Do Not Give This Away. || Lucanis Dellamorte x Reader
A/N: It’s a very short one, but I have thoughts and ideas for more so stay tuned!
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"They called him 'the Demon of Vyrantium'. He was the one who did those jobs."
She spoke slowly, but there was a fierceness behind every word, like an undercurrent of slow-acting poison.
It might as well have been with the visceral internal reaction my brain decided to offer in response, which I managed to limit externally to a slight twitch of my lip, which would be easily mistaken for a smirk, or something of the like.
I deserved an award for the acting I had to do that day. The return to Antiva that I had to pretend was an introduction. The would-be tour of the Antaam's occupation that I had to react to with the level of sorrow and mild anger appropriate for an uninvolved bystander, rather than the sheer bitter rage I wanted to express. And of course- the arrival into the Crow's nest. Though that one was simpler, as the reaction to something superficially new to me was genuine. The only thing I had to hide was my prior understanding of its workings. Of the people in it. Their methods. Their personalities and relationships.
"Sending a demon to take down a God? Sounds like a plan."
I had responded, with just the right level of flippance and ease. Conversations with these people meant more than they appeared to. Every change in tone, stance, general bearing- it meant something. Something that would be catalogued by every person in the room, consciously or not.
"It's a nonsense plan, but that's not important."
Viago responded tersely- he obviously wasn't a great fan of my perceived lack of seriousness towards the situation.
"Lucanis Dellamorte is dead."
This one had been a crucial balancing point- I had to react to a death I was already aware of, as if it were new information, whilst also not appearing to be more concerned than someone whose plans had been thrown off-course. I remained silent, but made sure to crease my brow just right in order to convey sorrow, but also that I was mentally reconsidering my plans- absolutely not how I had reacted the first time.
A pregnant pause followed, as expected.
And then-
"What I say doesn't leave this room."
Oh?
My stance faltered briefly.
"The body our people brought back was not my grandson. It was dressed in his clothing, but it had been altered with blood magic to have his face."
She spoke those simple, simple words quietly, compared to her normal decibel, slowly, looking around the room, with a hint of emotion I'm not sure had been seen in many a year by most of the people in it.
I had to fight everything in me at that moment to not let my jaw drop. Of all the things I expected from Caterina, the coldness, sterness, perhaps even being turned away- this was not something I had on my bingo card.
Viago looked off, a slurry of quiet anger, contemplation and mild shock on his face, though it was mostly overriden by the quiet anger.
Illario didn't have quite the same level of composure, face immediately turning to shock, borderline frantic, as Caterina spoke.
"My cousin is still alive? And you didn't think to tell me?"
He spoke sharply, annoyed, but also mildly panicked. He had been described to me on many accounts on many different states, and though I knew him as dramatic, impulsive, occasionally insecure and spiteful- that had been odd to me, even at the time, but I didn't quite process it fully until later, after I'd gotten over the shock of the moment myself, and when it became more obvious as to why he had responded in such a manner.
You live and you learn.
"His ship was attacked. We knew someone sold him out... so you kept your suspicions to yourself."
Viago spoke, annoyed, but there had been detectable notes of both admiration and sadness in his tone, for Caterina's obvious adeptness at her craft, and her clear unwillingness to trust him.
"But you've brought it up now. Why?"
I swallowed back my shock as I spoke clearly and directly, having waited until I righted myself before I chose to speak- it was not worth giving anything away at this point.
"I've had eyes on the Venatori ever since they took my grandson from me."
The emotion remained present in her voice. She really had cared for the boy enough to break her otherwise unshakable composure, though I knew that already, it was... interesting to see.
"They were hunting your Dread Wolf. And what you did to his ritual threw them into disarray. They made mistakes. And now I have a location. The Ossuary. Where the Demon of Vyrantium is kept. Find this Ossuary. Free Lucanis. You'll have your god-killer. And I'll have my grandson."
She had obviously been forming this plan in her head since I brought him up only minutes ago. A carer's instinct to save her ward, paired with the deadly disposition of a First Talon was something to be reckoned with.
I had nodded, a new resolve forming in my mind, that rang very close to her own.
———
The Ossuary had been a conflicting sight. The surrounding ocean was beautiful, though a cruel contrast. The fish swimming freely and joyfully while the captives had to be contained. Almost pennance for the invention of aquariums, though the captors were far more intentional about their cruelty towards the inhabitants of the Ossuary than the people running aquariums, I suspected.
I hadn't been expecting to find him as quickly as we did- though it's more like he found us. Just as the Venatori began chanting, he came swooping in on a grand apparition of purple wings.
Damn, I don't remember those.
I had thought.
He made quick work of the Venatori, landing gracefully, and whipping around, still tense, immediately beginning his line of questioning, defensive, as he had been conditioned to be.
He looked to Harding first.
"Who are you?"
And then...
"Who sent you-"
... me.
The questioning intonation in his voice practically evaporated.
"Caterina."
I said simply- well- surface-level simply. That's what Harding had read into it at least. Unlike Lucanis, who read every single signal I could muster up that would tell him; 'do not give this away'.
He took this and ran with it, though I knew he'd have questions, he could ask them later, just as I would of him.
"You're not Crows."
"And you're not human. Demonic possession?"
The place reeked of blood magic, so it hadn't been much of a surprise to me, but this level of control was certainly odd.
"Its complicated."
He responded, filling in the blank I hadn't even verbalised.
"Right. Well- Caterina promised us a mage-killer. Can you be that? Though I'd rather you keep away from the mages on the team. I feel that would be counterproductive."
He grins, almost imperceptibly, just for a moment.
Though he'd never hurt a contractor unless requested-
He never was good at keeping away from me.
"I can still work."
"Good. Because I can almost guarantee there are more Venatori on the way."
I responded, going into task mode.
Lucanis's expression hardened, doing something similar.
"They have a vial of my blood. They can use it to control me. I cannot leave it in their hands."
It had angered me, probably visibly, but it wouldn't be that unusual for a mage with a moral compass to be annoyed by the use of blood magic.
"Okay."
"And I had a contract. When I was captured. One of my targets is here. Calivan."
I wanted to sigh, but just smiled slightly despite myself. I still respected his drive.
"We can do that. The gods we need you to kill will still be around tomorrow."
His eyebrows rose ever so slightly, but he chose not to question me yet.
"It really requires a sit-down, about thirty minutes, and a cup of coffee to explain."
I elaborated.
———
Finding the vial, killing Calivan... it had been simpler than I'd expected at the time. Emotionally... Turbulent, but mechanically it was as simple as; kill a few more venatori, break some of their ridiculously convoluted barriers, kill the bastard, get out.
What was not easy, was the state of the Cantori Diamond and its inhabitants upon our return.
The place was a wreck. What had been pristine, fashionable and functional- a true monument to deadly grace, laced with black, blue, and golden filigree on every surface, was torn to shreds. It was dull, and I wasn't able to tell how much of that came from the physical state of the place, and how much came from the sorry sight that was the crows with a Talon clipped.
I remained silent as it was explained to us that the Venatori had staged an unexpected ambush, and killed Caterina in the confusion.
Lucanis was silent, seething and grieving simultaneously, before he spoke;
"I need to work."
Teia, ever the voice of empathy from the tales I had heard about her, spoke next, concern lacing her tone.
"Are you sure? You should take some time."
Lucanis responded in an instant, not quite snapping, but about as close as he could have gotten at that point.
"I don't need time—I need a target."
"Promise I'll give him a target and return him in one piece. Good as new."
I spoke, mixing understanding with something lighter.
After the proceeding argument about whether Lucanis should stay or go, which Teia won through sheer need for vengeance, Lucanis, Harding and I made our way to the Eluvian. I purposefully walked a few paces behind Harding, and, as I knew he would, Lucanis mirrored me. He never walked with his back to someone if he could help it.
As soon as Harding stepped through the eluvian, I pulled Lucanis into an alcove.
"You don't need to do this. You can focus on the venatori first if that's what you really need to do, I understand-"
He gently put his hands on my shoulders.
"Y/N. You are fighting... gods."
He sighed. It warmed my heart a bit. He was aware of, and could feel just how much weight this carried for all of us, especially me. Even after all this time.
His hands slid down to the sides of my upper arms.
"Everyone's lives are at stake, my grief cannot stand in the way of stopping them."
He spoke firmly.
He was so close there. It was... overwhelming, familiar, but it still hit me like a freight train. Like remembering a hobby you've completely forgotten and having it come back to you in an instant. I wondered how he still smelled like coffee. How his hair was longer, but still so shiny. His beard was grown out. He was forever fighting with it. The man could use a knife with more precision than a surgeon, even with opposing motives, but couldn't shave without ending up with more cuts than he'd ever gotten on a job.
"And I won't let you do that without me."
