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Rook was a nosy individual.
It wasn’t a trait they were especially proud of. But then again it had saved their skin on numerous occasions, even before becoming embroiled in Varric’s Solas-shaped shenanigans.
Nowadays, Rook found that their almost unconscious ability to snoop most-often reared its mischievous head when it came to their friends. Each one of them seemed to carry burdens heavier than most mortals. And maybe things just appeared heightened under the pressure of the literal end of the world. Or perhaps Varric was on to something when he said ‘the best people have the biggest problems’.
There were pressing matters at hand, true. Elgar’nan seemed to be planning something troubling in Arlathan Forest with the Venatori. The Aantam had both Treviso and the Rivain coast in a chokehold. Not to mention the blasted Blight and darkspawn wrecking havoc across the entirety of Thedas. But even so, Rook found the vast majority of their attention drawn towards the most mundane of discussions.
Especially- it was worth noting- when Lucanis ‘the reason to get out of bed in the morning’ Dellamorte was involved.
Rook had been practicing their balance work from atop the balcony railing overlooking the Lighthouse courtyard when they spotted their Antivan beau crossing the cobblestones towards Bellara’s rooms, a large crate held in his arms.
Their intrigue got the better of them almost instantaneously. And so following a swift and skilled dismount, Rook paddled down the stairs barefoot towards Bellara’s workshop.
The door was still slightly ajar as Rook approached, lessening any guilt they may have harbored for eavesdropping significantly.
Without even catching sight of either of them, Rook could hear Bellara’s reverberating excitement in the form of bouncing jumps and a high-pitched shrill.
“There’s so many! Are these part of a series?” Bellara was clearly ecstatic with whatever it was Lucanis has brought her.
Rook peaked their head through the threshold of the door just in time to see Lucanis brandish three more books out of his crate, adding to the small pile in Bellara’s hands,
“That’s the fourth and fifth, the first three are here.”
“There’s five?!”
“And I hear the author is working on the next installment.”
The Antivan shared in his companion’s excitement, something Rook took note of in the way Lucanis’s shoulders had relaxed, any and all usual tension knotted up within them having depleted. His eyes seemed wider too, the heavy lines of purple oft weighing beneath them much fainter now, less a sign of restless burden.
“This is so exciting! And you keep them all so pristine.”
Lucanis held the next book in his hands up to his chest, offering Bellara a judging, but not wholly serious scowl,
“You’re not a page-folder, are you? I’ve killed for less.”
“‘Wouldn’t dream of it!” The elf shook her head, much to the Crow’s sighing relief.
“Here, this is the one I was telling you about.” He relented, handing over the book in his heads with great care, “I’m going to suggest it for the book club.”
Bellara gasped as she flicked through the pages, skimming over its words,
“This’ll be perfect!” She beamed, at which point Rook’s fast-dwindling patience for being a fly-on-the-wall had dissolved entirely.
They pushed open the door further, swaggering inside with a jovial innocence that seemed to trick the mage but not-at-all Lucanis. Granted, Rook surmised, the Crow could place people by the sound of their footsteps- with or without the demon strapped to his shoulder.
“What’s going on here?” Rook grinned, all charming and mischievous teeth.
“Rook! Hi!” Bellara gushed, showing off the collection of novels she’d strewn across her work bench,
“Lucanis is lending me some of his books to help inspire my own story.”
And while Rook had thought as much the moment he took notice of book and Bellara in the same general vicinity, what Rook hadn’t entirely compartmentalised was where Lucanis fit into any of that.
Rook knew Lucanis. Or at least they liked to think they had broken through that outer shell of his in order to get a sense of the real man beneath the surface. The one who had for so long been living with restless yearning to be released and cared for and treated as someone with vast, tangible emotions and not just a killing machine.
They had stopped Zara Renata together and made sure Illario was sufficiently grovelling under the boot heel of every other Crow for his vicious betrayal. Lucanis had found common ground with Spite in their shared trauma, and seemed to be happy enough co-existing if it meant killing Venatori and letting Spite occasionally have Rook’s attention with a game of chess.
But at that same time, their relationship was exactly that. Or rather, of the same little substance, at least in the realm of physicality. No, assuming their relationship was ‘lacking’ in any sense felt wholly inappropriate, and grossly unfair to the very real and very deep emotional attachment Rook knew they felt for one another.
They had been inside Lucanis’s head, seen the very pulsating beat of his affection, warm and mighty and proudly unshakable with his new-found sense of self-acceptance. Similarly, Rook was familiar enough with their own mind to understand that there was no word more suitably matched to their feelings than love. Not the kind of love that one might hold for a friend or a sibling or a pair of sentimental winter gloves. No, Rook was in love with Lucanis with a soul-shattering urgency that was at once exhausting and yet entirely intoxicating. In fact there was no alternative beyond merely basking in one another’s company that seemed nearly as important.
What Rook meant- in the very abstract wanderings of their own mind- was that Lucanis had never tried to kiss them.
And that was fine. Truly. Rook might have had carnal urges about Lucanis and his broad shoulders and his tight waist and whether or not he tasted like coffee and also what he tasted like elsewhere-
But Rook could happily live with their imagination and their own hand if Lucanis never desired anything beyond gentle words of devotion. The Crow had survived for far too long under the ruling thumb of others. It was high time Lucanis be allowed some agency over his own body, inside and out.
Though in spite of all of these undeniable truths, there too was the beguiling contradiction of Lucanis’s very existence as an assassin- the most revered amongst his entire order- and the man who was currently sharing trashy romantic novels with his friend.
“These are your books?” Rook couldn’t help themself from asking, brows raised so high they might as well have rolled over the back of their scalp.
“Teia had a courier bring them for me. I wanted to share my collection with Bellara.” Lucanis hummed, his head half-buried inside of the crate of books, still pouring excitedly over its contents.
Rook joined him at the desk, picking up the book at the top of the pile,
“These are romance novels?” They smiled, flicking through the pages absently.
They were indeed kept in pristine condition, just as Bellara had said. In fact Rook half-wondered if Lucanis had even read them at all, or if he just liked the look of them. Rook never would completely understand the reasonings of the wealthy.
Lucanis remained unphased by the question, which surprised Rook even further.
“Yes.” Was all the Crow responded with, causing Rook to probe further.
“Your romance novels?”
Lucanis stilled. He looked up to Rook, frowning,
“What’s so funny?”
His glare was obvious. The kind of look he’d give Davrin after he’d said something Lucanis deemed to be especially anal, or the stink-face he’d make whenever he was dragged along to the Necropolis.
It wasn’t a look Rook was especially privy to themselves however, and so found swift need to deflect,
“Nothing’s funny. It’s just… Courting the Countess? Orlesian Attraction?” Rook defended, offering a lame shrug,
”It’s not what I expected, that’s all.”
Lucanis regarded that for a swift, silent moment. And then all at once he stood straight, shoulders back and chin turned up-
“Well, I’m sorry to disappoint you.” He huffed out, his knees knocking awkwardly against the crate of books, and again on Bellara’s chair as he stepped around her, barging his way past Rook and towards the door.
“That’s not what I-“ Rook tried haplessly, “Lucanis…”
But there was no stopping the Crow when his mind was set on something, even if that something was a shoddy attempt at a dramatic exit.
Rook cringed as the door thudded closed, immediately swamped by an immense sense of dread.
“Was I really horrible just now?” They croaked out, turning to look at Bellara, who was trying awfully hard to look busy rather than let herself be privy to Rook and Lucanis’s domestic altercation.
“No. Well- maybe. No.” The elf juggled with her words, eventually settling on a bleak attempt at a grin that looked painful before anything else,
“But you did embarrass him…”
Rook didn’t need telling that much; something which only succeeded in making the matter a whole lot more pitiful.
“I didn’t mean to.” Rook lamented, looking down into Lucanis’s box of treasures, “I think this is all really sweet... I like that he’s so surprising."
“Then why didn’t you say that?”
Lack of sense? General miscommunication? Rook’s intrinsic inability to not turn every possible situation into a joke? None of those were good enough excuses.
“…Shit.” They breathed, to Bellara’s humming agreement.
“Yeah. Shit.”
But in spite of their tendency to crack a joke, Rook’s most prominent trait was undoubtedly their unshakable optimism. They could fix this; it would be a piece of cake.
Rook looked back into the box of books, picking up the one at the top of the pile,
“Could I borrow this?”
With Bellara’s approval and quiet cheer of good luck, Rook left the mage’s workshop and marched immediately across the Lighthouse courtyard towards the dining hall.
Apologize to Lucanis (easy, given the sincerity behind it). Ask to learn about interest in romance novels (again, sincere). Suggest lazy mid-morning cuddle while Lucanis reads said-romance book to Rook (purely self-indulgent).
The plan was full-proof. Rook was so sure of it in fact, that they didn’t notice Davrin hurrying down the boardwalk from his own room until he was at Rook’s side, voice loud and urgent-
“Rook! Antione and Evka sent word. We best get to Lavendel.”
Bloody hell. Of course. How dare Rook think for a moment that they had any time for anything even remotely selfish.
Rook looked back towards the door to the dining hall, a slight pang of guilt lodging its way into their gut. Lucanis wasn’t going anywhere, Rook reasoned. And perhaps a little space was what the both of them needed to get their thoughts in order. If Rook were burst into the pantry now to apologise, it might only succeed in making the matter ten-times worse.
And so they agreed with Davrin’s sentiment, gearing up and heading straight for the Eluvian room with Taash, who was- as always- eager for a fight. Because in truth, unless Elgar’nan or Ghilan’nain were knocking on the Lighthouse front door, there were little more pressing issues to attend than containing the Blight.
Matters of the heart could wait for a day or two. They could also benefit from the romantic novel Rook was sure to tuck safely inside their travel bag before venturing off into the Wetlands.
*
Rook decided- a brutal, muscle-weary two days later- that they did not understand romance. At least not the type to be put to paper.
Granted, perhaps they were not exactly in the right frame of mind to digest the words on evenings camped out on a tired old bedroll after hours of hacking through Darkspawn.
But that book… if Rook never heard the words ‘enamoured’ or ‘throbbing’ ever again it would be too soon. No, had the book not belonged to Lucanis, then To Court an Orlesian would have drowned in the Hossburg’s deepest shit water for all Rook cared.
They had been so wrapped up in their exhaustion from fighting and their scorn for the literature that Rook hadn’t even realised the rest of the team were all chattering away in the Lighthouse library until they heard the collective groan of Davrin and Taash, both excusing themselves immediately to their rooms to escape the dreaded Book Club.
Rook found themselves holding back, keeping behind the general shade of the stairwell to listen in on their friends’ gathering. Or more specifically, to see how Lucanis was doing.
“The romance wasn’t for you, Lace?” Bellara hummed, her feet tucked under herself, a warm mug of tea in her hands.
“Hardly. The Duke sucks. Esmind should have gotten with the Carriage Driver.”
Neve clinked her glass of wine against Lace’s own,
“Agreed. There’s a slow burn and then there’s waiting around for nothing.”
But Emmrich shook his head,
“I for one thought it was romantic how reserved the Duke remained. Being so hostile with Esmind until it truly mattered shows us just how devoted he had been all along!”
And then Rook craned his neck to spot Lucanis, tucked up small inside Rook’s usual armchair.
“I wouldn’t call him hostile…” The Antivan murmured, his brows knit tight.
“The Duke was all talk talk talk. But the Driver, he was much more upfront. It was sexy.”
Lace’s bluntness was met by a chirp of laughter by all but one-
“He doesn’t understand Esmind. Not like the Duke.” Lucanis remained firm, an air of immense seriousness about him that felt entirely too weighty for the situation.
His defensive nature seemed lost on the others however, and Lace continued in her reasoning,
“The Duke spent half of the book beating around the bush. By the end I was fed of up of waiting for him to get on with it!”
“Why bother reading to the end if you hated it?”
The dwarf retreated slightly, taken aback by Lucanis’s rising tone.
“I didn’t hate it. The fight scenes were cool, and I loved Esmind. But the romance… the Duke, he was just too, I dunno, frigid?”
“Just because he doesn’t want to jump into bed the moment he lays eyes on someone doesn’t mean he’s frigid.”
Rook felt a cold chill overwhelm them, as though a demon’s frosty breath had caught at the back of their neck and began to ripple its way along their skin.
Intimacy was very-clearly a sensitive subject for Lucanis. It was exactly why Rook had been so baffled by the Crow’s interest in smutty literature in the first place.
A sudden, very powerful need to protect Lucanis and his fragile heart presented in the acidic taste of bile rising up in Rook’s throat. They swallowed it back, determined still to give Lucanis the opportunity to speak for himself, a right he had been so frugally afforded in life thus-far.
Instead Harding doubled-down, not trying to argue with Lucanis, but instead appease her friend’s very-obvious frustrations.
“That’s not what I’m saying. But half of the time he was so closed off I couldn’t tell if he even liked Esmind at all.”
“Of course he does!” Lucanis snapped, springing up from his seat, his fingernails digging into his own palms.
Neve raised a cautious hand, much-more skilled in appealing to Lucanis’s complex nature.
“It’s just a book. It’s not personal.” She spoke calmly.
“Right.” Antivan settled, if only slightly.
He swallowed, bowing his head, and then all at once he made his leave, departing from the library with an echoing thud of grand doors and little else in the way of a goodbye.
“What was that all about?” Harding looked around the group, clearly very shaken to have apparently upset her friend.
“He said it was his favourite…” Bellara shrugged, her voice small.
“That’s fine, but it doesn’t mean it needs to be everyone else's." Lace gnawed at her bottom lip, and made to stand, “He seems really upset. Should I go talk to him?”
Neve shook her head,
“Let him cool off. It’s clearly something else that’s bothering him.”
“Let’s not talk about it now while Lucanis isn’t here to say his piece.” Emmrich agreed, clapping his hands, “How about we decide on our next book? Neve, I believe it is your turn?”
It was a sentiment Rook wholeheartedly agreed with, as well as their signal to make a move. They abandoned their weapons and travel bag on the floor, though not before rummaging quickly for the novel and holding it close.
As they emerged from the shadows of the stairwell, Bellara was the only oe of the small group to catch their leader’s eye.
She remained silent, granting Rook the chance to make their swift leave; only offering them the slightest of nods, wordlessly understanding Rook’s intention and championing them onwards.
*
Out of polite necessity if nothing more, Rook decided for perhaps the first time ever to knock on the pantry door before entering. It seems fruitless, given Lucanis would've recognised their footsteps long before the echoing rattle of their knuckles against wood.
It was unsurprising that the Crow didn’t answer the call therefore. Though this did not stop Rook from slipping inside the pantry anyway, resting back against the door as they pushed it closed.
“You’re back.“ Lucanis spoke matter-of-factly. And then his eyes suddenly locked on to the book Rook held in their hands,
“What are you doing with that?”
Rook took a breath, gripping the book tighter,
“I wanted to-“
“Mock me like everybody else?”
“No one is.” Rook shook their head, taking a few steps forward and silently thankful to find Lucanis did not retreat, “I was trying to understand you better… to apologise…”
The Crow sighed, loosening his shirt collar before collapsing to sit down on his bed roll.
“You needn’t bother.” He huffed out, nodding to the book in Rook’s hands, “Besides. That one is kind of terrible.”
The weight loosening from Rook’s shoulders was an immediate relief. They smiled widely, in spite of the circumstances,
“Yeah it was.” They agreed with an eager nod, crossing the small room to sit down beside Lucanis, letting their knees knock against one-another.
Lucanis’s gaze remained fixed to that space between them. The slightest of touches, yet still so utterly electric.
“You don’t need to apologise about what happened the other day. Your reaction was entirely fair.” He admitted woefully.
“It was a surprise, I’ll admit. But that doesn’t mean it was a bad one.” Rook conceded, and then decided it was time to settle, asking cautiously,
“Lucanis… what happened back there… it’s about more than the books, isn’t it?”
The Antivan’s eyes fell closed, his face twisting with a subtle kind of pain.
“Please, Rook. Leave it alone.”
Rook was terrible at doing that. It was how they had found themselves entangled in a vast majority of situations both past and present. It was certainly the reason why they had an ancient elven god rattling around in their head when they dreamed. And more so, it was the very same trait that had allowed them to break down Lucanis’s defences and to come to know the marvellous man that had tried to hide himself beneath.
Lucanis did not flinch when Rook took his hand in their own, but still that aching hesitation remained.
“Talk to me. Help me understand.” Rook pressed, leaning in as close as they dared without resting their forehead against Lucanis’s own.
“You won’t.” The Crow shook his head.
“Try me.” Rook closed the distance, brushing their nose lightly against Lucanis’s, causing the man’s breath to catch,
“You know that I care about you.”
“Rather bafflingly…” Lucanis moved to turn his head away, but in the same instant Rook had hardened their own resolve, bringing their other hand up to rest at the Antivan’s cheek.
“It’s nothing of the sort.” Rook pressed on, their eyes wide with wondrous honesty, “I think you’re fantastic.”
The admission stunned Lucanis into silence, a warm blush immediately snaking up his neck and leaving a pink tint on his cheeks.
His eyes were the giveaway of his own silent desire, fluttering downwards and remaining fixed on Rook’s lips.
Lucanis had to have at least kissed someone before, Rook surmised. The man had all-but admitted as much the first time they went for coffee together. Then again, that talk on kisses and coffee notes could have been another of those immense contradictions of his, just like his apparent love for literary copulation.
None of this theorising actually mattered, however, the moment Lucanis brought it upon himself to be the one to close the distance between them.
His lips were firm, but remained almost unnaturally still. As though he had thrust his face forward without any real idea of what would happen after that. The force of it knocked against Rook’s teeth, something they might have realised kind of hurt if they could think about anything other than- holy shit holy shit holy shit!
The moment Rook’s lips pushed back against Lucanis’s own, the Crow seemed to get his act together and figure out how to kiss properly. His hand found its way up to Rook’s neck, his thumb fanning out to brush at their jaw and encouraging Rook to open up under him.
With a gasping breath Rook deepened the kiss, gripping Lucanis’s hand tightly as they leant in closer, chasing after the soft warmth of the man’s lips with a near-frantic eagerness.
Soon enough Lucanis made a noise of protest that rumbled from the back of his throat, and drew himself away, kissing Rook once at the cheek before dropping his face to their shoulder.
“I think… that’s enough for me. For now.” Lucanis spoke slowly, as though fearful of his own words. “That is what this was about. You understand?”
Rook willed themselves to calm down, taking in Lucanis’s cautious words and letting them play over in their mind. The pieces slotted together easily.
The books. The experience they offered. A space to try and understand.
The kiss. Unsure, but urgently willing all the same.
“I think I do.” Rook nodded small, “And it’s alright.”
“You- uh- you also stink of Blight and bog water...” Lucanis admitted quietly, much to Rook’s chuckling amusement.
“Understood.” They nodded, leaning back to take a whiff of themselves and- Yep. Lucanis was right.
“Sorry.” The Crow winced, choosing to absently play with Rook’s hand rather than look them in the eye.
“We didn’t go through everything we have done for that to be enough to disway me.” Rook promised, squeezing at Lucanis’s fingers, “Nor your taste in literature. And especially not the other thing.”
Lucanis made a noise again, this time a whole lot sadder,
“You talk as if the battle is over.”
“Not the battle. Us. You.”
“Spite was my burden to master.”
In a hiccuping cough, the demon reared his head with startling lilac eyes and a snarling growl-
“Burden?!” Spite scoffed, though was immediately swallowed back down by Lucanis, who rolled his eyes,
“You heard me. We were a mess.”
Rook smiled fondly, still incredibly proud of how Lucanis and his demon had managed to find peace with one another.
“Again, not a bad thing. Sometimes… messy is good.” They smirked, reaching a hand up to brush back an unruly strand of Lucanis’s dark hair.
The Antivan turned into the touch, closing his eyes and letting his lips brush over Rook’s open palm.
“Please enlighten me some day.” He breathed out, seemingly fighting with himself once more.
He reached his fingers up to run along Rook’s wrist, feeling at his pulse point before drawing that up to his lips and kissing them there.
“I plan to.” Rook soothed, letting Lucanis explore whatever parts of them he felt comfortable enough to do so.
“Though perhaps when I don’t smell of nug shit. And… when you are ready. If you- if you did-“
Lucanis sighed, and gently placed Rook’s hand back down into their own lap.
“You must think me terribly pathetic...” He croaked out, running a weary hand over his face.
Rook shook their head swiftly.
“Why in Andraste’s name would I think that?“
“I’m a Crow. Sex appeal is supposed to be a part of the job.”
“You have plenty of sex appeal. An over-abundance I would say.”
Though rather than laugh, Lucanis instead doubled-down, his face screwing up tight,
“And yet it is foreign to me. I do not wish to share it with the world.”
“I don’t especially want you to either.”
“You know what I mean, Rook.”
Okay, Rook settled, deciding that now was obviously not the best time to make jokes, even if they were a whole lot easier to get out than words from the heart.
“I do.” Rook assured, planning to place a hand at Lucanis’s thigh, but hesitating in doing so,
“And I’m happy for you to not share it with me either, if that’s what you want.”
The inaction seemed to frustrate Lucanis further. He folded his arm about himself, curling inwards,
“But what about what you want? We can’t build a relationship on you just rolling over and accepting every complex and frustrating aspect of my life.”
A relationship. The notion brought with it a blossoming heat like a soothing balm against Rook’s chest. It felt right. Natural. A lot more so than the current pain Lucanis was clearly in-
“Hey, don’t I get to decide whether or not I find it frustrating?” Rook leant down to try and catch the Antivan’s eye.
They felt the Crow settle slightly against them. And a moment later Lucanis dared to look back up,
“You really don’t?” He frowned, “Wouldn’t it be easier if I was… easier?”
Rook kissed the top of Lucanis’s head, startling the man enough to sit upright.
“No. I like you just the way you are.” They nodded, entirely sure, “There’s more to relationships than sex, Lucanis.”
The Antivan gaped at them, seemingly caught between whether he was frustrated or flustered. He swallowed, giving in to his blush, which grew increasingly red around his ears and cheeks.
“It’s not that I don’t want to do those things with you, Rook. I really, really do.” He huffed out, shaking his head wildly,
“Ughhhh- if you knew half of the things I find myself thinking about- what you make me want to do…”
Rook was far too bewildered by the admission to entirely see Lucanis coming. In a swift instant his lips were back on theirs, far more sure and needy than the first time.
The Antivan breathed deep through his nose, cupping either side of Rook’s face and holding them against him. It was a surprising level of dominance that left Rook feeling winded, and only when the need for air became unbearable did Rook pull away, panting breathlessly against the edge of Lucanis’s mouth.
“It’s just- it’s like I’m in a race.” The Crow spoke, similarly laboured. His fingers curled up into Rook’s hair, tangling the pair of them together,
“I can see the end of the line, right in front of me, I’m so close. But no matter how fast I run, I’m still not there.”
Rook braced a hand at Lucanis’s chest, immediately feeling the heavy thump of the Crow’s heartbeat beneath his ribcage.
“Then stop thinking of this like something you have to complete.” Rook drew back far enough to look Lucanis properly, the both of their eyes wide and shining,
“This isn’t a contract. There is no ‘end goal’. There’s just us.”
Lucanis took a breath, a trembling smile tugging up on his lips.
“Us.” He agreed, beginning to pull Rook back in once more, until he stopped himself, making a noise as though he was choking, “I’m sorry… you really do smell awful.”
Rook let out a cackling laugh, accepting the insult easily. They stood up from the bed cot, taking a few steps backwards to save Lucanis’s nose from any further mistreatment.
“Fine then, I’ll go wash. But then you can tell me all about that book.” They compromised, “With the Duke and the Carriage Driver.”
“It’s embarrassing.” The Crow cringed, shaking his head.
“No it’s not. It’s your favourite.”
Lucanis took a moment, finding the right words. He let out a breath, but kept his gaze fixed on Rook, a lot more sure of himself now,
“It’s about trust. About learning to trust... And about letting oneself love.”
Rook smiled, feeling that same heat swell in their chest once more.
“It sounds nice.” A lot better than the other one, Rook need-not-add.
Lucanis similarly grinned, full of a ginger innocence that was at once wholly unfit for an assassin, and yet so utterly perfect for him.
“It is. It’s wonderful.” He agreed, relaxing back against his bed, a new, cool confidence about him that made it immediately more difficult for Rook to will themself to leave.
“I’m excited to learn more.” They breathed, as much the truth as it was a promise to learn, and to try, as fast or as slow as the both of them wanted to. A single page at the time, or the whole-damn story.
Because whatever they might grow to be, the real excitement was in figuring all of that out.