Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

A trip to the Crossroads was only meant to be a simple one. Deposit the Champion’s essences that Fiadh and her allies had picked up while fighting across Thedas into their gates and clear out any Darkspawn they came across. The dwarven woman had Lucanis and Taash with her on this particular outing to the Heights of Athim, the cold biting through her armor. She was often amused by the dragon hunter’s banter with the Crow assassin and enjoyed bringing them along just for that, their fighting qualities being second to that reason.

Questions were asked innocently that were curious from Taash’s point of view and from Lucanis pure asinine given his exasperation growing with each answer. It made the repeated trips less tedious and Fiadh found herself waiting with baited breath and stifled laughter at how Lucanis would answer the next outrageous question. After dispatching a group of Darkspawn, she moved about the area gathering her arrows and scouting any loot that may have fallen from the spawn.

“Hey, Lucanis. When we were at the market earlier this morning? The lady selling ribbons was into you.”

Fiadh stilled as she was pulling an arrow from the body of a recently massacred Darkspawn. She stood straight up, the arrow releasing with a loud squelch, and whipped her head around. Her fiery red curls whipped about in a frenzy as her gaze landed on Taash.

She glared at the tall Qunari, her normally calm blue green eyes now turning stormy with swirling emotion. It was becoming evident to everyone in their tiny guild that Fiadh had feelings for Lucanis and judging by the smile on Taash’s face, they were enticed to tease her on said crush.

Spite chose then to pipe up, his voice carrying that rasp and otherworldly feel that differed from his host, “Smelled…like strawberries…and blood.”

Fiadh bristled as she turned to wrench more of her prized arrows from the various bodies. She wouldn’t let Taash get under her skin that easily, but upon hearing Spite say what the merchant smelled like, the scent being sweet and metallic, she couldn’t help but silently brood.

It shouldn’t matter how she smelled to Spite, she was wanting to court Lucanis but given their unique situation, she would need to accept the two for one deal. Still, she wouldn’t mind knowing what her scent was from Spite. He had described the others before but she had never heard him refer to hers. Taash’s smile faltered momentarily as they snapped back at Spite.

“Hey. Spite. Eyes on me. That is a no. We do NOT talk about what other people smell like without their permission. Okay?”

Lucanis, or rather Spite, folded his arms over his chest, seemingly annoyed. He hissed back, “fine.”

Lucanis shook his head, banishing the demon back into the depths of his mind. His hands dropped to settle on his hips as his gaze strayed to Fiadh. Something was bothering her as she stomped around the bodies gathering her arrows and various gold/loot dropped. There was something about the dwarf that intrigued him when he should keep his head clear and on the current Contract.

She was tiny like any dwarf was, but where she lacked in height she made up for it in every other way. Her attitude and fighting style was fierce, pairing quite nicely with his. She met danger head on with her bow and knives and a scream that sounded like a bird of prey. Crows tended to lean more towards humans and elves for their tendency to be unsuspecting, but Fiadh would fit right in with his fellow assassins due to her ferocity.

As fierce as she was in battle, she was also fierce in the means of helping others. Her bloodthirst dissolving into concern almost seamlessly that had Lucanis wondering if she ever got whiplash from it.

He turned his attention back to Taash, not wanting to get caught staring, “you’re not scared of Spite?”

Taash looks over at the dwarf clearly throwing a silent fit and grins before they get serious and shrug. “I’m Rivaini. We’ve got all kinds of spirits. Spite is not the first stubborn spirit I’ve dealt with. Just have to be firm with them.”

Lucanis was curious though as to what made it seem that the seller was interested in him. He was simply looking for fabrics that caught his eye and would hold up against knives and blood. He didn’t pay attention at that moment to how they viewed him but if he could learn just what the signs were, that could be something he used in a future Contract.

“What makes you think the ribbon seller was interested in me?”

Fiadh had just about enough of the conversation and didn’t care to hear the answer. There was no hiding the irritation that spread across her face and made her freckles burn bright against her pale skin. Taash responded before she could say they were headed back to the Lighthouse.

“Caught her scent. Got real heady while you were perusing the fabrics and only increased when you spoke directly to her.”

Spite bristled, the purple glow enveloping Lucanis’ eyes as the demon took over once more. He threw his hands up in the air then angrily jabbed a finger at Taash. “NOT. FAIR. YOU JUST. SAID!”

The sound of an arrow suddenly sliced through the air and cut Spite off mid rant. It landed in the face of a long dead Darkspawn that was impaled on one of the dilapidated walls next Taash cut. They both turned to look at her, Lucanis and Spite in surprise and Taash merely grinning.

Taash’s grin only grew as Fiadh lowered her bow and then approached, stomping between them and going for the arrow she just launched. “Thought it moved. Couldn’t take the chance that it was still alive.” She pulled the arrow roughly and glared up at them before turning to Lucanis, her gaze softening only marginally.

“We’re going back to the Lighthouse. We’re done here.”

Taash chuckled as Fiadh stormed off towards the Eluvian back to the Lighthouse. “She is so fun to rile up. Too easy.” They leaned in to whisper, “She’s also into you. If the seller was interested, then Fiadh is enthralled. Might want to watch out for her. Ironic that she’s a Shadow Dragon. She’s going to end up circling you like an Abyssal High Dragon if you’re not careful.”

The glow in Lucanis’ eyes dissipated as his eyebrows rose in further surprise and he turned to see Fiadh waiting by the Eluvian. She stared back at him with a fierce stare that was only slightly tempered due to the blush that was spread across her cheeks. Spite purred inside his head, honing in on her scent that wafted in the winds towards them. “Dahlia and cloves. Hints of wildfire. that threaten to consume. Taash. speaks the truth. Still. Not Fair.”

Taash snorted and then strolled toward the Eluvian and soon it’s clear that Fiadh is having a heated conversation with them if her red curls whipping about as she expressed herself was anything to go by. Taash laughed as they pushed her through the Eluvian, leaving Lucanis alone for a moment.

Fiadh was…enthralled by him? That alone sounded dangerous. But then again, Fiadh didn’t shy away from danger. She openly embraced it, storming into every battle, almost giddy at being able to let loose. Her tenacity to mow down each and every enemy with precise destruction felt like whiplash when after everything settled, she immediately began checking on everyone and bringing hope to what was hopeless.

He didn’t know how to go from here if Taash was telling the truth.

Romance was something unfamiliar to assassins, even more so to him. There were Crows that established relationships, but even then they were more for appearances or climbing seats and Houses of power. What could he even offer her? His list of assassin skills were impressive, but as an abomination was something like a relationship even feasible?

He frowned as Taash stuck their head back thru the Eluvian and yelled for him to get his ass back in the Lighthouse. The less he thought about it, especially right now, the better. There were more important things at stake, and he stubbornly chose to hold onto that fraying line. He sighed as he walked through the Eluvian and Spite’s laugh echoed in his head at the deliciousness of his newfound frustration.

Chapter Text

The Lighthouse was a breath of fresh, desperately needed air from the stagnant stench that had resided in the Ossuary. This place was all unfamiliar, but a far cry from the hellish underwater prison Lucanis had spent the last year in. Upon crossing the Eluvian, he immediately made his way outside to the common room and then into the pantry. He just needed a few moments to collect himself. The pantry was small, only one entrance and for now, was quiet. It irritated him that he felt better in a space that mimicked that wretched cell he was kept in, but chose to look at it from an assassin’s point of view. Plus, he was closer to the life saving coffee.

He couldn’t afford to sleep. Not after just escaping the Ossuary to find his grandmother killed by the very people who had held him prisoner in the first place. Sleep especially was dangerous now with Spite who was waiting in the shadows of his mind for the next moment he could take over.

“They watch us. They'll see we’re not right.”

Lucanis ignored Spite, focusing on setting his gear and weapons to the side. Knives that needed cleaning and sharpening, armor that needed mending. A new routine created for the environment he now found himself in. The sound of footsteps approaching made him pause and tense up. The knock that came at the door was soft, but firm, the door carefully drawing open. Fiadh stood in the doorway, completely visible and empty handed.

Smart girl.

She leaned against the door frame instead of crossing the threshold, giving him his space. Again, smart girl. She stared quietly and Lucanis fought the urge to bristle. Plenty of his Venatori captors did the same thing day by day, waiting to see if the demon that was put into him finally emerged.

Lucanis straightened, rolling his shoulders as if that would carry the tension away. “If you’re here to assess the…risk, you could at least be a little less obvious about it.” He turned to her, “you have questions. Ask them.”

He wasn’t in the mood to talk, but he owed a debt to her and now a Contract from Catarina. He would ensure that both were completed.

Fiadh blinked, then laughed - a short, bright sound of surprise and amusement.

“Your reputation precedes you.”

She pushed off the frame and stepped inside, limping slightly but not attempting to hide it. Lucanis had not necessarily paid much attention to the one who broke him out of the Ossuary. There were other pressing matters then, but now in the low light of the pantry’s lamp, he got a good look at her. Lucanis couldn’t help but study the dwarven woman.

Like any dwarf, she was tiny, but that didn’t seem to diminish her presence in any sort of way. Her fiery red curls tumbled loose and wild, eyes that shifted from blue to green like waves in the sea, and freckles that peppered pale skin like constellations in the night. He didn’t miss the mess of scars that criss crossed what skin that showed. From the short period of knowing her, she looked different than in battle. Here she looked solid and real rather than a weapon in motion in battle.

“What do you want, then?”, he asked tiredly.

She glanced around the room, noting his little space he had started setting up. “You’ve been here almost half an hour. I figured you were either starving or spiraling. Given what you’ve gone through, I honestly thought it was both.”

Lucanis crossed his arms over his chest, “I don’t spiral.”

That earned a bark of laughter from Spite. “Noooo, you coil like a spring. Tightening. Who knows when you’ll snap.”

Fiadh’s gaze shifted briefly - not to Lucanis, but just past him. Like she was listening to something whispered in the stone. Lucanis stiffened. She made no comment.

Instead, she went to the shelves lined with food and jars, snatching an orange and began peeling it. “You settling in alright? I know all of this has been a lot. The Crossroads are a bit dicey, but the Lighthouse is safe. If a being called the Caretaker crosses your path, they’re harmless.”

Lucanis replied flatly, “as much as one can after just breaking out of a prison.”

Silence stretched, not tense, just a waiting pause.

“You haven’t asked about Spite.”

She tilted her head, curls falling across her face and obscuring her gaze to him. “I will. Eventually.”

Lucanis didn’t know what to do with that response. He was ready now for the barrage of questions regarding the demon possessing him, ready for the vitriol that came with being an abomination. He wasn’t ready for her next question.

Her gaze shifted one more, shaking the curls from her face and studying him. Not as a threat but like someone trying to put a puzzle together without all the pieces. She tosses the peels in a bucket by the door, the bright smell of citrus filling the room. “I’ve heard some call you the Demon of Vyrantium. How did you get the nickname? You know, before the whole unwanted possession by both sides.”

Lucanis hesitated, then bluntly said, “My talent is killing Venatori mages. I have done it enough that a nickname was apparently needed. I think Viago coined it.”

Spite chuckled, “the Crows needed a monster to spread chaos. They certainly have one now.”

Lucanis shook his head, trying to drive off the demon’s laughter.

If Fiadh noticed, she thankfully didn’t say anything. She nodded and offered her own nickname. “Varric gave me the name, ‘Rook’. Something about chess or being a rookie to him, I haven’t yet gotten a straight answer from him. Before that though, when I was a part of the Shadow Dragons, the Viper gave me the nickname, Phoenix.”

Lucanis couldn’t help the curiosity. Anything was better than listening to Spite’s laugh and banter at the moment. “Why Phoenix?”

Her smile was crooked and unapologetic, “besides the hair, which I’ve been told many times isn’t “proper” for a rogue?” She peeled another part of the orange and picked at the pith. “Because I kept getting back up when I should have died. Cut, stabbed, poisoned, hit. You name it. I’m sure as a Crow you’re no stranger to the litany of ways to try and kill someone.” She peeled back a section of the orange and popped a slice into her mouth, “before getting pulled into all this Solas/Veil mess, the name really got its meaning to stick.

A vague point went from her shoulder, down her front, continuing to her calf. “Took a risk while guarding a dignitary on a trip to Nessus to investigate a Venatori slavery ring. I snuck the dignitary back, along with a group of rescued slaves. But not without a parting gift from them. A mage caught up with us and in the ensuing fight, I took a flurry of fire to the side.” Another section of orange popped into her mouth.

“Should’ve laid there and burned, but I just wasn’t finished living yet. According to some of the slaves, I emerged from the ground still on fire, shrieking, and launching every arrow I had into everyone that had a Venatori mark on them. Got back to Minrathous, thank the Maker for healing salves. But in doing so, I brought the Venatori’s gaze onto the Shadow Dragons.”

Her smile faltered, “that more or less got me kicked from the faction. The Dragons needed to be able to continue their efforts with someone less…noticeable? Still, I would do it again if I had to. Less Venatori and slave rings makes for a better Thedas.

She stared at the orange for a moment, gathering her thoughts. “People like giving names to things that scare or inspire others. But they’re just names at the end of the day. It doesn’t mean that’s all we are.”

Lucanis’ chest tightened uncomfortably.

He studied her then - really studied. Unapologetically loud and head strong, caring to the point it hurt and in return, she was sharp as the arrows and swords she wielded in the few battles he’d witnessed. Entirely too open for someone who was supposed to be a rogue.

“You’re…not what I expected,” he said quietly. That got the smile back on her face. “Good. I tend to get that a lot.” She took the orange and tore the rest of it in half, tossing it to him. She turned to let him continue to settle in peace, but paused at the threshold. “I’m pretty sure you won’t be what I expected either. Can’t wait to find out. Good night, Lucanis, and I guess Spite, too.”

She left and for the first time since being in the Ossuary, Lucanis felt something loosen in his chest and Spite was quiet. It wasn’t trust. Not yet. He wasn’t even sure he was capable of it.

But perhaps, the possibility.