Chapter Text
“Rook, do something!” Harding demanded in a desperate tone.
Rook’s eyes darted from the dwarf standing beside him, to the Qunari Warrior in front of the Eluvian, to the possessed assassin who had his back to him. Even though he was used to dealing with mischievous spirits in the Mourn Watch, he still felt an anxious wave run through him at the prospect of getting this wrong and hurting Lucanis. He’d never met a spirit like this before.
“Spite.” He said softly, raising his hands in front of him as if approaching a frightened animal.
Hearing Rook’s voice say his name, the demon turned quickly. A wide grin spread across Lucanis’ features as those bright violet eyes stared at the mage before him. “Rook.” Its voice was a strange distortion of Lucanis’ own and something more gravely, monstrous even. It inhaled deeply. “Smells like incense and bone dust.”
It sent a shiver down Rook’s spine. Still, he was determined to figure out what this spirit wanted. To talk to him, find a way to soothe him like he had many other spirits in the Necropolis. He took a small step forward, his hands still raised. “Where are you trying to go?”
The demon growled. “Out! Need out!”
“You can’t go out by yourself. It’s dangerous.” Rook said calmly. It would be easier to know how to appease it if he knew what the spirit was before being twisted into Spite. He made a mental note to ask Lucanis about it later.
“No!” Spite snapped, taking an aggressive step towards Rook that made the other two in the room tense. Taash looked like they were prepared to pounce on Lucanis and pin him down to the ground if needed. “We had! A deal!”
It didn’t seem like Spite was going to let go control of Lucanis easily. Rook had another idea if words didn’t work, but he was nervous to try it. He hadn’t shared this talent with his companions yet, and if it didn’t work he would just appear foolish. Still, it was better than risking the Crow getting hurt. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes.
“Shadows fall… and hope has fled…” Rook began to sing.
Harding turned to him in surprise, immediately recognizing the song. Taash’s face scrunched in confusion. Spite’s attention was focused entirely on Rook. Good.
“Steel your heart… the dawn will come…” As the mage continued his song, he took tentative steps towards Spite. “The night is long… and the path is dark…”
Lucanis’ body relaxed. Spite’s angry expression fell into one of curiosity, and its eyes locked with Rook’s. It was working, but they still needed Lucanis back.
“Look to the sky… for one day soon…” Rook had reached close enough to gingerly touch Lucanis’ forearm, not breaking eye contact with Spite. “The dawn will come…”
Violet eyes blinked, and when they opened again they were back to that deep brown of Lucanis’ own. “What… Rook?” The assassin’s eyes darted from Rook’s face, to the fingers delicately placed on his arm, then at the room around him. “Taash?” Realization hit him then, and his gaze dropped to the floor. “Ah…”
“You… tried to walk through the Eluvian in your sleep.” Harding offered as explanation.
“Spite wanted out.” Taash added. “Rook sang you awake. Or… something.”
Lucanis raised an eyebrow at the Qunari and then looked back at his leader. “What?”
Rook felt his face flush, and he quickly withdrew his hand to brush it through his white hair. “I… It’s a talent I have. Back in the Necropolis I discovered that when I sang or played music, it had a… soothing effect on spirits. I was hoping it might work on Spite, too.”
Lucanis stared at Rook in awe. It was enough to make the mage glance away in embarrassment. The one who broke the silence, however, was Taash. “Wait, you could do that this whole time? Why don’t you do it when we fight demons? Would save us a lot of work.”
“It’s kinda hard to sing when you’re dodging claws and fireballs.” Rook replied as he placed his hands on his hips. “And… I don’t really like to… sing in front of people.” He admitted quietly, suddenly very interested in his boots.
“But your voice is great!” Harding insisted, which didn’t exactly ease Rook’s embarrassment.
He heard Lucanis sigh. “I need coffee…”
Grateful for the shift in topic, Rook looked back up at the Crow with a small laugh. “You can’t just caffeinate your way out of this.”
“It’s hard for Spite to take control while I’m awake, so I try to stay awake.”
Rook’s face fell to a look of concern. He felt the urge to reach out and touch Lucanis again, but held himself back.
Harding spoke up before the mage could. “You can’t just stay awake forever. I think that would kill you.”
“I’ll be more careful next time.” Lucanis seemed to be brushing off this incident like it was just another day for him. Though, Rook supposed it was now.
“Lucanis…” There was a lot Rook wanted to say, but he wasn’t sure where to start. “We have to make Spite understand that he’s endangering you. Maybe I can–”
Lucanis cut him off. “He’s ‘Spite’, not ‘Learning’. He doesn’t listen to anyone.”
“He listened to Rook’s song.” Taash interjected with crossed arms.
That made Lucanis hesitate, but he shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. This won’t happen again.” He looked now to Rook with an unreadable expression. “And… thanks.” He said and then moved to head back into the Lighthouse.
“Go back. To Rook!” Spite demanded once Lucanis was back in the pantry he called his room. “Want to hear him. Sing. Again.”
Lucanis tried to ignore the demon, instead focusing on inhaling the rich aroma of his freshly brewed coffee. After the incident in the Eluvian room, Spite seemed to have gone dormant long enough for the Crow to brew a fresh pot and lock himself away again. It was quite nice for how short it was.
Spite growled as it glared at Lucanis and stomped its feet with each word. “I. Want. Rook!”
That phrasing made the Crow pause mid sip. He finally turned his attention to the demon with a sharp look. “Rook is not some toy, especially not for you.”
The demon grinned and blinked out of existence only to reappear kneeling beside Lucanis as he sat on the cot, their faces close together. “But he could be.”
The Crow recoiled from Spite and continued to glower at it. “What are you talking about?” He knew he shouldn’t indulge it, but sometimes he couldn't help it.
“Rook could be ours. ” Spite said, his grin widening more than what would have been physically possible on Lucanis’ own face. “We could. Make him sing for us. Only us.”
If he could push the demon away physically, he would have. He didn’t like that look in its eyes, hungry and yearning as if leering at an extensive buffet after a fast. “Rook is off limits.” Lucanis stated in a firm tone.
“No!” Spite roared and threw a potato across the room. It seemed like it was at least able to interact with small physical objects while in the Fade, a fact that was not a good sign for these tantrums. Or the potatoes.
“Say ‘no’ all you want, it’s not going to change anything.” Lucanis closed his eyes and took a long sip of his coffee. He expected another outburst, but it was suspiciously quiet the whole time. When he opened his eyes again, the demon was gone. A sigh of relief escaped him and he rubbed his temple with his free hand. “ Mierda… ”
Rook watched the fish swimming peacefully from the “windows” of his room. He wondered if they were real fish or just a projection of the memory of fish. Either way they were a pleasant distraction from his own thoughts. It had been embarrassing to sing in front of Taash and Harding, let alone Lucanis . Though, Lucanis didn’t remember it, so that was some small blessing.
Spite worried Rook, not just about it hurting Lucanis, but about the spirit itself. It was thrust into this situation against its will just like Lucanis was, and it barely seemed to understand the waking world around it. Without a gentle hand to guide it, it’s grown wild and unpredictable. If only Lucanis would let him talk to Spite. This was his specialty, after all! But he understood why the assassin had trepidations. Still… for one moment he felt a spark of a connection when he sang. If he could hold onto that, maybe he could help both human and spirit. If they couldn’t separate, they at least deserved peace together.
Rook closed his eyes, his thoughts still on Lucanis and Spite as he drifted into unconsciousness.
“This is unexpected.” An annoyingly familiar voice caught his attention.
The mage’s eyes opened and he found himself once again standing in that washed-out wasteland that housed the Dreadwolf. He frowned and crossed his arms. “I didn’t mean to come here.”
With that same smug expression as always, Solas raised an eyebrow. “Did you not? Your mind must have been burning with questions to bring you here on its own accord.”
He supposed that was true and shrugged. “Okay… I do have some questions, actually. About spirits.”
This caught the Dreadwolf’s attention, and he tilted his head slightly. “Oh?”
“Varric told me you were an expert on spirits.” He started, noting the slight flash of regret on the elf’s face at the mention of his old companion. “Is there a way to turn a demon back into the spirit it once was?”
This question actually gave Solas pause, and he hummed in thought. “In all my years I haven’t found a solution to that that doesn’t end in death. Once a spirit has been twisted from its original purpose, the only way to free it would be to end its misery and let it be reborn anew.”
“Varric said you and the Inquisitor did once, though. A spirit of Wisdom twisted into Pride by mages.”
A flash of anger shone in the Wolf’s eyes, and then… grief. He glanced away as he responded. “We did… briefly, but the Spirit’s form still faded after the battle was done. It would not remember our friendship in its new life, but at least it could be at peace again.”
Rook deflated with that news. He was studying this very thing in the Necropolis, wanting to see if his unique magic could do what other mages could not. To hear it was impossible from a mage so ancient he predated the Veil itself… was more than a bit disheartening. “One more question, then. Is it possible… to sever a possession without hurting either party?”
“You speak of your assassin and the demon inside him?” Solas asked with a knowing look.
Rook nodded. “If Spite and Lucanis were separated… well, maybe I could then work with Spite directly to help him. Even if I can’t turn him back to what he once was… I don’t know, I just want to help.”
“Your compassion for spirits is… refreshing.” Solas admitted, his expression softening. “If Lucanis had been a mage under normal possession, then yes I believe there would be a way to free them both. However, Spite was physically dragged out of the Fade and placed in a living body. There is no going back from that.”
Even more bad news, then. Rook sighed and ran both his hands through his hair. “Great, looks like it’s onto Plan C. Or… D… maybe E–I lost count.”
“And… what would that be?”
“Talk with them both and help them find common ground.” Rook answered in a determined tone. This was the plan now, and he was going to stick to it whether they liked it or not. “If they’re stuck together like this, they should both be able to find peace.”
“Find peace with a demon?” Solas prompted, though not in a tone that suggested he didn’t believe it was possible. More like, he was testing Rook’s resolve.
“In the Mourn Watch we don’t use that word. I may slip now and again from being away for so long, but in the Necropolis there are only spirits. Sometimes the spirits just need help finding themselves again.”
The Dreadwolf actually smiled. “If anyone could find a way, I believe you could.” He said as he and the scenery around them faded into white.