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It felt more than a little surreal, to descend the blight tendril that had connected the Archon's palace to the rest of the city, looking into the hopeful, cautiously optimistic faces of their allies. The fighting in the streets had died down; everyone had felt it, the moment Elgar'nan died and the blight lost it's life, it's purpose.
But they didn't know for sure, not yet, not until Rook mustered a smile and a nod.
"We did it! It's done."
There was a moment of stillness, the world holding its breath as the collected forces processed her words, then whispers, as those in the front passed her words to those behind them, until a mighty cheer erupted from the crowd. They had lost lives in this fight, dear faces who would never look back at them again, but now they knew it had all been worth it. The gods were dead, and the blight to end all blights was over; there would not be another, not with every single Archdemon dead and gone.
The noise was deafening, like a beast with a life of its own, but it was joy, and happiness, and relief. This day was for celebration; there would be time enough for grief and sorrow and regret.
Lucanis felt Ceres sag lightly against his shoulder, and he put out his arm to steady her, holding her close o his side. Definitely not because he needed to feel her, to remind himself that she was real, that despite everything, they had both come out the other side alive. Alive, together.
She leaned more firmly against him, turning her head so she could smile at him, tired and bruised and happy, and all of a sudden, the rest of the world ceased to exist. He turned to face her, tightening his hold to pull her closer, and leaned in for a kiss, utterly uncaring who was watching. They had just killed a god, ended a blight and watched a friend miraculously return from almost certain death; they deserved this.
And Ceres didn't seem to mind, melting into him the moment their lips touched, kissing him like this was the first day of the rest of their lives.
Their work was not done, of course; there was rubble to clear, and wounded to find and take to a safer place; leftover Darspawn and Venatori yet roamed the streets, looking for a blade or a spell to end their sorry existence; and blight to burn away to make those same streets passable again.
It wasn't until they took a short break that he realized how tired he was, and a look to his side showed him that Ceres could barely keep her eyes open, leaning against a low wall for balance.
"Alright, that's enough. You've done enough," he declared, turning to frown at her. For a moment, she just blinked at him out of bleary eyes, dust and grime and blood clinging to her skin and clothes like a mask. Then her muth twitched, cracking the mask, and she offered him a lopsided grin.
"That bad, huh?"
He crossed his arms, wincing when the motion pulled at a cut. "You will always be beautiful to me, but right now, you look like death warmed over."
She chuckled, rubbed a hand over her face. "Alright, you win." And that was the most alarming sign, really; Rook was usually quite adamant about ignoring her own mortality. But maybe, with the death of the gods and the end of the blight, the mask of the unassailable leader was beginning to falter.
He slipped an arm around her waist, glancing around for their companions when his eyes snagged on Neve, not looking much better but still insisting on talking to the people they had just pulled from a collapsed building.
"I'm taking her home. Don't overdo it," he called over, earning himself a dry grin and a wave.
"I'll see you two later."
The walk back to the eluvian (now blessedly functional again) and through the crossroad seemed to take years, but eventually, they managed to drag themselves back into the Lighthouse. Lucanis was about to lead Ceres up to her room when she turned, making a beeline for the bathhouse.
He just stared after her in disbelief for a moment before he hurried to catch up.
"You are dead on your feet. You're going to fall asleep and drown in the bathtub."
They had reached the right corridor now. She turned her head to smirk at him. "So come with me and make sure I don't."
His breath caught, and he hesitated. It wasn't like the thought of following her into the bath wasn't appealing, but …
"… again, you are dead on your feet. I don't think - I wouldn't want - …"
She snorted. "Lucanis, I'm flattered, truly, and under any other circumstances, I would be excited to find out what we could get up to in there, but right now, I really just want to get all this blight off me. Don't you?"
"Oh." He really hoped the grime of the day hid the colour of his face just now. "Uhm, yes."
Chuckling, she reached for his hand. "Come on."
The door she led him to wasn't one he had ever noticed before, nor had he ever seen the room it opened up to. Unlike the baths he had made use of in the Lighthouse, this one was a large chamber with a big pool set into the tiled floor, with benches to the sides and a shower in the corner.
"I've never seen this room before, " he remarked somewhat baffled after the door closed at their backs.
"I don't imagine you were looking for communal baths," Rook offered by way of explanation as she began to unbutton her coat. "The Lighthouse does seem to react to our needs, after all." An uncommited hum was all the response he would muster as he watched her fumble with the straps that held her weapons.
"Here, let me."
He might not have entered the room with the intention of getting his hands on her, but he could still enjoy helping her out of her gear. With a grin, she reciprocrated, undoing the many straps and buckles holding his armor together. Bit by bit, they peeled each other out of their soiled garments, dropping the offending pieces into a pile in a corner. Each bared patch of skin revealed new cuts and bruises, evidence of a day spent fighting an army, a blight, and a god.
"You're a walking bruise - again," he muttered, brushing his fingers along the line of her shoulders. She shrugged, lifting the arm we wasn't currently touching. "I'll heal. None of this is enough to keep me down." Then she grinned, resting her palm on his chest as she leaned forward to press a soft kiss to his cheek.
"Time to wash up."
That was, apparently, what the shower in the corner was for: Rinsing off the worst of the grime before one entered the bath to soak. A simple lever released a surge of water from overhead, and a bar of soap was waiting inside a little recess in the wall.
He helped her with her hair, and her back, and anything else she might have trouble reaching, enjoying the feeling of her smooth skin under his fingertipsa and the way she hummed happily, leaning into his touch. It was a little embarassing how much he enjoyed her repaying the favour, but she made it clear that she didn't begrudge him what she called a perfectly natural reaction. There was a wicked glint in her eye when she wrapped her arms around his middle and leaned against his back, and he had to suppress a groan when he felt her breasts pressing again his skin.
"We should do this again some time when we're not quite so exhausted," she whispered into his ear, before stepping back with a smirk and walking into the pool of water.
Lucanis had to take a moment to breathe, thinking of cold water and unpleasant clients and possibly his grandmother before he followed her.
He had not expected to find benches inside the pool as well, but it was undeniably comfortable, to just sit and soak in the warmth of the mildly fragrant water, Ceres head on his shoulder and his arm around her waist.
He was close to dozing off himself when he noticed a delicate sniffling at his side. Straightening Sluggishly, he turned to actually look at his exhausted love.
"Ceres? What's wrong?" A cursory glance might have mistaken the tears running down her face for errant drops of water, if not for the way she kept trying to surreptitiously wipe her eyes.
"I don't know! It's not that I'm sad or anything, I just … can't seem to stop." A helpless chuckle turned into a sob, and he shifted to pull her more securely against him, cradling her head against his collarbone.
"It's alright," he whispered into her hair, "you can let go." So she did, holding on for dear life as she wept, sobbing and trembling in his arms as months of tension and worry and holding everything together caught up with her, cascading over her in waves of relief and exhaustion.
"'m sorry," she mumbled when her weeping began to subside, "I'm getting snot all over you."
"We're in a bath. It'll wash off." He tightened his arms aroung her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.
"You shouldn't have to deal with this …"
"Ceres, you just saved the world, you're allowed to fall apart for a little while. If anything, I feel priviliged that you trust me to fall apart in my presence."
Another helpless chuckle, then he felt the press of her lips on the base of his throat before she spoke again, words barely audible against his skin.
"If you say so."
The possibly ruined gear they had left by the entrance was gone when they finally dragged themselves out of the water, replaced by simple sleeping clothes and soft robes.
"These are not mine," he remarked, eyeing the carefully folded garments dubiously.
Rook chuckled. "No, the Lighthouse made these. I don't imagine they'll hold if you leave through the eluvian, but they're perfectly nice while you're here."
When she stumbled on the way to her room, he swung her up int his arms without comment, only putting her down again when he had reached her sleeping couch. She smiled at him with such fondness when he crawled in after her that his heart skipped a beat, chest constricting almost painfully as she wrapped her arms around him and snuggled against his chest. This was real.
His arm went around her back while he he buried his nose into her hair, breathing in her comforting scent, citrusy and sweet and a little spicy. He'd expected to lay awake for a while, captured by the feeling of her body pressed against his, the memora of her bare skin under his hands, but the day claimed its tribute almost as soon as he closed his eyes.
—-
When Ceres awoke the next morning, the space next to her was empty, only a faint imprint of warmth left to suggest that Lucanis had been there at all. The sluggishness of sleep left her in an instant as a thread of anxiety wrapped itself around her heart.
Where had he gone? Why was he gone, without telling her?
It was completely irrational to panic just because he had gotten up before her, of course. He was probably just making breakfast, or visiting the bathroom, or just getting clean clothes. But after everything they’d been through, waking up to find him gone was enough to give her a start.
Fortunately, he had planned for that.
As soon as she pushed herself into a sitting position, she spotted the note he had left on her bedside table.
Making breakfast. Don’t move.
The vise around her heart eased, and she smiled as she brushed her hands over his neat script. Then she put the note back and let herself sink down onto her pillow again, pulling the blanket up to her ears.
Might as well doze for a few more minutes until he came back.
It didn’t take long until she heard the door open and his quiet steps coming closer. He could move soundlessly when he chose to; that she heard him at all was a sign that he wanted her to notice him.
She straightened up with a smile, turning to watch him approach over the back of the couch.
“Good morning!”
His returning smile warmed the cold spot left by his absence.
“Good morning. I thought you might like some breakfast.”
She peered curiously at the tray he was carrying. The smell made her mouth water and her stomach suddenly remember that they had forgotten about dinner last night.
“Pancakes and ciocolatta calda? Ok, I forgive you for getting up without me, you’re the best.”
She had been about to say “marry me” instead, but Lucanis being Lucanis, he might not have taken it as a joke, and she was a little afraid of his answer.
They had never really talked about it - about what came after. After the gods were dead, after he had completed his contract. She didn’t think he wanted to leave her behind, but he would have to return to his other duties at some point, being First Talon and all.
He put the tray down on the sideboard behind the couch and sat down next to her, close enough to touch.
“I’m sorry; you were sleeping so peacefully that I didn’t want to wake you, and I thought you might be hungry when you did.”
“Well, I certainly am now,” she said, grabbing a pancake from the pile and rolling it up to fit into her palm. She leaned to the side as she started stuffing it into her mouth, bumping her shoulder against his to make him wrap his arm around her.
“Let me guess,” she asked between bites, “ you made enough for everyone?”
“It seemed cruel to leave the kitchen smelling of pancakes and then not leaving some for the others,” he admitted with a rueful smile. “I made a whole pile and put the leftover batter next to the stove.”
“See, this is why we kept you,” she teased, making him chuckle.
“Did you remember to have any yourself?”
“Ah…”
She snorted, handing him a pancake.
For a little while, they sat in comfortable silence as they ate, simply enjoying the warmth of each other’s company.
She was just licking a last bit of sugar from her fingers when he cleared his throat, shifting restlessly beside her.
“Ceres, I’ve been meaning to ask you something.”
She turned to face him, trying to quell the nervous flutter in her stomach.
“I know you want to help clearing out Minrathous, but once you feel like you're done with that, would you … consider coming back to Treviso with me?”
His free hand was fidgeting with the blanket, and the shoulder she was leaning against had grown tense, even as she felt her own nervousness bleed away, replaced by a different kind of excitement.
“I mean, I don’t exactly have a place in Minrathous anymore, and I don’t know if the Caretaker would just let me squat in the Lighthouse indefinitely -”
“You will always have a home with me,” he blurted quickly, and she could no longer suppress her smile, feeling it spread over every inch of her face.
“I would like that. Very much,” she relented softly, watching relief and happiness wash over his face before he leaned in to kiss her.
She loved kissing him. Loved the way his lips moved against hers, the way his hand slid into her hair, the way his breath warmed her face. Loved the little sigh he made at the start, always, like he was finally home; loved the way he held her close.
But right now, kissing him was not enough.
Intellectually, she knew that they were safe; that despite it all, they had emerged alive and victorious. But it didn’t seem real, not quite, not yet.
She needed to feel it if she was to believe it. Needed to feel that they were alive, together. That he still wanted her around. That she could keep him. Needed to feel his skin, his hands, his lips, everything, everywhere.
And judging by the way he answered her increasingly hungry kisses, he did, too.
There was no hesitation this time, no slowing down to make sure that this was ok, that it was wanted. She trusted him to tell her if it was too much, too fast.
When she leaned back, he followed, sliding down with her until he caught himself on the edge of the couch. Shifted his weight with a soft groan when she ran her tongue over his lower lip to the edge of his mouth so he could slide his hand down her side.
There was something reverent in the way he touched her, not like he was afraid he’d hurt her, but like he still couldn’t believe she was real and he was allowed to put his hands all over her.
Though that didn’t stop him from remembering with startling precision all the little things that made her gasp and squirm and moan.
He paused after slowly kissing his way down her throat to kick off his boots, and she took the opportunity to begin working on his shirt. He had blessedly foregone the vest and lapel pins this morning, but there was still an infuriating number of tiny buttons to be opened before she could run her hands over his chest.
In contrast, she was still wearing nothing but her nightshirt, which found its way onto the floor in short order.
His beard tickled as he resumed showering her with kisses, sending goosebumps all over her skin.
She arched into him when she felt his tongue running circles around one nippel, buttons momentarily forgotten. It was very difficult to focus on getting rid of his shirt this way, but she wouldn’t dream of asking him to stop.
He moved as if he wanted to map every inch of her with his lips, and she would gladly be his canvas. She’d always known he noticed the little things, paid attention to the minutiae of the world around him, but having that attention to detail focused on herself still took her breath away.
His touch was like fire on her skin, igniting something deep inside her.
There were other things she wouldn’t mind having deep inside her, too.
She moaned, straining against his touch when he ran his hand along the inside of her thigh, wanting his clever fingers just a little higher, just a little to the left.
“So impatient,” he murmured, and she could feel his smile on her skin.
“I’ll show you impatient,” she muttered into his hair, sliding her hands down his chest until she could slip her fingers under the waistband of his pants, making him groan as he ground his hips against her.
She wasn’t the only one panting now.
“You will be the death of me,” he breathed against her throat.
“Maybe just a little one,” she whispered against his forehead, earning herself a different kind of groan and a breathless huff of laughter.
She forgot how to shape words for a little while after that, when he slid his fingers under her smalls and between her folds to make her mind go blank. Her muscles tensed under his strokes, slow and deliberate and right there, limbs growing taut in response to the pressure against her clit. He picked up the pace when he felt her strain against his palm, swallowing the increasingly desperate noises falling from her lips in a kiss while she clawed at the upholstery beneath her, holding on for dear life.
“Lucanis!” she moaned when his mouth found her throat again, sucking on the tender skin, deliberately renewing the mark he'd left before everything went sideways. When she felt him licking the spot he’d just made, it was enough to push her over her edge, back arching off the couch as she felt wave upon wave of pleasure rolling through her, crashing against his touch.
She clutched him tight while stars danced behind her eyes, the heat of his skin and the rise and fall of his chest like an anchor in a broiling sea.
He kept up the pressure until all that tension had ebbed out of her limbs, leaving her blissfully relaxed, feeling as if she might just melt away. His fingers slid out of her just as he pressed a soft kiss over her heart, and she ran a languid hand over his spine with a contented hum.
Only when he pulled her smalls over her hips did she remember that he was still wearing a frankly scandalous amount of clothing. As soon as he was close enough, she set to work on his belt, running her hand over his pressing need when she had his pants open.
“Ceres,” he rasped hoarsely, leaning his forehead against hers, and she pressed a quick kiss to his lips before shifting her grip to his hips, directing him to roll over.
“My turn,” she whispered into his ear before she helped him out of his pants and smalls. He stared at her in wonder when she moved to straddle him, dark and glassy eyes half lidded over parted lips.
She ran her hands in lazy circle over his chest, following the lines of his muscles, mapping his scars with her fingertips. He was beautiful, and she was going to show him exactly why she liked it so much when he touched her like this.
Lips pulled up into a wicked grin, she leaned forward, resting her weight on her hands to either side of him as she kissed a slow path down from his temple over the curve of one ear. The tip of her tongue flicked against his earlobe as he let out a breathless whimper, continuing her slow exploration down his throat, along his collarbone, over his chest.
His breathing had grown ragged by the time she reached his hips, and she felt his hand tightening in her hair when she continued downward, hips bucking against her with a moan when she placed a single kiss on his tip.
“Ceres, slow down,” he panted, tugging her upward.
She lifted her head to meet his eyes. “Not good?”
His answer was a breathless huff of laughter. “No, too good.”
There was a strange rush in watching him slowly come undone beneath her touch, knowing that he trusted her enough to let go, every little twitch and gasp, every laboured breath and frantic beat of his pulse telling her how much he enjoyed her attention.
She smirked, softly brushing her lips over his skin as she made her way back up and his grip on her relaxed, until she reached his lips again and he pulled her into a greedy kiss, tasting the last sugar on her tongue.
She stayed like this until he regained some of his composure, careful to keep her hips off him. When he moved one hand down her side and between her legs, she moaned into his mouth, leaning into his touch until she could feel the heat building in her core again.
In response, she ran her own hand down his chest and over his stomach, pausing just before she reached his neglected arousal.
“Ready?” she whispered, breaking the kiss.
“Yes,” he answered breathlessly, and she straightened, guiding him to her entrance until she could replace his clever fingers with his cock, slowly sinking down on him. His hands found her hips as he moaned at the feeling of her around him, grasping her tight.
Maker’s breath, he felt so right in there, filling her with heat.
His fingers dug into her skin when she started to move, carefully rolling her hips against him. He sighed, almost keening, when she built her rhythm, agonizingly slow at first, her own building tension beginning her to hurry, to move.
She felt his muscles strain as he struggled not to buck his hips against her, both of them burning with need when she picked up the pace.
“Ceres…” he groaned, hands moving over her thighs, her waist, her hips.
“Almost…there…” she panted, nearly sobbing when he shifted his grip to press his thumb against her clit, grinding against her bud until she crashed, feeling his release following on her heels as she clenched around him, both of them greeting the sweet relief with a wordless cry.
She rolled her hips a few more times for good measure as she rode out her own high, stopping only when she felt his hands relax against her. They both stilled for a moment after that, waiting for the world to stop spinning while their labored breathing slowed.
Then he lurched upward, wrapping his arms around her as he pulled her into a sloppy kiss, crashing his lips against hers until they both had to catch their breath again.
He lifted one hand to cradle her cheek as he tipped his forehead against hers, staring into her eyes like she was the sun and the moon and everything in between.
“That was…”
“Pretty nice?” She felt her lips pulling into a grin, wide and reckless.
“Very nice,” he chuckled, pressing a quick kiss to the tip of her nose before he let himself fall backward, pulling her down with him. She nuzzled her head into the crook of his neck with a happy sigh.
She could stay like this forever, muscles languid with bliss and exhaustion while he held her in a tight embrace, his warm breath tickling her ear.
Or until her legs cramped up.
It took some time until they finally disentangled themselves, gentle kisses and the soft caress of tired hands slowing their progress. By the time they had cleaned up and put at least some clothing back on, both pancakes and drinks had gone entirely cold.
But that’s what magic was for.
And she knew that she should get out of bed properly, get all the way dressed and talk to the remainder of her team, but for now, all she wanted was to curl up with him again, feel his arms around her and his heartbeat on her skin.
For once, she wasn’t responsible for saving the world, so the world could wait.
They had the rest of their lives to figure out what came next.