Archive of Our Own ^beta

Lights flashed in Lucanis’s face as he stepped through the eluvian.

“Mierda,” He groans to himself. “Who leaves the lights on at this time?”

With a slight swoon of disorientation, light sensitivity, and a pounding headache, he takes in his surroundings. She was right, he’s back at the Lighthouse.

“That shouldn’t have worked... Thank you, Bela.” He mumbles as another pair of footsteps hit the Lighthouse floor.

“You’re welcome, but are you sure I shouldn’t look at that eye of yours?” Bellara hops in front of him. “It’s starting to look really bad. What did you do? Walk into something? A bruise like that would ask for a particular angle, but then you’re also a Crow.”

“I’m fine. I’ve had worse than a black eye and bruised ribs. You should head back to your room before Rook needs us again. I’m grabbing a drink and then I’ll head to my ro-”

“Pantry. Alright.” Bellara disrupts. “Take care, Lucanis, and don’t forget to sleep for once.”

With a worried look in her eyes, one almost like pity (oh how he hates pity ), Bellara walks off. Knowing her she’ll be nowhere close to her room, but he needs a moment to collect his thoughts before conversing again. Bless her for taking the hint.

With a crack in his back, he walks through the hall, past the kitchen, and to the dining room. Good, no one’s here. Lucanis thinks to himself. Even fewer people he has to explain to what happened. Maker, he hasn’t even had a second to think and process it himself.

Walking past the fireplace, Lucanis opens the door on his left. It may be a pantry to some, but it’s his pantry and has all the necessities one needs. Also, no one expects someone to live in a pantry. Perfect place for an assassin to hide. (The being close to the coffee beans is just an even bigger, maybe more important win.)

Walking in Lucanis hangs his coat and vest on a hanger and unbuttons the top two buttons of his blouse, not knowing if it’s the tensity or the adrenaline from what happened that made it this hot in here or if it’s something else. Unbuttoning the cuffs and rolling up his sleeves, Lucanis moves to the mirror to check his injuries. He may have changed over the past year: longer hair that is combed back and falls past his shoulders, and a neatly kept beard, but some things stay the same. “You still pack one hell of a punch, cousin.” Lucanis mumbles, staring at himself in the mirror. That eye is definitely swelling, just like that cut on the right side of his face. Well, who's kidding, he deserved it.

One would think, in a place that people jokingly call a pantry, there’d be something to lessen swelling. But after overturning another cabinet Lucanis sighs and heads out the door, closing it before heading back in the direction of the kitchen. Laying his fingertips on top of one of the chairs against the dining table, he steadies himself before moving on, slowly gliding his fingers over the smooth wooden frame.

The kitchen is, as expected, empty. Knowing where the ice is, this isn’t his or one of the others' first rodeo, Lucanis moves to the cabinet with a towel in hand. Slowly sliding into one of the chairs against the island he absently wraps the towel over the ice and holds it against his eye. What stings first, gradually becomes a more pleasurable, cool sensation. “That’s... better.” He sighs in between breaths. It’s quiet, for some maybe too quiet, but in this case? It’s perfect. Memories of the last few hours are coming back, hitting him like a brick. Sighing, Lucanis closes his eyes. Just a few seconds to catch his breath, then he’ll go back to his room. Just a few seconds to calm down. Without noticing, his mind begins to wander.

With his hands in his pocket and a hood to conceal his face, Lucanis walks the dark streets of Treviso at night. Anyone who knows, or well, knew him knows he’d be the last to admit he missed the quiet streets. But here he is. The quiet zoom of nobles hosting their lavish parties. A couple with a little too much wine in their systems taking advantage of a dark alleyway. The quiet rambling of the market beginning to close down. The rustling of the bushes was almost in harmony with the soft sloshing river water. It’s something he never really appreciated until it was gone. It was weird being back in Antiva with Rook. He’d been in some sort of self-preservation mode, pointing out different points of interest for Rook and the team to keep track of. But alone, being able to take in the sounds and smells on his own terms? Maker, did it feel good.

“Now, where was it.”

Standing still in one of the alleyways not being used by drunken lovers, Lucanis pulls out the small note Rook had given him the day before. He’d opened the note with a curiosity and Rook, ever the curious one, peeked over his shoulder. The note was bare except for handwriting he couldn’t place. All it said were three sentences:

‘11pm, west side of Treviso. Three blocks to the right of the Cantori Diamond. Look for a door being blocked by two crates with an A written on them.

~ M. D. L.’

Rook had insisted on joining him, maybe out of worry, maybe out of suspicion, but conceded without putting up much of a fight. This was something for him to do, but Maker only knows who or what was waiting for him. Might be an old contact, enemy, or someone with an old vendetta against him. He knows that he made a couple of enemies when he was still very much active within the Crows. Anyone who knows the Dellamorte name knows Lucanis, for better or for worse. It’s only fair that he alone will deal with whatever mess he’s gotten himself into this time.

Walking past the Diamond Lucanis’s mind slips into absent memories of him and Illario, even Teia. She always had an eye out for them to get them out of whatever possible trouble Illario got them. Maybe because Caterina asked her to, but Lucanis knew Teia had cared. Turning the corner, Lucanis spots the building the note-giver had explained. Grabbing one of his go-to knives, maybe for protection, maybe for comfort, he checks the crates and then the door. Unlocked. With a swift motion, he vanishes inside the building, closing the door quietly. Inside he sees two chairs and a table. On the table stands a lantern that houses a small flame, reflecting in a park of dark eyes. Shit.

With a moment of reflex or pure luck, Lucanis turns his body to the right as a dagger flies past his face and cuts his cheek before getting stuck into the wall. He knows it would’ve struck more fatal if he stood there any longer. “Well now, that isn’t a way to treat a guest.” Lucanis grins as he takes out his other hilted knife as warm blood drips from the cut, ready to attack. Within a few seconds though, the realization hits. There’s only one person who’d know his build enough to know where to strike where it wouldn’t be fatal. One of the daggers Lucanis was holding falls on the floor with what feels to be an earth-shattering clang. M. D. L., M. D. L.

Fuck.

Master Lucanis the Lesser. Of course, it is. As Lucanis spirals, with a snap, he’s taken back to reality as a voice rings out of the darkness. “It is a way to treat someone who has been too occupied to talk to family. Or have you forsaken us, cousin.”

Silence fell. It felt like there was no air in the dark room as Lucanis counted the seconds. A figure, short but lean in build, struts out of the darkness. Hair slicked back on his head into a tight bun, Illario Dellamorte walks over. There’s a certain anticipation in his steps, Lucanis thinks, like he has been here a while. When he’s in front of him, Lucanis does not move as a fist flies to his chest. A hearable crack can be heard after another fist flies to his head and hits him right in the eye. Reeling back, Lucanis steadies himself against a couple of crates. He knows he deserved that after letting his family go through his seemingly untimely demise.

“What is it, cousin? You didn’t expect someone to track you down after hearing from Caterina that you weren’t dead?”

It made sense, Lucanis thought as he got a good look at Illario. Caterina had ears everywhere, and with the work he had been doing with Rook, of course, she’d gotten word that he wasn’t dead. That he was captured. If she knew about the demon, she certainly hasn’t told anyone.

“Illario, I-” Not even a word in, Illario started pacing back and forth. It was something Lucanis had seen countless times when they were away on a contract together. Whenever frustrated or angry, he would pace back and forth for up to 10 minutes or until Lucanis told him to sit his ass down. But today, it wasn’t his place to say that he had to calm down.

“You knew we were looking for you. You  knew  I’d  be  looking for you. What did you think that you could just vanish into thin fucking air? Merde Lucanis. We thought you  were  dead . You know some of us organized a wake for you, right? Viago and Teia put their goddamn souls into that. And what do we get for caring? Absolutely nothing. A single tip telling us you were with another crew, saving the world.”

The pacing stopped as Illario marched straight to Lucanis and stared him down, his angry façade cracking into that of pain. “Were we not enough Lucanis? Tell me, 'cause I’m going insane.”

Lucanis put a hand on Illario’s shoulder, carefully. “You were cousin. You were. It’s... just been a long year. Here,” he says as he tightens the grip on Illario’s shoulder as he walks with him to the table. “Sit. I know I’ll need to. I didn’t have the time, but I’ve got all the time you want right here and now.”

A soft smile came across Lucanis’s face as he said those last few words. It’s been a long time since he spoke to Illario and there was a lot to be said. He’d make sure to give him all the time he needed. He’d told Bellara before splitting when they arrived in Treviso that it might take longer, but she didn’t have to worry. Right now, all that mattered was Illario.

Slightly disorientated, Lucanis stands up. He’s never been one to zone out, but it’s been happening more often than he’d like to admit. “Hell, I’ll save the regrets for when I’m unable to sleep again”, he says out loud as he stretches, forgetting his bruised ribs. A pained grimace escapes his face as he puts one hand on the place where Illario punched him. If one thing hasn’t changed, he thinks, it’s that Illario still packs one hell of a punch. As if it’s routine, he stalks to the coffee pot. What’s better in times of momentary distress than a hot cup of coffee?

Changing the filter, Lucanis absent-mindedly checks his surroundings, filtering noises to see where they’re coming from. Nothing, except for a silent voice that grows louder with each step. “… and elfroot. Manfred, take this down please.” A small, silent giggle escapes Lucanis’s mouth. Of course, he’s awake, he thinks. Out of either habit or a sneaking suspicion, he moves to the kettle to start making tea as the clattering of Manfred’s bones comes closer.

“And don’t forget Manfred, we need to get this working in less than a we-” There’s an abrupt stop in paces as Lucanis knows Emmrich sees him. “Evening Mr. Dellamorte.” Another small laugh escapes Lucanis, followed by a sigh. This time for Emmrich and Manfred to hear. “Evening professor, how many times have I mentioned you may just call me Lucanis?”

“Numerous times if I recall correctly, but I have also mentioned that one of your stature and title within the esteemed Antivan Crows shouldn’t be called by their first name. But if you insist.” Emmrich clears his throat as a smooth voice comes out.

“Evening Lucanis .”

Shivers run over Lucanis’s spine as his name leaves Emmrich’s mouth. Why did he have to say it like that? Hoping to not seem frazzled, he’s thankful as Emmrich sits down at one of the counter tables and tells Manfred to head back to their chambers to keep an eye on whatever experiment they are working on. Maker only knows what those scientific names that he says like it’s nothing mean.

“No matter names, what are you doing up so late? Something haunting your dreams again? Insomnia?”

As the clattering of bones gets quieter, Lucanis tries to keep his voice steady as his bruised ribs flare up. “Not really, though I’m sure that’ll happen. Just came back from a quick... meeting. Earl grey, as usual?”

“Yes, thank you ever so much.’’ The disapproval in Emmrich’s voice drops and hits like a knife to the gut as he sighs. ‘‘So, you went alone despite Rook telling you it might have been a trap? When are you ever going to learn that you don’t need to do everything alone?”

Lucanis sighs and stands up straight as he grabs their favorite cups out of one of the cabinets. There’s no way Emmrich would say he has a favorite cup, but Lucanis has seen that every time he has tea, it’s in a specific cup. His finger glides over the small skull that’s painted on the cup, with vines around it and some flowers that Lucanis still hasn’t learned the names of.

“I said it before. I won’t drag any of you into what may have been my own mistakes haunting me. Also, Bellara joined me, so I was not alone.” He says, pouring their chosen beverages into their respective cups.

“Ah, Miss. Lutare .” It almost sounds bitter. Is that jealousy? “Well, I’m pleased to hear you didn’t head to Treviso alone. How did it go?”

Well, there’s no turning back now. “It went... fine.” Lucanis says as he finishes their drinks, grabs both their cups, and turns around. Not knowing if it’s good or bad, Lucanis notices Emmrich checking him out. The unbuttoned top of his blouse, the rolled-up sleeves.

After a second Emmrich notices he’s staring and clears his throat, now focussing on the way Lucanis stands to avoid pressure on his ribs. The black eye. A deep cut on his cheek.

“Might I say, you look absolutely horrendous.” A clearable tone of concern comes with Emmrich’s words.

Lucanis almost smiles, if only the cut on his cheek would stop burning. “You may not, but I appreciate the honesty. A fresh breath.” Without thinking, Lucanis gives Emmrich his cup of tea and sits down next to him. Maybe it’s not that bad that he’s here.

“Thank you, Lucanis. Now, what in good god left you in such a miserable state.” Emmrich exclaims as he takes the cup Lucanis is holding out. Maker, I hope he doesn’t notice the trembling. Lucanis thinks as their fingers gently brush against each other, neither letting go for a second.

“It doesn’t matter, I’ll be going-”. Soon is what he wanted to say, but a gentle yet firm hand places itself on Lucanis’s shoulder. Looking to his side, Emmrich looks at him with a stern but concerned expression.

“Fine.” Lucanis sighs. How one ever said no to Emmrich Volkarin is a mystery to him, as the story he did not want to share with anyone but hide away with his other secrets and embarrassments just spills out.

“And so, we ended on somewhat good terms again, but not before he got mad at least three more times,” Lucanis says as he takes a sip of his now cold coffee, grinning. “At least he didn’t hit me again, so I’d call that progress.” Silence falls. By looking at Emmrich Lucanis can see the gears turning, trying to find what to say without it being distasteful of the experience or person and organization involved.

“I don’t know,” Emmrich says after a minute, looking at him with a face that doesn’t say concern, but maker knows what. “That does explain why you look... tired, Lucanis. Does it hurt?”

Lucanis shrugs. “Nothing I haven’t felt. You should’ve seen me after the Vyrantium job. Illario didn’t know what he was seeing. A bunch of broken ribs and blood of which I didn’t know who it was from.”

That was... too much detail, wasn’t it? “Anyway,” he mumbles to save himself there, “I’ll make my leave, may you have a good night Mr. Volkarin.”

As Lucanis stands up to leave, a slim but strong hand grabs his forearm, and he has to fight the urge to not go into fight or flight mode.

“That doesn’t make this okay.” A stern voice states in a tone Lucanis hadn’t heard from Emmrich before. “I know it’s all family and business for you, but this is not the standard.”

“Emmrich?” A frown sets across Lucanis’s face as he stares almost in disbelief into the eyes of the professor, which are almost burning into him. Is Emmrich giving him a talking-to?

“I’m aware that you grew up having to deal with some emotional neglect from your grandmother and that you forgave her long ago, but this? I couldn’t have forgiven her for this. It’s entirely unacceptable.” As those words leave his mouth, even Emmrich is stunned as he composes himself and lets go. “Pardon me. I shouldn’t have.” Emmrich stands up and turns to head back to his chambers. “Good night, Mr. Del-”

He stops after a few paces, this time Lucanis being the one who places a hand on his forearm. A moment of silence hits as Lucanis debates on what to say, his hand still wrapped around the small wrist wrapped in a thin cotton blouse with plenty of golden bracelets. “No, stay. Please. I was just perturbed with your intentions. I’m not mad.”

With a small audible laugh, Emmrich turns around. “Well, in that case, sit. You look like you don’t want to explain all of this to Rook or anyone else, yet. We better get those cuts taken care of.”

Lucanis freezes in his place, his mind racing. “I appreciate the candor, but I’ll be okay.” Every time Emmrich is close, his heart pulses. Some day, that will give him away. He’d never be good at dealing with what the heart desires, so it is best to just leave this for what it is.

But what is it, a nervousness? A one-sided tender feeling?

Even with all the conviction, it only takes one stern look from the professor for Lucanis to sit on one of the couches.

“Now, now Dellamorte,” Emmrich says and projects a somewhat teasing smile as he sits down, legs crossed and waiting. “I may be a healer, but I can’t heal through fabric. Take it off if you would be so kind.” As Emmrich takes off his rings and cleans his hands with sanitizer, slowly gliding past each finger, Lucanis feels his heartbeat go faster. This was not part of his plan. Yes, it would’ve hurt for a couple of days but like he said, it’s nothing he hasn’t dealt with before. But this, a gentleman asking for permission to heal his wounds out of concern? Now that has his mind racing.

Slowly as to not show the shaking in his hands Lucanis unbuttons the rest of his blouse, all the way to the bottom. Emmrich’s stare gets more intense as his eyes follow Lucanis’s hands very intensely one by one the buttons come loose, and a tiny fragment of skin becomes visible. Finally, Lucanis shrugs off his shirt and leans onto the couch.

“Well, Emmrich, do what you do best.” He says with a coy smile. Emmrich almost looks stunned, and Lucanis is pleased with himself. Looks like some of Illario’s tactics were still hanging in the back of his head.

A few seconds go by as Emmrich stares. First at the features on his face with the small visible trace of blood where Illario’s knife graced a, then the veins in his neck as they disappear into his chest where a bruise formed from broken ribs is forming. “My my Lucanis, your cousin had a bone to pick with you.”

As those words leave his mouth, Emmrich mumbles a couple of incantations as his hands start to glow with a dull green light. “Now I need you to stay still when I touch you.” All Lucanis can do is watch as Emmrich’s long tender fingers move. Even with him having to stay still, he out of instinct winces as the first of the soft fingertips touch the skin that has turned blue around his ribs. “I assume that doesn’t feel delightful?” Emmrich says as his hand starts moving around the area. Mierda that hurts. 

“No,” Lucanis grins through the pain, “I can’t say it does.” “Well, that means that the magic is doing something. Do tell me if it gets worse, I’d hate to see you in unnecessary distress.” All he can do is nod as the professor now focuses on healing. First the ribs, then the cut on his face.

Lucanis almost regrets wincing again. “Now I’m not that terrifying, or am I?” Emmrich chuckles as he traces the spots on his face to the cut. A soft smile replaces the earlier grin Lucanis had on his face. “No, you’re perfectly fine professor.” Who even says that? “I’m glad to hear that, but stop talking now.”

To stop him from wincing, Emmrich takes his free hand and places a few fingers under Lucanis’s chin, holding his head up. If he could hear his heartbeat, it would’ve been over. Right now, Lucanis realizes, he’s completely at Emmrich’s mercy. If he’d ask him to jump from the balustrade in the main hall of the Lighthouse, he would. The staring continues as the professor slowly puts his flesh back together, bit by bit, almost teasingly slow and taking pleasure in having Lucanis’s face in his hands.

“Now, that’s the face I know,” Emmrich mumbles as he strokes the spot where the cut once was with his thumb to see if there are small bobbles. As that hand fades the other fingers stay on the soft beard and keep his head tilted upwards, making Lucanis stare into the professor's soft brown eyes. It’s not even an uncomfortable silence that follows; it's more like tension. Lucanis doesn’t know when it happened, but one second he felt nothing. The other, Emmrich’s soft but thin lips are slowly placed on his thicker, dryer ones. Instinct kicks in as he slowly loses his mind and leans into the softest kiss, placing his hand around the one Emmrich is holding his face with. Where Emmrich places his other hand on the no longer bruised side of Lucanis’s chest, he places it on the professor’s cleanly shaven cheek. 

Who knew the professor was this good at not only healing but also at taking away the always intrusive thoughts that occupy his mind?

Realizing what he has done, Emmrich abruptly sits up and straightens his vest. “Well, pardon me.” He says as Lucanis can’t help but stare into those soft eyes again, “I shouldn’t have.” Once again Lucanis takes his shirt and begins to button them back up, leaving the last three open. “No, professor. Maybe you shouldn’t have.” He sighs. “But that may have been the best medicine you could have given me. I appreciate it, and you.” A soft smile appears on Emmrich’s face as he stands up and begins the track back to his chambers, but not before stopping behind the couch and leaning down. “If this could last forever,” he whispers, “then I’d want to live forever.”

As the warm breath switches itself back to the cold Lighthouse air, Lucanis can’t help but smile. This man really does care, a lot. And Maker, is he glad to have someone that does.