Chapter Text
“We lay here for years or for hours;
thrown here or found, to freeze or to thaw.
So long, we'd become the flowers.
Two corpses we were, two corpses I saw.” : In a Week - Hozier and Karen Cowley
“Well. The good news is I know where we are.”
“You know, when you start a sentence that way, I am not very confident I will like what you say next.”
She was an experienced Watcher; so really, she supposed, she should have known better. Never wander into the deep halls and expect things to go to plan.
Rook, Lucanis, and Emmrich had left that very morning for the Necropolis, yet another haunting to take care of in the name of truly earning her place back. She hadn’t minded, though she wished that the mission was more research based for the sake of her own entertainment. Or distraction. Maker she was tired.
When they had arrived in the Hollow Belfry to discuss the excursion’s details with Myrna and Vorgoth, Emmrich received a missive regarding urgent incomplete paperwork for the last semester he had taught. The mission was supposed to be relatively simple: find a malevolent haunting just a few halls deep, resolve the issue without causing more damage, return. A few hours at most. She had encouraged Emmrich to stay behind to get his work done. She and Lucanis could handle the haunting easily enough on their own. She, Lucanis and Spite, and the awkward air between them.
“...The bad news is we are now ...much further down in the halls than we’re supposed to be.”
Her pride still stung from Lucanis’ rejection in the pantry, though they were almost back to “normal” after Emmrich’s corpse whispering of Zara.
Her eyes stung from dust and exhaustion, she hadn’t had a good nights rest in... she didn’t actually know how long. Almost back to normal was not enough to return to their shared sleep shifts in the pantry. A few nights a week; she had watched him sleep a few hours so Spite couldn’t walk their body anywhere. She’d get some work or some reading done in the meantime. Then, he would wake and she would sleep well just from having someone nearby.
She never could sleep in a room alone.
She had tried to imagine going back to the pantry several times since he pulled away from the kiss he almost gave her. The thought made something uncomfortably sharp inside of her clench.
She would bet all the gold in her ears and all of Lucanis’ remaining coffee beans that he wasn’t sleeping well either.
“Please just tell me you know how to get us out.”
They had traveled a short ways through The Necropolis, and quickly found evidence of the haunting. Like a trail of bread crumbs, they followed the malign un-dead’s path of destruction down, through older halls long unused.
Down, down, down further, until at last they cornered it: the returned body of deceased fade explorer Ernest Reldevar; possessed by a malignant spirit and possessing of all of the powers his remains could provide. All told it would have been a difficult fight even if they weren’t both at their limits. Still, they wore it down until finally Rook was able to banish the spirit from the body. She carefully moved the remains away from the path into shadowed safety and made a few sigils and wards, so they could be found and relocated easily once she reported back.
“I know how to get us out.”
“Ah, good!”
If she had been at her best, she would have noticed the signs right away, would have warned Lucanis and moved closer to the walls. Would have felt the first far-off quakes instead of dismissing them as muscle tremors, would have noticed the fine grit and dust rattling and shifting and lifting in the corners of her vision. But she was not at her best, and was utterly helpless when the floor fell out from underneath them. She could only credit her lack of a broken neck to Lucanis or Spite thinking quickly enough to catch her and hold her, ephemeral wings appearing and flapping against the gravity of two bodies, as they fell, then slid down a heavily slanted scree of paving stones and pottery pieces and bones.
“It’s at least a full day’s walk.”
They fell, crumpled into a graceless heap on the ground. Spite’s wing lay protectively over her head, Lucanis’ torso partially across her back, as small stones still fell from the edges of the void above. When the world settled once more they unfolded their limbs, stood and shook themselves off; Rook sneezed a few times as Spite tucked his wings away, and they peered through the clouds of dust surrounding them. Pale white joined the haze as their breath met the air, so much colder this far underground. They stood in a portion of tall corridor limned with a thin green light. The collapsed wall and ceiling they had fallen through turned the corridor behind them into a cavern.
“... Excellent.”
“This section has reorganized.” She sighed and stretched out her back, flinching at the pops that echoed around them. “Whatever the Necropolis moved must have been holding the other floor up.” Lucanis finished shaking out his cloak as she spoke, then moved on to checking his weapons. Always so methodical.
“How can you tell? That it was not just some random collapse?”
“Do you see the sconces? The magelights in the rest of this corridor are archaic, we haven’t actively used this style since the Exalted Age. Same with the reliquary vases, those are... hah, likely Black Age? This corridor must belong to a crypt much, much deeper than where we were. The walls likely weren’t structurally sound.”
She quickly patted herself down: two mageblades, dagger, check. All the buttons on her jacket and the golden crow brooch pinned inside the left breast, check. Grave gold, check. No broken bones, but she’d likely have a bruised hip. Lucanis was turned away, looking down into the new cavern, so she quickly looked him over as well. No blood, no belongings missing that she could tell, no broken bones crying out to her magic. Maker, even covered in ancient dust he was nice to look at, especially his-
Her heart leapt as he faced her again; she pretended she hadn’t been ogling him, though with how tired she was, her reaction time was too slow. She could only pray he was too tired to notice her blush.
“You said you know how to get us out,”
She gestured for him to follow, and stepped further into the corridor, away from the collapse.
“but you speak as if you have never been here before.”
“I haven’t.” They shuffled into the darker, more intact portion of crypt hall. Less dust in the air there, though she could still feel another sneeze or two on the way. “But; these older parts of the halls are often designed in very similar ways, and long-term archeological expeditions through areas about this age were conducted as recently as fifty years ago.”
“That is recent?”
So many questions. “In the Grand Necropolis?” They came up to a set of double doors twice as tall as she was, and with a combined effort they were able to push one door open enough to slip through.
“Yes. But the point is that these were long-term missions. Long enough for the Watch to set up travelers shelters along the paths. We find one, we rest for the night, we continue following the trail of shelters left behind until we do get somewhere I have been before. Then, depending on where we pop out, perhaps just a few hours of walking to return to the upper halls.”
Past the double doors was another, wider, taller hall; dappled with bright yellowish magelights from high above to mimic faint sunbeams. The light slanted around crumbling stone archways, and though the air was cold, pink peonies and stunted red camellia bushes lent their color to small dirt plots along the grey path. A cousin of sorts to the Memorial Gardens further up in the Necropolis. Despite it all, she wasn’t so worn down that she couldn’t appreciate the poetic beauty of life finding a way to continue in a place for the dead.
“How are there flowers growing here?”
“I don’t know.” Ah wait, no, she hadn’t meant to snap at him.
“Perhaps they’re a varietal that has grown to be more hardy, with colder temperatures, poorer soil, and less light. You would have to ask a Watcher who specializes in crypt biology and botany.” He was asking good questions, she just...
It was so much harder to hide her agitation at him like this. Cold, tired. Sore: in the body and the heart. She had resolved to put her feelings aside after he stepped away from their kiss in the pantry. Control it. Push it down. They had both let it go too far; she had shown too much of her soft, rotten center, and he had humored her. Had he just liked the attention, after a year of being tortured by Zara and Calivan? Or perhaps he simply hadn’t known how to tell her no, until they were almost nose to nose. Whichever it was she needed to fold up her own sad pining and tuck it away, stay kind and cool and collected. They all had a job to do, and she was the leader, so she had better act like it.
To his credit, he didn’t ask any more questions after. He must have caught on to her sour mood, that or Spite could smell it. They spoke very little except what was necessary as they marched on through the maze-like paths, as time crawled alongside them on all fours. The temperature kept dropping, and dropping. She was starting to shiver despite her constant movement and the layers of her armor. Blessedly, just as she was thinking she couldn’t stand it anymore; they climbed into another new cavern and laid eyes on the shelter they were searching for.
A single room shack, built into a crevice in the rocky wall of the cavern. The roof was bowed and partially collapsed on one side, and the small door built into the front was hanging off of its hinges. It may as well have been a luxury hotel.
She went ahead of Lucanis, stepping around little patches of white yarrow blooming out of where the shack’s wood walls met the ground, then carefully sidled the door open, held it for him. Inside was... less than ideal.
At least there was a small fireplace and chimney built up against the stone wall. At least there was dry wood to burn. There was a mattress pushed against one wall, intact, with a blanket and a few thin pillows.
Its twin had been against the other wall, and was buried under the parts of the roof that had fallen. The straw and feather ticking poked out of places where time had torn the fabric, and moss and small plants grew where the far-away false daylight would shine in brighter hours. A single tuberose grew in the center, standing solitary, stretching for the non-existent sky.
They both stood near the doorway, inspecting the rubble, then the intact mattress.
Scheiße. She deflated with a heavy sigh, and rubbed at her face with both hands.
“I’ll take the first shift, you sleep.” He broke the silence for the first time in what felt like hours.
“What?” her fingers muffled her voice as she spoke.
“You’ve been av- very tired lately. You can sleep first. I’ll keep watch.” He wouldn’t look her in the eye. Still, she saw the growing bruising under his eyes. That had been getting better before. Soon enough he’d get back to the point where Spite puts him in danger again, if he didn’t put himself in danger first from simple sleep depravation. This was ridiculous. At least she had been trying to sleep this whole time.
“No.”
“...What do you mean, “no”?”
“Lucanis. You’re exhausted. I’m exhausted. We’re in a safe place, we both desperately need sleep, and it’s freezing. We’ll share the bed.”
He didn’t respond. “We almost lost to that haunting today and we wouldn’t be in this situation in the first place if we were both at our best. A few shivering hours of sleep each is not going to be enough to get us back out of here safely tomorrow.”
He didn’t blink as she continued. “We need to be practical. I’m going to go find somewhere to relieve myself and then set up some wards, you set up the fire and start some dinner. When we are done we are both laying down for the night.”
She could see the panic in his eyes as he thought her argument through. Was the idea of sleeping next to her truly so awful to him?
“...You are right, I- ...we need to be practical. We cannot be a liability to each other tomorrow.”
She gave him a single nod, passed him her hip pouch with her rations and canteen, then turned back for the door. It was relatively easy to find a spot some paces away for privacy, but exposing her skin to the still cooling air was its own added torture. After that, setting wards for overnight was another level of difficulty entirely. She drew on the dredges of her energy, overlaying two circles for protection and deflection. Her shivering made her hands tremble, she broke the second spell twice before finally getting it down. They likely wouldn’t have been bothered by man or spirit in such a remote area, but better safe than sorry. Then, finally, she trudged back into the shack, where the air was steadily warming up thanks to the fire Lucanis had struck in the little fireplace. He had set a small camp pot near the flames, and it was already almost boiling.
“Nothing fancy, but emergency rations never are.”
“Fine.” She huffed as she sat down on the floor next to where Lucanis kneeled by the fire, and tried not to wince as her sore hip complained. “I’ve set up some protective wards around the perimeter.”
He tossed a handful of jerky into the water. “Would you also be able to make an alarm, for if something gets close? Like before.”
She almost scoffed aloud at that, but just barely held herself back. “No. I don’t have enough energy left. It’s a miracle I was able to make the wards.” An alarm was a good idea though, she had struggled so hard with the wards, they were probably quite weak. Was there anything they could do? What resources did they...
“Could you let me talk to Spite?”
“What? Why?” She didn’t get a chance to answer before Spite came to the front, glowing purple through Lucanis’ eyes and smirking with his mouth.
“Rook wants to talk?”
“Hello Spite. Would you be able to let Lucanis sleep tonight, and also keep watch over us in case something bad shows up?”
“i will protect Rook. always.” He rasped as he leaned Lucanis’ body closer to hers. She reached out and put a hand to his shoulder, pushed him away gently.
“Thank you Spite, but I need you to promise me you’ll let Lucanis sleep, and only wake him if absolutely necessary”
Spite narrowed Lucanis’ eyes at her, as if contemplating the pros and cons.
“Promise me.”
“hmm... i promise.”
“Thank you. Could you please bring Lucanis back now?” He blinked a few times and the purple glow faded back away, leaving only warm brown. Those eyes. Schöpfer bewahre sie she would probably do anything he asked if he just looked at her with those sweet brown eyes. The bastard.
“Sorry.”
He heaved a sigh and ran a hand over his face. “You truly are the only person he listens to. I do not know how you do it.” At that, he stood and let himself outside. She listened as the grit crunching under his boots grew further and further away.
Maker what was she doing? He clearly had been trying to distance himself from her, and now she was forcing him to share a bed? She wasn’t wrong, it was a matter of survival that they both stay warm and sleep well, but pressuring him into it didn’t feel good. Despite her guilt, a swoop of excitement rolled through her stomach at the thought of laying next to him. Damn her traitorous heart.
She could only hope he could forgive her, that they would both fall asleep quickly, and that Spite would keep his promise to protect them.
Spite always kept his promises.
Lucanis came back shortly thereafter, and got back to cooking; taking a quarter of her portion of pemmican and breaking it as well as some dried potatoes into the boiling water with the softened jerky. They sat in silence as he stirred the pot of thickening soup.
She didn’t remember nodding off as she basked in the warm glow of the fire, but was woken by a gentle shake of her shoulder and a bowl pressed into her hands. In truth, thanks to her nerves she wouldn’t have had much appetite even if it was the most decadent meal Lucanis could think up; but not eating at all would undermine her entire survival argument. It wasn’t bad, honestly he could probably make anything taste good. Still she had to force herself to get it all down as he watched her eat out of the corner of his eye.
And then her bowl was empty. And his bowl was empty. They could only delay the inevitable for so long. So, she stood, passed her dish into his waiting hands, and plodded over to the bed. A single blanket, they’d have to share. She lifted the blanket, shook it out, then shook out the pillows. Dusty. Double checked the ticking of the mattress for bugs or rodents. Clean and dry. As she checked, Lucanis rinsed their bowls and the camp pot, and tossed the dirty water. The tension in the air thickened and squeezed the breath out of her lungs.
She took her long jacket off, and laid it on top of the blanket as Lucanis approached the other side of the bed. He hesitated as she started to unbuckle her chestplate, but eventually copied her, placing his own cloak on top of the blanket as well. She unbuckled her cuisses from her thighs, letting them ‘clank’ heavily down onto the floor next to her breast and back plates, then sat down on the bed to untie her boots. She wasn’t watching him as he began to take off his own outer armors, but she heard the soft shuffle of leathers being removed, and the ‘thunk’ing of many blades being tossed into a pile. Goodness he had a lot of knives.
She stood and took off her gambeson vest, tossing it on top of the blanket as well. The both of them were left in simple shirts and trousers. She reached for the collar of her shirt, and fumbled a bit as she started shivering again. As she unfastened the top two buttons of the collar, just for comfort; a flash of purple blinked in her peripheral, as Lucanis looked away and began adjusting his own collar and shirtsleeves.
Finally, with no other barriers to getting into the bed left besides her own mind, she heaved a sigh and lifted the blanket. They both toed their way under carefully, avoiding the eyes of the other. Thankfully, the bed was big enough that they both had enough room to lay down side by side. Not big enough to ignore the weight of his body dip the mattress next to her, feel it like gravity pulling her towards him. Not big enough to keep the heat of his arm from burning through her sleeve where they brushed.
Despite the fire struggling to warm the shack, and the fire licking at her shoulder where they touched, she was still shivering with cold. She hunkered down further under the blanket, though the dust still left in its weave threatened to make her sneeze again. She crossed her arms tightly, and closed her eyes. As the warmth of their bodies trapped under the sheets finally drew her to true sleep despite her previous nerves, she had one final thought.
“Goodnight, Lucanis.”
“...Goodnight, Rook.”
“goodnight. Rook.”