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If anyone ever asks how it happened, Rook decides she will blame Andarateia. The woman is after all an outrageous flirt, who flatters her with countless honey-tongued compliments. And also a gossip, who lets slip that Viago feels a little bad, nearly ten years too late, about not recognizing Lucanis’s clumsy attempt at flirtation.
They drink too much fortified wine at the casino and someone (Rook will swear it was Teia; it was not) suggests wouldn’t it be fun to let them make up for lost time. It is a ridiculous idea, and they both laugh uproariously, but Rook wakes up the next morning with a dry mouth and a hangover and thinks, maybe.
She knows enough about Lucanis’s past to know the idea would not be foreign to him, and she’s had her own escapades – casual connections, even with multiple partners, are hardly uncommon in the Grey Wardens. There was a thing with Antoine and Evka once, years ago, that Rook blames on the whisky and the fact they’d all nearly died in a darkspawn raid earlier that day.
That just leaves Spite, whose sexual experiences are by nature limited to the bed she shares with Lucanis, but whose interests have proven to be diverse. Well, and Viago, she supposes, but that one’s for Teia to manage.
Eventually she raises the subject with Lucanis, who spits out his coffee, only for Spite to ask, “Can we? I want to. I like them. Can we?”
When Rook and Spite are aligned, Lucanis rarely denies them, but he leaves it to her to work out the details.
So Rook goes to the market and buys more sherry, and she gets drunk with Teia (it’s becoming a habit) and asks, “Do you remember that thing you suggested?”
“I am fairly certain it was your suggestion,” Teia says, her eyes twinkling over the rim of her glass.
“That part is pretty foggy, honestly,” Rook lies brazenly, “but regardless, we were wondering …”
And so Teia waves Viago over, gives her lover the sweetest smile Rook has ever seen, and asks, “How do you feel about foursomes?”
“There’s five,” Rook corrects. “Don’t forget Spite.”
Viago spits out his Sangiovese.
“I’ll work on him,” Teia says with a broad wink. She leans in and adds in a conspiratorial stage whisper, “Don’t worry, he’ll say yes.”
“I’m right here,” Viago says, but Teia waves him off with a laugh. He leaves to rejoin his earlier conversation, grumbling dramatically, “Why even bother pretending I have a say in anything?”
Rook laughs and clinks her glass together with Teia’s.
They decide to wait until the summer house is open. Now that the gods are defeated, Lucanis has stepped fully into the role of First Talon. Caterina keeps busy with her garden, though she’s always available to provide her expertise in the form of sage advice or a cutting remark, depending on the circumstance.
Rook helps Lucanis where she can, mostly with the running of the estate. “I can’t believe we killed the gods just for me to end up a housewife,” she teases, though she has her own work with the wardens that takes her away for weeks at a time.
Restoring the old garden house becomes something of a group project: Viago scours the Dellamorte collection for suitable pieces of art, while Teia selects new furniture and textiles for every room. Lucanis, of course, mostly obsesses over the renovations to the kitchen. Rook oversees the workers and invoices, stunned by her first real glimpse into Lucanis’s family fortune.
Teia’s biggest triumph is the bed she commissions for the room Rook will share with Lucanis (and Spite, of course). It is a monument, with four towering posters carved from solid mahogany, decorated with blooming roses, a crow topping each pole while the headboard features rampant griffins. When Rook sees it for the first time, she momentarily forgets how to speak, and that’s before Teia pulls out the yards of translucent white silk that will serve as the canopy.
“This is too much,” Rook finally says, overwhelmed by her friend’s attention to detail. It’s a far cry from the clan she lost, or the streets of Vyrantium where she’d eked out a meagre existence before joining the wardens.
Teia just laughs and hugs her.
“Lucanis is paying for everything,” the other elf reminds her.
“Thanks, Teia,” Lucanis says drily, but there’s genuine affection in his expression.
“Smells like fresh laundry and anticipation,” Spite says.
The days are growing longer and warmer, and the flowers on the veranda are in full bloom. The last items for the house have arrived, and Rook and Teia badger Lucanis into agreeing to have a party to open the season. (“Neve should never have introduced you two,” he mutters, shaking his head, though his smile gives away the lie.)
Nobody says it, but they all know how the party will end.
Everyone comes. It’s the first time in months Rook has seen them all together, and her heart swells with gratitude that everyone made the time to visit. Still, she feels the absences keenly. In a quiet moment, Emmrich catches her watching the water through the open window and squeezes her shoulder.
“We all wish they were here,” he says softly.
She nods, swallowing around the lump in her throat as she reaches up to quickly grasp his hand. Before she can get too maudlin, though, Neve is refilling her glass and Taash launches into an outrageous story about a Highland Ravager, and she laughs until the sadness passes.
It’s shortly after midnight when Teia starts conspicuously hinting that people should leave (for a Crow, she can be remarkably lacking in subtlety). For the first time, Rook appreciates the utility of the estate’s primary guest house, as Viago and Lucanis wish everyone a good night and send them off towards the sleeping quarters on the other side of the property with promises of a late lunch tomorrow.
Rook worries it will be awkward, but Viago pulls out the nice wine glasses and a bottle he chose for the occasion, and they all sit, and they drink and make comfortable small talk for a while. Rook and Teia settle on one couch while Lucanis and Viago rest on the other, and she is tipsy and pleasantly warm when Teia plucks the glass from her hand and leans in to kiss her.
“Oh,” Rook says against her lips, and moans when Teia seizes the opportunity to deepen the kiss. She’s aware of their audience but tries to focus on the feel of Teia’s mouth on hers, the slide of their tongues and the heady taste of fine wine. When they break apart, she looks over to the other couch to see Lucanis’s eyes glowing purple; he’s still holding his wineglass, though it dangles loosely from his fingers as he leans back in his seat, watching intently. Viago, meanwhile, is leaned forward, his expression just as focused
Satisfied that everyone is on the same page, Rook returns her attention to Teia. It is heady, kissing someone other than Lucanis or Spite. Teia’s body is warm against hers, soft in places where her lover is firm, and she feels drunk, suddenly, far more drunk than she should be. Teia laughs into the kiss when Rook’s hands tug at her clothes, murmuring, “Eager, are we?” against her mouth, but Rook has waited for this moment for months and is unashamed of her desire.
They undress each other, there on the couch, and Rook is dimly aware of the men watching them as she slides from the couch to the floor. She does not perform, does not try to impress them, just lets Teia lead her between her thighs.
“It’s been a while since I’ve done this,” she admits, and Teia chuckles warmly in response and then gasps when Rook spreads her folds and slides her tongue up her slit.
She tastes musky and sweet, already so wet beneath Rook’s mouth and hands, and she takes her time, kissing and stroking while Teia tangles her fingers in her hair, holding her there with a grip that’s surprisingly firm. Rook hardly minds, so focused on her task, sliding two fingers into Teia’s waiting pussy while she wraps her lips around the swollen nub that makes the woman above her gasp and jerk.
“Oh, Rook, you should see what they’re doing,” Teia murmurs, but Rook cannot see because Teia is holding her there between her thighs, her hips rocking against Rook’s face. If she listens, though, she can make out other sounds beyond the wet slide of her fingers into Teia’s cunt – Viago’s ragged breathing, a pleased chuckle she knows comes from Lucanis, that sweet sound he’s made with her so many times.
She pulls away just far enough to say, “Tell me,” and Teia does, letting Rook paint the picture in her mind: Viago now leaned back against the couch, his legs splayed, leather breeches open, head tilted back against the cushions Teia so carefully selected all those weeks earlier. Lucanis – and Spite, Rook knows Spite is there too, though Teia doesn’t say – has their hand wrapped around Viago’s shaft, stroking him to hardness, his own cock straining against his trousers as he trails insistent kisses down the other man’s throat.
And then Teia is shaking beneath her hands and her tongue, and her mind goes gloriously blank of everything except the feel of the woman under her clenching around her fingers, gasping, “Rook, Rook,” as she climaxes, gushing wet into Rook’s mouth.
It’s only then that Rook can turn, settling on the floor at Teia’s feet to watch, to see the details Teia missed: her lovers’ eyes blazing violet, the way they palm themselves as they stroke their thumb firmly over the glistening head of Viago’s cock, the rhythmic flexing of Viago’s hips and how his mouth hangs just slightly open as he pants. Rook slips her hand between her own thighs and strokes her clit as she watches, resting her head against Teia’s knee as the other woman cards her fingers through Rook’s hair.
It does not take long until Viago is grunting “fuck, Lucanis,” and comes, spurting over their fingers. Rook knows she will return to this memory later: how Lucanis leans in to kiss him, their mouths sliding together with surprising softness, Viago uncharacteristically uncoordinated as he reaches for Lucanis’s face.
Lucanis’s eyes are bright when he eventually pulls away, and Spite says, “More, more,” as everyone laughs breathlessly.
And so she scrambles to her feet, pulling Teia up with her, watching out of the corner of her eye as her lovers (she thinks of them that way, as plural, when she knows Spite is there) drag Viago up to stand on legs are still wobbly from pleasure. Teia and Rook leave their clothes on the floor where they fell, and the four of them (five, don’t forget Spite) gradually make their way to the bedroom, pausing here or there for Teia to push Viago’s shirt from his shoulders or for Lucanis to step out of his trousers, until all of them are bare and they can stumble together into that grand bed in a tangle of limbs.
For a little while, Rook closes her eyes, focusing on the feelings, though she knows when it is Lucanis or Spite who touches her, their hands familiar on her breasts and her stomach. She recognizes Viago’s kiss from his beard, his more delicate fingers that trace her cheek as he licks into her mouth. Teia’s hands are deft and quick between her thighs when she touches Rook there, and she moans with pleasure she has spent so long imagining.
Eventually, Teia says, “Vi – Vi, her mouth is amazing,” and Rook looks up to see him smirk.
“Not better than mine, I should hope.”
“No, not better. But different.”
“I’m not sure I’m ready,” he says. There is still a trace of his previous spend on his stomach, but when Teia runs her hand up his length he hardens once more, and so he looks at Rook with interest and a question in his dark eyes.
It has been a long while since she has done this for anyone but Lucanis and Spite, but her lovers watch her with something like pride and she feels warm with excitement.
They arrange themselves on the soft mattress, Viago rising slightly on his knees as Rook settles on her stomach in front of him. It starts gentle: Teia strokes her hair as she slides her mouth onto Viago’s cock, and he holds his hips still while she grasps his thighs, tongue tracing the wet slit at his tip. Lucanis rubs a hand down her spine and Rook moans with arousal, feeling herself leak onto the silk bedspread beneath her. Viago is slightly longer than Lucanis, and thinner, and his taste is pleasant but unfamiliar.
And then Spite says, “I want Rook, too.”
Teia’s laugh is mischievious, and Rook knows the glint in her eye well even though she is too busy to see it. “Then you should take her,” Teia says.
She feels the mattress shift as Spite kneels behind her, and then he’s tugging her hips up until she’s on her hands and knees, Viago’s cock still in her mouth. Spite, Rook knows from ample experience, can be a considerate lover, but it is not what comes naturally to him. Lucanis is usually the tempering influence, but there are times they agree to let Spite have his way, leaving her with bruises and bite marks, and she knows this will be one of those.
His fingers dig hard into her hips as he pushes into her from behind, her cunt gushing wetly around his cock as he slides in deep. Spite’s first thrust forces her forward onto Viago’s cock, until he presses into the back of her throat. She whimpers, her fingers grasping at the Fifth Talon’s thighs for support as Spite pulls almost out of her.
She’s only vaguely aware of Teia settling next to her own lover, her hands between her own thighs as she leans in to kiss along his jaw. Viago holds perfectly, blessedly still, his lean muscles taut while his hands go to twist in Rook’s hair. His expression is serious, and he watches her face intently – he is searching for any sign of discomfort, Rook realizes, and she moans softly to let him know this is good.
“Smells like –” Spite says, but he doesn’t finish the sentence, because then his hips are snapping against hers, his grasp firm as his body compels her forward with each thrust. The rhythm has her fucking her mouth on Viago’s cock, the sound of his gasps mixing with Spite’s grunts of pleasure. She loses track of her own body, feels reduced to parts: a mouth and a cunt to be used and passed between them, and she finds she does not mind. She does not know how long it lasts, her fingers digging into Viago’s thighs, leaving bruises of her own on his olive skin.
It becomes almost, almost too much – there is barely any time to breathe, and a dull ache grows each time Spite pushes in, and he is biting her shoulder maybe too hard – and suddenly his grip on her grows gentle and she’s able to pull from Viago’s cock with a grateful noise, gasping for air. She cannot see Lucanis behind her, but she feels him in the way his thumb strokes the marks Spite has made on her skin.
“Rook,” he says, voice soft, and she shudders against his body as he slips out of her. He guides her onto her back on the mattress, and she smiles up at him, sore but content. He always knows when she needs a reprieve. “Okay?” he asks, his eyes the colour of the black coffee he savours so often, and she nods as she reaches for him.
She knows Viago and Teia are next to them, feels the weight of their bodies on the mattress, but when Lucanis slides back inside her, gazing into her eyes, she forgets everything else. His familiar hand reaches between them to feel where they join, finding her clit and stroking her firmly. He kisses are sweet and slow, and Rook gasps as he brings her closer and closer to that edge. She cups his face in her hands and says, “Bring him back. I want you both.”
A shudder goes through his body, and she watches the violet rise in his eyes, hears Teia’s delighted gasp as Spite’s wings materialize. Rook does not last long after that, her climax building quickly as Spite and Lucanis rock into her harder now, their thumb stroking her until her body tightens around them. They fuck her through her orgasm, their thrusts growing faster and firmer until they, too, reach their peak, and spill in hot spurts inside her.
It takes her a moment, after Lucanis rolls off of her, Spite’s wings fading and then dissipating completely, to remember their company. Viago is still hard, lazily stroking himself as Teia kisses him. Next to her on the bed, Lucanis lies on his back and closes his eyes, a hand resting on his stomach. Rook waits a few moments, just basking in the afterglow of her orgasm, and then she reaches over and nudges Teia’s thigh.
Teia pulls away from Viago’s mouth, and there’s a glow to her skin that lets Rook know she has not been unoccupied. She raises an inquisitive eyebrow, and Rook looks at Viago, his hand on his cock, and then at Lucanis, and finally back at Teia. They both remember the conversation that started this, and Teia reaches over and stills Viago’s hand, and says, “Vi, do you want to fuck Lucanis?”
Lucanis slits his eyes open at that, and they are soft, and dark, and brown. If he minds being offered up, he does not show it; instead, he shifts so that his legs fall slightly open as Viago gives a slow nod.
Rook has planned for this, and there is lotion in the table next to the bed. She presses the cool jar into Teia’s hand, then settles against the headboard next to Viago. She gives her lover’s arm a slight tug, and he moves to rest his head in her lap as Andarateia settles between his parted thighs.
Absently, Rook strokes Viago’s cock, but her attention is on watching the other elf, who reaches down to find Lucanis’s entrance and slide lotion-slick fingers into him, one at a time. Lucanis’s mouth falls open as he releases a soft moan, his hips lifting to grant her better access. His cock, still soft from use, twitches against his belly.
Rook has done this for him countless times, using her hands and often her tongue to push into her lover’s body. It is different to watch, and she reaches with her free hand to stroke the hair back from his temples. There are many things she has done for him, but what is about to happen is something she cannot give him on her own; she knows the objects they sometimes use together are not the same as a warm cock. “Tell us when you’re ready,” she whispers, and Lucanis nods as he looks up at her, gratitude plain on his face.
“Yes,” he says. “Please.”
Teia slides her fingers out with a soft, wet sound. She crawls out from between Lucanis’s legs and moves to join Rook at the top of the bed, pausing to give Viago a quick kiss. Rook notices the way they quickly clasp hands, sharing a private look before he lifts himself off the mattress.
Viago goes to the foot of the bed, slicking more of the lotion over himself. There’s a hint of violet in her lover’s eyes as Viago clambers back onto the mattress and situates himself, sliding his shoulders beneath Lucanis’s thighs and finding that angle where their hips fit together.
“He wants it,” Spite says, “he’s ready,” and if Viago is surprised by the demon’s presence, he doesn’t show it, but uses his hand to guide himself into Lucanis’s body with a groan.
After everything else they’ve done already, it is surprisingly intimate: Viago rocking into Lucanis, Teia tucked against Rook’s side as she pleasures herself to the scene in front of them. Rook, for her part, is thoroughly sated, still feels Lucanis’s spend leaking from her. She is content to simply smooth his brow with her fingers as he moans someone else’s name, murmuring quiet encouragements when Viago leans forward to kiss him, the movement folding Lucanis nearly in half.
It is slow, and soft, and Lucanis reaches up to grasp her hand while Viago fucks him with a tenderness she had hoped for but maybe not expected. It lasts, and it lasts, and it lasts, and Rook is grateful.
Next to her, Andarateia watches Viago with a soft expression, and finally she says, “Come for me, darling,” and with a few more rolls of his hips, he does, gasping Lucanis’s name with a kind of reverence before collapsing, exhausted and satisfied, onto the mattress next to him.
Teia pulls her fingers from herself and reaches for Viago, who brings her hand to his mouth and laps the wetness from her digits. They all lie there for several minutes, breathing together as a breeze from the window stirs the pale canopy draped around the bed. The room smells like sex and jasmine, but Spite does not remark on it, likely too sated from the evening’s numerous pleasures.
Eventually they will stir, and clean themselves, and they will trade lazy kisses while the candles burn down. They will sleep, tangled together, warm and comfortable and at peace.
And Rook decides she will not blame Teia after all.