Rook is trapped in the Fade for longer than she thought.
Pairing: Rook x Lucanis / Rook x Spite
Genre: Angst
Words: 2.7k
Read it here on ao3!
Chapter 1 (Chapter 2 will be Lucanis’ pov <3)
How long has it been since she had stepped out of reality and into the Fade? Rook lay on her back, atop of the stairs by the ritual site the Fade handcrafted for her to admire and feel regret for how she failed to stop Solas’ ritual and let Varric die out here, in the cold. This is the last place of her prison the Fade has not transformed and reshaped yet, this is the only constant in her new reality, despite being here for a very long time.
How long, Rook was not sure. She can’t count how many moons risen and fallen, how many times the sun came to shine on her face and encourage her to start her day, nor did she possess the feeling to tell the time anymore. At some point, all of her senses mush together into one pile of confusion, loneliness and emptiness.
***
During the first few months, at least she thought those were months, Rook still had Varric to talk to.
She knew he wasn’t really there, but it was nice to have someone here with her. They talked about past jobs they did together, Rook’s royal fuck-up with the Antaam that caused Viago to send her away, how hurt she felt at the time and how much she missed Antiva, her home. She’d punch herself how she’d hate listening to Viago’s endless lectures and scoldings, only to miss them now so much it hurts.
At times, Rook and Varric argued, even if it was rather one sided. She screamed at him, cried into his shoulder, threw rocks and whatever else she got into her hands against walls or into the endless voids, while he let her. He never yelled back, never tried to stop or calm her, rather just let her be and do this until she was tired of it. That’s when he spoke to her again.
"I don’t know, kid. They should’ve gotten to you by now, but what do I know? I’m no mage." Varric fiddled with Bianca on his lap, leaning against the rock pillar behind him. Rook sat silently across him, her body and hands aching from punching and clawing at the statues of her companions, crying and yelling at them, asking the statues to speak to her again, show her a way out of this, but no answer ever came.
Her hand reached up to her face, brushing some sweat and stray tears away. “They’re still working on it, I know it. They wouldn’t leave me here like this.” Varric glanced up from his crossbow and up to her face. He heard how she still had hope, but one look into her eyes told him that the spark of hope diminished more and more over time. After closing her eyes once more to rest and opening them once she believed the night was over, Varric was gone, the Fade rearranging itself once again.
It’s almost mostly quiet in the Fade, apart from the stray Spirit managing to get lost and stumble upon this black and white painted prison of regret, immediately making their return back before they accidentally get themselves turnt into a despair demon or something similar of the sorts. Apart from that, no one ever came back to visit. Not even dreamers. Above her she saw shapes and shades of grey rearrange themselves, creating new areas of the prison she was trapped in for her to explore, but at a certain point, she stop bothering. Having one constant thing, the ritual site, despite how much it hurt to be here, was nice.
***
At first, after Varric left, Rook was alone with her thoughts. To entertain herself she took walks around the areas of the Fade she can reach, explore new areas and admire the ones she already knows over and over again, trying to find special new things every time she takes the same route. She talked to herself out loud, acting like somebody is going to respond someday, hoping someone will.
"So. How’s… Minrathous? We should get some of that fish by the docks again sometime." Rook cocked her head up to look at Neve’s face.
'Still blighted. The Shadow Dragons are trying their best, but the Venatori still hold most of the power. It’s.. (sigh) …hard.'
She could’ve sworn Neve did answer her this time. It almost felt… real. "I’m sorry, but—" 'You did what you could, but it wasn’t enough, Rook. You could have done more, done better. Because of you and your leadership Minrathous burned.'
Nothing was ever enough.
All of the things she did before; it was all never enough. She didn’t do enough to stop Solas’ ritual, not enough to save Minrathous, not enough to protect to Treviso, never enough for Viago, never enough, never enough.
At some point, even the smallest regrets circled inside her mind on loop over and over until it finally came to a halt after someone entered his mind.
***
The Fade changed around her to create new places and remind her of her biggest and most tragic mistakes while she walker circles in her prison, her eyes stopped registering what was around her at a certain point she cannot pinpoint. A mix of sand and gravel being crushed under her boot dragged her out of her daydreams of nothingness.
Lifting her head and taking the area around her, her heart stopped for a moment. This was the Ossuary. But how? It looked exactly the same to when Rook first stepped into this dammed prison to retrieve the grandson of Catarina, even the bodies of the slain Venatori were scattered around as blood slowly pooled beneath their bodies. Why did the Fade bring her here after… maybe months? She wasn’t sure. Rook’s mind cleared for a brief moment as she took a look around, taking the same route as before when she got here the first time. The fish outside the Ossuary were standing still, the water that was supposed to be pouring out of the cracks of the veil protecting the prison was unmoving.
It was too quiet.
Finding the cage where Lucanis was held, there was no trace of him. A fraction of her hoped he might be here, or at least, a piece of him. She felt selfish for even thinking of having him be trapped in here with her, even if it is not his real person that would be here. She felt selfish for wanting him.
Him, Lucanis Dellamorte, grandson of the First Talon and the future of the crows. The man that makes coffee to avoid falling asleep and let the demon residing in him to take over and possibly endanger the others, the same man that cooks for everyone and to their individual preferences, no matter how achy his body might be after being tossed around like a ragdoll by a Ghoul or how exhausted he was, the man whose eyes lit up like fireworks when Rook handed him the wyvern dagger, the man that didn’t believe he was allowed to love those creatures even as a grown man, the person that blindly loved his cousin to the point of not being able to recognise betrayal, the one that practically ran away in distress after experiencing an ounce of flirtation and real admiration. Lucanis.
Rook never wanted to think of him. She was unworthy to do so, because every time she did, she wished for nothing more than for him to be here in this black and white prison of endless agony and regret and suffer alongside her as they waited for rescue. She knew she was selfish for wanting him to experience more pain just so that she could have the person she loved most by her side until the end of time, or at least as long as their bodies allowed it. To trap him once more after releasing him from the Venatori prison, to lock him into another cage where he helplessly can wait for ultimate demise or let himself descend into insanity as the Fade created a new room handcrafted to reopen a wound that never really closed.
She knew she was selfish for wanting him. But was it selfish of her to wish that she still had a chance to return back home and ask for him to never leave her side again, to promise her that he loved her as much as she did him, or was it plain ignorance that led her to believe that she could ever leave this place and live in peace with her lover? Lucanis will never be here with here and she will never be with him again.
After leaving the Ossuary-copy of the Fade and taking her walk back to the ritual site, Rook felt glad that he wasn’t here. There was no coffee maker and no coffee beans, who knows how long this man could’ve survived in here before willingly giving his body to Spite to end his suffering? A small chuckle escaped her lips as she thought about that, a rare occasion in these times.
***
It was less painful to just not think, Rook found out. Maybe it was some sort of meditation she never was aware of, but at one point it felt nice to lay down on the ground and do nothing, feel nothing, think nothing. Her eyes stared at the air while her limbs were sprawled out into all directions. Varric used to make her lie down like this on the floor. "We called it Floortime in Kirkwall, does good to your mind to sometimes just do… nothing."
Her brain was painfully empty, not having enough energy to form one coherent thought. Even the Fade gave up on trying to lure her into exploring new areas of the regret prison by recreating some of her companions, kneeling down to her body and talking to her like nothing ever happened.
"It will do you good to stretch your limbs every now and then." Emmrich’s tall stature loomed over her, an unsure smile forming on his face as if not sure how to handle Rook in a state like hers. His hands clapped together. "Come on. We don’t have all day, dear! The Fade might change again and we will miss whatever it offered to us to experience it first hand, you wouldn’t want to miss that, would you?" Not even his professor voice and attitude, which usually made her perk up and sharpen her mind to prepare and listen to one of his lectures and informative rambles, instead leaving her to close her eyes is aspiration as to not having to look at him.
She knows he’s not real. There’s no point of talking to this skinwalker, this mimic trying to make her stand up and push herself to do something utterly meaningless.
It would only make her even more upset, frustrated at how a so-called damned Fade expert hasn’t managed to retrieve her out of this gods-forsaken place, even after months, maybe years of time!
The Fade understood that Rook didn’t want to see any of her other companions, so it created an imagine that made her stir and briefly believe that they were really here. The moment where hope shimmered to the surface that let her jump up to her feet was brief. "Rook?" She knew that voice. It was not exactly the voice she yearned to hear for all the long past moments, but it was similar and not unwelcome. “Found. Rook!” Spite’s toothy grin on Lucanis’s face almost made her throw up. "Spite! You—?"
Her throat felt incredibly dry and her words died on her tongue after not speaking for such a long time, but it seems like Spite understood whatever she tried to say. This was his domain in a way after all, Trade Speak wasn’t needed here. The demon stepped closer and invaded her personal space, but she didn’t mind, especially after his arms pulled her into an incredibly crushing hug against his (surprisingly) firm body. He was real. Spite felt real. Tears welled up in the corners of her eyes as her shaky arms reached out to wrap around his shoulders, to convince him silently to never let go of her ever again. “S-Spite.” Is the only thing she managed to press out of her mouth.
“Rook lost. Spite found! Curiosity and Prof-fes-sor work on dagger. For Rook!” Spite spoke against her skin as they were still holding each other. She couldn’t help but chuckle at how Spite was still trying to pronounce words slowly to get them right and buried her face into his surprisingly warm shoulder.
"Y-You found me." Spite, seemingly confused at how Rook repeated what he just said and now worried she might’ve gone deaf, decided to speak the next few words more loudly. "YES! CURIOSITY. AND. PRO-"She stopped him with a laugh and pulled away from his hug slightly to make him stop yelling by putting a finger on his lips.
"You’re going to get me out." Spite nodded furiously. "Yes. But. Go there first. Closer." The demon pointed at somewhere behind him. Hope bubbled up to the surface and dared to overflow, thinking Spite was trying to bring her somewhere Emmrich, Bellara or whoever else was working to get her can reach her more easily. She took his hand into hers and dragged him along to where Spite had pointed at.
"Where do you want me to go? Up the stairs? We can also go to the right, I thought I felt the Fade being weaker there because you know, lots of new rooms over there, but we can also…” Rook’s words died out as she turned around to look back at Spite and ask him where to go next, but the demon was gone.
Looking down at her closed fist was nothing, not even dust. Spite was gone. She was really there though, right? Spite, doing his very best and working hard to get Lucanis to bed so he can go access the Fade, finally found here wandering around.
Surely the Fade did not create another copy of someone she adores just to push her and face new regrets again. Surely she did not imagine the whole interacting, hallucinate Lucanis’ face, the body-crushing hug.
There was simply no way, is there? He must’ve been here.
He must’ve.
He HAD to.
There was no other choice.
No choice.
No.
***
There it was again; regret and shame.
Walking in circles at the ritual site, Rook’s mind repeated her own thoughts to her until it spiralled into the endless void and what was beyond it again. Maybe the others back home simply couldn’t get to her because they got distracted and busy by their own personal issues, even after Rook tried to solve them together with them.
Or maybe because they noticed they would fare much better without the overbearing, bossy, selfish leader. Or maybe because the world was consumed by blight, ruled by an unforgiving god that managed to get what he had ultimately wanted in the end. Perhaps there was nobody to retrieve and save her.
Thoughts like these are why Rook fell into this vegetative state of mind, not allowing herself to think or feel. If she could not think about her regrets, react to the Fade forcing all her smallest and largest mistakes to be faced and reviewed second by agonising second, let both frustration rise through her body and make her angry at perhaps already perished people for not coming for her, let her yearning for him crush her from the inside and out, maybe then she would be at peace.
Maybe then the unthinking Fade will show mercy and finally let her pass away.
***
After experiencing denial, anger, bargaining and depression both at a time and at the same time, there was nothing left but acceptance. What else was there as to accept that this is her fate from now on, to wander the Fade as a mortal now immortal, mourning over a lover she never had, mourning over a blighted world ruled by an even more blighted god, mourning over herself and how she never came to live her life to the end of her years. Acceptance is all there is, and Rook experiences it as an unending, stomach churning mourning and grief.
There is nothing else.
Nobody else. Nobody but her, forever and ever.
💠
Author’s note. Thanks for reading!
My best friend is FED UP with me takking about Lucanis she can’t take it anymore I gotta spread my hyperfixation elsewhere. Also I posted it on ao3 but I’m uploading here too because I yearn for instant dopamine boosts 🙂
Next chapter is gonna be all about Lucanis and Spite being bad at feelings
Anyways, make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough <33
in the order I found them in. The first three were found in the room with Caterina;
From in the room with Illario;
This, I found in the "outside" area of the mental ossuary - the area I found it in looked vaguely like the outside of the Lighthouse and made me wonder how many times he came back to himself and found himself somewhere strange.
Another from the same area (IIRC) - I find it poignant that Spite's fate factors into his thoughts
Lucanis is a self-admitted bad Andrastian, but he has caught himself praying to the Maker more often lately. It wasn't because of the Ossuary or Spite; those problems he can live with because they are his problems.
He catches himself praying when his mind starts to drift to Rook. Wondering what it would be like to run his hands through their hair, to allow them to peek into the mess that is his mind sharing an unexpected roommate. He knows that he must figure out some of his own problems first. And if he were being honest in the slightest, his heart yearns for Rook to see him as his whole self. But instead, he catches himself praying to the Maker that Rook is safe, that Rook won't see how tired he feels, that he will become a better man, someone that Rook would deserve. He will think it odd he has turned to prayer and logic the observation away. "Caterina's insistence that Illario and I go to Chantry School on the Maker's Day must have finally caught up to me. I'm not even a good Andrastian."
"May they walk by the Maker's side," he whispers in his heart whenever Rook leaves the Lighthouse and steps through the Elluvian. "Thank the Maker they're alright."
CW: Angst, pure angst, with a sprinkle of violence
Pairing: Lucanis Dellamorte x F!Rook de Riva
Summary: In a moment of weakness, where Spite seems to be ensnaring Lucanis more and more, Avantika "Rook" de Riva helps bring Lucanis back, reminding him he is far more than the demon in his mind.
The calm was unsettling. The hum of the Fade, the Lighthouse, providing what could only be heard as some sort of thrumming heartbeat in the air around Rook. As much as the others swore there was a serenity to this place, Rook could only see something that was stagnant. Like the air around them, the magic refused to move on past its time. It lingered, clung to the edifice of the Lighthouse like a memory desperately not wanting to be forgotten
It made Avantika restless, standing there like she really did not belong in such a place. It made her miss the streets of Treviso. The streets filled with spiced conversation and hushed whispers. The lively streets of the people coming and going with their lives.
Rook couldn't help but smile at the memories of perching herself upon the high roofs, staring out to the expansive ocean as she listened to secrets be traded in alleys below. It was almost the exact opposite of the Lighthouse in everything.
Staring into the deep blue of the aquarium before her, Rook asserted in her mind that she did, indeed, dislike it here.
‘Maybe he would have enjoyed it…’
Her thoughts of sharp handwriting and even sharper quips on parchment were quickly shattered, a thump resounding in the room. It was muffled, easily missed by most not paying close attention. But to a Crow, one whose life is about listening to every quiet whisper and subtle sound, it was nothing if not obvious.
Quickly setting down the letter in her hand, Rook wrapping her robe around herself snuggly as she took her leave. This place still felt like such a maze to Avantika, yet she made sure to commit to memory the most important rooms. Where her companions felt safe, shadowed corners and alcoves that would provide some sort of strategic advantage if they were to ever be sieged. Hiding spots for herself to just have a moment away from all this chaos.
Yet as much as she tried to familiarize herself with such a place, there was always some kind of secret kept away, a hidden truth that still made this entire structure seem incapable of understanding.
Again, another thump sounded off in the hall, this time much clearer to Avantika. A thump that was not one to be associated with a gentle movement of furniture. This one sounded far more aggressive, borderline panicked. Her feet picked up the pace, doing her best to try and track down the sound and its location. When the third thump resounded through the hall, Avantika could feel her heart stop in a panic, turning to the door she could very clearly trace it to.
Bursting through the doors, she could see that the entirety of the dining room had been thrown into chaos. Chairs strewn about, some broken, others nothing but splinters at this point. The only light illuminating the room being the now embered fireplace, and the light pouring from the askew door leading to the kitchens and-
“Fuck!”
Rook could not move fast enough, racing towards the door, just in time to have to dodge out of the way of a glass flying towards her face, glass shattering against the frame. Avantika could feel a shard just graze against her cheek, unable to completely avoid the remnants of the shrapnel flying. Ava hugged the wall for a moment, catching the breath that was stolen from the shock of entry, only for her eyes to lock onto those familiar brown, wide from the terror of being seen, or nearly hitting her, she was not entirely sure. But the man looked mortified, and it strangled Avantika's heart to a point where she found it hard to breathe.
Before Rook could open her mouth to speak, Lucanis hunched over, arms bracing himself against the wooden shelves of the pantry as he grunted out in pain. Avantika had only seen him like this in much more subtle bouts, not wanting to let her or the other’s panic from Spite’s influence. But Avantika knew something was very wrong, that this was far more serious than Lucanis would ever care to admit.
Slowly, Avantika took a step forward, not wanting to startle the poor man. She already knew that coming into such a dangerous and volatile situation would already put Lucanis in a panic, she did not want to accelerate his fear. When she could see he had not taken notice yet, Rook steeled herself to take another step forward.
“Lucanis? Lucanis… can you look at me, please?” Avantika did her best to try and keep her voice gentle and calm, wanting to try and de-escalate this whole situation in any way she could. Yet the shake in her voice that slipped through was enough to disintegrate that chance.
She knew exactly what…who would cling to it.
“Ava, you have to go, please, before-” Another cry out had Lucanis covering his ears, clutching onto his head as if it would explode.
Something in the air seemed to shift then, like the energy had become far too thin. The hair on Avantika’s arms rose, a familiar feeling in her veins pricked her. She had felt this before, it was a near familiar feeling always. That magic pulsing through her very blood, now manifesting before the two.
Before Lucanis could even attempt to react in his state, Avantika raced toward him, her own patterned hands finding his, now cradling his face as her amber eyes grew far more serious.
“Lucanis… listen to me… I need you to listen to me.”
For a moment, she felt Lucanis respond to her, eyes flickering before something changed. Avantika could feel something pulse within him, those brown eyes she would always lose herself in to a blackness that, when the dim firelight caught, showed that purple sheen that made Avantika's stomach drop. Before she could react quickly enough, she felt herself lifted, her body colliding with the wooden shelves above. All air was forced out of her lungs, the wicked smile beneath her letting out a warped sinister laugh before she was haphazardly tossed to the ground.
“So do you think…. With enough delusion…. He will amount to what you see in him?” That sickening voice ripped through Lucanis's lips, goosebumps of disgust risking on Avantika's skin as she collected herself to stand.
“Lucanis…” Avantika could only make out a breathless whisper. “I need you to come back.”
“WHY SPEAK TO THAT PATHETIC WRETCH WHEN I AM RIGHT-” Spite's roar was cut short by another loud cry, his body curling in on itself as Lucanis's shaking form fell to his knees.
To hear those pained whimpers come from the man, it made everything in Avantika want to rip apart Spite, to unleash complete magical brutality upon it.
But Avantika knew better. She knew that the only thing that would feed Spite, make it more powerful, was to feed into it. To give it the attention it craved. Seeing the pained form of Lucanis before her, all urge to acknowledge the demon was smothered.
Sinking to her knees before Lucanis, Rook's patterned hands slowly reached for Lucanis's own, her own body tensed and ready for any kind of outburst Spite could cause. But as she grasped onto Lucanis’s hands, she could feel that flinch, a squeeze of recognition that only made her heart squeeze tighter and her body move a little closer.
It was scary for her, but she could only imagine how terrifying this was for him. To feel your mind slipping out of your control. To be a spectator in your own body as some demon piloted your skin, speaking in your voice, all the while you're screaming to stop. All Avantika wanted was to take it away from him, to go into his mind and rip Spite away like the tumor that demon was.
But for now, all she could do was be here for Lucanis, to do anything possible to anchor him here in reality.
“Lucanis… I need you to listen and come back. You are safe… I am right here and I'm not going anywhere.” Rook did everything possible to make sure her voice was steady, that her body was steady.
“R-Rook… I-I don't want to hurt you again I-”
Avantika’s hand left his, gently placing it beneath his chin so those brown eyes could look into her own amber.
“No, you did not hurt me, Lucanis. That was not you.” She held his gaze right there, refusing to have his own spirit break from something he could not control.
It had chipped away at him over this year, and both knew that there was not much left to chip at anymore. But at least he could now have someone there. Someone to be a shield, no matter how much he would deny that.
Her other hand reached to cup his cheek, the man’s brown eyes fluttering closed for a moment. A moment both just sat there, letting the silence slowly come over them, smothering the chaos that had taken place like a blanket of snow.
“It will happen again, pequeña cuervo.”
“And when it does, I will be right here to call you back. Just you. You are not your demon.”
“The things I have done, though, Rook. Everything that has happened since-”
“No, Lucanis.” Her hands grasped the sides of his head tighter, making sure his eyes couldn't run. “You will not blame yourself for Spite. You will not fall on that sword. The man that I admire, that I want to help, is not what Spite has manipulated. It is not what you think you are. It is you and only you. Just Lucanis. This.”
Her hand rested on his heart, feeling the hammering beats of panic and fear. For a moment, Lucanis just sat there, searching Rook’s face for something. Doubt, a lie that did not exist. All he could see was the woman who refused to go, that refused to see the demon that poisoned his brain and body. The woman that only saw the man. His own hand enveloped hers, keeping it tight against his chest as their foreheads leant against one another.
“I’m tired, Rook… I’m tired… but I’m here.”
~~•~~
Avantika gave a soft smile and sigh, spiced and honeyed breath caressing his face that elicited a deep breath from the crow. It was something that anchored him. He realised in that moment, that Spite had gone for the moment. His mind was quiet, his body, however sore, was his own. So he just let the moment sit, wanting to cling onto the peace this woman brought as much as possible.
Maker’s breath, he was ruined by her.
“If you’re feeling up to it… how would a coffee sound? I have an old recipe that could help. Don't worry, nothing too sweet I promise.” Moving back a little, Avantika had a small smile on her lips, moving to stand and help Lucanis to his feet. The invitation did seem to perk something up in Lucanis as his own weary smile came back.
“Honestly, that would sound like the best thing in the world. Though a recipe for coffee does sound a little odd. Not many recipes I've heard other than-”
“Oh no this one, after you drink it, you will think it is the best in the fucking world.” There was that vulgar mouth again that amused him so much.
Honestly, it was refreshing to hear someone with so little filter. It reminded him of his little bird, the one from the letters. He found himself wondering about them more, how all this chaos was affecting them, but again, Avantika brought him back to reality.
“It is the spices that help. Even without the milk and sugar it still gives it something. If I remember it was…” Avantika began rummaging through the pantry shelf near the door, sifting things out of her way as she blindly tossed what she needed to the man still collecting his bearings behind her. How this woman could snap from one situation into something completely different was baffling to him.
Lucanis, of course, felt terrible for what she had seen, a moment of weakness he would never want to show. Even as he looked at his hands for a brief moment, knowing that they just moments before had caused her harm, had those regrets blown gently away with the sound of Avantika's voice. Her wide amber eyes sparkling as she searched, a smile on her face as she kept looking between the shelves and what was ending up in Lucanis's hands.
Without magic, Avantika had brought Lucanis back from the brink. And instead of wallowing in the event, having the two dwell on the subject, she somehow immediately brought light back in. A smile on her face, her voice filled with energy. It was contagious and he couldn't help but remember someone from before all this.
“Cinnamon yes…. “ A stick of the spice flew back, Lucanis catching it with ease. “Clove… cardamom… and… shit was was it? I know it's something!”
As Avantika tried to remember, Lucanis felt as if he was doused in ice cold water, standing behind Rook with an expression that could only be seen as awe. Something in his mind clicked, and for a moment, Lucanis felt like the biggest idiot alive.
Moving behind Avantika, he reached up, plucking a small jar from the shelf before handing it to her, his chest nearly touching Avantika’s back.
“Nutmeg.” His voice was low and gentle, placing the spice in her hand as Avantika let out a groan before slapping her head.
“Fuck, nutmeg of course I feel like an idiot!” Gathering the spices that Lucanis was holding, she began to make her leave, though stopping at the door with a curious expression.
“Wait, how did you know that? You’ve always drank your coffee black. I don't remember telling you-”
“A little bird told me once. But that was a while ago. No need to worry.”
Avantika frowned for a moment but seemed to shrug it off, making her leave as she began to tell Lucanis of how she once made it for Viago and accidently added too much clove, the man swearing up and down that Avantika was testing a poison on him.
And the First Talon listened, even though in his head, as he watched Avantika fuss herself over Lucanis and their coffee, he knew how the story ended. He knew that Viago would spend hours after that trying his best to replicate some poison that worked the same as Rook’s, only for him to finally come to the realization that Avantika was just terrible at eyeballing measurements. She still was, Lucanis noticing how she added more than enough nutmeg to her own cup.
His little bird had found him again. The little bird who, for the year before his imprisonment, had gifted him with these stories. He felt stupid for not realizing who she truly was sooner.
Lucanis could only hope that, at some point, she would be able to see him for who he was before this. Before the war and before Spite.
For her to see Lucanis as him, just him.
I am and will always be a sucker for sentient towers ❤️ The Lighthouse has founds its way among them.
Lucanis, like Rook and Emmrich, is an orphan. When he was seven years old, a rival house attacked his own and killed everyone else, he woke up alone surrounded by the bodies of his family.
This excerpt I found talks about someone reading him this book as a small boy — can you imagine the emotions at finding a copy of that book in the Lighthouse? (Also, I wonder if his fascination / love of wyverns comes from this childhood memory.)
