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The first time Lucien truly sees them together is at the joust.
They’re in the stands, Raiden full of his typical, boundless, energy, then her hand clasping down on his thigh in an attempt to keep him from shaking the stands apart. There’s a tense moment, where the both of them seem surprised by this turn of events, although a moment later there’s the glint of Raiden’s toothy grin.
Lucien smiles as well, appreciating the sight of those two bright heads, tilted toward each other, no doubt a mixture of teasing and flirting flying in the space between.
This time, there is no space between. Lucien had watched as their new shadow ran to the top of the hill, the wind blowing her hair back from her face to reveal a wide grin as she turned back to grab Raiden’s hand. There had been some awkward maneuvering, along with a few curses and giggling, until the two of them were on their backs, clasped snugly into each others arms, and poised on the cusp of the hill.
Then they were rolling down the grassy knoll in a blur of movement, shouts and gasping laughter ringing across the meadow.
They hadn’t moved from where they’d lost momentum; there was no need, not with her laying on top of Raiden’s chest, his face so full of naked affection, it tugs at even Lucien’s heartstrings. The hands that are more used to bringing violence than gentleness, are touching her like she’s made of feathers and hollow bones. Like it would be far easier than the assassin would wish to harm her, even though she’s weathered the touch of Ungrath himself, as well as the all-encompassing gaze of Novoth.
A spy, anchorless in the sea of politics and strife, with a dagger in each sleeve, she’s so far from a delicate flower it should be laughable, but it isn’t. Because despite the fact that she’s only just made her place here- the thought of losing her is intolerable.
Her hands are just as reverent on Raiden’s face, and Lucien wonders if the assassin will finally find the courage to accept it. If the way his lips part and eyes close is any indication, Lucien would guess, yes, a smirk curling the corner of their mouth.
She kisses him then, slow and languid, one hand slipping to his hair and tangling into the white locks. Lucien can see what’s coming and they lick their bottom lip, as she rolls her hips, the same time she yanks on the handful of hair in her grip.
A punched out groan, and Raiden arches up against her, while a few yards away, Lucien bites their lip, grinning.
Gentleness can always be spiced up, as far as the demon is concerned.
They turn away and head back the way they came, deciding to take the shortcut to the castle instead of the scenic route, lovely though the scene is. Going by the way the shadow responded the other day, Lucien is rather certain they’ll have other chances to see their darling snakes playing together again, up close and personal. Their own bed is perfect for such endeavors, and Lucien has endless ideas on ways they can entertain each other.
They hum an old, forgotten tune to themselves, as they change the direction of their feet, although not the destination. Smiling, they wonder how many more times the shadow will require such an action on their part, a side step, an about face, a dance; they hope there will be many, many, times.
***
When Lucien had spirited them out of the Knight Commander’s headquarters in the nick of time, they’d found it difficult to look away from the grinning face of their lovely companion. Her sparkling eyes, and the giggle she tried to hold back with her hand covering her mouth, so incongruous with the image she’d portrayed earlier of a kind, but dutiful knight, they found themselves wanting to see more.
Their wish was realized at the joust, when Lucien witnessed an intriguing scene. Raiden, offering her a lance, but her hand seized his wrist instead, the move hidden from the crowd in the folds of his cloak. She could have shaken him, letting his hood fall back and exposing his deception, but she just pulled him closer as she leaned down from her mount.
“Where the fuck is Mads?”
If Lucien wasn’t a demon he wouldn’t have heard this riveting conversation, or seen the spark of fury in her eyes. The shy woman, capable of giggling, utterly vanished, and in her place someone whose every action is a testament to years of training to fight. A thrill had run through Lucien at that moment, and they’d eyed Raiden’s cloaked countenance, interested in how he’d handle this conundrum.
“Safe and sound, I promise.”
The other knight was yelling at her across the field, but she paid him all the attention of a buzzing fly. Raiden meanwhile, had no doubt been grinning behind his hood, nothing at all to show the truth of his statement, but it seemed she was, at the very least, willing to give him the benefit of the doubt.
“I don’t care how many friends you have, nor how powerful they are, if you harm one of mine, I will do as needed to see justice for their pain, do you understand?”
As Lucien expected, such stout loyalty toward a ‘lowly’ squire inspired the best in Raiden and he bowed as much as he could with his arm caught in the iron grip of the law; though, likely not as caught as she thought.
“As expected of an honorable knight.”
Her expressive face had shown she was unconvinced he wasn’t mocking her, but she released him anyway, finally taking up the lance. She apologized to her opponent before pulling down the visor on her helmet with a clang
They’ve come far from that tense moment Lucien muses as they pause on the edge of a copse of trees in the garden. Not far away, the two of them reside on a bench, Raiden sitting on the honorable knight’s lap, scarred fingers cupping her face as he kisses her like she’s the very air he needs to breathe. For all it looks like she’s pulled him into that position, it’s Raiden who’s controlling the kiss, one hand sliding behind her neck, as the other braces against the wall at her back.
He rolls his hips, and she breaks the kiss as she moans against his smirking mouth, her hands grasping at him like she’s afraid he might disappear. Her eyes blink open and Raiden bites his bottom lip, flushing at the blatant desire in them.
“Shouldn’t look at me like that when you can’t take me to bed,” he whispers, staring just as intently as she is.
It seems to take her a moment before she can gather enough wits to respond.
“You shouldn’t hump me when I can’t take you to bed,” she finally snipes back, although her hands on his hips are far from discouraging him.
Raiden just snickers, not even a pause in his teasing undulation.
“Maybe, I’m giving you a reminder of what waits at the end of your shift.”
“Maybe, you’re just driving me to madness.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t want to do that. I just got you.”
She hums under her breath, staring at him for a moment before responding, voice soft.
“That you did.”
Her fingers gently run through his fringe, brushing it out of his face, and Raiden freezes in place, flushing so badly, Lucien can see it even from where they are.
“I- you-,” he stutters.
She laughs, grinning so fond and bright, it almost hurts Lucien to look at, a small, but strong, surge of yearning, spearing through their chest. They are so beautiful together, so good, and Lucien’s desire to see more has only been growing, as the distance between knight and assassin dwindled.
Luckily for Lucien, there have been indications of interest toward their own marvelous personage as well. The timing has not yet been right to show the good knight what is truly on offer, but as Lucien takes their leave, they decide they may need to… nudge things along.
***
“Unless you don’t mind one more for company?”
Something like glee, but slightly softer, had flickered to life in Lucien’s chest, the feeling warm, and intoxicating as spiced rum on a winters night. All they had done was arch an eyebrow, reaching out with a delicate touch to halt Raiden’s attempt to retreat. The assassin had responded beautifully as he always did, face lighting up in shades of pinked, tawny, brown skin. Lucien didn’t need to look to know, their gaze locked onto the enticing, and unknown, element, in their midst.
“A bold proposal, ambassador. Color me impressed.”
They’d smiled, slow, and wide, till it transformed into a teeth bared grin, a pinch of triumph when her pupils dilated in response.
“Assuming, of course, you have the mettle to follow through,” they’d finished.
She did have the mettle, endearingly so, although of course, she also had the pride of a born and bred noble, heeding their dare only to the minimum.
Lucien, was far from frustrated however. Even if they didn’t have the patience of a saint, a challenge is to be appreciated. Savored. A conviction the good ambassador seems to share.
However, it appears she is ready to commit now, if the whispers in the library can be believed. Seeing as the whisperers are none other than herself and Raiden; Lucien is a believer.
“I would have thought you’d be obnoxiously bold by now.”
Her voice is distinctly amused, and Lucien can imagine the half smug, half exasperatedly fond look on her face, as well as the skittish, flushed look no doubt gracing Raiden’s countenance.
The two of them are ensconced in a dark corner, and the demon hadn’t managed a glimpse before needing to pull back to prevent discovery. Lucien has been waiting to hear from them since the world shifted last night, but they are content to keep waiting until being sought out. This chance to eavesdrop is just a happy accident.
“It’s only been a few hours!” Raiden responds, a slight creak of leather on leather, as he shifts nervously.
There’s a lull in the conversation, as the ambassador hums under her breath.
“I suppose I may have ‘blown your mind,’ as they say.”
“Who’s being obnoxious now?” the assassin grumbles.
Lucien has to bite their lip against a threatening chuckle, but the ambassador doesn’t hesitate to laugh, at ease enough for it to even come close to a giggle.
“Perhaps my lips can convince you of the reality of your situation in another way.”
There’s the sound of silk skirts shifting, a sharp intake of breath, then the unmistakable sound of enthusiastic kissing.
Lucien smiles, wishing they could see what is an undoubtedly striking scene. The calm, capable, ambassador, beautiful and dangerous as a poisonous flower, and the snake, so ready to rush headlong into danger, until it’s the sort of danger that tempts him to hope for a measure of peace.
This development is still new enough that Lucien slips unnoticed from the library to give it time to grow as the two of them wish it to. The ambassador is not a shy woman, and Lucien has been led to believe there is a chance they will be invited to join even the intimate parts of the adventure they are all caught up in.
Lucien walks the hallways back to their quarters without the information they had sought, but rather with a slowly growing anticipation. Still, no one knows better than a demon, that the unexpected is to be expected, when dealing with the protagonist of an unfolding story. However, they would be lying if they said they didn’t hope for the honor of being at her side, at every climax she reaches.