twoforsurprise | One Short Day In Antiva City

One Short Day In Antiva City

Davrin might have forgotten Lucanis' offer about the tailor, but he had not. Not all of their excursions were for fighting demons or cultists or darkspawn, and eventually Rook was going treasure hunting on the Rivani coast with Taash and Harding. And just them. Quite adamant that only Taash and Harding were needed, in fact.

Andraste preserve them, Rook was apparently becoming interested in matchmaking.

It worked out, though. The timing. Lucanis ever so casually mentions that Davrin promised to assist him in some errands in Antiva and Rook is just so happy they're not at each other's throats that they're told to not take however long they need. Lucanis makes a mental note to pick up something nice for Rook when they're in Antiva City.

Ah, Antiva City. A less beautiful Treviso, Lucanis used to say. That was before the Ossuary, before the occupation, before the blight. Now it's hard to not see everything that's been lost. He doesn't insult Davrin by assuming the man can't keep up with the Crow routes along the rooftops and across ziplines, so much faster than the weaving crowded streets up the hill the city is built on overlooking the harbor the few times they need to duck down to street level.

"Should be right around - ah, there it is," Lucanis declares once they're half way up the hill, the financial district of the city settled between the Palace at the top and the harbor and all the wealth the shipping industry brings. This time when he drops down to the street level it is where they'll stay for the time being, heading to an understated store front with a simple hanging sign that looks like an embroidered rose carved into the wood of it.

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((Also figure this way if you don't want/need a paid for Davrin rn you can use the points for a different journal.))

"You! You didn't even want him on the team!" Illario accuses, stepping back, drawing his own knives at the ready. It's difficult to assess how much of his abilities are truly him, how much a reflection is on the real Illario. Lucanis trained with him up to a certain point, knew him better than anyone else. But then their training split paths, and the one Illario followed was one Lucanis looked down on, dismissed, didn't even see the knife until it was already in his back.

What else had he missed?

Not to mention, this wasn't really Illario - it was Lucanis, so there was so much of him that mirrored exactly what Lucanis moved like, the speed and skill he had, even if he lacked Spite's boosts. He wouldn't go down without a fight.

Spite held back and watched - but not the fight. Watched around, like he was waiting for something else to happen.

It takes a few exchanges of sword against dagger, shield against thin air as Illario moved before he made contact, for Darvin to call spawn shit on this.

"C'mon, you know he isn't this good. Stop building him up and think about what's really there."

This was, obviously, also about everything else Illario wasn't actually- a faithful brother, a loyal grandson. Somehow more innocent than Lucanis himself. But it's easier to phrase it in reference to his swordsmanship alone.

"That's the thing, isn't it?" Illario said, voice silken even as he breathed hard from the fight. "He doesn't know. If he's wrong about who's side I'm on, what else doesn't he know about me?"

His daggers came up again, flashing-

"There!" Spite cried out. Illario shuddered, gasped - fell, bleeding out, knife wound in his side.

Behind him, a young man. Boy, really. Skinny, in the same outfit those Crows in training wore, maybe twelve, thirteen, cascade of dark hair. This young, hard to tell which cousin, they looked so much alike. But when he looked up at Davrin it was Illario's deep blue rather than Lucanis' brown eyes. Bloody knife in his hand from where he had stabbed his older self.

What was really there.

Lucanis didn't know what was there with Illario now. But he knew what was there back when they were children. Illario the confidante, the protector, the unfailing ally. Illario who wouldn't allow anything to hurt him.

They both vanished into motes of light, and there was a loud cracking sound as the door behind them broke open, a yawning cavern into complete darkness with smoke pouring from it.

Davrin watched after the faint motes of light that had been the child, unmoving, letting the heavy weight of the blade in his hand ground him. What had happened, over the years? Davrin doubted Illario knew. The grandmother probably had the most insight- if she were capable of objectively seeing how her own choices dominated her family. He thought of Bellara and her brother. How much a person can change, when you aren't looking for it.

But that was how it was. No use waxing poetic about it or wondering what caused what. It had all happened, whatever the reason. The results had to be delt with now. He sheathed his sword and walking into the smoke.

"I thought that was the last one."

"He stays. Make him leave."

Spite's voice was a growl following behind Davrin. The smoke cleared once they were through, blackness eventually giving way to a room with rows upon rows of those glass jars the venatori used to hold the blood they powered their rituals with. Lucanis sat at a low piece of architecture that looked like an altar, several other smaller jars around him. He looked tired, worn out - worse than his worst day Davrin had ever seen him at. He still looked up when Davrin came in, confusion on his features.

"... Davrin? What are you doing here?"

Was this really what Rook had found He'd have to ask, later, when he'd had a few days to let this settle and sit. How much was real, how much was Lucanis' version- for all he knew, it had looked much, much worse than what Lucanis was willing to let him see. Though he expected this was probably close to it, at least when he was left 'on his own,' without the mages in sight. Lucanis didn't tend to shelter himself from the truth of things.

"That's going to be something for the mages to answer. What matters is what you're doing. This can't be healthy."

It's the greatest understatement he's ever made, but after arguing and fighting literal shadows of the Crow's mind, he's just going to state the obvious. Mostly because the words are secondary as he strides across the room, armor oddly muted in this strange place, to crouch down before Lucanis and attempt to place his hands on his shoulders.

"Found you."

It was funny - when Davrin thought that- that this might not be as bad as Rook had found him - it was like those carved reliefs where if you point the light on one side the shadows form one image, but change the angle and it gives a different image.

Lucanis, exactly as Davrin had met him, maybe with darker circles under his eyes but otherwise the polished Crow. Lucanis, worn out and tired, worse than he let himself be seen. Lucanis, truly haggard, cheeks sunken, shadows under his eyes darker than ever before, tevinter prison clothing stained with blood and shackles leaving deep bruises on wrists and ankles.

He drew in a breath when Davrin knelt. All the first Lucanis - put together, polished. He didn't hide from harsh truths.. but neither did he want Davrin to see him like this. He sagged slightly at the hands on his shoulders, leaned in to press his forehead against the elf's.

"You shouldn't have. This is no place for you. You should go."

His voice was gentle and sad, reaching up to cover one of Davrin's hands with his own and squeeze it.

"See?! He stays! Keeps us BOTH here!"

Spite had no problems ruining this moment, apparently. Lucanis swore.

"Who would want to stay here?"

So many versions to see, so much to take in from all of this. But, much like ignoring the written notes or other details Rook would have scoured over, Davrin closed his eyes for now as Lucanis' forehead rested against his, leaning in and simply taking in the feeling of skin against skin that he couldn't feel through his gauntlet covered hands rather than closely watching the other man's face.

"Great question. You two can puzzle that out together when we're actually out."

"I can't. You should, though. You don't belong in a place like this."

For all that being a Warden meant signing up to possibly die in the Deep Riads, Lucanis thought Davrin belonged someplace with open sky above him. Not trapped in this crumbling prison.

"Neither do you. C'mon."

He slid his hands lightly down to Lucanis' upper arms, making sure to grip without hurting, an easy rookie mistake to make in heavy armor, but he hadn't been that for a long time now. He stared to slowly stand, trying to pull Lucanis up with him, forehead still pressed against his. Too much resistance, and he'll stay as they were for another moment.

"I don't know what an 'exit' looks like here, but keeping moving's worked so far."

One foot in front of the other. It worked fighting gods, surely it would work here, too.

Lucanis does let himself be pulled to his feet by Davrin, lost in the sensation of the other man's skin against his, of looking into those warm brown eyes he could get lost in. How did he come to deserve someone so steadfast and true? 'Assan', he'd named the griffon, but Davrin always flies the course like an arrow, himself.

Besides, 'how did he deserve this', that's so easy. He doesn't.

"Even if I can get through a door, I just end up going in circles," Lucanis confesses, bringing his hands up to Davrin's face, thumbs gently caressing at his cheeks. He wants nothing more than to follow the true north that Davrin feels like, but he always gets lost somehow. Better to not drag Davrin off-course with him, isn't it? "Just leave me behind."

He closed his eyes for a moment, tilting into the feeling of the caress against his cheeks. The sheer incongruency between Lucanis' words and actions was jarring; one telling him to go and the other begging him to stay. He'd do both, of course. He'd get out of this prison with Lucanis at his side. It was just a question of how. Why were they here, when they'd broken all the locks?

Without opening his eyes, Davrin took a moment to take his gauntlets off, the heavy metal falling to the ground. It was the fade, surely he could have willed them away somehow, but it was more solid, grounding, to simply do it himself. Then he brought one naked hand up to rest on the back of Lucanis' neck, gently holding him in place as he pulled back just enough to briefly press his lips against the other man's forehead. He pulled back just enough to speak after, Lucanis no doubt still able to feel every word.

"Mm. You know that's not going to happen. Let's pick a place we'll go first," he lightly moved the thumb on the back of his neck, gently rubbing his spine. "We were in the Lighthouse, remember?"

(( also saw this and lol))

The Lighthouse was a stable part of the Fade, their own little bubble of safety where things mostly worked the way they were supposed to. This, though - this was pure. And like the Fade, things worked on their own weird dream logic. Like they felt they should work. So sure, the gauntlets could have been willed away, but for the two least magical men in the whole Lighthouse, this was easier. Closer to real. Closer to grounding.

Lucanis let out a deep sigh as Davrin's warm palm rested on the back of his neck, as he felt the press of lips against his forehead. Strong calloused fingers against bone so close to the surface, the gentlest caress right where you'd slip a knife for a fast clean kill. Lucanis let his eyes shut.

"Were we? I don't ... I don't remember."

"Mmhm. In the pantry. With your cot."

He was not calling what Lucanis used to sit and drink coffee on a bed. Cot was generous enough. He kept moving his thumb against the back of his neck, very consciously choosing not comparing the Crow's response to how Assan leaned in to attention. 'Born killers' and 'living weapons,' just looking for a soft, safe place to rest. No wonder he was helpless against them both.

"We're going to Treviso to deal with your family. That-" Lucanis could probably feel him frown lightly, as he tried to once more wrestle his own opinions on Caterina down. He decided to refocus onto the Crow lieutenants, people he actually had come to at least respect. "-along with your friends, want you back."

The next exhale shook with held back emotion as Davrin talked. There were only three kinds of people that mattered in Lucanis' world view. Family, enemies, and contracts. Davrin had earned a spot in 'family', but -- he was something more now, too. Something new. It helped Lucanis think, where he might have floundered before.

"... I think I am afraid to leave. That's why I can't get out," Lucanis said, voice a rough whisper against Davrin's jaw. "What if I end up hurting someone? What if I end up hurting you, or Assan?"

"I'll kill you first."

It's not the most romantic sentiment, but it's a true one, at least when it comes to Assan. Davrin would probably let Lucanis and Spite chew him up more than a little before he even tried fighting back at this point. Laying a claw on the griffon was an entirely different matter; but, he had a feeling even Spite would understand the problem with crossing that line.

He pulled back enough to focus on Lucanis' face and used his other hand to try and tip his chin up to meet his eyes. He was serious as the grave- as serious as he'd been when he took his oath.

"But it won't come to that. Because you can do this. You and Spite, you can figure something out. You've got this, and I've got you."

((had to quote the hot mess express from BG3 in this. obviously))

Maybe not the most romantic sentiment - but it's what Lucanis needs to hear. And in a way, that's romantic for him. It's different than Davrin's threats at the beginning. Lucanis would rather die than hurt either of them. Maybe it shows in his own face as he tilts his chin up at Davrin's directing, looking into his eyes. For the first time in a long time, it feels like the future has some hope in it, with Davrin believing in him. The man was too certain to put his faith in anything that wasn't real.

"...I think I'm ready to leave now."

And that was all it took. They were back in the pantry, Lucanis standing a short distance away, Spite -well, still there, but no longer visible as Lucanis paused and looked around.

"How long-?" but he saw his cup of coffee he'd made a little before Davrin came in, and the steam was still coming off of it. Not enough for it to cool significantly.

Davrin had been about to hold back, focus on getting out. He didn't want to remember it happening in the Fade version of a Venatori dungeon, where in the wrong angle of light he could still see bruises on the Crow's wrists and ankles. He'd been ready to let it go and wait.

But they were back in the Lighthouse. In Lucanis' (practical, but still in his opinion a little insane) hideaway behind the kitchen where everything smelled like coffee and herbs. This place was fine for it.

He should have probably checked that Lucanis wasn't in a hair-trigger mood, ready to stop Davrin's progress without thinking, but he was already in too much of a forward momentum. Assuming no grappling or sudden appearance of knives, he ignored the question and closed the few steps between them to return his hand to the back of Lucanis' neck and hold him in place for a firm, but relatively chaste, kiss.

Not in a hair trigger mood. A little disoriented - now made that much more so with the sudden approach and hand on his neck again and - oh - oh. His question about what Davrin was doing dies on his lips, lips now pressed to Davrin's, no chance to second guess himself or talk himself out of it.

And the world doesn't end. Spite doesn't jump out to stab anyone. Nothing awful happens. It's just a kiss. Simple and sweet and Lucanis is stunned for only a moment before he's returning it, his own hands going around Davrin's waist.

Spite and him need to hash things out more, but - Spite lets him have this, and stays quiet.

Davrin appreciates Spite's generosity in letting the two mortals involved end the kiss on their own terms rather than a spirit interrupting. Davrin stands close for a long moment after, just as he had in the prison, hand on the back of Lucanis' neck and foreheads lightly pressed together.

"The Fade here is disturbing enough. Let's not do that again."

Lucanis was not touched often in ways that were not violent. Not for a long time. If he'd been asked a day ago he would have thought without question a hand on his neck would have set him off, too much training to ever be comfortable with it. He doesn't want Davrin to ever stop touching him there, now. It's comforting. Anchoring. Lucanis feels like he can breathe.

"I apologize. I - suppose I am not entirely 'over' my time in the Ossuary and what happened to me there, as I had previously thought."

He exhales, soft, a breath against Davrin's lips.

"... Thank you for showing me a way out. I suppose I owe Spite some gratitude for dragging you in as well."

"You didn't do anything to be sorry for. All that- it's on them."

Zara, Illario, the Venatori in general, the Crows for existing to begin with- them encompassed so very much. Davrin wasn't sure which to blame more, but he was sure Lucanis wasn't at fault for any of it. Not for what had happened to him for the last year, not for what they'd just been through.

"You went from that hell to fighting gods. 'Getting over' anything wasn't ever an option."

He wasn't sure the little time that Rook could allow them to sort themselves out would be anywhere enough time to start that getting over, either- anymore than Davrin just focusing on the griffons could count as getting over his entire training to slay an archdemon being for nothing. But lingering on that wasn't something he wanted, here and now. When things were just nice, here in the little pantry closed off from the rest of existence.

"At least we know what Spite was yelling about now."

Lucanis was not sure he was ready to say none of it was his fault. If it was his fault, it was within his control, and he had far more power over the situation. But it was a sweet thought, and coming from Davrin it meant a lot to him. Getting over their issues would definitely take more time than they had, but...

This was a start. A step forward. One made with good company. He only hoped that someday he could help Davrin even a fraction of the same way, if the other man ever needed that kind of help.

"Ah, Andraste, yes we do. I thought - it doesn't matter what I thought he meant."

That last part gets a slightly wry smile. It seems silly now regardless. Especially when there's something else he wants to think about more.

"... May I kiss you again?"

A grin spread over his face without him meaning it to. That wasn't what he'd been expecting, had figured it would be...something. Hard, dark talk. Blight and revenge and everything else they were buried in their necks up to. That, though? It shook wondering what Lucanis had thought Spite meant right out of his head. Davrin supposed it was a good thing Lucanis had his hands on his waist and not his neck or chest, because he certainly would have felt the way Davrin's pulse sped up.

"We already agreed on the hunt. You don't have to ask."

Lucanis had just as much right to turn Davrin into the prey, after all. Two predators willingly circling one another.

That grin speeds up Lucanis' pulse. They have things they need to do - he needs the coffee, needs to meet with the other Crows to make plans, but - he needs another kiss from Davrin, first.

Needs this precious moment to last as long as it can.

He hasn't pursued anyone like this. Never had this kind of hunt. It's easier with Davrin having crossed that threshold first. Lucanis knows he'd have probably chickened out of a kiss otherwise. Lost his nerve, consumed with the doubts of someone he cared about having seen him in such a state, being such a failure. Would have over-thought every step and been lucky if whoever caught his eye didn't get bored waiting.

... was doing it even now, apparently.

"Don't be so smug, Orsacchiotto."

Except there's nothing but fondness in his voice before he presses another kiss to Davrin's lips, a little less chaste.

One Short Day In Antiva City

<3 Thank you for the threads!

Re: <3 Thank you for the threads!

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it's not veilguard without someone ruining the possible first kiss moment

Weeps IT'S TRUE (at least Lucanis isn't doing it to himself this time)

he is truly his own worst enemy. even spite judged that

✨️dumpster fire disaster bi✨️

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lol spite is oddly one of the most open minded of them all

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Beautiful <3

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I feel someone needs to walk in on them soon lol

Countdown to Rook helpfully coming to get Lucanis to go to Treviso in 5, 4, 3... XD

Rook: the best/worst wingman

Spite takes a close second.

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