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The Lighthouse
Astaroth found Neve in the workshop after talking to Solas, hoping the detective had some leads.
“We can start with the Antivan Crows.” Neve put out her first suggestion.
“You want to fight the gods with assassins?” Astaroth tried to joke.
“Not just any assassin. Their most feared Mage-killer. The Demon of Vyrantium.”
“Working with a mage-killer doesn't bother you?”
“As long as he doesn't have a contract out on us, we're fine.” Neve joked, attempting to lighten the mood.
“You think a trained killer will like us?” Astaroth joked back.
“What's not to love?” Neve said with a wink. “The Demon got his name for taking out Venatori in Vyrantium. From everything I’ve heard the reputation is earned. I never uncovered his real name and there have been less stories in the last few years. But the Crows would know. I can set a meeting with their bosses.”
“Time to make new friends.”
“We’ll see if it works.”
***
The Ossuary
Watching the Demon of Vyrantium was a beautiful sight. The assassin’s grace made her breath catch, but it was the purple - black raven wings spread wide at his back that truely stole her breath. She subconsciously started to reach for the one closest to her, but stopped herself just short. To her surprise, the wing seemed to press into her outstretched hand of its own accord.
A shiver ran down Lucanis’ spine at the touch and he heard Spite purr in his head. The assassin turned to face his would be rescuer then. Two of them, it seemed, an Elf and a Dwarf. The former, judging from her still outstretched hand, was the one that had touched Spite’s wing. The latter seemed wary of him at best.
“Who are you?” He asked, clearly suspicious. “Who sent you?”
Astaroth felt a pang of disappointment as his wings folded back and disappeared behind him. She bowed slightly, her eyes never leaving his. “Call me Rook. This is Scout Harding.” She gestured to the Dwarf beside her. “Caterina sent us.”
“Caterina?” There was now a mix of relief and disbelief in his tone. “But…you’re no Crow.”
“And you’re possessed, but you don’t hear me complaining.”
That earned her a small smile and, apparently, a good once over before Lucanis looked down and away from her, as if suddenly shy. When he looked back up at her again, it was with a far more serious expression. “It’s complicated.”
Astaroth met his serious expression with one of her own. “She promised us a Mage-Killer if we broke you out of here.”
“I can still work.” He assured her.
“Good, because I’m pretty sure more Venatori are on the way. We need to get moving.” Astaroth said earnestly.
“They have a vial of my blood. They can use it to control me, I cannot leave it in their hands. And…I had a contract when I was captured. One of my targets is here. Calivan. Crows don’t break contracts.”
Right. Crows and their damned contracts. She wonders if they’ve even heard of the concept of self-preservation. However, she also knew enough about blood magic to know they wouldn’t be safe, demon or not, if they didn’t do anything about his vial of blood.
“You want a prison break, a blood heist, and assassination help, just to get you out of here?” Harding asked incredulously from behind Astaroth.
“I’ll owe you.” Lucanis deadpanned.
“I’m sure we’ll owe each other before this is all over. Besides, I’ll be damned if I let Venatori have control over the possessed assassin that will be helping us for however long this takes.”
“Good point,” Harding concedes,”But you could have left off the possessed part.”
Astaroth only smiled before turning towards the door leading out of the chamber. “Let’s go.”
The three of them fought through the blood mages and their red crystal barricades until they reached the room where Lucanis’ blood was stored. It was honestly more a bottle than a vial and impressively strong. Astaroth called lightning from her fingers to shatter the bottle before they continued the search for Calivan.
She thanked Spite every time he created a bridge for them to cross large gaps they couldn’t just jump across on their own.
She. Likes me. Says. Thank you.
Yes, Spite. I heard.
Then they found the torture room…
Death and pain lingered in the air here. It wasn’t just the bodies of Humans and Elves, but also evidence of the remains of spirits, littering the area. Astaroth’s hands tightened on her staff in quiet anger.
“All these people…tortured…sacrificed…The spirits…” Her voice broke. The visceral anger in it drew Spite out, fed his own anger, but the demon was also curious as he watched Rook’s hands twist on her staff, certain she would break it.
She turned to Lucanis, seeing past Spite and into the man’s eyes. “They will pay for what they’ve done here. Calivan and whoever else? We’ll make them pay.” Astaroth’s tone was eerily calm, sending a shiver down the spine of both mortal and demon.
Yes. She will help. We will follow.
Astaroth turned her eyes subtly in the general direction of Spite and if Lucanis noticed, he didn't say anything.
***
Lucanis and Spite stood over Calivan’s body. “The Crows send their regards.”
“Are we done?” Astaroth asked.
Smells like blood. Ashes. Not done. Not yet.
“Lucanis?” she could hear something faint, like her ears were under water. A faint purple shimmer in the spot where he was looking, but nothing solid she could make out.
Careful. They know. We're not. Right.
“You cannot see him. I wondered.”
“See him? No. We clearly have things to discuss. Somewhere else.”
“Agreed.”
When they returned to the boat, Spite stayed close to Rook, practically sitting in her lap from where Lucanis sat. The demon's fingers tracing the scars on her face. His own face mere inches from hers. Lucanis had never seen Spite so fascinated with another person before.
***
The Lighthouse
After changing out of their armor, Rook, Neve, Bellara, and Lucanis met up in the dining room of the Lighthouse. Harding had dipped out, deciding it was a conversation for the mages. Rook found them by the fireplace, Neve and Ballara sitting at the table across from where Lucanis stood, his arm resting on the mantel. But it was Spite who saw her first, his eyes tracing her form, mumbling descriptors only Lucanis can hear as the Mourn Watcher approaches.
Blue-black hair
Strange eyes…
Black sclera, bright purple irises….
Alabaster skin
Ample breasts
Wide hips
Lean muscle
Tall for an elf…
Lucanis had already seen her in the Ossuary, he didn't need Spite to remind him. She was strangely beautiful and he was trying not to look up at her, closing his eyes to block out Spite. It's not that the demon had actually been trying to entice him to look, it was more like he had been taking stock of her appearance.
“They're the same thing. Mostly. Kind of.” Bellara tried to explain spirits and demons.
“Except one will manipulate you. Or kill you. Or both.” Neve added.
“But how do you get rid of them?” Lucanis wanted to know.
“Umm…”
“What's everyone talking about?” Rook asked, leaning against her staff.
“Spite.”
“The demon in Lucanis. When a person gets possessed - the demon usually takes control.” Neve explained.
“And they turn into a monster. The spirit just… molds them. However they want.” Bellara added.
“I’ve heard of abominations being cured by killing the demon in the Fade. That's not a sure bet, though.”
“Well, there's one way. But it's, well…we’d have to um…” Bellara hesitated.
“You’d have to kill me.” Lucanis finished.
Rook shook her head. “No. Those can't be our only options. Spite was a victim too. If there's a ritual to force a possession, maybe there's one that can separate them safely. This place was home to a supposed Elvahn god. There has to be something in the library that can help.”
She doesn't want to hurt us. How sweet. He was suddenly next to Lucanis, a growl escaping his throat, his next words loud and demanding. I want to talk to her.
“Before we do, well, that…” Bellara began.
I want. To talk. To Rook!
“Then talk, spirit. You have my attention.”
There was a collective gasp around the room. Neve and Bellara jumped out of their chairs, backing away.
“What the…?!” Neve and Bellara exclaimed at the same time.
Lucanis' look of surprise was also, mixed with equal parts confusion and annoyance. “How?”...
Before them now stood a purple - black mockery of Lucanis' form, its glowing eyes now on Rook.
“The Fade does what the spirit wants, yes? Every educated mage knows this. But to actually witness it, how it all works…” Rook couldn't hide the curiosity from her tone if she tried.
“You. Want to talk? To me?” The demon was in front of her in the blink of an eye.
“That's not a good idea. Probably…”
“It could hurt you, Rook.” Neve warned
She reached up, cupping Spite's cheek in her free hand, unexpectedly solid, her fingernails scratching lightly against his beard. The demon seemed to enjoy the heat of her hand against him, closing his eyes and leaning into her touch.
“You won't hurt me. Will you?” Astaroth spoke softly to Spite.
“Maybe you shouldn't…” Bellara tried.
“Sounds like woodsmoke.” He inhales her scent, his nose close to her wrist. “Smells like strawberries…familiar.”
“Mierda, Spite! Can you not?!” Lucanis yelled, bringing the demon back to himself and pulling away from Rook. His eyes flashed and growled in frustration and vanished from sight.
***
Spite found her later after everyone else had retired to their rooms for the night. He had been overjoyed to discover he was not stuck by Lucanis' side here, allowing him to look for Rook. Spite knew he was still tethered to Lucanis in a way, still forced to deal with his mind prison. But Rook made it better. If only he could get his idiot mortal to listen. Yes, his idiot mortal. As antagonistic as their deal was, in the year they had been trapped together Spite felt something for Lucanis. Something the demon did not want to examine too closely.
Rook was bathing under a waterfall built into the stone wall, a pool around her. He watched her for a few minutes before sitting at the edge of the pool, revealing himself as he did.
“Like what you see?” She asked, smiling as if she already knew the answer.
“Pretty.” The word was strained, as if foreign to the person speaking. Maybe it was. Spite slipped into the pool, stalking towards her, strangely thrilled she stood her ground rather than trying to get away, watching him just as closely as he was watching her.
When he reached her, he practically pressed his body into hers, shoving his nose into the joint of her neck and shoulder, inhaling deeply, as if trying to make up for the interruption earlier. “Smells like Shroud's Kiss and freshly dug earth and frankincense and myrrh. So familiar.”
She tilted her head to give him better access and he licked a stripe up the column of her neck, as if that would give him any answers. …”Home”…
Rook grazed the bulge in his pants with the backs of her fingers, making Spite gasp. His eyes darkened, pulled away from her and looking down to where she had touched him. He let the armor he constantly wore melt away and closed the distance between them again. He reached out, curling his fingers under her chin, his thumb pressing lightly against her lower lip and dragging it across the soft flesh and wondered how she would look with smeared lipstick. To his surprise, she sucked his thumb into her mouth as she wrapped a warm hand around his hard length, making him hiss in pleasure.
Astaroth released his thumb with a wet pop and dropped to her knees before him, her hand squeezed lightly around him and brought her face close to his cock, giving the tip an experimental lick. Spite's head fell, a groan passed from his lips as he leaned forward, bracing himself on the wall above her. His other hand fisted in her long hair as he tried to keep his eyes open, watching her.
“Rook”... She couldn't tell if her name was a warning or a plea. Her lips wrapped around the head of his cock, tongue swirling around it. Mouth and hand work in tandem as she slowly takes him further in. Spite isn't quiet in his pleasure, moaning loudly as he tugged at her hair, beginning to thrust his hips. Rook gripped his hip with her other hand to keep him from thrusting too deep or too hard.
“Rook. Beautiful Rook. Mouth. Hot. Feels. So good. Around my cock. Want to. Cum in that mouth. Want to. Touch. Taste. Fuck. Mark. Ruin your pretty makeup. Ruin your pretty little… Fuck!”
She took him to the back of her throat and hummed around him, hollowing out her cheeks as her head bobbed up and down his length. She began rubbing her thighs together to get some friction. She learned some time ago that she loved it when her lovers told her exactly what they wanted her to do. Even better when they told her what they wanted to do to her. It wasn't long before Spite felt something like an electric charge starting at the base of his spine as his balls drew up and liquid lightning shot through his cock.
Astaroth’s eyes widen in shock, not expecting the thick, sticky liquid that fills her mouth. It tasted oddly, like she imagined static would. Since when did spirits produce cum outside a possessed body? Spite even looked surprised, but recovered quickly.
“My turn,” he said with a smirk and bent to help her up. However, when he reached out to take her hand, he noticed his arm losing its solidity. He growled in frustration, trying to grip her hand anyway and watching as his hand passed right through hers without effect. “No! Not. Yet!” He yelled before disappearing completely.