Dragon Age Kiss Week

The incarnation of the classical meme

[Prompt by @dragonagekissweek go check them out!]

Very happy with how this one turned out! 💖 I love seeing my boy in dusty sunlight, it's where he looks best 🥰

Anyways! Here we have my boy T'hy'la (or Thy, for short) and his biggest most hopeless crush, Mr. Cullen Rutherford.

I go back and forth between letting these two actually get their romance 😂 It's genuinely one of my favourite romaces in the game and I think it's extra funny (and dramatic/tragic) doing this romance with Thy, since he's also my Warden Mahariel and Cullen is his number one fanboy. It's such juicy content, I have so much writing stowed away in my drafts about these idiots and their flustered pining between all the veteran bonding and hurt/comfort content.

But yes, anyways, in the meantime! Thy will continue stealing smooches like the hopeless romantic he actually is.

Over the past couple of years, he'd gotten much better at navigating the Crows' network of rooftop pathways without either getting lost or feeling like he was one wrong step away from drowning in a canal. He was confident on the paths he traversed most often, at least. A handful of locations throughout the city that had become favored haunts now that it wasn't crawling with Antaam and Venatori. It was safe to walk the streets now. But this way was faster.

 Especially if he didn't want certain people to know he was here.

The walls of Villa Dellamorte were as intimidating as the first time he'd seen them. High and topped with wrought iron that was both decorative and defensive. Impossible to scale from the ground, and harder still to get over without being spotted by any of the Crow guards that patrolled the estate. Thankfully, Rori knew where the neighboring buildings loomed close enough to leap from roof to roof. And that one zip line, but it tended to be watched more carefully. 

There was, of course, the secret passage up from the canals. But because it let into the basement he would have to make his way through the Villa's maze of entirely-too-fancy halls, which always made him feel small and inadequate. Not to mention the risk of running into either of the two residents he absolutely did not want to see.

Better for everyone if he came in from above.

The leap from a neighboring rooftop was far, but Rori hadn't missed it yet, even when a recent rain made the shingles dangerously slick under his feet. He caught himself on a windowsill and took a moment to steady himself - and to listen for anyone who might have heard his ungraceful landing - before continuing on his way. 

The sun was only just dipping below the horizon, painting the city in red-gold light and throwing long shadows across the roof tiles. Rori stuck to those as much as possible as he made his way toward a familiar window. There was a balcony further down the building from his ultimate destination. Connected to a dining hall, maybe. Or one of innumerable sitting rooms. Too many rooms to bother keeping track of. More importantly, it was the easiest place to get down from the roof, and from there Rori could make his careful way from windowsill to windowsill. 

The window was latched, which was to be expected of a house full of paranoid assassins. What wasn't usual was the curtains blocking Rori's view inside. How was he supposed to tell whether his quarry was here or not if the curtains were closed? Well, maybe today he'd be lucky.

----------

Rook! Spite's voice echoed suddenly in Lucanis' head, startling him so badly he almost didn't hear the knock on the window moments later. Rook is here! 

The demon tugged at him. An uncomfortable tension in his muscles that Lucanis was far too used to feeling these days. But at least his demon no longer forced control of their shared body. Only did this to make a point. It continued while Lucanis hurried to put down his quill and pushed back his chair, but then quickened his steps like a wind pushing him along on his way toward the window.

As soon as he pulled back the curtains, he saw Rori - clinging to the decorative stonework and grinning at him -  and hurried to unlatch the window to let him in. The elf barely waited for the window to open fully before falling into him, arms around Lucanis' shoulders and cheek pressed against his. 

The first time Rori greeted him like this. Coming in the window to drape boneless over him, Lucanis had nearly panicked, thinking him injured or otherwise debilitated. Now that he knew it for the dramatics it was, he merely wrapped his arms around Rori's waist and hauled him the rest of the way into the room. "I still have a perfectly good front door," he said for the umpteenth time.

"But where's the fun in that?" There was a smile in Rori's voice as he got his feet under himself again and pressed his lips to Lucanis' cheek, which had Spite practically purring in the back of his mind and urging Lucanis to turn his head the fraction of an inch it would take to press his nose into Rori's hair. An urge he may have given in to, but Rori pulled back so they were face to face and the moment passed. "Teia says you need a break."

Although Lucanis wouldn't put it past her to call in Rori if she believed that to be true, he suspected that wasn't the case today. Rori did not need an excuse to come interrupt his work. Especially not when Lucanis had been in Minrathous less than a week ago. "She always says that."

"And she's always right," Rori declared, taking Lucanis' face between his hands. "Spite agrees with me."

Yes!

"No."

"Oh, come on," Rori whined, but his attempt at pouting was foiled by the fact he couldn't quite keep the corners of his mouth from turning up. "I'm sure whatever boring paperwork you have can wait until morning," he reasoned. Briefly, his eyes darted past Lucanis to take in the rest of the room - desk littered with correspondence from the other houses and contracts requiring the First Talon's approval. "You haven't eaten yet?" An observation more than a question. And Rori did not wait for an answer before kissing Lucanis soundly. "Have dinner with me," murmured against his lips.

When asked like that, Lucanis did not have the willpower to refuse. He could only follow as Rori pulled him back toward the open window.

----------

It was a quick jaunt through the gardens and across the canal to the nearest market, where Rori had once attempted to convince him that street food was a perfectly good substitute for dinner - "I didn't pull you away from work to make you do more work." - but now helped Lucanis carry groceries without complaint. 

Cooking was not work. Not when he was doing it for people he cared about. Especially not when doing it for Rori.

Maker knew, if left to his own devices, Rori's eating habits were only slightly better than Neve's.

The apartment was only a couple of streets away. Picked for its proximity to both the market and the villa, and for its size. Lucanis was well aware of Rori's aversion to the villa, though he didn't fully understand it. Still hoped that he would have a change of heart one day. But even he had to admit that it was nice to get away from time to time. To have somewhere free from reminders of his position and the duties that went along with it. Because this was not a First Talon's residence. A sparsely furnished single bedroom, simple kitchen, and a balcony overlooking the canals where morning smelled like coffee and the fresh bread from the bakery down the street. A place not connected to the Crows or his family. Just his. Theirs.

Rori set down his armful of groceries and went immediately to throw open the curtains and balcony doors to let in the evening air, perfumed with sea salt and that blooming vine that clung to the balcony railing. Spite followed him out there, despite Rori's inability to see or hear him, and Lucanis watched out of the corner of his eye as the demon flitted around him. 

"How can I help?" the elf asked when he returned to the kitchen, oblivious to Spite's attentions. So Lucanis put him to work.

Dinner was a simple affair by Antivan standards. Fish and roasted vegetables and bread from that bakery down the road (and a little fruit tart for Rori's sweet tooth). While they cooked and ate and washed up, they chatted about the goings on the goings on in each of their lives. But only the unimportant things. A new singer at the Cobbled Swan, the twist ending of that serial, the latest escapades of Rori's collection of feral cats (as dramatic as any serial and a particular delight for Spite).