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"So, those soldiers…they are your family?"
Lucanis hadn't actually meant to ask the question, but the entire encounter had left him feeling strangely off-balance. An unexpected meeting in some backstreet bar where the lines between Dock Town and the neighboring district blurred, and the weirdest thing hadn't been that the group of Tevinter soldiers weren't mages in some respect.
It was that they knew Peregrine, and knew him in a way that was unkind in the way only family could be.
Peregrine frowned, brow furrowed as he examined a dagger at one of the shop stands. "'Family' is a bit of strong word," he replied at last, setting the dagger aside in favor of another. "The Mercars adopted me when I was... Hm. Five or so? But then my magic manifested around the time I was ten, so I was set on a different path than my 'brothers.' So, you know. No blood relation, but we were raised more or less together for a bit there."
Lucanis was quiet, absorbing this information as Peregrine thanked the shopkeeper for his time and began making his way to another booth with Lucanis trailing behind.
There were more questions on the tip of his tongue -- you were an orphan? What happened to your family? -- but the one that made its way out was, "And…that name they kept calling you? I didn't recognize it. Was that Tevene?"
Peregrine exhaled in a slow, deep sigh, coming to a stop off the main path.
"It was," he replied, and there was a shift in his tone, the words coming out careful, deliberate -- heavy, somehow. "It's Tevene for 'little cow.'"
"'Little… what?'" Lucanis stopped beside him, startled. "Why…what? What kind of an insult is that?"
Peregrine arched a golden brow at him, as if this were a silly question with a very obvious answer.
"I mean, I'm not as big as I was as a kid, but… you really can't make the connection? I'm fat? I have these marks on my face?" He waved a hand towards the birthmarks that spanned a portion of either side of his face, the one on his cheek edging down his neck, and shrugged. "Not the most inventive of shitty nicknames, sure, but my brothers never claimed to be particularly clever with their words."
Angry heat surged through Lucanis's veins, along with that deeper twisting in his gut that he associated with Spite stirring. "Those bastards! Where do they get off, talking to you like that? You're not even --"
Peregrine planted himself firmly in front of him as if it stop him from darting back to the bar, both eyebrows shooting up as Lucanis spoke. "I'm not even…? I mean, objectively, I am." He patted his stomach as if to emphasize his point.
"You're sturdy," Lucanis pointed out.
"Sure."
Lucanis narrowed his eyes. "You are, Peregrine."
"I'm not arguing," Perry replied blandly. "I'm built big, and always have been. I am also a bit on the fat side."
"That's no cause for them to--"
"--Lucanis. Stop." Peregrine placed both hands on the Crow's shoulders. Offered him a small smile -- one that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Listen, I appreciate whatever outrage you may be feeling right now on my behalf, but… I don't need it. Neither of us do." He removed one hand to hold up as Lucanis opened his mouth to speak, quieting him. "I've been some degree of fat my entire life, and I'm in a place now where I've more or less accepted it. What other people say, how they feel about it, how they look at me… I can't control any of that. I can't even prove them wrong, because it's true. But I've had a lot of time to work on understanding that my size? These marks on my face? They're not some indication of poor discipline, or my worth as a person. They just…are. And if people don't like that, well. That's their business. I'm not going to go out of my way to make it mine, too."
Lucanis was silent, searching those green eyes for an answer to a question he couldn't even begin to articulate. Tracked his gaze over the rounded curves of his cheeks under their golden-red stubble, along the soft edges of the birthmarks spanning a portion near one eye, and the cheek to his neck on the opposite side. Broad shoulders for a broad frame, thickset and yes, sturdy. Sturdy and steady, not unlike Peregrine himself beyond his mere physical presence. A comfort, Lucanis had always thought, and while the reality of Spite had kept him from reaching out the way he wanted to, he found in that moment he couldn't quite resist the urge to reach now, to touch, pressing the flat of his palm to Peregrine's chest and feeling the beat of his heart.
And that, too, was steady.
"You wouldn't even believe me, would you," he found himself asking after a long, long moment. "If I told you how beautiful you are?"And again that small, almost wry smile, Peregrine's free hand coming to rest over Lucanis's. Warm, callused, nails bitten to the quick. Strong, steady fingers.
"I can believe that you believe it," he replied quietly. "And I can still appreciate the sentiment."
Lucanis forced himself to relax, to let go of the tendrils of anger that had curled around him. Flipped his hand around to take Peregrine's into his own and, eyes never leaving Perry's, pressed a kiss to his knuckles. Watched as that quiet affirmation resulted in a truer smile on Peregrine's face, a dropping of the guardedness in those kind green eyes, and a gentle squeeze in response.
"We should get going," Peregrine said after a moment. "I think I remember where I saw that dagger I wanted to get for Harding."
"We should get her some more pots, too," Lucanis said, clearing his throat as the moment passed. "Give those plants of hers more space to grow."
"Yeah," Peregrine agreed. He gave Lucanis's hand a final squeeze before pulling back. "I think she'd like that."
And he started off again, Lucanis keeping step, and as they shopped the assassin continued to think.
Maybe he couldn't convince Peregrine of his own beauty, but maybe he didn't have to. Maybe Peregrine didn't need him to, or want him to.
Maybe he could just… keep being honest in his own admiration.
Maybe…maybe that was enough.