cycle in the lighthouse.
sighing softly, you shake out the match, a gentle aroma of citrus and cinnamon filling the room. a creak of the doors opening catches your attention, turning your body to see the visitor, a smile finds its way onto your face. “hey luca.” you say, making your way towards the crow. the tension in lucanis’ body immediately drains, shoulders falling downward, hands unfurling from their nail biting clench.
“hello my love.” tired yet soft eyes find yours as you stop in front of him. eyes flitting across his face and body, noting any bruise or cuts that he may have gained on his contract. fingers making work of his armor you plant a few kisses on his lips, a small smile ticking on his lips. “tough night?” you ask, helping lucanis shrug out of his cape.
a heavy sigh leaves his lips while he places his daggers and poisons on a table, “the usual but it felt more.. tiring today.” digging in the drawer, you notice lucanis’s shoulders start to tense back up. “the contract said there would only be four guards, and yet when i’m in the midst of a fight more show up!” you hum to his words and start running the bath, “i knew there was too much blood on you.”
an amused huff is all you get in response and the soft slide of a wood drawer closing. a warm, calloused hand settles on your lower back, “i can take it from here,” lucanis mutters, “thank you my love.” he places a kiss onto your cheek before beginning to undress. a smirk graces your lips as you watch, “i think your gaze is hotter than the bath.” he states making you laugh.
leaving the room, you make your way through the lighthouse, waving towards harding as she sits in the library with a book on some plant in her lap. assan’s squawks fill the air of the fade, davrin and taash’s loud voices join. coming to a stop in the kitchen you grab a bowl, filling it up with tonight’s dinner, a creamy pasta mixed with vegetables from arlathan. “oh! here rook! i stocked up on these last time we were in treviso.” bellara hands you a plate of mixed cut fruit. “you’re a doll.” you place a kiss onto her cheek, deciding to ignore the warmth creeping onto it.
by the time you enter your room lucanis is changed into “comfortable” clothes, running his product filled fingers through his damp hair. a subconscious smile fills his face at your entrance, something he’s been doing a lot more since the start of your relationship. “dinner,” you stand next to him and present the steaming bowl, “and fruit. courtesy of bel.”
lucanis hums and takes them from you, placing them on the table as he pops a piece of fruit in his mouth. watching, a slight gnawing feeling twists inside your stomach, the urge– need to hold lucanis in your arms encompasses your body. not taking time to think on it, you pull him towards you, arms wrapped tightly around his neck. lucanis takes it with grace, arms wrapping around your waist as he breathes deeply.
you slowly rub a hand up and down his back, hoping to ease the tension in his body. “not that i’m complaining but what is this for?” he asks quietly starting to softly sway your bodies. “just felt like it.” you go to pull back slightly only to be met with resistance. lucanis’s beard tickles the side of your face as he nuzzles against you, a soft giggle coming out.
“do you mind if we stay like this,” his voice rumbles out, pitched deeper from his body and mind relaxing deeper into you. “for just a little longer?” he asks so softly your chest fills with warmth and your heart twists. “of course.” you whisper and press a kiss to the side of his head, smiling softly when purple wings sprout from his back and encase your bodies.
A/N: I honestly didn’t have a clear plan when I started writing this, but I just really wanted to give Davrin some love and see where it would go.
Elf Rook
The recent mission had wrapped up with little fanfare. There were no flirtatious glances across the dinner table, no heated, whispered invitations lurking behind closed doors. And yet, somehow, you’d still ended up here: in his room, in his bed, cradled in his arms. Davrin wasn’t about to complain, not when you were looking at him like he was the only thing that mattered. It was the gaze of a hunter satisfied with their quarry. Your nails traced the intricate lines of his Vallaslin, almost reverently, as his thumb drew soft circles into your hip.
“You know,” you murmured, cupping his cheek with a tenderness that caught him off guard. “I don’t really remember my clan.” Davrin’s brow furrowed slightly. Besides the Antivan Crows, you never spoke about your past, never hinted at the life you’d left behind. He’d come to believe it was a locked door you had no intention of opening. But now, your fingers drifted from his markings to your own, a soft hum escaping your lips as if lost in memories he couldn’t reach.
He tilted his head, searching your eyes. “You’ve never mentioned them before.”
A faint, rueful smile curled at your lips. “There wasn’t much to say. It was a lifetime ago.” Your thumb traced along his jawline, almost as if grounding yourself in the present. “Sometimes I wonder if I made them up—if I was ever really part of them at all. But then I see your Vallaslin, see my Vallaslin and it feels like... like something I’ve forgotten.”
Davrin’s grip on your hip tightened slightly, pulling you closer as if he could shield you from whatever ghosts haunted your memories. “You belong here,” he said softly, voice tinged with a rare, gentle insistence. “With me.”
Your eyes softened, and you leaned in, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “That’s the first thing I’ve been certain of in a long time.”
The room fell into a silence, the only sound being Assan ruffling his feathers from where he laid behind the wall. Your fingers continued their path along his Vallaslin, and he let himself relax into the sensation, eyes fluttering closed. It felt like a promise, one he wasn’t sure he deserved but was willing to fight for anyway.
“Tell me,” you said after a moment, voice hushed as if speaking too loudly might shatter the fragile peace. “What do your markings mean?”
His eyes opened, locking onto yours. “Strength,” he whispered, voice rough around the edges. “The kind you only find when you have something worth fighting for.”
You smiled, and it felt like the first ray of sunlight after a long winter’s night. “Good,” you replied, curling closer into his chest. “I need you to remember that.”
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
Chapter 17:
No One From House Dellamorte Kneels
“The Crows abandoned me.” She said, shoving him off. “I just had the sense to go where I was welcome.”
Viago shot to his feet, gesturing around the room. “Is this where you’re welcome, Fiammetta? Jeopardizing your life in a conflict you should have no part in? Parading yourself around a leader while-”
HOW DARE-
“Viago!” Lucanis snapped before Spite could break through. “This is not the time or place.”
“He’s right.” Teia said, pulling Viago by the arm towards the courtyard. “Clearly the de Rivas have some things to work out, but right now, saving Caterina and stopping Illario is priority.”
Viago worked his jaw as his eyes flitted between Lucanis and Rook.
HE DOES NOT LIKE YOU NEAR ROOK. DOES NOT LIKE US.
“The meeting begins at dusk. In the Opera House. We’ll hold Illario’s plans off as long as we can until you arrive.”
He tore his gaze away from Rook and stormed out of the kitchen, Teia casting an apologetic glance over her shoulder as she hurried after him. As the doors swung shut behind them, Lucanis grasped Rook’s wrist and drew her towards him.
“He’s worried about you. Don’t take his words to heart.”
“Too little, too late.” She said, wrenching her arm away. “Just get me out of here so I can kill someone who deserves it.”
YES. GIVE ROOK - GIVE US - SOMETHING TO KILL.
Lucanis pursed his lips, exhaling through his nose as he glanced in the direction of the courtyard.
“I’ll talk to Davrin. The others have too much going on right now. You should take some time for yourself. I’ll come get you when we’re ready.”
Out of respect, Lucanis pretended not to notice the tears pooling in Rook’s waterline. He walked to the courtyard, giving her a moment of privacy, despite how badly he wanted to pull her into his arms and comfort her. He was going to throttle her cousin later.
Pairing: Lucanis x Fem Rook/OFC x Spite???
Summary: Viago tours the Lighthouse, Davrin learns about Crow customs, neither Dellamorte ends the evening how they imagined, and Lucanis practices his brooding.
Word count: 5k
Things of note/warnings: 18+ fic, MDNI! This chapter contains content from Lucanis' veilguard quest, A Murder of Crows. Warnings for: violence, blood, Viago yelling. Please read on AO3 if you need to track warnings, they will be inevitably detailed better there (or just want to be real sweet and give me hits/kudos/comments).
Read on AO3
─── ⊹⊱♤⊰⊹ ───
“So my cousin makes you sleep in a closet?”
“I chose the pantry.”
Viago sat at the kitchen table in the Lighthouse, watching Lucanis pour himself his fourth cup of coffee that morning. He and Teia had wandered through the eluvian with news of Illario, and after last night, Lucanis had suggested Teia be the one to wake Rook up.
“Hm.” Viago drummed his fingers on the table thoughtfully. “I suppose it has good choke points.”
As he leaned against the mantle, Lucanis glimpsed his reflection in a pot hanging by the stove. Deep circles were carved under his eyes, evidence of his paranoia of Spite sleepwalking them into Rook’s chambers again last night.
A few more beats of uncomfortable silence passed before Viago spoke again.
“You know, Teia and I broke up over that shit Rook pulled last week.”
“Just over Rook?” Lucanis raised his eyebrows skeptically, his voice echoing inside his mug.
“I need to work on my tone, apparently.”
Lucanis swallowed and nodded, suppressing a grin. “How long this time?”
“Ten minutes.”
“A record,” Rook sneered, following Teia into the kitchen. She perched atop the table, her legs dangling over the side. “You have news for me?”
“Illario is making his move.” Viago said, sliding an envelope across the table to her. “An invitation. To celebrate our new First Talon and discuss the situation in Treviso. It came across my desk this morning. He’s hosting nearly every Crow House at Caterina’s villa.”
“Cousin, you look so melancholy. I thought you loved parties.” Rook ignored Viago’s scowl as she drank from his untouched cup of coffee and turned to Lucanis. “Are we crashing?”
“This is our best shot at getting Caterina out. Then, we stop Illario.”
“All the Crows in one place.” Rook said. “I’m sure an abomination and the embarrassment of the de Riva household will be more than welcome.”
“Your poor decisions would have been easily forgiven had you not deserted Treviso entirely.” Viago interjected.
Rook froze, slowly turning to face him.
“Excuse me?” Her voice pitched higher as she slapped the invite down onto the table in front of him. “I’m fulfilling a contract fighting elven gods . I chased a dragon out of our city. Give me a fucking break.”
Viago stared, unflinching. “You abandoned your family to take a contract I didn’t approve.”
“Vi…” Teia warned.
“I abandoned no one!” Rook snarled.
Lucanis shifted, feeling Spite bristle in reaction to her anger.
“Where were the Crows when my father lost his mind? When he drowned me every day as some part of his sick training regiment? When he beat you senseless for trying to protect me? When I was starving, because he poisoned what little meals we coud afford to build my immunity, until I was petrified at the thought of eating breakfast? ”
Viago remained silent, his fury simmering beneath the surface. Teia bit her lip and Lucanis set his coffee on top of the mantle, both moving closer in case they needed to arbitrate.
“And then, when I made a well-intentioned mistake, my own cousin makes a mockery of me by having me serve as the First Talon’s glorified maid, all because he decided I needed to be made an example of!”
As Rook held Viago’s glare, Lucanis reached for her shoulder, pulling her several steps back.
“The Crows abandoned me.” She said, shoving him off. “I just had the sense to go where I was welcome.”
Viago shot to his feet, gesturing around the room. “Is this where you’re welcome, Fiammetta? Jeopardizing your life in a conflict you should have no part in? Parading yourself around a leader while-”
HOW DARE-
“Viago!” Lucanis snapped before Spite could break through. “This is not the time or place.”
“He’s right.” Teia said, pulling Viago by the arm towards the courtyard. “Clearly the de Rivas have some things to work out, but right now, saving Caterina and stopping Illario is priority.”
Viago worked his jaw as his eyes flitted between Lucanis and Rook.
HE DOES NOT LIKE YOU NEAR ROOK. DOES NOT LIKE US.
“The meeting begins at dusk. In the Opera House. We’ll hold Illario’s plans off as long as we can until you arrive.”
Viago tore his gaze away and stormed out of the kitchen, Teia casting an apologetic glance over her shoulder as she hurried after him. As the doors swung shut behind them, Lucanis grasped Rook’s wrist and drew her towards him.
“He’s worried about you. Don’t take his words to heart.”
“Too little, too late.” She said, wrenching her arm away. “Just get me out of here so I can kill someone who deserves it.”
YES. GIVE ROOK - GIVE US - SOMETHING TO KILL.
Lucanis pursed his lips, exhaling through his nose as he glanced in the direction of the courtyard.
“I’ll talk to Davrin. The others have too much going on right now. You should take some time for yourself. I’ll come get you when we’re ready.”
Out of respect, Lucanis pretended not to notice the tears pooling in Rook’s waterline. He walked to the courtyard, giving her a moment of privacy, despite how badly he wanted to pull her into his arms and comfort her himself.
He was going to throttle her cousin later.
─── ⊹⊱♤⊰⊹ ───
“So, where are we headed?” Davrin asked as Rook pulled her blade from the heart of a Venatori mage.
“The Opera House. It’s…” Lucanis stopped in his tracks and scanned the rooftops on the horizon. “You know it’s across the grounds. In the guesthouse.”
“Opera House?” Davrin echoed.
“Caterina hosts galas there, Crow business. Those kinds of things.” Lucanis leapt down onto a balcony, motioning for them to follow.
“No Opera?”
“Rarely.” Rook interjected. “It’s a bit of an inside joke.”
“How?”
“It’s ah….where we make people sing. If you catch my drift.”
“Uh…” Davrin offered her a hand as she hopped across a gap between roofs.
“They interrogate people. Torture them.” Rook ignored his hand, landing safely on the rooftop beside him. Chivalry wasn’t dead amongst Crows, but underestimating a lady certainly was. Out of her periphery, she caught Lucanis observing with amusement as the warden awkwardly wiped his palm on his armor and muttered something to himself.
“There.” Lucanis pointed out a tower with a stained glass window. “That will get us where we need to be.”
“Estate’s pretty big already. Does it really need a second house?” Davrin asked.
“It’s for guests.” Lucanis replied, as if the answer should be obvious. “You don’t think we’d just let them stay in our rooms? Risk them cutting our throats?”
“I had my own room in the main house.” Rook bragged, catching up to Lucanis on the next rooftop as they neared the villa.
Lucanis smirked. “You were…special.”
Rook’s mood had lightened after a few hours of uninterrupted rest, but she was certain the second she was in the same room as her cousin and Illario, her fury would return. For the time being, she chose not to be bothered by Viago’s earlier comments.
With a polite touch to the small of Rook’s back, Lucanis ushered her ahead onto a fallen beam between platforms.
“After you.”
She nodded graciously, holding her arms out and stepping carefully across.
“I get it. He can be a gentleman because he knows all your bird customs.” Davrin grumbled, balancing precariously on the walkway behind them. “Remind me why we couldn’t just go through the front door?”
“Rook already tried that. It didn’t end well for her.” Lucanis said, earning himself a jab to the ribs as she passed him. “Besides, there’s no way my cousin would let me in-”
“-HE FEARS US. GOOD. HE SHOULD.”
Rook slipped inside a broken window, descending over stacked crates and barrels to the landing below. As they arrived at a gate, Lucanis pried some freshly placed boards off the secret passage to the villa.
“I had to come back and conceal the escape route again after you tried to die here.” He said as Rook shot him a questioning look. “I thought I was the only one who knew about it. I found it playing as a boy.”
“I found it when I left the villa. Illario doesn’t know it’s here.” She said, effortlessly slipping through the narrow passage. Lucanis followed her, Davrin grunting as he squeezed himself inside.
They crept through the cavernous tunnels until they reached the underbelly of the house in silence. Rook pressed an ear to a pair of wooden doors, listening carefully to a conversation on the other side.
“They mentioned an old woman.” She relayed, closing her eyes to better make out their voices.
Lucanis scowled. “Caterina.”
“Must be a difficult prisoner,” Davrin mused.
“She’s difficult in any scenario.” Rook mumbled, earning herself a glare from Lucanis. He cracked open the door before motioning them on. In a blur of violet, he advanced ahead, running his blade through two Venatori standing guard in the hall.
“Ugh. Illario let them in here?” He wrinkled his nose, wiping his sword on their clothes as they choked on their own blood, “I’m going to have to have the entire place cleaned.”
His footsteps were silent against the intricate marble flooring as Lucanis led them through the villa. White sheets covered the furniture and sculptures, just as they had over a year ago, albeit dustier.
“This is your home?” Davrin asked, looking around from floor to ceiling. “No wonder your cousin wanted to inherit.”
“I lived here until I was 18. Caterina made us get our own homes after that. But she still kept rooms for us. Ilario abused that privilege. Insufferably.”
Spite inhaled deeply. “Home? Smells like dust and linseed oil.”
“Don’t say that when Catrina is in earshot.” Lucanis chastised him.
“So, Rook, what was so bad about that cushy assistant job?” Davrin asked.
“Illario.”
“TRAITOR.”
Lucanis motioned them towards the den. “Caterina’s room is up here.”
Slowly and soundlessly, the three ascended the stairs. At the top, Rook pressed her back to the wall, peeking around the edge. Two Venatori were stationed outside Caterina’s door, bored and yawning. With an outstretched hand, she delivered a swift electrocution to one, stunning the guard beside them in time for Lucanis to cut their throat, discarding the body into the corner. Davrin nodded, his mouth forming a line as he watched them work.
“The door is barred from the inside.” Rook said, tugging on the handles.
“I’ll go first.” Lucanis said, pulling her aside. “If my grandmother is in there, better she strikes me with that cane than you. I’m at least used to it.”
He leaned back and delivered a swift kick to the doors. They swung open, revealing Caterina’s room precisely as Rook remembered it, save for the mess of broken furniture that had been served as a barricade. As Lucanis stepped inside, his hopeful expression dimmed, finding it empty, but out of the corner of her eye, Rook caught a flash of amethyst just above his head. Before she could open her mouth to warn him, he caught the First Talon’s cane before it made contact with the crown of his head. Lowering her weapon, his face fell, as if he’d seen a ghost.
“Caterina?” He breathed.
“Lucanis! My poor boy.” She lamented, kissing both of his cheeks affectionately. In shock, he returned the gesture vacantly, going through the motions before shoving a hand in his pocket.
“I believe you dropped this,” He said, handing Caterina the opal ring she had slipped under the door to signal Rook of her presence. The two exchanged a somber look before she slid it onto her middle finger, kissing Lucanis’ cheek again before her eyes fell upon Rook.
“Fiammetta. You kept your word and returned my grandson to me.”
“You can thank me later. Right now, we should get you to safety before we stop Illario.”
“Do not speak about me as if I cannot fend for myself! Have I not survived these Venatori on my own?” Caterina snapped. “There’s no time for heroic nonsense. I will come with you.”
“Illario is reckless, Caterina. Don’t make Lucanis lose you all over again.” Rook pleaded.
The old woman squinted, assessing both Lucanis and Rook before giving a resigned grunt.
“Go.” she grumbled, appraising Davrin as she pushed past him out the door. “I’ll meet you in the Opera House.”
Lucanis flashed Rook a faint smile.
“Welcome back to House Dellamorte, De Riva.”
She took his hand in hers, running a thumb across his knuckles. “It’s good to be back.”
He clasped his free hand over hers affectionately, searching her face intently.
“When this is over I-”
From the hall, Assan rushed in, inspecting every corner of the room. Lucanis’ smile faltered as Davrin entered behind the griffin, clearing his throat.
“I thought we were in a hurry.”
“We are,” Rook said, dropping Lucanis’ hand. “Come on, we can scale the window to the gardens.”
Rook bristled as they stepped inside the Opera House. It was ominous, as it had been the night she’d been misled to kill an innocent man. Since then, she had been to Crow gatherings in the space, but never under such grim circumstances or with the knowledge she now possessed about Illario’s motives.
Chatter and whispers traveled through the stairwells from above. Nearly every Crow in Treviso must be present tonight. If things didn’t go their way, it was certain death for her and Lucanis.
“Caterina’s death was a tragedy.” Illario’s voice echoed through the building as Rook and Lucanis dispatched two Venatori in the Opera’s anteroom. “But to get Lucanis back from the dead, only to lose him to a demon? For me? That is a deep personal loss.”
At her side, peering through a crack in the door, a low rumble escaped from Lucanis’ throat as he gritted his teeth.
“Keep your head…” Davrin urged.
“And so I take the mantle of First Talon with a heavy heart.” Illario continued, “But the Crows will rise from the ashes-”
Lucanis rose to his feet. “I’ve had enough of this.”
“Do you even have a plan?” Rook hissed.
“Knives are involved.” He replied as she followed him.
“-with our new Venatori allies, we could claim Antiva-”
“Over my dead body!”
Illario turned, his eyes narrowing the sight of his cousin kicking open the main doors. Behind him, Viago and Teia exchanged a glance as two other Talons unsheathed their blades.
Cutting his fingertips on the Crow brooch upon his breast pocket, Illario drew a red haze of power between his palms, making Rook’s stomach roil with dread.
“That could be arranged.”
Several Venatori stepped from the shadows, and the remaining Talons drew their swords. Rook quickly worked to assess who would side with them as she cut through a Venatori on her right. Teia and Viago were a given, and Bolivar, Sixth Talon, usually sided with the Dellamortes, but tonight, it was impossible to tell: Which Dellamorte did he consider the true heir? Could any of the Crows in this room trust a Dellamorte after this?
“Yield!” Illario commanded, summoning his reserves of blood magic.
“You can’t…overpower…us both!” Lucanis gritted out, Spite’s wings unfurling behind him. The crowd gasped collectively, and Illario’s smug expression wavered.
“Now you fall.” Spite and Lucanis snarled in unison.
“You should have stayed dead, cousin! All of this is on your head!” Illario roared as he unsheathed his blades, one clashing with Lucanis in an instant.
“You started this, cousin.” Lucanis said with a cloying sweetness. “I’m ending it.”
A Venatori blade nearly hooked Lucanis from behind, and he turned to engage them. Rook pointed Davrin towards the rest of the incoming Venatori as she stepped between the Dellamorte cousins, not allowing Illario to get the upper hand. His face slackened as she swiped at his middle with the sword he’d gifted her so many years ago.
“Keeping your grandmother locked in her room?” Rook demanded, dodging his half-hearted attempt at cutting her. “What is wrong with you?”
“It was for her own good.” He seized her by the wrist as her free hand attempted to drive a dagger into his ribs. “I would have never harmed her.”
“Damn it, Fiammetta!” Viago barked from across the room. “Do not let him get the upper hand!”
Rook ignored her cousin, freeing herself from Illario’s grasp with a flick of her wrist, just as her father had taught her.
“Was poisoning me for my own good? Did you know I would have died without Viago’s intervention?”
“I never wanted to hurt you-”
“Or how about your alliance with Elgar’nan?” As she threw her blade at his face, Illario dodged, turning to watch it lodge itself in the wallpaper and rip a line through the ivory embellishments. “You know he wants me dead, right?”
“Fi-”
She silenced him with a slap to the face. Illario’s hand came to his cheek, pressed against the red flushed skin there as he returned his gaze to her slowly, a lethal look in his eyes.
“You were one of my oldest friends.” She snarled, “I trusted you above so many others. And you lied to me. Betrayed me. And Lucanis! Your own blood . Your ambitions really know no bounds.”
Illario threw her against the wall, knocking the wind from her.
“What I did, I did for the Crows!”
He pinned one hand above her head, the dagger in his other hand hovering over her neck.
“You did it for yourself!” Rook shrieked.
Just above Illario’s shoulder, she watched as Lucanis dispatched three Venatori, desperately trying to reach her. Illario followed her gaze and, with a cry of frustration, thrust Rook ahead of him, blade pressed to her throat.
“Stop!” He shouted, wrapping an arm across her torso and walking her to the center of the room, as if she were a human shield.
Lucanis threw aside the final mage he’d been fighting just as Viago leapt from the Opera stage. The two met them under the grand chandelier, weapons drawn, while Davrin checked over his shoulder as he and Assan continued pushing back the remaining Venatori.
“You don’t want to make an enemy of me, Illario.” Viago advised, circling them. “Let my cousin go. Don’t do something you can’t take back.”
“You decide what happens next!” Illario warned, his blade digging further into Rook’s skin.
“You think you’re in too deep, Illario,” Rook murmured as she felt a single bead of blood run down her neck. “But you can still fix this.”
“Stop talking, Fiammetta.” He hissed, but his hold relaxed, giving her room to breathe.
“What’s your endgame here?” Rook asked him, “Because Lucanis doesn’t want to kill you, but Spite will. This little standoff only lasts as long as I’m alive. Harm me, and it’s all over for you.”
“Maybe that’s your problem, Fi. You’re on a first name basis with my cousin’s demon.”
“I tried playing nice.” Rook said, slipping one hand through the crook of his elbow and wrapping her fingers around his knife. An electric current danced up to the hilt, causing Illario to flinch, and his grip on her to falter. Blood stained her palm as he recoiled, inadvertently slicing open the skin where she held his blade. Illario shoved her forward to break the static that surrounded them, and Rook tumbled to the floor, leaving a trail of crimson handprints as she scrambled backwards. Viago bent and pulled her up, fingertips digging into her shoulders as he restrained her, keeping her from intervening.
Lucanis approached his cousin, pointing the tip of his sword at his heart.
“I’ll kill you for that.” He growled.
Illario scowled, clutching his chest as he fought to steady his pulse, falling to his knees.
“So I’ve heard.” He said through clenched teeth, “What are you waiting for, cousin? Finish what you start.”
Spite’s wings disappeared behind Lucanis as he sheathed his weapon with a look of contempt. He gestured to the Crows leaning over the balcony with bated breath, the Talons standing with disappointed expressions behind him.
“I already did. What am I ever going to do that is worse than this? On your knees? In front of every house?”
Illario stared at the crowd, jeering and booing from above. Hope and malice faded from his features, replaced by the sting of humiliation.
“Get up, Illario.” Caterina commanded, her cane falling on the floor with a resounding knock between each step as she entered the room.
“Caterina!” Teia cried, “Thank the Maker!”
Viago released his hold on Rook, yanking Illario to his feet as the First Talon stood over her grandson, disgusted. Both hands poised atop her cane, the bejeweled eyes of the carved Crow head beneath her fingertips stared directly at Lucanis.
“No one from House Dellamorte kneels.”
Rook felt a pang of empathy for her old friend. He looked like a boy again, scolded for playing in the gardens too roughly. Proven inferior to his cousin, once again.
“He’s your family.” Rook moved to Lucanis’ side, resting a hand on his arm. “You said he was all you had, besides Caterina…”
“That was before you.”
Lucanis drug a hand over his face and sighed.
“But you’re right. He’s family.”
Illario scoffed.
“You think you can show me mercy? That’s not up to you, is it? Caterina is still First Talon.”
“Enough, Illario! Lucanis is the new First Talon.” Caterina announced over a roar of cheering from above. “His decision stands.”
Both Dellamorte cousins’ faces fell in unison. Whether or not Caterina intended for it to be, Illario’s loss was a punishment for each of them. What one desired most in the world, the other desperately had tried to run from.
Lucanis schooled his expression into something focused, commandeering, void of the remorse and aching etched there moments ago.
“Viago. Keep him out of trouble.” He directed.
“I’m no miracle worker,” The Fifth Talon said, tugging Illario aside, “but I’ll see what I can do.”
Illario leaned towards his cousin as he was escorted from the premises.
“Lucanis…” he taunted, holding out each syllable.
“Don’t.” Lucanis voice was hard and clipped. “Not now.”
Caterina walked slowly to a nearby table, picking up a goblet of wine and passing it to her grandson. Reluctantly, he stared at it in his hand, panic flickering across his face as he lifted his head to meet Rook’s stare. Before she could react, a glass of wine was shoved into her own hands, and Teia began making a toast. Rook’s ears rang as she watched Lucanis swirl his drink, lost in his thoughts.
“To Lucanis!” Davrin called out with a proud smile. Well-intentioned as their friend was, something about the way everyone raised their glasses, the way Lucanis brought his wine to his lips like a death sentence, made her want to choke. She mimicked a drink, and discarded her goblet, watching from the perimeter of the room as Lucanis was congratulated by each Talon, save Viago, who was likely giving Illario a beating somewhere between here and the casino.
Davrin joined her on the wall, wine in hand and Assan at his heels.
“I thought you’d be happier for him.” He nudged her with his shoulder. “Does this make you Queen of the Crows or something?”
“This isn’t what he wants.” Rook whispered, voice catching in her throat as she watched Lucanis smile and nod in a sea of congratulations.
All those years of Crow training, just to feign happiness.
“In that case, try not to be offended if I don’t stick around to celebrate. Those Venatori landed a few good blows on me and I’m ready for a hot salt bath.”
Rook nodded and gave an appreciative, thin-lipped smile as her friend disappeared. In silence, she observed the party from afar until she was interrupted by a scraping sound against the marble floor beside her.
“Dellamortes, get all the praise.” Caterina muttered, tapping Rook’s shin with her cane. “Come. Walk with me.”
Suggestions were never optional with Caterina, and knowing better than to decline, Rook uneasily followed her out the patio doors to the gardens.
They strolled past the rose bushes and sat on a stone bench under a willow that was not native to this area of Treviso, but that Caterina had insisted to have imported decades ago. Rook had to admit it was thriving here.
“Do you recognize this opal?” Caterina asked, slipping off her ring. Rook took it gingerly between her thumb and forefinger, letting its iridescence catch in the moonlight.
“It’s the same gem Lucanis stole and gifted to me when we were children.” She smiled softly, her breath rising in the fog as she spoke. “I still remember the look on my father’s face when you came to our door.”
Rook passed the ring back to Caterina, and she held up her hand to decline, shaking her head.
“Keep it. I’ve outgrown it.” She said firmly. “Consider it a token of my appreciation for saving my grandson, and myself.”
“Caterina! I can’t possibly accept this.”
“You would insult your First Talon by declining a gesture of her gratitude?”
“To be fair, you just gave that title to Lucanis.” Rook knew she was in dangerous territory, but felt bold enough to test the waters. Riling Caterina was a risk, but one with an amusing payoff.
“Precisely. I gave him a title. He knows I won’t retire until long after he buries me.”
Rook carefully slipped the opal over the ring finger on her right hand. So strange how it found its way back to her, given the circumstances.
“Maybe I was too soft on Illario. I stoked the fires of his resentment by favoring Lucanis to take my place. But I knew Illario would never be cut out for Talon. He was prone to fits when he didn’t get his way and spent too much time fretting about what was fair or unfair. In the Crows, there is no such thing as fair.”
Caterina lifted her head towards the stars and frowned, as if they shared her disapproval.
“From a young age, Lucanis always saw the world for what it was. He would cry for dead birds in the garden, and then wipe his tears and bury them under this willow tree, because he knew it needed to be done. He has an impeccable talent for leaving no job unfinished, even when no one is watching. His internal compass is strong, where Illario’s is easily led astray.”
Rook remained silent. It was rare that Caterina was talkative, and rarer that she showed even a glimmer of regret.
“I was hard on Lucanis, focused my lessons on him because I needed him to have what it took to survive. Being First Talon doesn’t just make you a target, it makes the people you love targets. Lucanis showed exceptional talent and caught the attention of the other Crows even as a boy. Whether or not he wanted my title, I needed to ensure he’d survive long enough to turn it down.”
Uncertain Caterina would let her live to regret it, Rook spoke anyway.
“You hardly gave Lucanis an opportunity to say no, announcing his change in rank before every Crow in Treviso.”
Surprisingly, Caterina’s cane remained firmly planted on the garden cobblestones.
“Sometimes we are burdened with things not because we desire them, but because we are the best person for the job. Lucanis will make a good First Talon precisely because he does not want it.”
“You knew?”
“I knew. Illario was talented in charming people, but being skilled in manipulating others put him at risk of being manipulated himself. My grandson could change his colors to suit whatever person or situation he needed them to, because his own identity was so unstable. Lucanis is who he is. He’s a lethal assassin, and an excellent Crow, but he cannot resist doing what he believes is right.”
Rook blinked, certain she’d been poisoned when Illario’s blade nicked her throat, and that she was hallucinating this entire exchange.
“I will not insult you by telling you your parents would be proud of you, Fiammetta. I think you already know that. And we both know it’s not their approval you desire.” Caterina continued, “You are like Lucanis in many ways. You did what you felt was right, and when you made a bad call, you accepted your punishment with your head held high. You never complained. You paid your debts, and you moved on. You accepted the role of leader against gods, because it needed to be done. Your cousin believed you were neglecting your responsibilities, abandoning your family, but wherever your battles lead you, you will always embody the spirit of a Crow.”
She rose to her feet and nodded towards the manor.
“Come. My grandson is spying. I think he’s worried I’ve brought you out here to kill you.”
Rook glanced towards the Opera House, where Lucanis was brooding against a foggy window pane, hands buried into his pockets.
“The guest room is as you left it. Several of the gowns in the closet belonged to my daughter-in-law. She was about your size. We might be assassins, but there’s no reason to be covered in blood at a party.” She said with a wink. “Rest assured, she fitted all her clothing to be suitable for an ambush. You’ll be at no disadvantage.”
─── ⊹⊱♤⊰⊹ ───
Rook assessed the opera house floor as she descended the staircase, dressed in a sleeveless black gown that took her nearly half an hour to lace herself into. Caterina wasn’t joking - the dress fit her like a second skin, and she could kill someone in this ensemble just as easily as she could in her leathers. The trouble would lie in getting it off. Wearing heels, against her better judgement, Rook decided to allow herself the enjoyment of one last Dellamorte soiree.
A dense crowd surrounded Caterina, Teia close to her side. Even though former First Talon had opted for the party to continue despite the disgrace her grandson had made of himself, everyone present was on edge. Repairing the distrust between Houses would take time, but at least the First, Fifth and Seventh Talons still had faith in one another. And, at the end of the day, Crows never really trusted one another.
“There you are.”
At the sound of a familiar voice, Rook’s footstep faltered on the final stair, and she caught herself on the guardrail as a hand slipped around her waist.
Chapters: 10/10
Fandom: Dragon Age, Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Cremisius "Krem" Aclassi/Josephine Montilyet
Characters: Cremisius "Krem" Aclassi, Josephine Montilyet, Leliana (Dragon Age), The Iron Bull (Dragon Age), Bull's Chargers (Dragon Age), Adorno Ciel Otranto, Cullen Rutherford
Additional Tags: Fluff, Romantic Fluff, Mutual Pining, Trans Thedas Fest (Dragon Age)
Summary:
When Krem and the Bull's Chargers signed on with the Inquisition, he was expecting steady, lucrative work for the good of Thedas. What he didn't expect was to fall head-over-heels for the Inquisition's lady diplomat, Josephine Montilyet. This follows touch-points in Krem and Josephine's relationship over the course of the Inquisition.
I drew my Warden Amelia Amell and her bard Leliana from my fan fiction. The scene depicts their first kiss. Leliana giving Amelia the good ole “shut up and kiss me already”
This is a style I have never attempted before digitally.
My fic is currently ongoing with frequent updates.
Kiera, a witty elf who spent her life pursuing knowledge, living the joys of the forest. In line to be the Keeper's first when life completely flipped upside down, losing everything. She was banished from her clan, forced out of Arlathan and down into gritty Ferelden with its backward views on magic, and right into the Wardens, which was never what she wanted. At least she had the enigmatic witch and her companions to keep her company during the long year. It wasn't a life she envisioned, but it was what she had, and she would at least enjoy it while she could, even if she was constantly being whacked by Morrigan's staff.
Growing up in the Circle, Amelia lived a repressed life. She'd always been one to help those close to her, which is how she ended up with the Wardens and by Kiera's side. She was fairly certain that if it wasn't for her guidance, her best friend would certainly make some wild decisions. She was the oddest mage the woman had ever seen. Amelia was one to keep to herself and stay in the background, which, being taller than most people, was sometimes difficult. For all the anxieties she had, there was one thing that could keep her grounded: the beautiful bard who warmed her bedroll each night.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
Sun was almost set down when they arrived. Commander helped his wife get off the horse. They barely picked up the bags when he heard the rude comments about his love, saying "uh, this is disgusting ", "Inquisition is really at the lowest right now". Obviously, they were people who had no idea of any kind of sacrifice and all they did was talking bullshit about someone because her wardrobe isn't expensive enough by their standards. He looked at them contemptuously, hoping that she had not heard their worthless comments, but from her fake expression he knew perfectly well that she was only pretending to be good-humoured .
- Ah, Inquisitor!
- Great, another jerk. - Cullen thought, rolling his eyes.
- It took you a while. Council is not too .. satisfied. We would appreciate more respect.
- Respect?! - Commander knew that if this stupid man will say one more sentence, he'll punch him.
Inquisitor saw the seething anger from Cullen, so she put hand on his fist to calm him down a little. While she talked to the man, she was stroking Commander's hand. He wondered how she continued to play their game so well even after all that happened.
- I appreciate but I prefer to avoid more problems when so little has been left. - she turned around to him when the man left.
- They're only looking at the tip of their nose and dare to talk about respect?!
- I know. - she put hand on his cheek.
He sighed. - Forgive me.
- No, no. There is nothing I disagree with you right now. - she kissed his forehead. - We should go with Josie to take rooms and probably say hello to the Council. Although I am convinced that they'll sling mud at me.
- Should I go with you?
- Just for room, the rest I'll take care of with Josephine.
- I'll take our things for this time then.
- Thank you.
She didn't say it would be quick but he hadn't expected three hours. Cullen managed to move everything to the room, even unpack some of them, or play with the dog and she still wasn't back. To be honest he was a little worried, he had left her alone to be devoured by the hyenas. So he fed the dog and went to check how things are going
Before meeting place, he saw Blackwall waiting as well, walked over, put hand on his shoulder and greet him.
- How are you feeling? - Cullen asked.
- I'm good, thanks. You?
- I'm just nervous that they still keep them there.
- I can't imagine how tired they must be, this whole journey and now this. I can tell, they do it on purpose.
- Why didn't you enter?
- They won't let anyone in now, unless theirs, maybe if you had been from the very beginning. - answered Blackwall.
- Do you waiting here long?
- A while now, I think. Besides, in the tavern, Sera and Bull are doing competition anyway. - chuckled Thom.
Moment later they heard them talking nearby, so they opened the door, both ladies were surprised for a second. Blackwall extended his hand to Josephine, and the Inquisitor greeted Cullen.
- I thought you'd be sleeping. - she hugged his husband.
- Not knowing that you're with woolfes. How did it went?
- I was right, I got screwed up, I don't even know how many times. Josie and Leliana tried to calm the situation. Oh and they invited us to breakfast.
- I suppose that, early in the morning.
- Unfortunately. Someone tired is better to control, right? - she whispered.
- I'm sorry to interrupt, I would like to thank you for the company during the meeting and wish you a good night's sleep. - said Josephine.
- I should be the one thanking you. I'd go crazy there without you. - answered Inquisitor. - I wish you both good night too.
They both smiled and walked away.
- Can we go to bed too?
- Yes, I see that you're tired. - Cullen kissed her forehead.
Morning, Orlais
They woke up, got ready and went for the breakfast.
- Everyone have a sit and enjoy your meals. - man smiled.
It started better then Cullen thought at first, conversation went fine. Of course, it couldn't do without small teasing, but his beloved sitting next to him rather did not care about them. Everything was going pretty smooth.. until person by her left felt a little.. too comfortable. It started with just leg touching her leg, so she ignored it, but someone wasn't ending there. Over time, she pulled away little by little, as much as she could, but even that didn't seem to work. Finally, Cullen noticed his partner's feelin' disagreeable.
- Is everything alright? - he whispered. She didn't directly gave him an answer but he recognized her crease of his sleeve as a "no". Cullen looked at the man sitting next to his beloved wife. Commander gently squeezed her hand. - Is he touching you?
She nodded to his whisper. Cullen's blood started to boil in his veins, she must've felt that so she tapped his hand to bring back his attention to her, he looked up and saw her slightly shaking head dissuaded him from thoughts that arise in his head.
One of the Orlesian's mobility stood up. - You have to excuse me for a minute.
Another one did the same. - We can make a break.
Everyone left the room as if they were sitting there for a year, not that Cullen was against it. Of course he hated them all deep inside but he couldn't leave his lovely wife to the wolf's.
- Cullen...? - Inquisitor brought him back from thoughts again.
- Y-Yes? Oh... Are you okay, my love? - he caressed her cheek.
- I'm alright, It's just... - she sighed. - I wish we could go back home, to be honest.
- I know, love, me too. - he hugged her tightly.
- I'm so tired, Cullen...
Some of the nobelties got back to the room, including the one who was sitting next to the Inquisitor. When she was about to sit down, Cullen grapped her arm and pulled his chair out for her. She hesitated at first but after a second she sat down, Commander then took her previous place, feeling aversion from the man next to him. Didn't also missed his snort, Cullen ignored him, only were a little at ease about his sweetheart finally being able to eat her breakfast at some kind of peace.
After an hour the meeting was finished. Commander and the Inquisitor left the palace, of course not without a proper goodbye.
- Maker's breath... Do you-
- Inquisitor!
She heard her husband letting a quiet curse under his nose.
- Inquisitor! - the man snorted.
- Yes?
- The council puts a lot of effort for your Inquisition.. but even they don't exactly do it for the people's sake. Me, on the other hand, tries to make more for you.. - he grapped her forearm, she didn't even flinch or anything, like it's everyday situation, Cullen however got alarmed on the highest level. - That changing seats and and.. impolite atmosphere at breakfast leaves a lot for asking when I'm doing the best a little brocken creature like you and your playground. That was inappropriate, without respect I'd even say. - the man visingly squeezed her forearm tighter and with every sentence got closer to her.
Commander tried to keep it cool for her but now? Oh it was too much, at this point not only his blood was boiling but him completely. He quickly pulled the man's hand away from her and pushed him, blinded by anger, not hearing his beloved.
- Inappropriate?! - Cullen yanked him by the collar. - You have the nerve to talk about respect when half of the breakfast you were gropping a women?! My wife! I'm not surprised the council doesn't listen to your bullshit. You're lucky I didn't broke your fucking arms off earlier, I promise I won't hesitate if I'll see you close to my wife ever again. You're a disgusting bastard. - Commander pushed him to the ground. - "Brocken little creature", huh? If you'd met me in Kirkwall you'd be-
- Cullen! - she grabbed his hand, which made him come back to reality again.
Man laying on the ground snorted couple of times, pretending he didn't just shit his pants. He got up, of course wanting to bite back but after a look on Commander's face.. he just quickly walked away.
After couple minutes in their shared room
Inquisitor could still feel the tension in her husband's body, he tried to calm himself a little by taking deep breathes. It physically hurted her to see him like this.
- Sit down, please.
- Forgive me... I know you're mad about it all, I just...
She hugged him, he didn't wasted one second wrapping arms around her waist. - I can't let them disrespect you like that-
