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He watches her. She is graceful; everything she does seems riddled with poise and elegance, even when she is, by all accounts, being reckless. Especially when she is reckless. Through Lucanis’ eyes, Spite watches Rook dart between enemies, a blur of power and beauty, her laughter ringing like a battle hymn. She is chaos and control in equal measure, and he hates how deeply he admires it. It’s not his admiration—it’s Lucanis’. It must be.
But then Rook pauses, leaning on a crate to catch her breath, and Lucanis looks at her with a softness Spite can’t reconcile to anything he has known in his existence. His host is smiling, watching her brush a strand of hair from her cheek with a gloved hand. The action is insignificant, trivial, yet it stirs something in him. It bothers him.
“What are you smiling at?” he growls inside Lucanis’ mind. He feels the faintest flicker of Lucanis’ amusement in response, and Spite loathes it.
“You’re the one watching her,” Lucanis says smoothly, and Spite feels a rabid urge to pummel the rogue. He wants to snap back, but the truth stifles him. He is watching her.
It’s subtle at first, this fixation. Spite tells himself it’s because Rook is a distraction. Something that leaves Lucanis vulnerable, unfocused. Her sharp wit and the way she smiles just slightly after landing a particularly scathing jab—it’s merely an irritation. That is all. She’s too clever for her own good, always dragging Lucanis into situations that could get him killed. But then Spite realizes that every time she risks herself, Lucanis follows, not with exasperation, but devotion.
She’s dangerous, Spite warns him during one of their quieter moments, though the severity in his gravelly voice is lacking.
Lucanis says nothing, but the warmth in his chest is answer enough. And that warmth seeps into Spite, making him fester in a sea of comfort and security. Ugh. He tries to shove it down, to ignore the strange pull he feels every time Rook smiles, every time her voice lilts in that teasing way that makes Lucanis’ heart race. Every time, it is a surprise… Each time, he fails to ignore what is becoming the apple of his eye.
When Lucanis and Rook finally come together, Spite tries to shut it out. He tries not to feel the way Lucanis’ hands thread through her hair, or how her breath hitches when his lips graze her neck. But demons are not meant to feel love, to crave anything but destruction, and this... while destroying him, is unlike any destruction he has ever known. It burns, but it doesn’t hurt—it soothes. It consumes him in a way he cannot explain, and he hates it.
No, he hates her.
He tells himself that lie every time he catches himself yearning for her presence, for the sweet sound of her voice, for the heat in her gaze. And though truth claws at him, merciless, he cannot admit it.
At the very moment of Solas’ betrayal, Spite loses himself. Lucanis’ grief is overwhelming, and Spite feeds on it like a starving beast, twisting it into rage, into something violent and entirely too familiar.
“Basta. Enough, Spite,” Lucanis whispers, though his voice shakes. Spite wants to roar, to break free and tear apart whatever stands in their way, but he feels it—the calm, the restraint. Lucanis grounds him, pulling him back from the edge, and he knows in that moment that it is not Lucanis’ grief that binds him. It is his own.
She is gone. The thought tears him apart, leaving him hollow in a way he has never experienced. And when she returns, when she steps out from a prison meant to house the very gods set on blighting the world, Spite cannot hold back.
Through Lucanis, he embraces her, feeling the soft strength of her body against theirs. He doesn’t let himself think as he pulls her closer, his lips meeting hers in a kiss that is scorching, searing into her everything he cannot say. Lucanis doesn’t stop him—he feels the same, after all.
When Rook pulls back, breathless, Spite says nothing. He hides behind Lucanis’ silence, letting the Crow’s emotions speak for both of them. But deep inside, a quiet truth blooms.
For as long as he is bound to Lucanis, Spite will follow her. He will fight for her, bleed for her, and hope against his own nature that she never leaves them.