The Dellamorte villa was alive with warmth and laughter. The golden light of the kitchen illuminated the flour-dusted counter, where Rook stirred a bowl of batter with a bit more enthusiasm than technique. Her hair was tied loosely back, strands already falling free to frame her flushed cheeks.
Lucanis Dellamorte leaned against the counter beside her, his dark eyes brimming with quiet amusement. He was dressed in casual crow attire, nonetheless a bit intimidating to outsiders, though the frosting smudged across his sleeves made him look just a little less intimidating than usual.
“You know,” he drawled, his voice smooth and laced with mischief, “if you whisk any harder, the bowl might retaliate.”
Rook shot him a look, one brow arched. “I’m trying to make this perfect. You’re the one who insisted on cake instead of pie, so…” She trailed off, gesturing to the mess of ingredients around them.
Lucanis smirked. “Don’t blame me for your ambitious standards, tesoro. You’re the one who said you wanted to impress me.”
“Impress you?” Rook laughed, pausing to flick a pinch of flour at him. “Amorino, I think you’re already impressed enough.”
He tilted his head, watching her intently as though agreeing with that sentiment entirely. Then, without warning, he reached into the nearby frosting bowl, scooping a bit onto his finger and dabbing it across her nose.
“Lucanis!” she yelped, dropping the whisk and swiping at her face.
He was already laughing, the low sound resonating deep in his chest as he stepped back. “You’re much cuter when you’re messy, you know.”
“Oh, you’re asking for it now.”
Rook grabbed a handful of flour and flung it at him, hitting his dark shirt square in the chest. Lucanis stopped short, glancing down at the pale smudge on his otherwise pristine attire.
“You’re going to regret that,” he said, his voice low and teasing.
But Rook wasn’t waiting for his retaliation. She darted around the counter, laughing as Lucanis chased after her with a determined gleam in his eye. They ended up tangled in a playful scuffle, smearing frosting and flour on each other’s faces and hands as they stole kisses in between bursts of laughter.
The cake batter was forgotten for a while, though neither seemed to mind.
It wasn’t until much later, after the cake was baked and half-decorated, and Rook was perched on the countertop with Lucanis standing between her legs, their foreheads pressed together, that she glanced at the clock on the wall.
Her heart sank. “Andraste’s ashes,” she muttered, pulling back.
Lucanis frowned, his brows knitting together. “What is it?”
“It’s one in the morning,” Rook said, sliding off the counter in a panic. “I was supposed to be home by eleven. Viago’s going to kill me.”
Lucanis caught her hand before she could rush away, his expression softening. “Stay,” he murmured, brushing his thumb over her knuckles. “I can smooth talk Viago tomorrow, save you some trouble.”
She sighed, torn between the warmth of his touch and the dread of her brother’s wrath. Finally, she leaned in, pressing a lingering kiss to his lips.
“You’re impossible,” she whispered against his mouth before pulling away.
“And yet, you keep coming back,” Lucanis said with a smirk, watching her gather her things.
Rook rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the smile that crept across her face. “I’ll see you soon. Try not to miss me too much.”
Lucanis chuckled, “try not to get scolded too much,” his gaze following her as she slipped out into the night.
The De Riva villa was quiet as Rook climbed through the open window of her room, carefully lowering herself onto the floor. She thought she’d gotten away with it, until the light flicked on.
Rook froze, turning slowly to find Viago sitting in a chair by the door, his arms crossed and his dark eyes narrowed. He was still dressed, his usual sharp crow attire despite the late hour, though his expression betrayed his annoyance.
“You want to tell me where you’ve been all night?” he asked, his tone deceptively calm.
Rook scrambled for an excuse. “I was out with Teia,” she said quickly.
Another chair turned, and Teia spun into view with an equally unimpressed look. Her brown hair was loosely braided, and though her expression was softer than Viago’s, it was no less effective.
“Wanna try again?” Teia asked, arching a brow.
Rook winced. “I… was baking. At a friend’s place.”
“Baking,” Viago repeated, his tone flat. “Until one in the morning?”
“It’s… a very complicated recipe?” she offered weakly.
Teia exchanged a look with Viago, her lips twitching as though she were trying to suppress a laugh. Viago, however, didn’t seem amused.
“You know I don’t like it when you’re out this late,” he said, his voice softening slightly but still firm. “Anything could happen.”
Rook sighed, guilt creeping in. “I’m sorry, Vi. I lost track of time, that’s all. Nothing happened. I was perfectly safe at the Dellamorte villa.”
Viago’s brows furrowed, but his expression softened slightly. “Lucanis, huh?” He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. “Look, I’m not going to lecture you about seeing him. He’s… decent, as far as men like him go. Better than I expected, even. But, Rook—” His tone sharpened, the protective older brother coming through. “One in the morning? At his villa? What were you thinking?”
Teia gave him a small nudge, her tone gentler. “Vi, let her explain. She’s fine. Don’t make a scene.”
“I’m not making a scene,” Viago shot back, though his raised voice said otherwise.
Rook held up her hands, trying to de-escalate. “We were baking. Baking, Vi. I wasn’t sneaking off to plot assassinations or rile up the Antaam!”
“That’s not the point,” Viago said, standing now, his dark eyes locking onto hers. “The point is you said you’d be home by eleven. If you’re going to see Lucanis, or anyone for that matter, you don’t just vanish into the night like some teenager with no sense of responsibility.”
“Vanish?” Rook repeated, indignant. “I didn’t vanish, Viago. I was with someone you know and trust.”
“I trust him to keep his blades sharp and his secrets buried,” Viago said. “That doesn’t mean I trust him not to make a bad decision with my little sister.”
Teia sighed, cutting in before the argument could spiral further. “She’s not a child, Vi. She’s more than capable of holding her own. And it’s not like she’s going to take any nonsense from Lucanis or anyone else.” She turned to Rook with a wry smile. “But maybe let your brother know next time if you’re running late? He gets… dramatic when he’s worried.”
Rook couldn’t help but grin at Teia’s dry humor, though she turned back to Viago with a more serious expression. “I’m sorry, Vi. I didn’t mean to worry you. I just lost track of time, that’s all. It won’t happen again.”
Viago exhaled, the tension in his shoulders easing a fraction. “Good. Because if you keep sneaking back at this hour, I might start sending messages to Lucanis about curfews.”
Rook’s eyes widened. “You wouldn’t dare.”
His lips quirked into a sly smirk. “Try me.”
Teia snorted a laugh, nudging Viago toward the door. “Alright, that’s enough. She’s apologized. Let her sleep, papacorvo.”
Viago huffed but relented, though not without a final glance at Rook. “Just… take care of yourself, okay? And next time, send a message through a crow.”
As the door closed behind them, Rook sank onto her bed, letting out a breath of relief. Her brother could be a pain, but at least he wasn’t trying to put Lucanis on some sort of watchlist.
But the lecture was worth it, she thought with a smile, the memory of Lucanis’s flour-dusted grin still fresh in her mind.
———————————————————————————
I wanted to write something with a little bit of comic relief, sprinkled with a touch of protective older brother Viago (My headcanon for crow! Rook).
Lucanis and Spite's reaction to Rook being trapped in the Regret prison, or, if someone already asked that, romanced Lucanis having to tell Viago (massive older brother vibes) that Crow!Rook is stuck in the Regret prison
Standing in the entrance of Rook’s room, Lucanis closes his eyes.
For a moment, he swears he feels her right there— sitting on the couch, curled over her notebook making a sketch of something she couldn’t get out of her head.
The room still smells of cinnamon spice from the incense she always had burning on the far dresser. Her clothes would be everywhere, along with loose notes and bits of potion ingredients scattered about.The fade window of swimming fish would remind him of the Ossuary like it always did— sending a sour storm of adrenaline straight to his chest. Only by Rook’s sweet face murmuring soft reassurances would he return to the present, back in her presence.
The moment passes and he knows what he will see when he opens his eyes. Nothing is as it should be.
Rook is gone. Gone. Betrayed by Solas.
Spite bristles along his spine at the thought. Lucanis clenches a fist as he battles the demon’s anger as well as his own. For once, they were both equally powerless to rescue her.
We find her. We find Rook.
Spite was angry more than anything else, bleeding into Lucanis’ every thought. He wanted revenge, action… something to stab and kill and as far as the demon was concerned the team was doing nothing at all.
But they had no choice, so all they could do was bide their time, recoup their resources and figure out a plan to find Rook.
—
In the fleeting moments he’s able to close his eyes and sleep, he still sees the flash of light in his dreams. A bright flash, Rook’s horrified voice shouting his name, and then nothing. It was unnerving, seeing it over and over again. Spite seemed almost as incapacitated by the dreams as Lucanis was.
Emmrich once said spirits could experience intense mood shifts during stress, perhaps that was the reason why he kept bringing Lucanis’ sleeping body to Rook’s room. To feel better.
She always made things better.
Ever since she disappeared, everything around them had dampened. Colors, taste… all of it was muffled without her around. Was she even alive? How could they know? They killed one god, and faced two more. Who could say she hadn’t been vaporized by Solas?
No. I feel her.
“You feel her because this is her room, Spite. You don’t know that she lives.”
You give up?
“Never. Not until I see her body.”
There’s a feeling of approval. Never again lose what’s ours.
He should leave her room, if he plans to get anything done today. He needs to travel to Treviso still, update Teia and Viago about Rook. He’d already waited a week too long. He knows the conversation might end up with Viago trying to kill him, but they needed to know. They were her only other family, after all. As he turns to go, he spots a loose piece of paper peeking out from under the couch. Spite urges him to pick it up, stronger than ever.
It’s a sketch of himself, outlined in purple. Underneath, the words vhenan as well as the following:
“Say it, before it’s too late.”
He thinks to the night before she disappeared, how she’d come for their usual evening drink but was preoccupied. Nervous. Surely she was just anxious about the next day’s events, but instead….
She loves him.
He told her not to make a promise she couldn’t keep, yet here he was having broken the last half of his. He didn’t keep her safe that day.
Should she not return, every blighted creature would feel his blade.
