Chapter Text
It was quiet in the kitchen, the loudest thing was the crackle of the fire in the hearth… and the quill scratching away Lucanis’ thoughts on parchment. He was not usually given to writing his thoughts, after all leaving a trail meant a short life for an assassin.
However, this was a way to keep the rampant thoughts from spiraling downward and into the darkness that threatened him on a daily basis. If it wasn’t Spite whispering incessantly in the recesses of his mind; it was his own trauma that wouldn’t let him rest. There was the coffee, always the best brew he could make with the limited resources of the Lighthouse. It wasn’t his favorite cafe in Antiva, but it would do, for the time being. As long as he kept Neve away from the kettle, he could be content with knowing a good cup was always waiting for him.
He stretched a kink out of his back and stared at the half filled parchment once more before setting quill to it.
Where to start with this? I hate writing, even when Caterina tried to get me to learn better penmanship. She would laugh at me for even saying that now, if I could hear her raspy voice one more … no, not that. Not now.
Anyway… who to start with? Emmrich perhaps? He can hear Spite which both amuses me but also concerns me that the demon could be plotting with the mortalitasi when I cannot interject. But also, he can soothe the damn demon and I’ve been able to get some sleep in the last few weeks. He often speaks out loud when he’s conversing with Spite, which is unnerving when I think on it, but it would be far worse if he remained silent while in communion with the demon forced upon me.
He intrigues me, a man so focused on learning the intricacies of the dead and recently departed but yet he fears his own end. I never had that luxury as a Crow, Caterina would never let me take my first contract if I’d shown a hint of the fear that drives Emmrich. Perhaps I should even call him Professor Volkarin whilst I write these …notes?
Or would offend his sensibilities? I dare not ask because he is too perceptive for anyone’s good, let alone his own. Too often I have noticed piercing brown eyes assessing me like a specimen for one of his lectures, or perhaps sussing out the careful layers I’ve put around my shattered heart. He cuts to the heart of the matter, just like Viago or Teia when they get an idea; or Caterina when she refused to let me get away with foolishness.
That’s what unnerves me the most, the way he seems to see right to my soul as if I am already one of his wards in the Necropolis. Though that would not be a bad way to spend my eternity.
No, we can’t go there. Its not safe, its not alright for me to think of him that way. He’s a learned man, a teacher, a good man who should not be sullied with who I’ve been made into by the demon. Who am I kidding, I was always this creature, Spite is just who I try to hide from the others. He’s the killer, the darkness now; and I’m a shadow of myself…
Lucanis’ quill stops as he realizes someone is also in the kitchen with him. He swallows and turns his head to notice Emmrich had leaned against the counter with his usual cup of evening tea. The older man was smiling at him gently, a curious gaze at the parchment under his fingers.
“A bit of late night capturing of your thoughts, Lucanis?” Emmrich asked quietly between sips of an herbal blend he brought back from Nevarra weekly.
“Ah, nothing work writing down is running through my mind Professor---” Lucanis starts to reply.
“I’ve told you Lucanis, you don’t have to be so formal with me. It makes me feel… decrepit” Emmrich said with a slightly put upon air.
“I’m sorry, Prof… I mean Emmrich. Its a habit ingrained in me from training with Caterina. After all, you must respect your betters.” Lucanis said as he turned over his journal, hopeful the pages wouldn’t smear after the perfunctory wave to dry the ink.
To his credit, Emmrich merely arched an eyebrow at the use of “betters” as he joined Lucanis at the table and waved his hands over the other man’s mug of cooled coffee. “That is how you prefer your coffee I believe?”
The Antivan picked up the steaming mug and grinned. “Yes, how did you know?”
“I am observant, comes with being an instructor. Also, I’ve heard you swear a blue streak often enough when your cup has gone cold. Mierda is the word I believe?” Emmrich asked with a mischievous little grin.
It was the assassin’s turn to grin as he took a hearty sip of his beloved coffee. “Just like I like it, thank you.. Emmrich” Lucanis tries the other man’s name out in his mouth, liking how it feels. He blushes as he thinks about how he’d like to know how other things of Emmrich’s would feel in his mouth. As his thoughts wander too far, he chokes on the hot drink and nearly loses his fight to breathe.
“My word, take a care Lucanis. If its too hot, I apologize!” Emmrich said as he leaned forward to rescue the mug in one hand and give a gentle slap to the other man’s back with the hand that for once is gloveless; exposing his hands to the firelight.
“I’m fine, I’m… fine. Just went down the wrong way is all.” Lucanis wheezed as he sat back down and grimaced at the whispering from his demon. “STOP IT SPITE.” he muttered angrily to the air.
“Oh he doesn’t mean---, oh… oh he.” Emmrich stammered as he passed the other man a glass of water to help ease his coughing.
Instead of taking the offered glass, Lucanis bolted away and into his pantry, slamming the door shut and swearing in colourful Antivan and Tevene swears that could barely be heard beyond the thick wooden door. After a moment he sat on his cot, head in hands as he continues to berate himself and yell at Spite at the same time.
“What Did You Leave For? He Was Only Hearing Your Thoughts From Me! He Is Nice, He Listens To Us. I Want To Talk To Him, We Want More Than To Talk To Him. Why Are You Afraid?” Spite Said In a low snarl, the odd reverberation that mocked his own speaking voice, irking him more than usual.
“WOULD YOU JUST SHUT UP?!’” Lucanis snapped, speaking out loud rather than in his head as usual to respond to the demon. Which he regretted as he heard the door swing shut.
“There are easier ways to have me let you be, Lucanis.” Emmrich said quietly as he leaned against the wall with the other man’s journal in his hands.
“Mierda… if other assassin’s don’t get me, I will die of humiliation at this rate.” Lucanis muttered before he turned to face his colleague. “Apologies, I was talking to Spite as he is feeling rather … talkative tonight.”
“It’s fine, he’s usually quite chatty with me as no one else can hear him besides you. I do understand if you’d rather ignore what he intimated he, or rather you would like to do … with me.” Emmrich held out the journal to the Antivan as he waited to see if Lucanis would try to bolt again or not.
To his credit, the assassin didn’t flinch as he took his journal back and flung it to the side table as he tried to act unconcerned. “He… shouldn’t have told you those things, I apologize Prof… Emmrich.”
Emmrich merely smiled as he approached the other man with that knowing grin that made Lucanis’ heart stutter just a bit. “My friend, if I can be so bold to call you that, perhaps more depending on how tonight goes… I am not offended or bothered by what Spite revealed of your … desires.”
Lucanis looked up to find the other man staring at him intently, but with a softness he had not noticed before. It seemed like a moment before he caught up with what the necromancer had actually said to him, about not being offended by Spite revealing the lustful thoughts that had distracted him.
“You… you’re not bothered? Why would you even consider someone like me? I’m … I’m…” Lucanis trailed off as the older man leaned in and gently caressed his face.
“You’re what?” Emmrich asked as he rested a warm hand against the assassin’s cheek as he awaited an answer.
Lucanis pulled away to pace and find words to express what was wrong with him, or what he thought was a good reason for the necromancer to run away from him. He stopped only when he felt a gentle hand upon his shoulder and heard the other man’s quiet voice asking him to hold still.
“You don’t have to answer me tonight Lucanis. I can tell you aren’t in a good place for us to start, or finish anything now that Spite has let the cat out of the bag. Try to get some rest and we can chat more over a cup of coffee in a couple days, hmm?” Emmrich gave him a gentle kiss on the forehead before letting the younger man salvage his dignity and the rest of the evening to gather himself.
“You … dammit.” Lucanis said as the pantry door swung shut with a soft click that was far too loud in his ears. “Stupid fuckin’ demon, you had to tell him, why did you tell him?” he said softly, just in case the other man was still in earshot.
“Because you are too afraid to admit the want, the lust, the care and desire you have for him. You. are. A. COWARD!” Spite answered before going eerily silent, letting Lucanis stew, with his only his own thoughts for the rest of the night; which he hates.