herbs and beans [midnight meetings pt. 1]
this is my mini series for my Rook Lucielle (she/her) and Lucanis exploring how they are bonding over similar trauma and a shared hot drink after midnight
part 1 takes place one night not late after Lucanis joined the lighthouse
spoiler warning for Lucanis' romance and story lore in general
tw/cw: slight mentions of trauma, ptsd and nightmares, and the usual inner struggles of two broken souls
word count: ~1.8k
part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4
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It was one of those restless nights, Rook called her own, especially for the past weeks. A good amount of sleep was simply never on the menu. So she sat up, rubbed her temples and looked into the reflection in the glass wall right in front of her. Her auburn hair was more stubborn than ever. A finger traced the dark circles and a pitiful scoff left her as a little fish swirled around the miserable image, almost mockingly. Grabbing her shirt, throwing it over and grabbing a jar from her nightstand, her body moved on its own and guided her through their shelter. She was living in the main building nearly on her own. All of her companions chose a different safe space, which wasn’t a bad thing per se. Rook was always the type to withdraw as soon as her mind played those awful jokes, the distance to her team made it easier. Varric was the only one, still laying in the infirmary, who could take notice of Rook's restless pacing after hours of miserable sleep, but after spending a year on the road together he was already used to it so she didn't care. But the others? Rook had to fill in big shoes after Varric’s accident, so she needed to be professional and well collected all the time. She couldn’t let the others and him down.
The bright lights in contrast to the dim light of her room made her eyes squeeze as soon as she left the building. Ever since they unwillingly moved into the lighthouse, she tried to understand that place, but all that magic and fade stuff made her suspicious. The continuous twilight zone made it hard to keep track of time. This place simply was so awkward, but what stressed her the most were the countless fights she had to manage. The guilt on her shoulders that two ancient elven gods are trying to blight the world, the haunting images of her past, the what-ifs and on top of it all, a very pride and edgy elf that crept into her dreams and mind as soon as she tried to rest. All those battles gave her nothing but nightmares, and led her to a specific place: The kitchen.
By complete muscle memory she moved to the stove and put the kettle on, fumbled with the glass jar filled with dry herbs. Harding had made this compound as soon as she learned of Rook’s troubles, the perfect tea mixture to help her fall back asleep. Rook couldn’t remember in detail what was in it, but there was definitely a huge amount of baldrian, lavender and chamomile. The smell was to get used to, but it already was relaxing to just inhale its familiar scent.
Again her body moved on its own and reached for the jar with honey, and for the mug. As soon as she found the usual spot of the mug empty, she snapped out of her brain fog and her brows furrowed. “That’s curious…” Rook said to herself. Her gaze wandered through the open space. The shelf that originally contained all their mugs was filled with other jars full of herbs. Usually, Neve would clean all the dishes after dinner and Bellara would place all their mugs exactly on said shelf. Never has she seen those jars. Her gaze wandered through the other organizers. Everything seemed to be slightly different. Rook narrowed her eyes as she inspected a specific container sitting right next to the stove.
“Need help?” a husky voice made its way to her ears. In an instant, she grabbed the nearest knife a bit too tightly as she felt a tension running through her muscles. Her posture was stiff but prepared for the worst. In front of her stood the man they just saved from an underwater prison. Hands raised in defense but a challenging glance in his dark eyes.
As soon as she realized who it was, her posture relaxed the slightest. “Sorry.” She put the knife back where she got it. “I didn’t hear you coming.”
Lucanis leaned against the counter, crossing his arms, but his stance was slightly too rigid, as if even in a familiar place like this, he couldn't fully relax. The seconds stretched between them, and for a moment, the room was filled with nothing but the soft simmer of the kettle before his voice was heard again. “Comes with the job.”
“Of course.” Just now it crossed her mind, and she looked a bit guilty at him. “Did I wake you?” With no means did Rook think about Lucanis setting up his ‘room’ in the pantry. Even when Bellara had mentioned it on their latest trip to Arlathan forest, she already forgot about it.
The assassin declined with a simple gesture of his hand. Rook wanted to intervene just when the sound of the kettle attracted both of their attention for a second. Lucanis went to the shelf and grabbed a mug for her, and one for himself, so he could prepare another cup of coffee.
With a raised brow she watched the man preparing the beverage with the highest finesse. It almost looked like art, not like brewing a cup of coffee. Meanwhile she looked into her cup, a spoonful of honey and some herbs thrown in, but well, it did the job. “You are staring.” He scoffed while not averting his gaze.
“Never saw someone putting so much effort into coffee…” She said while pouring the hot water into her mug, before standing behind her new companion. A clear distance between both of them. The room mixed with the smells of freshly grounded beans and the different herbs.
“Beh…then you simply never saw someone doing it the right way.” The crow simply stated, a little proud smile tugging at his lips as he gave his cup the last well trained swirl with his wrist. He can’t imagine how he survived this year without his favourite drink. His eyes darted to her cup, the heavy scent of her tea still flooding his nostrils and a deep, satisfied breath escaped his lungs as he took the first sip of his.
“Smells. Different.” Spite stated. “Lavender. Honey. Chamomile.” But Lucanis tried to ignore him, inhaling the steam of his beloved brew. Still, the other scent was so present he couldn’t ignore it.
Rook watched him cautious, the warm mug in her hands almost too comforting. She took a slow sip, closed her eyes, and for a moment, the world outside seemed to fade. But Lucanis’ presence on the opposite of her—so close, so silent—kept her from fully relaxing. She could almost imagine the weight of his eyes on her. That’s why she opened hers again and directly looked into his dark brooding ones. They met for a split second and it let her mind wonder again. In this very moment it was like she’d look into her reflection again. Exhaustion clung to the deep circles under his tired eyes. Heavy shoulders, and a never stopping mind was hidden behind those dark orbs, and before she’d say a wrong thing, she averted her gaze back to her mug. Why did he feel so familiar? Why did she suddenly feel so defenseless? Her mind still flashing her the images of mere seconds before. Why does he make me feel this way? Is it just the exhaustion, or is there something in his eyes that’s pulling at something buried deep inside me? Pull yourself together…
It was his voice that dragged her out of her thoughts. “Troubles sleeping?” Despite his calm tone, there was a faint edge in his voice that made her hesitate before answering. Lucanis took a quick sharp breath right after. Mierda. Why ask the obvious? He should know better than dig into the privacy of his new client, coworker, whatever. He immediately regretted it, but the question hung in the air, heavy with something unspoken.
“Asked the guy that should rather be asleep right now.” She smiled, but it was tight, her thoughts buzzing with uncertainty: Why did he have to be here now? This was supposed to be a quiet moment, not another conversation with someone who didn’t even know her—yet somehow, seemed to understand too much. Her mind was racing again while taking another well earned sip of her tea. Letting the brew warm her from the inside and a small yawn escaped her. She leaned against the counter behind her, as she saw the fleeting moment of regret washing over his face she declined with her hand before massaging her temple again. “Try to sleep when there's a nagging elf constantly giving cryptic advice and watching every part of your mind.” Her golden eyes searched for his again, and she looked into a face completely lost in thought. Another inhale. Stupid, Rook Think before you talk. She told herself. “Ir abelas.” [I am sorry] He suffered as much as her, she saw that. Having someone living rent-free in your mind, he understood better than anyone. “Neve already told me… I should think twice before speaking.” A pathetic laugh left her, before she decided to rather drink in silence. Does he judge me now? Everyone does… her heavy eyes clung to the liquid she swirled around in her cup.
Lucanis was a bit taken aback from her behaviour. She was so understanding on a different level, so close yet so far. “Let. Me. Talk. To. Her.” Spite once more demanded. “Let. Me. TALK. TO. ROOK.” Ignoring the demon made it only worse, but he didn't want to make it worse for her. “I think we both should get some rest.” He looked in the direction of the exit out of this situation. There was nothing but silence hanging in the air. After the silence weighed too much, he slowly parted his lips to add, but she interrupted him.
“Yeah…you’re right.” Rook turned on her heel and aimed for the door. “On nydha. Son era.” [Good night. Sleep well]
Lucanis turned around once more. His gaze lingered on her, and for a moment, he caught a flicker of something—maybe understanding, maybe something else. She quickly walked away, but not before his heart skipped a beat. It felt like he saw her more clearly than she was ready for. Maybe that’s why it felt wrong to let her go, no, to chase her out like that, Spite’s complaints met deaf ears, Lucanis was swallowed up by his thoughts about this little midnight meeting. For a brief moment, he wondered if she'd leave with the same weight she carried in when she first entered, but before he could find an answer, it was already time to prepare for the next day and that would start with a good breakfast. But one thing was sure, the scent of lavender and chamomile wouldn't leave his mind any time soon.
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