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Rook might be one of the nicest people in Thedas. Possibly the kindest.
They have not been in Dock Town long, but already their purses have grown considerably lighter. The elf’s bleeding heart is to blame, of course.
The city is filled with people who have lost their homes, their jobs. It’s not uncommon to find beggars on a corner, exhaustion and desperation clear on their faces. Most of their money trays are empty, either because most people in Dock Town are poor themselves, or because the rich don’t want to give their precious money away.
Rook is not one of those people.
Lucanis wonders if him being Dalish contributes to his almost compulsive need to give money away. From what little he knows of the Dalish, most of them are not so wealthy themselves. It could be that he sees himself in these people.
What is considerably more likely and something Lucanis simply doesn’t understand, is that Rook does not have a reason for being kind. He simply is. It’s an inherent personality trait.
It’s clear in not just giving money away. It’s in the way he stops for almost every cat, to pet and feed it treats. It’s in the way he stops for everyone who tries to get his attention, ready to run around the city to soothe their fears, not asking for anything in return.
It’s in the way he acts like Lucanis is not a monster. How he treats Spite and him with respect and compassion. With patience, even when it’s the hundredth time he apologizes for falling asleep and allowing Spite to sleepwalk them into Rook’s room.
Even their friends are showered in his kindness. A personalized gift here, a shoulder to cry on there.
He wonders how Rook manages it. How, despite all the horror and misery they have seen and experienced, he remains kind.
Lucanis thought it would drive him mad in the beginning. This thin, young Dalish elf, giving his heart away like it’s nothing. Like there aren’t a million reasons why that is a bad idea.
Believing the world to be good is nice on paper, but it doesn’t translate well into the real world. Especially not in the places they visit.
He sees Neve’s eyes follow Rook, her expression calm, but the glint in her eyes give her worry away. Lucanis understands, because he is doing the same.
Dock Town is dangerous on its best day and downright lethal on its worst. The others have agreed unanimously that Rook is not allowed to wander around on his own. He has a tendency to walk into situations that end in him crying over people who, moments before, were trying to kill him.
Another thing that baffles Lucanis. It’s one thing to extend your kindness to the poor, the innocent.
It’s another entirely to extend it to your enemies. But somehow, Rook does it like it’s easy.
He knows that the others share his view in this, that it’s maddening and dangerous. To open your heart to blatant betrayal is not just threatening to your physical body. It affects your mind as well.
Every time Rook has to fight, — something he already tries his best to avoid — it’s almost inevitable that there will be tears.
Lucanis is of the belief that everyone they fight don’t deserve to live in the first place. Slavers, murderers, people who kill for fun and bathe in the blood they draw. Death is too good for them.
He has tried to explain this to Rook. Neve has tried to explain this to Rook. Even Bellara tried her hand at it. But everytime Rook says, ‘I know, but they’re people, too’ they have to give up. This is just who Rook is. The kindest man in Thedas.
Neve snaps to attention from beside him, an exasperated look on her face before she storms after Rook, who has managed to wander off once more. He is easily tricked and distracted, which means that half the time, someone has to hold his hand when they go places.
Some of the others try and pretend they’re annoyed, but they can’t fake the smile they get when Rook’s fingers curl around theirs. Even Lucanis can not resist, although he is usually not the one that gets to hold him.
Rook turns to Neve when she grabs his hand. He says something to her and laughs, the vallaslin on his face following the movements of the muscles. Lucanis sees Neve roll her eyes fondly, tugging at his hand to get him to follow her.
They’re here to speak to one of Neve’s contacts, but they’re late. So, naturally, Rook suggested they go to the markets. Neve left a note at the meeting spot to let her contact know where to find her.
Lucanis likes this. Being with Rook (and Neve), watching him spread his care and tenderness while looking out for anyone who wants to take advantage of that. Even Spite seems more relaxed during these outings. Or maybe it’s just Rook that brings it out in him.
Chocolate and honey. He is. Happy.
Spite’s words are grumbled, but the demon contorts his face into as much of a smile that he can manage. It’s still odd, to see his own face on a spectral body.
Out of the corner of his eye, he sees a familiar man approach Neve and Rook. Her contact, Elek.
As is typical, Lucanis does not trust him. He has the roguish grin that a lot of the scam artists around here wear. The one that says ‘I know exactly how to get you to fall for my schemes’.
Lucanis is glad Neve is with Rook. The last time Rook was alone with Elek Tavor, he returned to the Lighthouse and showed off a charm to Lucanis, excitedly talking about how Elek had sworn it was made of wyvern scales. Taash did not have the heart to tell the elf that it was a varghest scale, so Neve did.
The man had made it up to Rook by giving him one that was made of wyvern scales (that Rook of course immediately gifted to Lucanis), but Lucanis decided he was on thin ice.
They were lucky that they could not hear Spite. Lucanis’ ears were ringing for hours afterward, having had to listen to the demon rage.
He watches the three of them interact from where he’s leaning against a wall. If it’s important, Rook and Neve will tell him about it afterwards.
Neve has her teasing face on, raising an eyebrow at Elek. The man’s lips turn into a grin as he winks at Rook. Rook himself smiles, of course, before grabbing Elek’s hand.
Lucanis frowns, the ever present pit in his stomach twisting. This is not a new thing for Rook. He’s incredibly tactile, constantly holding people’s hands, hugging them. The usual victim is often Bellara, who doesn’t really fall under the word victim with how much she enjoys it.
The fact that this is something Rook does often does not mean he has to like it. Especially not when he’s holding the hand of someone who works for the Threads. And who has already scammed Rook once.
Rook swings their hands softly side to side while Elek and Neve talk business, presumably. Lucanis’ attention focuses on the way Rook’s thumb rubs gentle circles into Elek’s glove.
He looks down at his own covered hands. Despite how much Rook likes holding hands, Lucanis has not really been the recipient often. Usually, it’s the other person in their group that gets the honor.
You want. To hold his hand!
He sighs, putting his hands on his hips while Spite stares at him in his peripheral vision. If only he could lock his wants and emotions away from Spite.
Why doesn’t he?
It’s a good question. One that Lucanis will simply never ask.
Spite groans in frustration.
Combined with the fact that Lucanis is already not that well versed in romance — the books he reads don’t count! — and the fact that, for how free Rook is with his emotions, it’s hard to tell if he is interested, Lucanis doesn’t think he could ask it even if he wanted to.
Nevermind the fact that he is a little bitter about Illario and even Viago getting to hold his hand before he has.
Maybe Rook has realized how wrong Lucanis is inside, how messed up. He understands why he wouldn’t want to get too close to him. He’s a killer, something Rook is vehemently against.
But no, that doesn’t seem right. Sure, Lucanis believes it, but if Rook cries over Venatori dying, then there is no way he would judge him and stay away out of fear. Rook wasn’t even afraid when he felt his possession the day they met in the Ossuary.
Rook’s distinct giggle reaches his ears and he is helpless but to look up. His red curls bounce with his giggles and the way he rocks himself back and forth from the tips of his toes to his ankles. Lucanis feels the pit in his stomach grow as he watches him hug Elek’s arm to his chest, delight clear on his face.
This was worse than when Illario flirted with the crushes he had when he was younger. Worse, even, than Viago’s rejection (even if it was likely he had not gotten the hint, perhaps it was a bit confusing gifting a dagger without proper explanation).
Rook is. Stupid! Should look at us, not HIM.
Lucanis pinches the bridge of his nose in an attempt to ward off the headache he is sure to get if Spite continues like that.
Maybe he should go for a walk, clear his mind. Neve is there to watch Rook’s back, they won’t miss him.
Just as he’s about to walk off, the recognizable sound of Neve’s prosthetic comes closer. He looks up and Rook is with her, thankfully without Elek.
“Going so soon?” Neve asks, expression knowing. Lucanis hopes his beard hides most of the blush he feels spreading.
He clears his throat, “No. Just… stretching my legs.”
Everyone but Rook would catch the obvious lie. Neve clearly does. But Rook just looks concerned, eyes falling to his legs. “Are you okay? I’m sorry we kept you waiting so long. Do we need to find you a seat?”
It’s endearing, how much Rook cares. Lucanis is not really sure he is capable of accepting it right now.
“I’m fine.”
Rook looks like he doesn’t quite believe him, but Lucanis thinks he can feel the atmosphere, because he doesn’t ask more. His fingers fidget with the tips of his gloves, a telltale sign that he is still worried.
Let me talk to him!
Great, now the headache is really building.
Thankfully, Neve comes to the rescue, “I got what I needed. Let’s head back to the Lighthouse. Perhaps Lucanis can make you some more hot chocolate, hm?”
Oh, Maker take her. She gives him a sly smile when Rook jumps up and down in excitement.
Who is he to deny when Rook looks that delighted about a simple hot drink? He’s already thinking of what to make that pairs well with it as they head back to the eluvian.
Once they return to the Lighthouse, Neve takes Rook back to her room and Lucanis is left alone to start dinner. Well, at least he enjoys cooking.
He makes churros to go with Rook’s cioccolata calda, something he’s sure the other will like. Spite always feels more calm when he is cooking, just like himself. It’s relaxing.
Lucanis is busy making the hot chocolate when the doors open and in walks Rook.
Rook is always dressed down in the Lighthouse, in an outfit that clearly shows off his Veil Jumper pride. Barefoot, too. He wonders if it’s a Dalish thing. Although Bellara and Davrin are never barefoot.
Maybe it’s just a Rook thing.
“Hi.” His voice is soft, like he doesn’t want to disturb the silence Lucanis has been maintaining. Like he doesn’t know that his voice is a comfort to him, ever since the Ossuary.
Lucanis returns his attention back to what he was doing, “Rook. I hope you’re not here to help.”
He can’t help but tease the man with something everyone in the Lighthouse knows is a disaster. Rook is not allowed near the stove or any sharp objects anymore, considering he managed to catch fire to water and then almost slipped onto a knife.
He can hear his pout, something that should not be possible. Spite sniffs Rook, something he’s been trying to get him to stop doing, Smells like nerves and. Spite’s voice turns into a growl. Elek!
Lucanis almost drops what he’s holding at the demon’s words. Mierda, he touched Elek so long that Spite can still smell it on him?
“No, I just wanted to see you.”
Rook is always so genuine. It makes it hard to try and convince his heart that he doesn’t mean it like that.
“…Ah. Something wrong?”
He looks up and sees Rook struggle with his words, his expression complicated. Lucanis has to put down whatever he is holding.
“No. Uh, Neve, she… told me something. That, um, cleared things up for me,” says Rook in a small voice. Lucanis is too old and professional to get sweaty palms, and yet. He subtly rubs them against his pants.
“What did she say?”
“That… were you upset that I held Elek’s hand?” His fingers dig into his own hand, something Lucanis has seen Rook do many times. It’s often subconsciously done in moments of stress, like now.
Spite buzzes eagerly from beside him, Yes! Say it!
Lucanis clears his throat, “Why would I be upset? You can do whatever you want to do, Rook.”
Rook’s expression turns even more confused than he had been. He almost draws blood in his internal turmoil. “But Neve said—! …I’m confused. Were you… not upset?”
Spite decides to try yelling to get his point across. TELL HIM.
A deep sigh escapes Lucanis’ mouth. It’s best to tell him. Both because he doesn’t want him to actually draw blood in his distress and because he is tired of being afraid to want Rook. If he says it, Rook can reject him and he can hopefully move on.
“I was. I do not understand why you hold everyone’s hand… but mine.” Lucanis puts his hands on his hips, looking away. A weight falls off his shoulders.
Rook is quiet for a moment, before he starts talking with a kind but nervous tone. “I… did not think you wanted me to. I thought that perhaps you were worried Spite would do something, or… I don’t know, you sometimes seem to turn away from touch. I didn’t want to draw attention to it if it was something you didn’t want.”
Oh bless and curse his kind soul. Ever since Rook showed up in the Ossuary to break him out, he has been stern in making it clear to Lucanis that he will never take away his choices again. He knows Lucanis has never really felt like his life was his own, that choices were always being made for him.
This is one of the few times where Lucanis wouldn’t have minded to not have a choice. Because the choice would have been yes regardless.
The elf winces when he draws blood and realizes what his fingers have been doing without his permission. He hides his hands behind his back, nervously waiting for Lucanis’ response.
Oh, yes, he has to respond.
Spite laughs at him.
“Rook, I want to hold your hand.”
Rook visibly brightens, shaking his hands in excitement. He grabs ahold of Lucanis’ hand, intertwining their fingers. His skin is warm and surprisingly soft, for someone who is wielding a staff all day.
Lucanis has never felt more content and at peace. Even Spite is quiet, witnessing the moment.
Rook hugs his hand to his chest like he had done with Elek’s hours before. Smells like. Lucanis!
He realises how fond he must look right now, but with Spite being their only witness, he can’t find it in himself to care. He’s finally getting to hold the hand of the boy he likes.
Rook brings their intertwined hands to his cheek, closing his eyes. Lucanis wants to kiss him.
One step at a time. There’s no rush.
(Rook laughs at him afterwards for burning dinner.)