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Certain sounds brought with them certain memories; associations – good or bad – that once attached never left. This was something Rook had always experienced, even if he could only put a name to the feeling rather than the specific memory. But some memories were stronger than others, forever tied together with momentous events.
The rustle of wind blowing through the trees in Seheron; the bubble of nervous energy and fear that had haunted his dreams the night before facing the Antaam for the first time.
The whuffling snuffle of Pup settling onto the floor at Ashur’s side, seemingly relaxed but always on alert; those tireless early days of the Shadow Dragons finding and recruiting those who believed in the same cause, and then going out and establishing that cause, making themselves heard to those who desperately needed their help.
The almost constant roll and rumble of thunder of the storms that blew in off the Nocen Sea, growing louder until eventually shaking the walls of his flat; soft, hazy mornings, even softer kisses and touches leading to delayed departures. Just one more snuggle, one last kiss, and the security found in warmth and love and the absolute certainty that this place was safe and theirs alone...
Tonight was no different. The warmth and comfort of a shared home, one filled with love and affection and the knowledge that each was loved and wanted. And somewhere in a distant room, the first steps in their direction. Quiet but confident, gradually gaining in volume until pausing for the long, slow, groaning creak of the heavy oak door opening into the room.
Rook was too focused on the game board in front of him spare a glance at the new arrival. Or he thought he was until other sounds added to it, cementing it into his memory forever.
The scrape of the tray as it was set on the small table. The barest rattle and clatter of porcelain cups against saucers. A familiar sigh grunting not in surprise but in bemusement to find Rook sitting at the chessboard with Ashur. Again.
Rook’s lips twitched as he pulled his gaze from the board. Glancing up at the man seated opposite him, he observed while reaching across the board to move his chess piece, “It would seem we have an audience.”
Ashur’s face eased into a slow, steady sort of knowing smile, the one he always had at the ready. He now settled it upon Rook and brought his attention back to the game to survey his options. “This isn’t the first time,” he countered. A moment later, he reached over and moved his own piece effectively blocking Rook’s move.
He was right; this wasn’t the first time. Back in the days when the desire to best each other at a game of strategy in an effort to chase away the frustrations of the day or simply blow off steam, they’d often taken up the chess pieces at The Wyvern’s Tooth. In such a public space, there were always curious eyes intent upon watching them, possibly even learning from their years of expertise. By the end of a match, it wasn’t unusual to have several people around them asking questions or for advice.
“I must be losing my touch if you heard me,” Lucanis muttered. He adjusted the tray containing coffee, cups, and whatever sweet treat he’d made for their evening snack so that it would not fall then walked over to join them.
Now Rook’s move in the game, Ashur was able to give the Antivan his full attention. “More likely,” he said while tipping his chin in Rook’s direction, a bemused smile on his lips, “it’s that his hearing is as keen as ever.”
Rook sighed softly and did his best to ignore them. It wasn’t exactly embarrassing and Ashur certainly had no ill intent with his words, but Rook was never comfortable with comments – even good ones – regarding his abilities. Besides, more than once, his ‘keen hearing’ had kept them all safe, whether Shadow Dragons or the Veilguard, and that was all that mattered.
Reaching across the board, he nudged his Divine towards the middle of the board. “Never heard you complain about it before,” he half-grumbled, attempting to shed the embarrassment. The smile on his face as he sat back and returned his gaze to Ashur went a long way towards that end as well.
Lucanis, now moved to stand behind Ashur but close enough to see the board, grinned across the table at Rook while Ashur replied, “No, I don’t suppose you would have.”
It wasn’t the words, but the glint Ashur’s hazel eyes that pulled Rook to the past; to a shared bedroom and soft touches and sighs to match.
The memory was broken when Ashur asked, “Do you play, Lucanis?” He turned to look over his shoulder at the Antivan.
“No,” Lucanis replied with a slow shake of his head. “I did not have the patience for it growing up.” White teeth flashed briefly in a quick smile and soft laugh. “A difficult thing for an assassin to admit, I know.”
Ashur and Rook both chuckled lightly. While Ashur returned to the board to evaluate his next move, Rook leaned back in his chair and grinned up at the Crow, a possible explanation popping into his mind. “Let me guess; Illario used to beat you.”
Lucanis shrugged. “Perhaps I allowed it,” he countered. His shrug was as casual as they came right before he walked back over to the tray he had brought and began pouring coffee for each of them. “Still, Caterina thought it a useless game for training purposes. Crows do not rely on ‘teams’ in their contracts, after all.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Rook noted Ashur move his Magister to block Rook’s Divine. Not unexpected – Ashur was as good at the game as Rook after so many years playing one another – but it was a move that had come far earlier than Rook had anticipated. Ashur relinquished his turn. For just a moment, Rook thought he caught a glint of mischief in the other man’s hazel gaze. Returning his attention to the board, he observed, “That’s not how I heard you describe some of your contracts. Didn’t Illario go with you?”
Warmth filled Lucanis’ laughter as he brought over two steaming cups and set them within easy reach of Rook and Ashur. “Someone had to keep him out of trouble.”
A slow smile spread across Rook’s face as he used his Centurion to take out Ashur’s Magister. He sat back just in time for Lucanis’ return and the plate that was handed to him. “Was that your choice or Caterina’s?” he asked.
Ashur was still contemplating his next move when Lucanis returned with a cup and plate for himself. Taking the third chair near them, he said, “You already know the answer to that.”
Ashur paused, lifting his head from the board to look across at Rook. “I find it difficult to believe you haven’t played any since leaving Minrathous. Not given the number of times you’ve defeated me in recent weeks.”
Before Rook could respond, Lucanis replied for him. “Oh, he and Emmrich played of an evening. Neve spent most of the time explaining the game to Taash and Bellara while Harding and Davrin would discuss real-life strategies for both Rook and Emmrich to use.”
A soft smirk quirked at Ashur’s lips. “And you?”
Sitting back in his chair, Lucanis lifted his cup, inhaled deeply, then released a long and appreciative sigh. “I was responsible for refreshments, of course.”
Taking a careful sip of the coffee, Ashur nodded. “Of course.” Leaning over, he moved his Archon across the board into the point opposite.
Rook took a bite of the cake on his plate and released a long, satisfied sigh as the familiar flavors rolled over his tongue. It had been a while, but he’d had this particular treat before. “I remember this one,” he said as he set his plate aside and returned his attention to the board. “Emmrich’s Hazelnut Torte.”
Lucanis nodded. “Yes. It pairs well with coffee.” Then, more for Ashur’s benefit than Rook’s, he added, “Even what you call ‘coffee’ here in Minrathous.”
Ashur’s brow rose tilting in Rook’s direction with a mix of amusement and curiosity. Rook had no intention of being lured into a discussion regarding the drink – he’d had enough of that back at the Lighthouse during their hunt for the Evanuris – and instead kept his attention fully focused ahead of him.
But Ashur, it seemed, had some thoughts of his own. “You allowed Neve to make coffee?”
Half question, half statement, Rook shrugged. “As if I had a choice?” He reached across the board but paused as he looked up and asked, “How did you know?”
“Yes,” Lucanis chimed in. “How did you know? And why were we not warned ahead of time?”
Rook nearly choked on a laugh. Lucanis, apparently, was still affronted by the private investigator’s idea of what ‘coffee’ was and how it was made.
A smug smile slipped across Ashur’s face as he sat back in his chair and took a sip of his hot drink. “It was not through first-hand experience; you can rest assured of that.”
Sniffing softly – almost a dual toned sound. Could Spite be adding his opinion as well? – Lucanis replied, “Consider yourself fortunate. I would not wish her idea of coffee upon even the worst of my enemies.”
Rook caught hold of his Divine and paused, grinning over at the Antivan Crow. “Not even a contract?”
The corner of Lucanis’ lips twitched beneath his mustache and beard. “Not even them,” he agreed, “and you know well who some of them have been.”
“Better be careful,” Rook teased in return while winking over at Ashur, “or someone might think the Demon of Vyrantium is soft-hearted.”
Ashur laughed, a reaction that clearly caught him off guard, and he quickly moved to set his drink aside but not before some of it dripped over the sides of his cup and onto his clothing. Lucanis reacted quickly, jumping to his feet to retrieve a cloth from the tray that he used to help wipe up the mess.
It was then that Rook took chose to move his Divine to the same point as Ashur’s Archon.
“You are a menace, amatus,” Ashur muttered over to Rook, but the affection in his tone clearly outweighed any heat in the words.
Sitting back, Rook reached for his coffee and kept his grin in place. “And yet you love me anyway.”
Not surprisingly, Lucanis murmured, “Easy enough to do,” then collected the cloth and coffee cup before retreating over to the coffee tray. As he did so, he paused briefly to lean in and brush a quick kiss to Rook’s temple.
It was comforting and Rook leaned into the touch just enough while gesturing towards the board for Ashur to move. A minute later, Lucanis returned and reclaimed his seat.
Not arguing the point, Ashur said, “He isn’t wrong.” His eyes surveyed the board for a moment before he reached over and moved one of his Centurions closer to one of Rook’s Magisters.
Rook was slightly taken aback by the words. Often, he found it difficult to keep heat from rising to his cheeks in moments like this. It wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate the sentiment, but more that he saw himself as a protector to those he cared about, whether they returned the affection or not. As such, he expected nothing in return. However, now that he had found not one, but two people who openly declared their love for him, it usually was enough to send him into a shade of purple bright enough to rival Spite’s presence.
Except in this moment.
He had expected the words this time. Though, it offered a distraction that could be taken advantage of, and he ducked his head as if embarrassed or flustered. Reaching across the board, he snagged his Rook piece, and moved it over near his Divine, effectively trapping Ashur’s Archon in the board’s point in a reverse Divine Intervention. “I think that’s game,” he murmured.
Startled, Ashur looked down at the board, noted the placement of Rook’s pieces, and while rolling his eyes, stood up. But there was no mistaking the appreciative smile that slid across his face. “I’d forgotten you reverse that move at times,” he admitted. Stepping aside from his chair, he invited Lucanis to take it. “No better time to start relearning how to play than right now, amatus."
Already in the middle of resetting the board, Rook paused, his gaze drifting over to Lucanis. It was still odd to hear Ashur use the endearment with Lucanis, but it was not unwelcome. A slow, easy grin spread across Rook’s face as the Antivan smiled then switched chairs. Rook also did not miss the mischievous twinkle in the Antivan's eyes as Lucanis responded, “I think I would like that.”
There was a slight rise in Lucanis’ tone as he accepted the challenge, and an odd reverberation to the words. It took a moment to recognize the source as the slightest bubble of excitement, not from Lucanis himself but from Spite. Breath catching in the back of his throat, Rook ignored the questioning looks from Ashur and Lucanis, and simply laughed as he shook his head. He should have guessed Spite would want to play. Sighing softly and fondly, he gestured for Lucanis to take the first move while murmuring, “Maker, help me...”