Chapter Text
Lucanis is unsure of where the fixation began. Of course he’d noticed Rook’s hair from the moment they met. How could he not? The long pale tresses always traipsed behind her like some cloak or ribbons fluttering in the air. He worried she would set it ablaze one day with her own magic but that had yet to happen. She was smart about it of course.
Rook’s hair was always kept orderly in some manner. Long intricate braids. Buns held together with pins and a prayer. When she was very frustrated with it she’d wrap a scarf around her head to fully keep it from falling into her face.
He started starring more after she brought him to the Lighthouse. Here in the Fade, where colors were plentiful, the different shifting hues of the magical plane seemed to catch in her hair. It was a sight to behold and one Lucanis found his gaze drifting to often.
Like now. The afternoon had been particularly rough. After wounds were treated and plans made, Lace offered to help Rook fix the knotted cacophony of her hair post battle. They sat together in the meeting room of the Lighthouse. Rook with her legs crossed and Harding sitting behind her gently brushing through each knot. She worked her way from the ends all the way to the top. Lucanis sat across from them with a book in his hand. The book was to appear inconspicuous but after a while he just gave in and watched the two women.
Harding seemed too focused on her task to notice Lucanis. And Rook…
The man felt his chest grow tight as he took her in. Her head gently tilted towards the ceiling with her eyes closed in quiet rapture. Her lips parted ever so gently. She seemed content. Peaceful.
Rook was prone to fits of scurrying about the Lighthouse that seeing her so utterly calm felt indecent. As if he’d intruded upon an intimate moment. He cleared his throat and tried to focus on the novel in front of him. Spite however was not hiding his enjoyment of the scene before him.
Spite stood on the other side of the room staring at Rook with wide eager eyes. His attention shifted to Harding who was now making quick work of tying Rook’s hair into long interlocking braids. It was delicate work but Harding seemed to have a great knack for it.
”Oh,” Spite let the words curl worth from him, “I want to touch it.” Lucanis felt a coldness set upon him. A creeping dread. He knew Spite could feel it. Spite knew him all too well. Could see into corners of his mind he dared not traverse. The demon cocked its head.
“Does it smell good? Oh….ooooh I bet she smells divine.” Something wicked started to curl in the base of the man’s stomach as he watched the demon reach a hand out towards Rook. He knew the creature wouldn’t be able to touch her. Right? It hadn’t been able to but then what…what was this feeling. Whatever it was was enough to shoot the Crow to his feet.
Harding turned towards him, startled as if she’d forgotten he was there at all, while Rook let her eyes fall open slowly. The two stared at him. “Gosh. Lucanis are you alright?” Harding chuckled. It was a gentle laugh with s hint of bewilderment but no real malice behind it.
Rook just stared.
Lucanis swallowed hard. Then started to mumble something like an answer.
“Yes. Of course. I am fine. It’s just-“ his hand gestured to where Spite was now draped across the sofa smiling at him. Clearly amused by his feeble attempts to talk his way out of this. “I’ll excuse myself.”
Without waiting for a response, Lucanis turned on his heel and briskly left the room as the tips of his ears burned hot with embarrassment.
He did not stop. He could not stop. All the while, Spite trailed behind him spurring him onward with incessant jabs.
“You’ve never even been close enough to smell her! Have you?”
”Your own death stink keeps everyone far from you.”
”Did you see how they looked at you! They know you’re LOSING IT!”
He kept going until he’d secluded himself in the larder he'd claimed as his room. As the heavy door closed behind him he let out a low pained sigh. All he wanted was to sit and unknot whatever burning feeling had decided to burrow inside of him. Unfortunately, Lucanis was never fully alone these days.
”Oh. If she didn’t think you were a freak before,” Lucanis slumped down in a chair. He closed his eyes and dug his finger back into his hair letting his nails scrape against his scalp. When Spite was ranting like this he found it best to just ignore it. Let the damned thing wear itself out.
“Imagine if she learned about your little hair kink! Ha! Were you always like this or is it just her? It’s pretty and soft like the rest of her, huh? Do you want to touch it? Run your greasy nasty death stained fingers through it? Stain her unsullied white hair with your putrid muck!” Spite cackled at that. Lucanis opened his heavy eyelids and just stared at the ceiling.
He didn’t want to acknowledge the creature or what it was saying. If he did…he’d have to admit to himself the truth behind what it was saying.
Yes. He wanted to touch her hair. Yes. It looked pretty and soft and it had been awhile since Lucanis had something so delicate to hold in his hands. To be trusted in such a menial but intimate way.
Harding was the only one Rook let touch her hair and even that had taken some time. It’s something he’d noticed shortly after meeting her. The way she always stood apart from others. Elbowed her way out of hugs. Pushed back against the simplest of touches. He knew something. He knew she’d had a hard life. She was a Crow after all. A gentle life was not in the cards for her. Or for him. The truth of what had happened to her wasn’t for him to pry into. He just knew…something.
Whatever that something was made it hard for her to trust other people. To trust them in the fight to save the world. To trust them to tell her the truth. To trust them to brush her hair after a long day. It was getting better but it would take time.
It had been quiet. Lucanis, still staring at the ceiling, had a moment of quiet hope that Spite had already worn itself out. The demon had certainly embarrassed him enough for one day.
The ever so softly he heard Spite whisper, “I bet you pull her hair when you think about fucking her.”
His nostrils flared sharply. Rage rushed through him. Rationally, he knew he had to keep a level head but a line had been crossed. He turned his head to meet Spite’s dastardly grin.
“You don’t get to talk about her that way.”
The damned creature just kept smiling.
“Of course I do.”
Lucanis would have hit him right then and there. (Not that he could have.) But a quick rasp at the door broke though his anger leaving nothing but dread in its wake. Spite smiled as Lucanis trudged to the door. He knew who it was of course.
There standing in the door frame was Rook. He knew it was a matter of time before she followed him down here. He’d quietly hoped the braids would have taken longer so he could have had more of a buffer. He still felt…hot and her presence was the very crux of the issue.
Her light eyes set onto his immediately. Rook was never shy about eye contact. She always had some sort of dark liner smudge around them making them even more transfixing. Even after a fight she’d taken the time to re-apply it. She took him in silently for a moment. As his pulse ran cold her brow furrowed. Sometimes he wondered if she could read his mind.
“Lucanis,” his name was plush on her tongue. “Are you alright?”
He rolled his shoulders back, breathing in slowly hoping it would ease the next words.
“Rook, I am fine. Please, I just need some time to collect myself.” He knew she didn't believe him. Her eyes glanced past the man in front of her to peer into the seemingly empty room.
“Spite is causing you trouble.”
As if she could read his mind.
“Ah. It always does. I just need it-“ she cut him off.
”What does it want this time? Is there anything we can do?”
Lucanis felt his stomach drop while Spite huffed out a crackling laugh. “HA! TELL HER! TELL HER!” The sound of his screaming reverberated in Lucanis’s head. A sharp pain behind his eye shot through his skull. Blood began to pool out of his nose.
”Mierda.” He tilted his head back and turned back into the room knowing full well Rook would not be leaving now.
The door closed behind them. Lucanis found a scrap of fabric and brought it to his nose to catch the blood. When he turned back he saw Rook watching him with her arms crossed.
”I hate when it does that to you.” He noticed her nails digging into her arms.
”I’m not a fan either.” He huffed as he wiped the rest of the blood away.
“Must be serious if it’s causing such a fuss.” Lucanis smirked at her.
“That’s the thing…it’s really not. It-it’s honestly stupid.”
“But you won’t tell me.”
“But I won’t tell you.”
Rook unclasped her arms and raised them into the air as if asking the Maker himself for help.
“Lucanis you have to trust me enough to tell me these things. If we want to untether you from this,” she gestured wildly around the room, “demon we need to work together.”
Lucanis bit his tongue. He couldn’t read Rook’s expression. She had been trained, just like him, to never reveal her truths. To keep secrets close to the chest. Sometimes it angered him just how good she was at that. How much better she was than him. He couldn’t read her. He couldn’t even get a read on his own feelings . So, he confessed.
”It likes your hair.”
Silence. Her arms lowered to her sides. Her mouth closed into a tight line. Rook blinked twice. Hard. Pointed.
“You’re serious?”
Lucanis glanced around the room and noticed Spite was watching them raptly. It’s eyes gleaming with malice at the shit show unraveling before it. So be it. There was no turning back now.
“Yes.”
”And you had to run away and try to dismiss me…because a demon…likes…my hair?”
“Yes. It tried to touch it.”
“You can’t pin this all on me.” Spite tsked. “You’re a pathetic liar.”
His mouth went dry. He was flushed and winded from the drastic highs and lows of the last few minutes. He felt like he was burning. From embarrassment. From anger. From something deeper licking at him from under his skin.
While he felt a mess he couldn’t make out anything behind Rook’s eyes. Whatever it was she was thinking she was good at keeping it hidden.
“C’mon.” She shoved past the tongue tied man into the room and planted herself in his chair. He watched her intently from where he stood unmoving in the door way.
“Rook…” the name felt clumsy in his mouth.
“You’re going to touch my hair and tell Spite all about it so it will shut up.”
It was as if someone had punched him straight in the chest. He took a single step before stopping himself. Planting himself firmly with his finger digging into his sides.
”I’m not doing that.”
“Please, Lucanis, it's the simplest solution.”
“I already said I’m not going to do that.”
”Please, Lucanis, I don’t care-“
”I care!”
The words had come out louder and harsher than he meant them to be. The sound seemed to cling to the stone walls of the confined space. But the anger had welled up to a point where he could not hold himself back. His anger at Spite for goading him. At himself for yearning for something so simple. At Rook for just...giving in. How many times had she given in just to get a job done? Given aways pieces of herself for others.
”Please, Reverie.” Her eyes widened and her lips parted. Reverie. Reverie . Her real name. He said it with care. Caressing each letter. She needed to hear him. Through the bullshit, through the demons, through the fade.
He closed the space between them and knelt down in front of her, making sure to keep his hands folded mindfully to his chest. “I am not going to touch you at the whim of some demon just to quell it. I refuse.”
He should have stopped there.
He knew that. It was enough. But whatever curling heat was rushing up his spine pushed him to continue.
”If I touch you…I want that to be a choice we both make. No one else.”
There. In the quiet of the larder. For the briefest moment he caught it. A crack. The Crows had taught her well. She was an expert in deception. A professional at never revealing her truth. But for the briefest moment Lucanis swears he saw her breath catch. He too was a professional after all. Even if he felt less than professional kneeling before a woman whose hair he wanted to touch.
He didn’t know how to continue from there so he started moving to get up. To give her space. Just as he began to turn he felt something clasp around his arm. Looking down he found a single hand grasping his forearm. Reverie was making a point not to look at him.
“And if I wanted you…to…” her face was tinged with pink. She opened her mouth to try and finish but could not find the words. She blinked twice. Hard. Precise. She seemed to do that when she was thinking.
Heat bloomed from Lucanis as he found the words for her.
”To touch you.”
She let him go. Pulling her hand back into herself as she exhaled deeply.
“Yes.”
Reverie met his gaze again biting firmly at her bottom lip. It clicked then. The heat. The low curling deep inside rushing up his spine. He held her stare and wet his lips.
”You’d just need to ask.”