Chapter Text
Illario had started drinking already, and Lucanis clearly hadn’t slept in days. Teia looked to the large blue vase patterned with red dahlias that Illario had brought back from Villa Dellamorte. To the ashes of the woman they were making arrangements for, sitting between the four of them on a low table in one of the Cantori Diamond’s private rooms.
I thought Caterina hated that vase, Lucanis had said as Illario set it down. He had brought Rook with him, and sat next to him on the navy blue sofa. Wasn’t it a gift from House Kortez?
Illario had snapped, his usually pretty eyelashes shadowing his dark, tired eyes. He looked almost as bad as Lucanis. Do you really trust your memory right now, cousin? This was her favourite. She bought it herself.
Teia was sure Lucanis was right. And she was surprised, since Illario was usually more conscious of how something like this would look. But it didn’t matter now. Illario had gone to pieces when Lucanis died, too. This wasn’t the time for squabbling about which house was in whose favour.
Teia would make sure that what remained of House Kortez after the incident on the Verdant Isle didn’t think too much of it, without insulting them.
“Caterina will be placed in the columbarium at Villa Dellamorte,” Teia said. “Between the ashes of your mothers, as she requested.”
“At Villa Dellamorte?” Illario echoed.
Teia frowned slightly. “Where did you think she wanted to be buried, Antiva City?” she asked. But it was hard to stay annoyed at him right now. “If you aren’t ready to have guests in the Villa without her, we can hold the memorial at the Diamond.” The way we did for Lucanis, she didn’t want to say. “People will talk, but let them. You are the last of her family. You get to decide.”
“Thank you,” Illario replied, his face falling into a grimace. “It will be... too much, I think, having people in the house without her.”
“I’ll take care of it,” Teia replied. She looked to Lucanis, who only stared at his hands. He hadn’t touched his wine. She knew he hadn’t been back to the Villa since he returned, and she wasn’t sure whether it was Lucanis, Illario or both that didn’t want him to.
Illario had warned her about the demon in Lucanis a few times now, confided his fears for and fears of his cousin. More than the normal jostling of Antivan family succession, Illario seemed truly wary of him now.
But it was obvious, how Lucanis’ hands shook. He was different than he had been before his death.
Teia turned the page of her journal with a sharp metal dip pen. One of her favourite gifts from Viago. An elegantly sharp tip, the handle engraved with her name and two wings intertwined. And then there was the small internal reservoir of Adder’s Kiss hidden inside, the thin hinges disguised among the golden filigree. Viago’s paranoia was so endearing, sometimes.
“So,” she said. “The service.”
Neither Lucanis or Illario said anything.
She looked to Rook.
“Transfigurations 10:1, the Chant for the Departed,” Teia continued, swirling the red wine in her glass in small, neat circles. “Caterina would have wanted to finish with the traditional reading. Do you want to add anything else?”
Rook wore a strange, crooked grin, even taking into account the stiffness of the magic-scarred half of his face. His hands tightened around his own glass. It was not a look of confidence.
But of course. She’d almost forgotten he wasn’t as Antivan as any of the other Crows that had been born elsewhere.
Rook was an elf from Minrathous, carrying scars and callouses that reminded her of some of the purchased recruits of houses like Arainai and Nero. Of Zevran Arainai, the notorious Crow turned Crow-killer. Of herself, before she’d taken the seat of Seventh Talon for herself and changed House Cantori with her own hands. Minrathous might have been an even worse place for an elf to be from than the gutters of Antiva.
And Minrathous certainly didn’t have the same Chant of Light as anywhere else in Thedas.
“Lucanis,” Rook said, before Teia could rescue him herself. “Any thoughts? Any… favourite passages?”
“Oh,” Lucanis murmured, lifting his head slightly as if called from a dream, dark eyes hard as ever. Maybe Teia was imagining it, but Lucanis seemed to shift as he looked up, sitting a knife’s-edge closer to Rook.
Lucanis’ trust in Rook was sweet, but… sad. It should have been Illario – the last of his family, the only person he’d ever seemed more than professionally close to – that he should be able to turn to now, not this near-stranger. But… this must be hard for Illario too.
He’d mourned his cousin – and anyone could tell that they were more like brothers – for a year, and now Lucanis had returned. A similar man, but a different one. This wouldn’t be easy for any of them.
“Andraste 7:19,” Lucanis said quietly. Of course. The way he spoke when he was trying to get any information from Illario about what happened. A white hot anger she’d not thought him capable of. “Those who oppose thee shall know the wrath of heaven. Field and forest shall burn, the seas shall rise and devour them, the wind shall tear their nations from the face of the earth, lightning shall rain down from the sky, they shall cry out to their false gods, and find silence.”
“Very dramatic,” Illario muttered into his hand. He poured himself another glass of wine, eyes daring Teia to stop him. “Trials 1:16. Draw your last breath, my friends. Cross the Veil and the Fade and all the stars in the sky. Rest at the Maker's right hand, and be forgiven.”
Be forgiven, murmured into the quiet of that room in the Diamond.
Teia had loved Caterina Dellamorte, but the harsh steel the First Talon used to reveal the talents of her children and grandchildren was no secret. Teia had kept her favour by not asking about it, not speaking too much of how she was trying to rebuild House Cantori into finding the same strength by another path.
But even then, Teia suspected that Illario was asking for forgiveness for more than his grandmother. They all had someone else’s blood on their hands, after all.
“Alright, a reading from both of you,” Teia said quietly. “I’ll arrange everything, and send all the invitations for three days’ time. I’ll send for a Chantry Mother from Antiva City for the service. Perhaps I can convince the Inquisition to spare one, if Lady Montilyet agrees to an alliance.” She looked up, catching Rook’s eye. Lucanis was staring at Illario. Well, looking, but a look from Lucanis Dellamorte was a fairly intense affair. “If you don’t have any other plans, you’re welcome to stay at the Diamond until the funeral. I’ve arranged suites for all three of you. About your clothing...”
Illario took that as a chance to stand, holding the urn tightly to his chest. “Yes, about that. I need to return this to the Villa and go to see my tailor,” he said. “Thank you for everything, Teia.”
“Illario, wait,” Lucanis called, turning to look over his shoulder. But if his cousin heard him before he closed the door, he ignored him.
“Lucanis,” Teia said softly. “He just needs some time alone. Your cousin is a difficult man to get a hold of at the moment, but I’ll let him know you want to meet when I deliver what we’ll need at the grave to Villa Dellamorte. You’d like to go for a drink to remember your grandmother, yes?”
“Harding’s still trying to get in touch with those Grey Wardens,” Rook added. “We’ve got time to stay in Treviso for a few days, if you want to.”
With a sigh that sounded more like a growl, Lucanis turned back to him. “I’d rather be busy,” he said. “There was something you wanted to look into in Arlathan. That spirit, and the missing elves. I’ll come. Teia, we’ll be back for the funeral.”
“That’s fine,” Teia said. “But, about your clothing…”
“...Ah,” Rook said, realising what she was reaching for.
“Lucanis, Caterina kept your clothes,” Teia said, pretending she didn’t see Lucanis wince. Because Caterina had believed she’d see him wear them again one day, and… now, here they were. “We can see if any of your old outfits need altered, if you aren’t as interested in rush jobs at the tailor as your cousin.”
“Fine,” Lucanis said quietly.
“And Rook, do you have anything to wear?” Teia asked.
Rook shook his head as he gestured to what he was wearing. A red-lined leather jacket, practical but obviously already patched at the elbows. “Other than this, no.”
“That’s fine,” Teia said. “Not every Crow comes from a long line of them.” Her remark wasn’t pointed at Lucanis. It was simply the truth. Teia put a lot of her coin towards beautiful things because she’d been born with nothing, and she expected that someone like Rook had no finery either. A gift, for someone she saw her own poverty in. “I’ll take your measurements and arrange something. What’s your favourite colour?”
“...Yellow,” Rook admitted. “Like honey and butter. But… I don’t think I’d suit it.”
Lucanis watched him as if he was trailing a mark, careful not to be caught in pursuit.
“I hate to say it, as a Crow,” Teia smiled. Eyes tracing over Rook’s ash brown hair, his blue eyes, his pale if marred complexion. At a funeral for Crows, he wouldn’t be the only man in the room with scars. “But I think black suits you. Autumn colours, too. Red and gold. Although, you and Lucanis are around the same height. I can have something else of his altered if he’d prefer you to match.”
Rook glanced over as if he genuinely thought Lucanis might be considering it. Teia tried not to laugh.
“She’s joking,” Lucanis replied tightly. “Teia, I’ll pay for anything he needs.”
“Don’t be silly,” she replied, letting her smile rest on Rook. “Rook’s been a great help today. I don’t think I’d get anything done without him.”
“Teia,” Lucanis said, exasperated as he sounded with Illario sometimes. “Please don’t flirt with my colleagues.”
Teia raised her eyebrows. Was Lucanis Dellamorte jealous? Now, there was something else she hadn’t expected. “I hadn’t even started yet,” she replied. Normally, she would tease Lucanis a little more. He was usually so hard to get a rise out of. But… it was a delicate day for him. She’d leave him be. Wouldn’t make a single comment while she took Rook’s measurements.
And as she took the tape out from the cover of her journal and beckoned Rook to stand, Lucanis said something else. Staring down, lifting his wine to his mouth but still not drinking it.
“Teia,” he murmured. “A year ago… you sat in this room and did the same for me, didn’t you?”
“...Yes, we did,” Teia replied. “Hold still,” she added, as Rook turned to look towards Lucanis. She would be fast. “And your cousin was the same. He drank, he pretended he was not so distraught as he obviously was. He felt guilty, obviously. He was supposed to go on that job with you, yes?”
“Yes,” Lucanis replied quietly.
“And he was the only other person in Villa Dellamorte the night Caterina died,” Teia continued. “I know you have your differences, but…”
But what? They both knew that she and Viago couldn’t rule Illario out of their list of suspects yet. Antivans could forgive a lot of dramatic backstabbing of each other, but if Illario had really killed Caterina with the help of the woman who had imprisoned Lucanis… no, she didn’t think that would be forgiven.
“But he has missed you,” she said, stretching the tape along Rook’s arm. That was true, at least, even if Illario had tried to hide it. “He and Caterina disagreed about the funeral. Caterina wanted the world to come out for the death of her grandson, he said you’d prefer it to be small.”
“...I would have,” Lucanis admitted.
“It’s the only time I’ve ever seen him try to turn down a chance to be the centre of attention,” Teia said. “A close living relative, at a huge funeral for someone with few friends to pay tribute? No offence, of course.”
“None taken,” Lucanis replied. “Illario was always better with people.”
There were other ways to read what Illario had tried to do. Lucanis would know that too. Illario obviously wanted to be First Talon. A small funeral could be an attempt to shrink his cousin’s legacy. That was certainly why Caterina had wanted it to be grand, even as she believed she was burying someone other than her grandson. But tonight, Teia would be generous with the last two sons of House Dellamorte.
“They compromised, for once, and had a… relatively private memorial at the Cantori Diamond,” Teia replied, hands circling Rook’s waist. He stayed still, and stayed quiet. She bit her tongue on telling him he was being a good mannequin. It would only upset Lucanis. So would her second thought.
That privately, Caterina had seemed relieved. She’d held eleven memorials for children and grandchildren that she had outlived at Villa Dellamorte already. Her entire precious legacy, apart from those two boys.
And eventually, even steel might break.
“But every Talon was still there,” Teia continued, wearing a smile. “A hundred Crows. They lit a thousand candles in Villa Dellamorte. Caterina is rumoured to have shed a tear while she was reading the Chant for the Departed, although I didn’t see it myself. Viago had to drag Illario upstairs and lock him in one of the guest suites half way through the memorial because he was a mess. Shouting, sobbing, knocking glasses over.”
“...Really?” Lucanis murmured.
Viago told her what Illario had said before being violently sick in the ensuite, in between repeating the stories of childhood capers that he’d been rehearsing all evening through bloodshot eyes. It’s my fault he’s dead. She’d convinced him to write it off as drink and guilt, until now.
“I’ll make sure the suites for the three of you are on the ground floor, in case it happens again,” Teia said, forcing her voice to stay bright. “Viago won’t be happy if he has to carry anyone up any stairs again.”
Lucanis said nothing as she finished and stood up. He had his hand over his mouth, deep in thoughts Teia wanted to leave him to. She put a finger on Rook’s elbow.
“...Look after him, alright?” she said under her breath, pinning him with eyes she knew could be very persuasive. “He wouldn’t have brought you if he didn’t trust you. Keep him busy, if he insists, but he shouldn’t be alone at a time like this.”
“I know,” Rook replied quietly, holding himself from turning to look too obviously at Lucanis. “Thank you for everything you’ve done for him. I’m glad he still has friends who care about him here.”
Friend wasn’t how Teia thought Lucanis would describe her. Or Viago. Or anyone. If Rook was a colleague, so was everyone but his family. But the difference didn’t matter.
“See you in three days, Rook,” she replied.
Lucanis looked dazed as he stood. He tried to shake it from his eyes as he said his thanks and his goodbyes and led Rook to the door. Whether that haze was the demon or himself, it was still something she’d never seen in him before.
With a long sigh, Teia picked up her journal from the table. There was so much to do, and she hadn’t given herself a lot of time. It was a power play, a demand that all of Treviso drop everything to see the First Talon to her grave. Just like Caterina would have wanted. Without the Antaam, there would have been no question that they had the power to pull it off themselves. Now… well, she had a lot of favours to call in and she’d better start tonight.