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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Darvin was just as polite, biting off the follow up question as he took a pastry and made the appropriate thanks and compliments to the hostess. He may be here under a strange form of duress, but he had been raised right. Though he was going to have to start writing down the number of familial concerns he was gathering about Lucanis.

"Has he always had a sweet tooth?"

It was not until that moment that Lucanis realized that he had put Davrin in the perfect position to interrogate someone about Lucanis' past who was only too happy to answer. In his defense he expected Davrin to be too flustered over the whole ordeal to notice this opportunity until it had passed. Well, point for the Warden, and Lucanis made a mental note to not under-estimate his recovery time in the future.

"Oh, yes!" Alessa said cheerfully, as expected, only too happy to get their new guest talking. "Of course, he tried to pretend he did not. But he would always take a pastry and bring another home for his cousin too. Such a sweet boy."

"Ah, let's not bore the Warden with ancient history," Lucanis tried to interject.

"Don't be modest," Davrin countered, his own smirk showing up just for a look at Lucanis, then smoothing back out to a charming smile for their hostess.

The war continues. At least until the tailor returned and he was back to being a living mannequin.

"I'm sure you were a very interesting child."

La Rosa's return could not come fast enough. Lucanis shot the briefest glare at Davrin when Alessa was not looking his way. Sir, is this not beneath you, or something?

"I was quite boring," Lucanis insisted.

"Well behaved," Alessa corrected, reaching out to pat Lucanis on his arm. "Other young men his age, so rowdy, but he was always soft spoken and polite. Thoughtful, too. Once - oh, he could not yet have been twenty, I had to apologize for not having cornettos with the coffee that day because the woman we bought eggs from had to go south to take care of family and I could not find another person at market who wasn't charging exorbitantly for them. Just said he understood and there was no need to apologize - and then comes back an hour later with a basket of eggs and the name of a chicken farmer just outside of town and the days she came into Treviso to sell if that was too far."

Lucanis had far too much self control to blush, but he was quietly dying inside. It would figure she would tell the egg story, it was one of her favorites.

A small smile played on his lips as he watched Lucanis with amusement through the story. The dread Demon of Vyrantium- and literal demon host, to boot. Exactly who, without the requirements of his family, would this man have grown to be?

"Mm. Our friend Harding told me he came back to our group from a trip to Treviso with hand selected treats for each member. Too bad I wasn't on board yet."

Though given how this day was going, Lucanis may have just brought him back a slap to the back of the head in revenge.

When is a knife not a knife? It's like one of those riddles Taash hates that their mother probably would ask.

"Is this not a treat?" Lucanis asked, voice all mild innocence. It was excellent coffee and delicious pastry - and several new shirts, soon enough. "Though I was considering picking something up for Assan so he does not feel left out for me taking up your day like this."

"Assan?"

"Davrin's pet."

"Don't let a griffon hear you call him that."

It was, as Lucanis must know, a knee jerk reaction. Assan wasn't just a pet anymore than Solas was just an elf with a complicated romantic history. Honor must be defended.

"And unless you've invented a shred proof fabric, don't waste your gold."

Well played, Crow. It takes a few bites of pastry for Davrin to fully realize how easily Lucanis had utterly redirected the conversation. Asking the woman for sketching of her grandchildren couldn't have done a better job.

In truth it had been a two fold strategy of an answer. Lucanis wasn't certain how secret the whole griffon thing was. On the one hand people said it was before Davrin joined the team, but on the other Rook was regularly requesting him to knock down pallets chained up in the middle of dock town to give them something to climb up. So. 'Pet'. Good and nonspecific. And if Davrin just had to clarify...

If the information got out it was not Lucanis' fault, and it was a far more interesting subject than his own childhood.

"A griffon!" Alessa declared, looking between the two. "I thought they were extinct?"

Lucanis raised an eyebrow at Davrin. Your move to explain, sir.

They were technically a secret, yes. A secret only known to the Grey Wardens. And the Mourn Watch. And the Lords of Fortune. And the Veil Guard, the Threads, the Crows, all of Dock Town, Treviso, the remains of Inquisition, the Venatori, probably the Divine herself knowing Harding- really the list was shorter for people that didn't have a way to find out. And compared to ancient Elven and Dragon gods running around Blighting the land, it seemed almost unimportant to conceal. Really, it was a bit of good news in all the darkness, as Evka's sentiment had been.

"Where they went and how they came back are Warden secrets," he consciously didn't look over to see Lucanis' likely eye roll at that, "but, yeah. They're back now. I think they knew the world needed them. But they're not really ones for fashion."

Now he gave a side eye at Lucanis, underscoring that a certain Grey Warden was not exactly one for it, either.

Edited 2024-12-23 20:08 (UTC)

That eyeroll was practically audible, Davrin didn't need to be looking.

"Thats wonderful," Alessa said, because Evja had been right that at least all the news wasn't bad. A light of hope desperately needed. "You know - my son had one of those rocking griffons as a baby. His children just love it. They'll be so happy to hear."

And as for the fashion-

"I was hardly going to get a shirt made for Assan as well. Merely ask for recommendations to a good butcher in Antiva City while we are here. Although..."

He turned his attention to the older Dwarven woman, back to all pleasant and polite smiles. The well behaved young man all grown up.

"Could I perchance purchase a bag of scrap fabric, do you think? The cast offs that are normally bought by the rag pickers."

"Oh, I don't see that being a problem at all. I'm not sure we have a full bag yet..."

Lucanis waved a hand, 'no worries'.

"It is no emergency. Send it along with the other purchases to the Estate if there is one by then, or whenever convenient if not."

"Of course, I'll go let my husband know. I imagine he'll be about ready to have something for you to try on, Ser Warden - thank you so much for your patience and the good news," taking up any of the dishes that were finished, Alessa made her way into the back with a bounce in her step.

Davrin waited until he heard the woman's footsteps fall away, and that her husband's weren't replacing them, before looking over at Lucanis with a raised eyebrow.

"More ropes? Assan and Spite are going to build a nest with all the remains at this rate."

He couldn't help but snort a small laugh at that mental image, unbidden as it was.

"For further shredding," Lucanis clarified, tone mildly offended. "Shathann is keeping us well enough stocked in ropes to not need to outsource. Besides, there's likely to be some bright colorful patterns in there, Harding might like to use them to patch something up."

... he was pointedly trying to not think about how much use those ropes were getting, how that was definitely not what Taash's mother had been sending them for. He didn't know why it made him feel heat on his neck to think about, it wasn't anything illicit. Getting a chance to sleep because Spite, apparently, could be tamed by Davrin. Or at least brought to heel.

"Do griffons build nests? If so he deserves variety of material to choose from."

Spite, it was hard to tell what was what the demon did and what was a case of - like an unruly child - him witnessing something and simply trying to repeat it.

"Shredding and tug of war," he pointed out. He'd meant more tug-of-war-ropes, but got why Lucanis took it that way. What might be a faint blush- hard to tell, even if Lucanis was several shades lighter than him- was the only reason he tried to clarify. He wasn't aiming to make Lucanis feel bad about the situation that was actually working out. That could only end in him going back to being half-asleep during battle again. Bad for everyone all around.

"And that's...I don't know. I think so, when he gets old enough to want to impress a mate. I was only ever supposed to keep them safe, not figure out how to raise the next generation after this one."

Ah, well, now that was even more mildly embarrassing. Time to just ignore all that.

"Well. At least you will probably not have to explain to him how to make an egg?" Lucanis said instead of addressing anything else. Sure he was more than just an animal, but he seemed to have pretty solid instincts from what Lucanis was hearing.

"I'm going to forget you said that."

Entire conversation? Gone. He was having enough trouble with the fact they next generation would have to be, by default, inbred. Unless there was another ancient monster out there guarding a different clutch.

"But I know he'll appreciate you cooking for him. Just don't start it unless you're ready to make it a habit."

Trust Davrin, the once mighty Warden reduced to near full-time truffle hunter.

Maybe inbreeding didn't matter as much for griffons. One could hope whoever saved the one clutch had a plan for just that ~~and wasn't just doing her best in the 11th hour while struggling against her own Calling, praying whoever found them would have a solution~~.

"I have seen what everyone else eats when left to their own devices, I already make a habit of it for everyone else, why not him as well?" Lucanis didn't do one hundred percent of the cooking, but it was basically in the high seventies. "Besides, did I see you trying to feed him yams at one point?"

"What's wrong with yams?"

Said with the defensiveness of someone that has definitely spent at least a week eating nothing but baked yams on the road. Possibly more than once.

"Clans have lasted entire winter seasons on yams."

Lucanis leans in a bit, that faint smirk coming back to hear the defensiveness.

"And you are an elf. I admittedly do not know about griffons, but I have never witnessed a cat or a falcon eat a yam before," he said, ever so slightly teasing, but a bit exasperated as well.

"You want to be a professional griffon chef? Have at it. You'll be able to give up your coffee. Assan is nothing but hunger."

He'll be nudging at Lucanis all day and night for food, if the other man lets him. And for all his big scary demon of the Crows persona, Lucanis seemed to have a large soft spot when it came to animals- no, not just animals. People, too. Anyone, anything, willing to rely on him. Maybe that's how he ended up with Spite, the demon weaseling in to Lucanis' clear need to assist.

"But he still has to learn he can't always have what he wants. No one can."

Lucanis' business was murder, and his main hobby was taking care of people. What would he have become, had his grandmother not needed a weapon? He's not sure what caused Spite to be the demon that they were finally able to make stick. He knew it was not what Zara had been planning on, that he was a 'failure'. What she was actually trying for he was not sure.

He wanted to ask if that sentiment was what Davrin had learned from his parents, from his clan, before he had left them to ultimately join the Wardens. It wasn't his business, he knew, but he was just as curious what kind of life made someone like Davrin.

Before he could do something like let that foolish curiosity get the better of him, though, La Rosa returned with a bundle of fabric in a deep midnight blue that looked black in lower lighting.

"Here we go - if you please, Sir Warden, I just need to check the fit to see to any minor adjustments first," the older man said, cheerful.

Davrin stepped forward like a man about to face a sentencing, with shoulders back and face neutral, taking the shirt off again. Once more he was clay in La Rosa's hands, holding still where put, not complaining. Just mentally rolling the idea of Assan gaining a personal chef to everything else unexpected that had happened in his life.

He'd have to up his game, or Lucanis might end up being the role model the new breed of griffon tried to follow. And the last thing the Crows needed was more feathered killers.

Davrin was cozying up to Lucanis' demon, it was only fair. With the older man having returned it felt perfectly acceptable to watch the new shirt be tried on. Fitted but comfortably loose in the right places, with several small buttons along the front allowing the collar to be done all the way up (as Lucanis often wore) or something more open. The material was lighter and breathable while being dark enough that bloodstains would not show up easily on it.

"There's extra fabric around the shoulders to make sure you shouldn't be restricted in your movement, give it a try," La Rosa said, stepping back. He was used to outfitting at least one Crow - durable without restricting movement were both necessities for Lucanis.

He didn't have his sword and shield, but it was an easy enough memory to act through without the items on hand. Probably not needed, over all, but if he was going to try something out, he was going to try it. Lucanis, with his eyes of a raptor and all, may notice his wrists and fingers unconsciously move in addition to the rest of him, as if actually wielding his weapons.

And, damn the Crow, the shirt was the most comfortable thing he'd ever had on. He'll have to spend weeks getting used to not noticing it.

"Thank you, I- this is more than fine."

Oh, he notices. The smile that comes from that is less of a smirk, too. There's something oddly charming about it. About how much of a soldier Davrin is, through and through. Not born into it, but something he made for himself and made well.

"Very good!" La Rosa says, all smiles. He knows he does good work, but it's always a pleasure to see someone else realize that, too. "Let me just take care of a few of the stray threads and pins and I will be able to send it with you today. The rest I will send to the Dellamorte estate when finished, given the speed of parcel delivery these days - two weeks out, I think. If anything needs alterations when they arrive I will of course be happy to make those as well. Life happens to us all."

The last part said with a happy laugh, patting at his own waistline.

"Now, you needed to have your measurements re-taken as well, Ser Dellamorte?" La Rosa asked as he was taking back the shirt for the finishing touches. Lucanis blinked - he had been staring. Ah.

"... I think I have already taken up enough of Sir Warden's day with this, I can return another time for that."

"Oh, no, no. Please. We keep a busy schedule. Who knows when we'll have a break again?"

This first part is made with more than a bit of a vengeful smirk. He will not be the only one poked and prodded for entertainment, not if he can help it. The next part- while valid- is said more quietly as he steps down and retrieves his own, now noticeably scratchy, shirt from the arm chair. Voice pitched low enough where, if La Rosa is a respectable gentleman and not straining to hear, should only be heard by Lucanis.

"You can't have the same cut you did a year ago."

Even the hard life of a Crow couldn't have the same impact a year of straight torture must have had on the man. He was strong, undeniably. But Davrin wouldn't be entirely shocked if under all those layers he'd be able to count protuding ribs or vertebrae on Lucanis. Even with good food and regular battles, the body took longer to heal than it took to be damaged.

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Now imagining ugly Christmas sweater Assan

Omg, adorable.... little halla on it 🥺

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