LadyLiesmith

Day 5 of Spite Week! Agreement/Contract.

"This is why my contract negotiator was unavailable yesterday?" Lucanis asks, arching a brow at Rook. He had been frustrated when he had been told as such, and wasn't quite sure if he was more or less annoyed by it now that he knew what it was he was busy doing.

Spite was peering over Lucanis' shoulder, poking at the envelope in his hands, trying to grab at it even when he knew he couldn't take it from him.

MINE. Has MY name. Want to See. OPEN IT.

Lucanis, of course, does not hand it over to thin air, and does not give him any sort of response as he waits for a reply from the de Riva who just handed it over to him with a smirk on her lips.

"You did say you would lend him to me. After I teased you about offering him to Bellara before another Crow." Of course Rook was right, Spite remembers.

You did. You said. Now GIVE!

"I didn't quite have this in mind, though. It is a contract?" He asks, still ignoring Spite. Spite growls in frustration and pulls at the side of Lucanis' cape, which gets him a reaction at least. It is just a glare, but it's better than being ignored.

"Of course it is. You know what a contract from House de Riva looks like, Lucanis. It's not the first you've come across, I'm sure."

"And it is for Spite?" He asks, finally.

"I don't see your name on the envelope, do you?" She responds, arching a brow at him as she puts more weight on her left hip.

"And how exactly will that work?"

Rook rolls her eyes at the question, it was silly but of course she humoured him. "Obviously you both go. There's a clause in there regarding your participation and your compensation for it. But Spite's skill set is what this contract needs. It seems unfair for you to get paid every time and he not even get a mention for his contributions, no?" It's aggravating Lucanis, how she's got a point that he hadn't truly considered. But that emotion is slightly overpowered by Spite's happiness and smugness over the whole thing.

"You've really thought this through, hm?" He questions, glancing back to the paper. He'll need to reorganise his schedule, of course, but he didn't doubt that Rook had accounted for that in the expected time frames. "What purpose does Spite have for gold, anyway?" He asks, and Spite replies before thinking.

SHINY. Buy Gifts. Use… He pauses then, because he didn't need gold. Lucanis had gold to do all of those things. And Lucanis, the infuriating thing that he is, smirks a little in his direction.

"You haven't even seen the contract, Lucanis. Who said anything about payment in gold?" She smirks right back, folding her arms over her chest. "Read it and send word when you both come to a decision. Offer is there for 24 hours before I'll reassign."

House de Riva requests the services of Spite - and by way of connection Lucanis Dellamorte - to complete the following contract.

Lucanis had let Spite take the reigns to open his first official contract, and he rocked on the balls of his feet as he read it. His name. His name first. Lucanis a secondary. It sent a thrill over his skin, somehow making his happiness and smugness blend together into a wholly unnameable feeling.

It has been brought to our attention that there is incriminating documentation regarding one of our clients in an almost inaccessible location. We are aware of our limitations, and have decided that the most efficient course of action will require the skill set that you, Spite, possess. The traditional entrance to the location, see the attached map and directions, would be inadvisable and would risk detection. We believe that there may be a construct in the fade of which to pull upon to allow direct access. We are also to believe that the documentation is written on a very specific paper, with ink that will be detectable with impeccable olfactory ability. Some examples have been attached.

Spite grinned. Smell and fade. Easy.

If you are to accept this contract, payment will consist of willingly given dreams and/or nightmares for your consumption for a total of four nights, a total of seven hours (to be taken in increments when schedules align for all three parties) with Rook de Riva to fill with preferred activities (i.e. Reading, Sparring, Conversing) and consent to walk among her dreams if you so please for the following two weeks (extendable via discussion).

For the participation of Lucanis Dellamorte, compensation of the usual daily rate is offered. On discussion with the negotiator, we believe this will be satisfactory. There is room for additional negotiation.

Payment will be received in full once the contract is complete. Accepting the contract is accepting death as forfeit.

Lucanis laughed softly at him, at the contract. At the ridiculous payment for a demon, and the offer of negotiating for more than his usual rate which was - especially as First Talon - extortionate.

Tell her. YES. We tell her. We accept.

"I suppose you ought to sign your name on the bottom line, then." Lucanis told him, fond and amused that Rook had done all of this, just to retrieve some paperwork. The woman would never cease to surprise him, he was sure. And Spite was thrilled. He wasn't sure he'd seen the demon this happy in quite some time.

Spite took control of his hand, tongue resting on his lower lip as he picked up the quill on Lucanis' desk - their desk - and scrawled his name at the bottom of the contract. Not the looping script that Lucanis himself had, but still perfectly legible. He'd practiced since his first attempt of writing.

"I will send word to her now. I suppose you ought to start thinking about how you plan to do this." Lucanis tells him, and Spite straightens where he had moved to the right of their shared body.

Spite had to think? He supposed Lucanis would do some reconnaissance. Go and observe the building. Rook would too, although not for as long as Lucanis. She was more prone to rushing in. Like Spite. But this was his first contract. He wanted to do it properly. Wanted it to be perfect.

It was the most peace and quiet that Lucanis had for weeks.

Day 4 of Spite Week! Curiosity/Compassion.

Compassion. Noun; A strong feeling of sympathy and sadness for the suffering or bad luck of others and a wish to help them.

By definition, Spite should not act outside of the perimeters of his namesake. Most demons didn't, and never would. Spite manifested out of anger, vengeance, a desire to make others hurt, make them pay, to survive at all costs. He was good at pain, at hurting others, at fuelling Lucanis' desires for bloodshed and revenge.

Feeling pain, however? That was not something Spite was accustomed to. Nor was it something he wanted to feel. The hollow ache in Lucanis' chest that feels deeper than the darkest holes of the fade. A rising dread in his stomach as each hour, each day passes without Rook, without an answer to if she is even alive. It was a pain far worse than anything he had endured with Lucanis in the Ossuary.

The sad hiss of Curiosity as it walks into the kitchen to make some tea. The drooping ears of Assan. Spite likes Curiosity and Assan, and he can taste the same sour despair on them as he can Lucanis. It taints the entire Lighthouse, every member feeling it in some way or another. And for once Spite wishes that he could relieve pain instead of causing it. Because Spite feels it too. The cold sensation that reaches to the very tips of his wings, the sharp sting of fear and emotion behind his shared eyes, the tightness in his throat when he tries to speak.

Lucanis struggles to sleep, but he lets himself try. He trusts Spite more, and most of that is Rooks influence. Her assurances that they needed to work together, that Spite and him were more than just each other. Spite hasn't wandered with Lucanis' body with a desire to escape for quite some time. Since he'd pulled Rook into the Mind Ossuary, at least. In fact, if he wanders, it's to find Rook. But that… was impossible now. Even Spite couldn't reach the depths of the fade she had disappeared to. Still, he had to be able to do something.

Controlling Lucanis' body was easier, now. He didn't need to pause to check that he could move without falling or bumping into things. He simply rose from the cot and headed to Rook's bedroom. He remembers sitting with her, watching the fish and talking about home and his heart aches. He finds one of her necklaces on a dresser and he takes it, places it around Lucanis' neck and lets it fall over his heart. She wouldn't mind, and he would give it back when (if) they got her back. Then he takes one of the pillows from the chaise and leaves.

The pillow ends up in Assan's bed. And Curiosity finds some of Rooks favourite tea at his little station that Lucanis and Emmrich set up for him when he made a mess of the kitchen trying to make some tea. She preferred coffee, but there was a certain blend she loved for an evening drink.

When everyone gathered for breakfast the next morning, there were a few sleepy, questioning looks. Spite had been quiet - not too out of place at the moment with everything that had happened, but it meant that Lucanis hadn't suspected anything yet.

"Do you think it could be the wisps?" Bellara's voice rang out as Lucanis was brewing his coffee.

"So far they have only moved Neve's things, and it's mostly out of mischief. This seems… specific." Emmrich replied, sounding perplexed. Still, the necromancer looked Spite and Lucanis' way. "Lucanis, I don't suppose you woke up to anything… out of place, today? It seems most of us were… surprised with gifts, this morning." He asked, and tipped his head ever so slightly to the side as if listening out for Spite.

Spite, from his position to the left of Lucanis, watched as the Crow's brows pulled together slightly as he registered the words.

"I don't think so…?" He replies, slowly, but then another voice joins the conversation.

"That Rook's necklace?" Taash asks, breezing past him to grab an apple.

Lucanis looks down, and it takes him only a moment to look at Spite. What did you do? He asked, just for them. Spite at least looked a little soft around the edges as he shrugged. Everyone is sad. Spite points out, and Emmrich looks in the direction of his voice, face coloured with surprise.

"This is your doing, Spite?" He asks, sounding as surprised as he looked, but also incredibly pleased with the progress the demon seemed to be making.

"The demon left some spiced apple chips outside my room?" Taash asked, just as surprised, and Spite crossed his arms over his chest.

I don't like IT. Everyone sad. Spite can't FIND Rook. Miss Rook. Can't do ANYTHING. But this. Rook would find a way to help. Spite… helps?

At first he was defensive, because everyone was shocked, but no one tasted of the same despair, the hopelessness that they had the days before. It was still there, of course, he couldn't take it all away, but it was less. But by the end of his words, he was uncertain.

Something loosens, in Lucanis' chest, and Spite can feel it. A little pity, and care. For him?

Emmrich looks at him with the same sort of sympathy.

"It would seem so, Taash. We all miss Rook, very much. Spite…" He pauses, looking in the direction of the voice he'd heard, a questioning look on his face as if to ask if he could repeat his words. Lucanis nods. "Wanted to help us feel less sad. Like Rook would."

"Definitely worked for Assan. Found him curled up with this this morning, and now he won't leave it behind." Davrin spoke as the doors to the kitchen closed behind him, Assan walking in front of him with Rook's pillow held gently in his beak. He chirps as best he can, finding a spot by the fire. "Never thought I'd say this, but I'm a little grateful for your demon, Lucanis. First time in days I've woken up Assan not looking at me with those big hurt eyes. Plus some wood. It'll be good for my carvings." He explained. Of course he already had wood, but it was the thought that counted, and Spite only had what was in the lighthouse to work with.

"There was a sandwich left outside my door, too. It's the first night without any bad dreams, too." Harding spoke, voice soft. She'd been one of the most vocal about being against the demon residing in Lucanis, but even she had to admit he had come a long way. And maybe she had been too hasty in her judgements - After all, Cole hadn't been too bad.

Spite kept quiet about the dreams.

Ham and jam. Disgusting. Never try it.

Lucanis winced at the knowledge that Spite had attempted to eat one of Harding's favourites, and had no intention of trying it while he was conscious. At least it hadn't left an odd taste in his mouth, not like the morning he'd woken up with the overpowering taste of onions.

"It's all very compassionate of you Spite. And we appreciate it." Emmrich told him, and Spite gave a groan.

Blergh. Compassion. He bit out, the distaste clear in his voice. It wasn't the first time he'd made his thoughts on that Spirit known. But even he would struggle to deny that his actions were born of it. Kindness would have been less annoying. Determination. To make things. Easier. He countered, knowing that it wasn't quite right, but hoping that the Necromancer would settle for this as his admission.

"If you prefer. Regardless, we are all grateful, Spite. And we will find Rook." He said, a new hope stirred in him. The rest of the team seemed equally bolstered - because if a demon of Spite could show Compassion, wasn't anything possible?

Day 2 of Spite Week! Fade/Home

It had always been strange, piloting Lucanis' body when he was asleep. When they shared it during battles and fights, they moved in sync - one boosting the other. When he tore control from him to speak, he was cut off from other parts of the body most of the time. But like this? Like this he could walk. He might not have his own feet, but he supposed the necromancer was correct - He had a pair to share.

He didn't have an immediate destination in mind, this time. But he found himself restless, and while he no longer attempted to escape with his host, he didn't want to simply lay on the cot in the pantry.

Rook, the one that smelled like brimstone and the Warden had left the Lighthouse earlier that day. Some quest or another had pulled their attentions. The detective and the tinkerer were busy together in the room with the Archive spirit, looking over papers and research that held no interest at all for Spite. And the Necromancer with his spirit of Curiosity were currently back in the Necropolis to retrieve a book that had been left behind. So it was only the dwarf that he had to be careful of, he couldn't let her catch him - again. Lucanis had finally been tired enough to fall asleep, and she would definitely not believe him if he told her he wasn't trying to leave the Lighthouse, just the pantry.

The pantry that was home, for now. A home in the Fade, but not his Fade.

Home.

It was a strange concept. One that Spite hadn't ever had to ponder over until he'd been ripped from his. But even then, the Fade wasn't the same as a home exactly. Not by Lucanis' definition. It wasn't four walls, a bed and a kitchen. It wasn't his, it just was. Sometimes he missed it.

Home to Lucanis came with a multitude of emotions. Feelings of nostalgia, of despair, of pain. Of love, fondness. Fear that lingered. It was a complex thing, and it made Spite miss the simplicity of the Fade. Not this Fade, with wisps that did as they pleased and rooms that appeared and disappeared, with a caretaker and walls that remembered.

The Fade where Spite had been used to let him drift. To just exist and peer occasionally through the thin spots of the Veil and feel the Determination of creatures beyond his reach but under his influence. It had been peaceful, and he'd had no desire to leave. Unlike some of his kind, he had never yearned to escape, to take a host and experience a world that did not listen. A world that was unyielding, that did not create as needed. A world that suffered.

The Ossuary, he had been told by Lucanis in the early days of their joining, was not his home. It was a prison, and that was not the same thing. Even if it was where he lived, where he slept and starved and hurt. Lucanis had tried to remember his home, then. Partially for his own sake and partially for Spites. And while there were faces that he cared for in those conjured memories, he still slept, and starved and hurt in his actual home. The only difference was the lavish decor and the stars above in place of endless water. It made it hard for Spite to truly understand the difference back then.

Now, his home was these walls. Spite took a moment to look around at the piles of food, at the tea set that Rook had gifted Lucanis. Though there had been no gift for Spite. He looked at the feeble excuse for a bed that was only a step up for Spite because before it they had slept on the floor.

He willed Lucanis' legs to move, and for once they did as they were told. He tried to move as silently as Lucanis did himself, in the hopes of not getting caught, and somehow he managed it. All the way to the room that Rook called her home here. Spite hesitated for only a moment outside of her door. Privacy. A word that both Lucanis and Emmrich had tried to tach him lingered at the edges of his hands. But Rook was not there, and he wanted to see, so he did. He walked inside, and flinched.

For a moment he had been ripped away from the safety and comfort of a space to the Ossuary, the water, the creatures, the distorted light that filled the room. Spite had frozen, and then reassessed for threats. Thankfully there were none, because the light was different. Darker. There were walls here too, not ancient and crumbling, but sturdy. Decorated a little like he had seen in Lucanis' memory, in the Cantori Diamond, too. Crow motif's on the walls and trinkets dotted around on every available surface. A coffee pot, a mirror, something that spun. There were plenty of things.

A bed, however, was missing. Spite was beginning to wonder if such a thing existed, or if it was a figment of imagination in Lucanis' mind and a mythical creation in the books that Lucanis read. At least there was something that looked soft to lay on, and he walked over to it, running his hosts fingers along the green velvet. Soft one way, less so on the other.

It was easy enough to picture Rook here, reading or sleeping. But he wondered if this counted as home to her. Lucanis seemed undecided if the pantry was home to him.

"Lucanis?"

So caught up in his thoughts, Spite jumps. Turning around quickly to see Rook in the doorway. Curiosity had taken such a hold on him that he hadn't even realised she was there, which was a first. If she was surprised to see Spite, she didn't let it show, her lips curling just slightly in confusion that he was sure had been there before he'd turned around, given the tone of voice she'd used.

"Spite." She corrected herself, stepping into the room and letting the door close behind her. "Is everything alright?"

Not afraid.

Spite liked that Rook was not afraid of him. So far, she had only been afraid at the thought of Spite hurting Lucanis. But if he did that, where would Spite go? At first it was just to try and get his way, he had no intention of attempting to pilot an empty body.

"Everything is. Fine." Spite responds, but he pauses and briefly looks back to the water. "Is this. Rooks… Home?" He asks, and something in Rook's expression softens as his eyes land back on her. She looks tired, he notes, and she walks around to sit on the soft thing, taking of her boots with a thoughtful hum.

"I suppose it is, for now. Temporarily."

Something shifts in Spite's knowledge, then. His understanding evolving.

"Home can be. Temporary?" He asks, perking up a little as he looks back at her with interest.

Rook nods, placing her boots to the side. "It can. Some people have no home, some have many all at once, and some jump from place to place."

Interesting. Sometimes Lucanis thought of a smaller home, somewhere in Treviso, but he didn't really speak of it. Perhaps that was one of his many. Spite hovers for a moment, before glancing at the space beside where Rook was sitting.

"Can Spite. Sit? I want to hear. Learn. About home." Rooks expression had softened before, and now it seemed as if that softness was here to stay. Tired eyes look at him fondly, and she nods.

"Yes you can. Thank you, for asking." Rook answers, acknowledging his progress in asking before doing. Sometimes. "Perhaps next time, maybe ask before entering my room too, hm?" She adds, and Spite at least has the decency to look sheepish as he nods.

"Wanted to see. See Rooks. Home." Spite tries to explain, although he knew that he shouldn't have been in here without her permission. That was why he had hesitated at the door. "Nicer than the pantry." He grumbles, and Rook laughs. It's a sound that both he and Lucanis enjoyed very much. Although he was slightly less fond of it when it seemed to be at his expense.

"I'm inclined to agree." She chuckles. "Give me a minute to get changed, and I'll be back. Alright?" She adds, patting Lucanis' - Spite's - shoulder as she stands and walks over towards a door he hadn't even noticed, picking up a handful of clothes on her way. He wondered if the door had always been there, for him not to have noticed it. Lucanis would have noticed. He grumbles to himself, considering the Crow's habit to find every entrance and exit in a room.

Luckily Rook didn't take too long, Spite finding himself just looking into the glass in front of him. Into the fade and at the creatures behind it. Jealousy picked at his edges. They could do what he used to be able to do. What he couldn't do anymore now that he was tied. She found him like that, glowing eyes trained on a particular fish that changed its fins each time it turned - a successful choice to catch the water differently each time.

"I take it Lucanis is asleep?" Rook asks gently as she comes out, hair smoother and dressed in softer clothes. She smelled like Arlathan, and tired. But Spite was Curious.

"Yes. He is okay. I got bored. Laying with ONIONS." Spite scowls, another laugh leaving Rook as she sat at his side once more.

"I can understand that. And you came only here?"

Spite nods, and Rook matches it with a small one of her own. Checking to see if he got into any trouble, it seemed. At least she didn't seem to mind that he came here.

"Good. Let him rest, Maker knows he needs it. We all do." She murmurs with a soft sigh, shifting to make herself a little more comfortable. "I can try and answer questions about home, but I may fall asleep myself. If that happens, please let me sleep, okay?" Spite nods and promises to let her rest. She was tired, and he knew he should let her sleep now, but he… was selfish, too. He wanted her knowledge, her time, and time was a precious thing around here. He'd take any stolen moments he could. "What is it about home that you're curious about?"

"Home." Spite says, although it's not truly an answer. "Lucanis is contradictory. Home we read about is different. Comforting. The way that Harding speaks of. But Lucanis' is torn. Comfort and pain. Hurt and love. Not the Ossuary. A Villa. An apartment. All with walls, with rooms. Does a home need those?" His words have ran away with him, but as always, Rook seems to have kept up.

To her credit, she tilts her head and takes a moment to think about it. She's never had to before, not about what truly makes a home. Did it really need walls? Or could it be a place, a concept? She counted Treviso as a home, she supposed. The canals, the markets, the rooftops and hiding spots she'd frequented over the years.

"No, I don't suppose it does." She muses, looking at Lucanis' face with the demons glowing eyes. "Treviso is home to me. So is Salle. Those have many walls, but none that simply contain them. I think the concept of home could be just that. A knowledge that it just… is. A feeling of home over the intricacies of its architecture." That's when she pauses, and asks in a gentler voice, "Do you miss yours?"

Spite hesitates once more as he thinks about his answer this time.

"I think sometimes." He decides, leaning back against the softness of the chaise. "I miss some aspects. More. I miss being free. To move as I wish. I miss things. The way they were because that was how I wanted them." But that life was no longer his. He found that dwelling on it now was painful, not a pleasant experience, a dull ache in his chest.

"Tell me about it?" She asked, and despite the less than desirable emotions he's feeling he does.

He tells her of the hues of purple. The lights, wisps that floated and some that swept in arches between floating islands filled with all sorts of constructs. Of diamonds, coal so determined to persevere that it changed entirely. Flowers that only bloomed in the most extreme conditions, their determination to stay alive causing them to bloom for him. The taste of electricity in the air, the way that he could fly whenever he so pleased. How much he missed flying and a form that could change on a whim.

Somewhere along the way, Rook drifted off. Her breaths evening until sleep took her as it had Lucanis, her head falling onto his shoulder before the rest of her slumped against him. He kept his word, and kept speaking fondly of his home, quietly, just in case the silence woke her up. He let her rest, and let himself mourn what he'd lost, for the first time since he'd been pulled here.

Eventually, Spite decided that if home was a concept then he could understand it. What was described in the books that Lucanis read, in the wistful sigh that Lace gave, the excitement that Bellara spoke of, the quiet respect and longing that Neve had. The safety, the fondness. All of these things fit alongside something for Spite, for one thing, one person.

Rook.

Rook had become home to Spite. Wherever she was, he decided he could count as home. And if it came with a mismatched family that didn't always get along? Well, then it was more like a home than Spite had ever experienced before.

** Divider credit goes to @dread-red-queen! As does the joy of Spite week! **

This is my entry for Day 1 of Spite week! Prompt: Candles/Scent! Also available to read on AO3!

Spite was learning many things from his union with Lucanis.

Most of it was useless.

He didn't need to learn how to kill with 'flair' or how to brew coffee. Emotions were the hardest for him to grasp. He knew Spite. And he knew Determination, somewhere far in the back of his consciousness, a remnant of what used to be.

But he was learning.

Curiosity had feet, fire and seemed to be infectious. Because Spite was now Curious about things he hadn't cared about before. Why do onions make Lucanis cry when the Ossuary hadn't? When is it 'appropriate' to comment on someones scent? (Spite thinks that there's a word for when Taash does it and tells him he can't, a word that isn't unfair but close. He hasn't found that word yet.) What do candles taste like? They burn with a fire that's similar and different to the fire that Curiosity has, and many of them look like they would be both hard and soft. He wonders what they taste like, whether the texture is like the butter that Lucanis often cooks with. A lot of them look like butter.

But both Lucanis and Emmrich had told him no.

Apparently candles are not for eating.

How is it that they can look like butter, do not have an unpleasant smell and they are not for eating yet the foul smelling, lumpy things on Lucanis' plate when the dwarf that smells like dirt and herbs cooks are.

Spite would rather try his luck with the candles.

He's currently perched on the table in the kitchen while Lucanis reads and tries to ignore him. Again. Much to his hosts irritation, it's hard to scold the demon for sitting where food is consumed, considering said demon doesn't truly have a form to sully the surface with. It's an irritation that Spite finds great enjoyment out of, especially when Lucanis refuses to read to him and is hell bent on ignoring his existence. Spite's focus drifts between thoughts for a little while, but is pulled back to the kitchen when the door opens.

Rook!

Of course the Crow already noted that, given the open door and the need to be aware of his surroundings, but if Spite had not been attempting to drift comfortably, he would have noticed first. Lucanis was almost as perceptive as him when it came to their leader, however his human sense of smell often held him back. Rain and dust, lavender and lightning. Sparkling, bright. She smelt like she would taste good too.

That thought, as it always did, had Lucanis clearing his throat and willing back the pink that often rose to his cheeks when they were alone and Spite let this particular brand of thoughts run wild.

Spite enjoyed getting reactions from Lucanis, but that was one of his favourites.

He enjoyed it enough that it took him a moment longer to realise that Rook has something in her hands. A tray. With… candles?

Spite is immediately close to the other Crow, peering over her shoulder and sniffing at the tray in her hands. Why. Does she bring… Candles? Spite had never seen her carry candles before. Had never seen anyone replenish the ones that were dotted around the lighthouse. He assumed that much like the rooms, the Lighthouse itself just replaced them as necessary. And the ones in the kitchen at the moment still had plenty of burn time left in them.

Lucanis himself just looks over at her in mild Curiosity, closing his book and resting his elbows on his thighs as he leans forward. "Spite is asking why you are carrying candles. I find I too am wondering the answer to that question." He relays Spites question, and Spite leans in even closer to Rook. These candles smell different to the other ones. These ones smell… sweet? Almost like the hot drink that Bellara likes.

"Spite, wanna take a step back, buddy?" She speaks, and he moves instantly. Much to his delight, Rook had started to be able to tell when Spite was close. Something about their magic being similar, Emmrich and her had spoken about it, but Spite had been too busy touching her hair to listen. Lucanis had not been happy with him that day. "Thank you." Rook says with a smile, moving to place the candles onto the kitchen table before turning to grin at Lucanis.

Smells like sugar. Pride. Playful. Mischief.

"I remembered the conversation at Blackthorn Manor, between you, Spite and Emmrich. And I think I found a solution to your candle problem." Rook tells him, motioning to the unlit candles behind her. There were two, both small, perhaps three inches tall, and slim. "You think Spite will stop trying to convince you to eat every candle if we allow him to eat these two?" She asks, still grinning, and Spite fills with glee.

Can EAT? He asks, looking directly at Lucanis for guidance, before back at the candles, stepping in close to get a better look at them.

"Rook, you realise we have been trying to explain that candles are not for eating, yes?" He asks dryly. Still, he stands and walks over to the table to inspect the candles himself.

"Candles are not for eating. Apart from these two very special candles that I have procured just for Spite." Rook says, her hands lifting to rest on her hips. Lucanis can see a little of the pride that Spite could smell, then.

"Procured, hm?" Lucanis enquires, looking back at the de Riva.

"Perhaps I had a hand in their creation." He arches a brow again, well aware that while her talents were many, none of them seemed to lie in a kitchen. "I promise they're edible. They're even two different types!"

Excited. Proud. Wants to make. US happy.

You, happy. It would seem. Lucanis thinks.

I want to talk. To Rook! To ask. To thank. Can I? Eat. Too.

"I do hope you know what you're doing." Lucanis muses with a fond smile and a shake of his head. The reigns are his, then, and in two blinks the browns of Lucanis' eyes flare purple, and Spite leans forwards to sniff with both his and Lucanis' senses.

"I can EAT these? Why?" He asks first, poking at one of the two. It feels a little like a candle. Although Lucanis hadn't let him close enough to touch many in fears of eating it.

"I already said. They're special. Made of special ingredients. Go ahead, but you have to promise not to try and eat any other candles, and to stop pestering Lucanis to do so. Okay?" Rook asks, levelling him with a stern look on her face.

Spite is nodding almost immediately. "Yes! Spite promises."

The candles are different to one another. One is softer than the other when he bites into it. Both are sweet, too sweet, and to his surprise he finds he cannot finish either.

Candles, he decides, are not as tasty as he had thought they would be.

But it was now something he no longer had to be Curious about.

"You really made candles out of chocolate, and sugar?" Lucanis asks, amusement colouring his tone later that evening while they sit and read together, Rook's legs draped over his lap. It's a moment that Spite had allowed them alone, and he chuckles as Rook beams at him and nods.

"White chocolate, yes. And fondant icing. I know that you like sweet things, but in moderation. I had hoped that he would lean that way too, and this would sate his curiosity without actually making you eat wax."