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“Daud,” Jessamine starts. “If we did anything that made you-- was there something we did wrong?”
Jessamine’s mouth is set in a tight line and Corvo paces up and down the royal bedchambers. Back and forth, back and forth, grating on Daud’s nerves. Mouth twisting into a scowl, eyes tracking the man, Daud just wants to demand Corvo sit down before he runs a damned hole in the floor.
The tension in the room has long since become brittle; Jessamine’s unrelenting gaze draws out one of Daud’s most well-kept secrets. He’s a man who’s learned to guard his cards close to his chest and play them sparingly. Today, it seemed they were forcing his hand.
“Who did it?” Corvo challenges. He’s stopped by the large window that opens to a lofty balcony, several floors up from the ground, a respectable climb for any unwanted guests that can’t call on the void. As Daud’s come to learn over his tenure as Royal Spymaster, Corvo is a warm and attentive soul. The man who turns to give him a steely look however, is not the one he’s grown to care for. This is the Royal Protector, sworn to protect the Empress with his life. A man that could so very easily run the isles to the ground with sheer will of force but curiously enough, choses benevolence even to the undeserving. “Did they hurt you?”
“Void you two are fussy," Daud scoffs, eyes set on the guards positioned outside. "I don’t have some traumatic past, nothing awful happened. I just don’t see why everyone turns into feral animals about it.”
He takes a moment to remember waking up that morning, when he spent entirely too long trying to pinpoint exactly where he was. In a bed, but not his own, a blanket pulled over his chilled skin and puffs of breath warming his shoulder. It had come back in a rush, his bleary early-morning confusion giving way to memories of the night before.
The morning left him feeling, simply put, like crawling out of his own skin. The night past was their first time exploring the more intimate aspects of a relationship and oh if it isn’t debasing to feel sullied and irritated and wrong for sleeping with the two people who bring him comfort -- and dare he say peace -- in his life. There was an unyielding sense of isolation and emptiness writhing in his chest. It had been barely light out; far too early to wake up feeling this alone in bed even with two people right beside him. They had spent the night being intimate, being together. So why did these emotions physically hurt? Daud had desperately tried to resist the urge to roll over and curl away from himself.
It infuriates and hurts just thinking about it.
There’s no way to tell them. It would trip them into guilt, make them feel like they’re the ones at fault when they’ve done nothing but be devoted to this relationship.
Corvo runs a hand through his unruly hair, and as if Daud was a wild animal ready to bolt, he says placatingly, “But we had sex. Last night, I mean. Why didn’t you tell us, I thought we had something-- I don’t know.”
Jess’s eyes only briefly turn to Corvo, a silent conclusion drawn between them.
It’s enough to notice the unmistakable feeling of dread building up in his gut. Growing like a weed, applying pressure to the cracks in the pavement and making itself known.
“We wouldn’t be here if there wasn’t something, Attano,” he practically snarls.
A screech of Jessamine’s chair being pushed back and Daud hrmphs as she stands up only to sit in the chair over from him. “Daud, look at me,” she commands smoothly. “If this makes you uncomfortable, if you need us to stop, whatever it is please tell us what’s wrong. We can work through this.”
“It’s nothing you need to worry about, it’s not for you to get involved. I’ll work it out on my own alright? Let's leave it at that.”
It’s a small price to pay for their attention, he doesn’t say.
Jess and Corvo share another look across the room that he doesn’t want to read into. Corvo comes to kneel in the space between his long-time lover-- the mother of his daughter for crying out loud -- and whatever Daud is.
He refuses to consider that this could be their tidy way to keep Knife of Dunwall on a leash. Pulling him in with soft looks and softer words out of convenience. No, he’s long past such thoughts and there are simpler means to that end. They’ve come to care for each other but recently it’s been feeling like one step forward, two steps back. Last night was just another dash in the wrong direction of many.
“I know this,” Corvo gestures between the three of them, “is new, but we’re here for you.”
Daud closes his eyes and considers all the possible ways of diverting the situation. He refuses to make it a conversation. The window is appealing, but with his powers, he doubts it would be nearly as effective as it is for a non-marked. Maybe he should distract them with the newest report Rulfio has on the Hatters--
Daud’s eyes snap open to see a hand placed reassuringly on his thigh. Jessamine says in an encouraging voice, “If you need to talk, or you want to set some boundaries--”
He chooses the window.
-
“I could’ve sworn he was interested in taking it further with us. It’s been leading up to this and we’ve already messed up.”
“I'm sure everything is fine, Corvo. He’s been settling into our triad for some time now and he seemed to enjoy himself last night. All we can do now is to sit down, be mature adults, and talk.”
“The looks he gives me, I just wish I could-- and he would die for you. There’s something there.”
“He’s content enough to cozy up after a long day and he doesn’t pull away when I touch him like he did when we first started including him. Daud told us there are things he has to work through and we need to respect that.”
-
The following day, Daud spends the monthly finance meeting pouring his full attention on the whale oil situation.
In recent years, Morley has been looking for a new combustible to replace whale oil. So far, they’ve only started building the groundworks. An aspiring inventor has managed to formulate a new type of oil: one that unfortunately burns up twice as fast but without many of the drawbacks that come with whale oil. It’s a change their ever dwindling whale population desperately needs. With increased financial backing, their finance minister assures the Empress of its inevitable success.
Meeting adjourned, Daud tries to focus on blending into the crowd in hopes of making a smooth and unnoticed exit. That is, until a discreet cough comes from behind.
Jessamine’s voice is carefully pitched when she murmurs, “Meet us in my room when you’re ready.”
Bodies file out and he lets out a long suffering sigh, casting a glance around the sunlit room for a head that stands out inches from even the tallest there. Daud is still feeling pointedly off about yesterday and turns away before Corvo notices him looking. Well, Jess did say when he’s ready. Whenever that is, it can wait.
-
When Thomas finds Daud a few hours later, pen jittering in hand, papers littering his desk and a few abandoned on the floor, Thomas comes to rest his hip on the desk. Although it can’t be comfortable-- the corner cuts into his thigh. He scans the page resting in front of Daud and makes a non-committal noise, “you know, whenever I write Wednesday there’s always a voice in my head that goes wed-nes-day.”
When their eyes meet, there’s a careful look in Thomas' eyes as he asks if Daud would like to help patrol South of the tower, where a recent skirmish had taken place suspiciously close to the gates. It had been a right hassle and with who knows what the perpetrators’ goal had been, it fell upon the Royal Spymaster to clean up and sniff out the remaining offenders.
Suspicious, Daud furrows his brows and side-eyes the man but Thomas remains quiet and makes no move to leave. Right. Well. He supposes the paperwork would still be there later. A quick glance at his desk and he transverses to the nearest rooftop, not waiting for Thomas to follow.
Daud may not have a kid of his own but the Whalers come pretty close. A group of ragtag mercenaries, street rats and refugees couldn’t be coined as a conventional family by any standards, yet a lot of them made it work despite their differences. Thomas being one amongst them.
Fortunately, his trusted second in command shows no indication of being sent by Corvo or Jessamine tonight.
“Not to intrude, sir, but what happened?” Or maybe not. “You barely talked to Her Majesty and the Royal Protector this morning”
Daud stops crouched on the edge of a roof, steeling his expression and peers over the edge into the alley below for eavesdroppers. Of course Thomas would’ve picked up on that. The man has been a dependable whaler for years now, would his - Daud hesitates to even think of them as such so casually but - partners think that enough to involve Thomas in their affairs? Surely Jessamine and Corvo wouldn’t, not about what happened that morning, right? He barely gives the idea a thought; Thomas must’ve just thought him unusually withdrawn during the meeting. The lieutenant’s strength always has lain in intel gathering, a smart and observant man. Daud trusts Corvo and Jess, they would never leave him vulnerable to anyone like that without talking to him.
But he also trusts Thomas with his life and has with many secrets.
Daud raises an eyebrow to his lieutenant who only shrugs and comes to sit next to him, legs dangling from the roof, postured slumped after the long day. Thomas reaches into his chest pocket and lights a cigarette, taking a drag of its grey fumes. So much for patrol it seems; he can feel other whalers dotting the area, two stationed by the gate that will come to him or Corvo should something happen. No harm in sitting and taking in the shining lights of Dunwall at night then. He leans back on the hard shingles, head pillowed in his arms, time marked only by the stars overhead.
Thoughts inevitably turning to yesterday morning, his stomach twists. For a scarce few moments, he thinks to unbury this casket, lay his guilt open and bare for Thomas, for better or for worse. He’s one of Daud’s most trusted people and probably already has an idea of his turmoil considering their time together.
Besides the occasional contract during Fugue-- most preferring to try their hand at whatever murder or petty thievery they can outside any official records or accountability-- the bulk of the whalers would head out for the festivities. Although a fair bit younger than Daud, Thomas has a wise soul beyond his years. The lines around his eyes tell of a life full of laughter but his forehead has been creased from the weight of a life constantly pressing on his shoulders.
When asked, both would say Fugue offered them nothing, and so they were always two of the few whalers that stayed at the base. Thomas would nurse a pint in Daud’s rooms and make small talk through the night, occupying a chair he dragged up from the dining area.
He lets out a sigh that earns a glance from Thomas. Ruminating over the past does nothing. He has to conquer his aversion or come clean to someone. This middle ground is no good for anyone.
“Do you know why Billie left the Whalers, Thomas?”
Thomas opens his mouth to answer but Daud decides on a different question. “Do you know who she left for?”
“She joined Delilah, sir.”
“Right, she chose to be with Delilah. What do you think about that?”
Thomas gives him an incredulous look and answers, “She left the Whalers. I don't know what she saw in that witch but if that’s what Billie wanted, then I’m glad she’s happy.”
“Not like--,” Daud releases a slow breath he didn’t know he was holding, choosing his words carefully. “As in Billie being romantically involved with another woman. Not settling down with a husband and kids as a normal person should.”
Thomas thankfully says nothing to his uncertain tone. “I see her no differently, sir. She’s the same Billie to me. I didn’t take her as the type to pop out babies anyhow.”
No differently my ass. Were Billie a noble living an unfortunate life, Billie would be disgraced at best for daring to ruin those bastards’ normalcy, not that he gives a rat’s ass about what those pretentious pricks think. At worst, Billie would be another nameless corpse littering the streets of Dunwall just for being unnatural. Fuck. Jessamine and Corvo are practically entitled to sex with him. Daud’s a man and Jessamine’s a woman. Hell, even though Corvo’s a man too, nobody has to know, but there are expectations, standards to meet. If he can’t deliver, why put the effort into taking things further. Sex is important to them as the quiet comfort of domesticity. A few precious hours allotted to be normal humans in bed without the burdens of their titles.
Sometimes, not often, but during those quiet nights where his thoughts run too loud, Daud thinks of a world where Corvo Attano and Jessamine Kaldwin didn’t have entire swaths of people depending on them. A simpler life where they could be free to love as lovers should, a world in which they could raise Emily with all their hearts. Perhaps on a quiet shore of Serkonos. And Daud-- well, there really is no place for him there.
Why is this even a problem? It’s sex for void’s sake, it’s supposed to come naturally. This is too complicated. Awfully, endlessly, infuriatingly aggravating.
A voice cuts through his thoughts: “Just because you can handle pain doesn’t mean you deserve it. What’s the point in beating yourself up?”
“That’s not the point.”
“I think that’s exactly the point.”
He doesn’t snarl but it’s a near thing. He’s already tired of this conversation.
Daud's mouth tightens into a harsh line and he moves to leave before he grunts, “There's too much paperwork left from that damned gate incident. Send Misha to my office when you see her.”
He gets a knowing look from Thomas in return.
-
As dusk breaks, the fire crackling low, Daud rests his head on his hand in a poor imitation of much needed sleep; a knock sounds at the door.
He makes no move to get up, instead pulling void-gaze over his eyes. Two figures wait behind the door and he desperately wants to ignore their presence. What he needs is sleep, a solid six hours would be nice.
He calls for them to come in only to see two very dressed down people. Daud catches himself staring when the corner of Corvo’s lips tug into a smirk.
Daud couldn’t say he’s ever truly loved someone because what it is to be in love, he couldn't say. Indulgent penny novels can only be reliably trusted as kindle and a book’s romance is always played out to be life changing; people squandering their lives away waiting for the other half to their whole.
No, ever since he became what essentially amounts to a gang leader and later, that of an unrivaled organization of assassins, relationships have barely ever been on his radar. Too messy, too complicated, and in any case, he was far too busy leading the Whalers.
Granted, Daud’s become very fond of this particular pair and even just thinking about the times spent polishing off a few glasses of alcohol with easy conversation in the blues and purples of the evening makes his stomach swoop and warm, makes him feel content. It’s the way their gazes linger, how their voices grow soft, their body language so open and safe.
They lifted him out of the ever present cold that engulfs Dunwall. They’re a glow that shined so warmly he couldn’t help but follow it home; their presence spreading to each dark corner of his mind. Damn these two.
“Well? I have shit to do. Clearly your invitation was pointless if you planned on barging in either way.”
He knows they won’t press. He really doesn’t want to be here. If he kicks them out they’ll stay gone until they've deemed it too long without pestering him. Staying silent wouldn’t change anything really, which might actually be the problem itself. He also needs to tell them what he wouldn’t the day before. They deserve to know. Damn it. Here he's come to make a terrible, terrible decision. One that he knows he's not going to take back. One he would berate any whaler for making such a decision on impulse. Maybe those books are onto something with their grand love confessions.
“You want me,” he says stiffly. He can feel their eyes on him like a physical presence , pressing down from all sides.
“We do,” Corvo says.
The be-all and end-all. During his tenure as Spymaster, they truly have developed something between the three of them and now it all might come crumbling down because he can’t fulfill their needs. This is it, he’s stepping over the point of no return: “I won’t have sex with you. Been there, done that, and hated myself after.”
“Okay,” Corvo says, easy as that.
Daud pauses and narrows his eyes. He goes to open his mouth but stops to frown at them.
“I won’t ever have sex with you, I can’t give you what you need,” he says, taking on a challenging tone. “I regret last night. I thought it would be different because it’s you two, but I woke up and hated myself. I felt sick because I was intimate with the people I care for and all you have to say is OK?”
Jessamine only barely hesitates, mulling over her thoughts before walking over. She gently draws his gaze to hers and he forces his stiff shoulders down, “We don’t only want to fuck you, Daud. We would never turn you down if you were interested but we want you for who you are. If that means you never sleep with us in any way but the literal sense, I think I speak for Corvo and myself when I say I’m fine with that.” Ha. If only the nobles could’ve borne witness to their Empress cursing. Their reactions alone would make his week.
Corvo and Jessamine are a new type of comfort that’s manifested itself in many ways. They kiss where no one can see. Touch knees under tables during council meetings. Spend stolen nights tucked in each other’s arms. Jessamine’s always had a knack for stroking his passions and calming his storms. All of these things are new, but perfect in every way.
He leans to push a strand of hair behind Jessamine’s ear, a light touch brushing her face which earns a soft chuckle before she presses him away. He drops his eyes before his expression betrays him because he just knows her eyes will hold that royal intensity so suited to an Empress.
Corvo goes to lean against the nearby dresser and adds, “Don’t think any of this makes you a lesser part of us, relationships aren’t some-- sum to be added or subtracted. Emily could tell you that. Unconventional or not, Jess and I have loved each other for years.” He gives Daud a reassuring tilt of his head and Jessamine a grin that speaks volumes of their understanding for each other. “We’ll take this one step at a time so it would help if you help us understand whatever this is so we can work through it.”
Daud really has stumbled into loving these idiots, he thinks fondly, and he’s choosing to hold onto that feeling every step of the way.
“Being close with another--” he takes a moment to gather his thoughts and moves to stand up, walking over to the dresser Corvo's against, and pours himself a glass of whiskey from the well stocked alcohol collection resting on its surface. There’s too much to unpack here to do it sober. He raises the bottle to Corvo in a wordless question then glances over his shoulder to Jessamine. At both shakes of their heads, he continues as forthright as he can, “I like you. I want you... I whatever you. With you two here, the rest of the world can go fuck itself, but physical intimacy takes me a while to work up to and I have to be… comfortable. Do you remember last Fugue Jess, you practically sat on me.”
“You knocked your glass over Lord Pruitt’s papers, how could I forget?” Jessamine lets out a snicker. “And how very unfortunate that was for his appeals. We never could get them through. If I recall correctly, your face turned a lovely-- ”
“Quite,” sobering, he strains to maintain a cavalier voice and looks to the fire; anything to keep his thoughts at bay. Corvo makes an enquiring noise that Daud pointedly ignores. “I don’t like sex. I never feel the need to have sex and the thought of it is worse than crawling through rat infested sewers. I don’t crave nor want carnal acts. I thought the two of you would be different, but...”
Daud feels horrible rejecting them, hates the way his own body rejects to feel what they feel. What everyone should feel. He’s given them the loyalty of a man who’s never been loyal but he just can’t bring himself to enjoy sex in the same way Corvo and Jessamine do. It’s not even a choice really. But if there ever was a choice he could make, he chooses any way to be with them with all his being.
They must see something in his face; a smile tucks at the corner of Jessamine's lips, and Corvo steps close to run a ground hand down his back, letting it come to rest on the curve of his spine. “You’re patient with Emily and read her stories. You make me laugh and indulge me in running over rooftops when it’s ass all cold outside. You are everything I could ever hope to bring into my life.” Corvo gives a fond smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling while Jessamine makes a noise, making it clear she mirrors the sentiment. Warmth spreads through his body and an odd hum settles in his mind.
“Do you want us?”
The world doesn’t turn on absolutes. Loyalties are broken, trusts betrayed; but maybe, just maybe, he can learn to lean on them.
“Yes. Void, yes.”