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Emmrich sat at the foot of the bed watching as Manfred chittered excitedly, scurrying out of the depth of the closet with yet another matched belt and jewellery set, and into the mirrored bathing room. They would have to leave soon if they wanted to be on time for the Hunt Ball Lucanis had planned for Sabine’s birthday, but he didn’t want to rush her. Formalwear was the one frivolous indulgence Sabine allowed herself and he was more than happy to enable her. When he knew she was fully preoccupied, he slipped a long, shallow wooden box from under the folded coverlet, and followed Manfred into the storm.

The bathing room’s long counters were covered in piles of furs and swaths of rainbow hued fabrics, all glittering with haphazardly strewn jewels and gold. If he didn’t know better, he almost would have wondered if a small dragon had taken up residence in his apartments. His betrothed stood in the middle of the whirlwind holding up a set of gowns that looked like they were pulled from the pages of a manuscript.

He made a mental note to try convincing Sabine to explore fashions that could at least be considered ‘vintage’. Though to her credit, fashion trends didn’t move very quickly in the necropolis, and the classical styles did complement her grave gold quite beautifully. Leaning in the doorway, he smiled at the skeleton, “Thank you Manfred, you’ve done a wonderful job. I believe I can finish helping our lovely Bee get ready, if you’d like to look through your new books in the study.” The skeleton clapped his hands happily and hurried out of the room.

Sabine let out an exaggerated groan. “My love! What am I supposed to wear? Lucanis didn’t give any instructions and there’s no theme!” Her long absinthe green dressing gown swirled around her legs as she spun to face him. Another smile lit his face as he held out the box for her, “Well, my darling, I expect something that will go with this. I took the liberty of commissioning a new set for your birthday, so you’d have some inspiration for the party.” Lifting the lid, Sabine was met with an ornate gold broad collar worked in an ancient Nevarran style, matching thick gold cuffs, and a long coiled gold belt nestled in the dark velvet lining. Her jaw dropped.

”Emmrich… These are exquisite, how long have you been planning this? They look just like the ones I catalogued down in the deep vaults!” Carefully setting the box down, she launched herself into his arms, laying soft kisses along his jaw then kissed him deeply. His hands settled on her waist, bunching the soft fabric of her dressing gown and pulled her close. “Well, you did seem very excited about them when you got back, and your sketches were quite detailed. It’s my pleasure to spoil you,” he said in a lowered voice. He slid his hand slowly up her ribs teasing circles with his thumb and swiping along the curve of her plush breast. His lips found hers again, and Sabine tangled her fingers in his hair as they lost themselves in the kiss.

“Have I told you lately that you are an absolutely delectable man, and I love when you spoil me?” She leaned in on tiptoes, fully pressing herself against him to kiss along his jaw, and then sank her teeth into the curve of his neck. Emmrich groaned and backed Sabine to the dressing table, which had somehow managed to stay clear of the glittering hoard. He lifted her on to the counter then deftly loosened the knot of her dressing gown. The velvet slipped down her shoulders revealing the rivers of colorful tattoos that swirled over her skin.

“Vixen. The things you do to me.” She let out a soft moan when he hooked her leg over one arm holding her wide for him, the other hand’s clever fingers beginning to work her clit and tease her already wet entrance. She squirmed, trying to grind down on his hand searching for more friction. “Big talk for a man with all his buttons still done up, my love.”

He gave a low chuckle in the crook of her neck, “Darling, I’m not sure we have the time. We do need to leave soon, and you are still not dressed,” punctuating the last part by plunging two long fingers deep inside her with a tantalising curl. She clung to him as he worked her closer to her high. A flush crept across her skin and he peppered kisses down to her breasts, taking each rosy nipple between his lips swirling his tongue and sucking.

Her eyes were closed and head thrown back, her walls beginning to flutter around his fingers when he pulled away with a wry grin. An indignant cry left her at the loss, and she glared up at him. She quickly shifted tactics, batting her eyes saccharine sweet, “Love please, don’t tease me on my birthday.” She took his hand, sliding his wet fingers into her mouth, licking them clean. With a firm suck, she released the digits with a loud pop and gazed at him through her lashes. “You can worship me later. I promise I’ll be quick, and even if we’re late it’s my party. Lucanis won’t mind. I need you.” Staring down at her, his reservations began to crumble.

Sabine pulled him close again, placing his hand around her neck. Instinctively he tightened his grip, her answering gasp stoked his desire and he sank back in to kiss her harder and deeper than before. She began undoing the buttons of his breaches, ruining his perfectly tucked shirt, and pulling his length free. Emmrich groaned as she stroked him fully hard. Holding the column of her throat tighter, he put a hand over hers slicking his tip against her before he pushed in, slow and deep.

Sabine wrapped her legs around him and dug her nails into his lower back as he began to move inside her. His long strokes had him pulling nearly out before fully seating himself within her again, over and over. She let her head loll back, eyelids fluttering, and a smile crept across her lips. “Harder, my love, fuck me.” she gasped. He came undone, his careful rhythm slipping as he drove into her with firm, fast strokes, fingers digging into the plush curve of her ass. A necklace clattered to the floor, knocked free of its precarious fabric pile. She began to feel lightheaded as heat built in her core, her fingers flexing as she neared her limit preparing to tap out, but she was so close.

Emmrich saw her brow furrow just slightly. With a nip to the flushed shell of her ear, he whispered, “Cum for me, my beautiful Bee.” And she did. Fire washed through her in waves, all her muscles clenched as she held Emmrich to her. He followed quickly after with a deep groan, her orgasm milking his pleasure out. He placed a gentle kiss on her forehead and rubbed her throat, gently working his healing magic over the imprint of his hand.

Sabine leaned back against the mirror and gave a small laugh. “How lucky am I to get two fantastic necklaces in one evening…” Emmrich huffed. “And how lucky I am that you’re beautiful and witty.” He gave her a stern look before cracking into a smile. She hopped off the dressing table and gave him a big grin. “Let’s finish getting ready. We need to leave soon if we don’t want to be late, and you’re not dressed yet.”

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The pair stepped through the eluvian arm in arm. The rich dark fabric of their outer layers swirled around them. Deep fur lined hoods protected them first from the chill of the Necropolis, and now the icy streets of Treviso. As they hurried their way through the packed streets, they looked for all the world like spectres amongst the more colorful celebrants. Every now and again Sabine thought she could pick out a Crow in the crowd from the glints of sharp silver, costumes bedecked with leather and feathers, sporting fantastical beaked masks.

The Wintersend celebrations of the city really were nothing like those of the Necropolis. It felt like everybody in Treviso had decided to have one large party along the canals, even spilling out onto the river itself. The large Ice Market bustled below them as they crossed the main bridges of the city center, skaters zipped between the vibrant shoppers and shop keepers hawked their wares. The scent of spiced wine, roasted nuts, and well seasoned meat wafted up on the frigid breeze.

As they neared the Dellamorte estate, the crowds began to thin and the costumes of those wandering the streets became more uniform. Sabine was certain at least some of these Crows would head out on contracts tonight, not even a holiday would stop the flow of business. The grounds, though grey with winter, were still stunning. They could see that work had been done to repair much of the damage caused by first the Antaam, and then the dragon. Sabine even thought she saw several new statues across the gardens, one of which resembled a strikingly familiar flame wielding skeleton…

Two Crows stationed outside the main entrance ushered them in under the glow of lamp light. The entrance hall was as grand as Sabine remembered, though much more cheerful. She let out a gasp when she took her hood off, finally able to see the extent of the decorations. Crystal glittered from every surface, and layers of airy chiffon hung suspended from the ceiling dancing gently. It looked for all the world as though a snow storm had blown through— if snow storms were incredibly rich…

A Fledgling waited to take their cloaks, and Emmrich bent to whisper in Sabine’s ear, “He’s been planning this for months and decorating for at least two weeks, which is why I’ve kept you too busy to visit.” Warmth curled through her at the thought of her best friend planning this surprise, especially knowing how much he hated attending parties. Grinning up at Emmrich, she grabbed his arm and started to pull him to the staircase “Oh, I bet he’s been a fiend in the kitchens. We better not keep him waiting any longer then!”

The illusion of being surrounded by swirling snow grew as they ascended the stairs. Another Crow, this time bearing a silver capped staff, stood ready to open the way again. The doors swung wide and he tapped the staff on the marble floor, the sound carrying through the room with the murmur of voices dulling as he announced, “Professor Emmrich Volkarin, Senior Mourn Watcher of the Grand Necropolis of Nevarra accompanying Mistress Sabine Ingellvar of the Mourn Watch, Leader of the Veilguard.” A chorus of claps and shouts of “Happy Birthday” echoed through the ballroom as the pair stepped down from the entry dais towards the waiting Lucanis.

Sabine pulled the man into a fierce hug, kissing each cheek in familiar greeting. “Lucanis, you have absolutely outdone yourself! How did you manage to keep all this a secret, Taash and Davrin can’t keep their mouths shut to save their life.”

He laughed, still holding her in the hug, “And that is why they found out last! I think they’re at the sideboard if you would like to go say hello. Or get something to eat before it all vanishes, you’d think they starve between visits with how much they eat.”

She gave him another softer smile, tapping the tip of his nose, “We’ve spoiled them. Everyone knows you and I are the best cooks in all of Thedas, they have to get it while they can since we aren’t all at the Lighthouse anymore. And if I know you—” her gaze and tone turned playfully stern, hands resting high on his chest, “and I most definitely do— you’ll have gone above and beyond this evening. If I don’t get to taste every single thing tonight, I might have to start a fight, and that’s the last thing we want.”

He noticed her eyes flash with the light of the chandeliers, and he wondered if she knew quite how much like a wild hunting cat she looked like when it happened. Even Davrin and Bellara’s eyes didn’t look so intense, and they were Dalish. He supposed it was because the depths of the necropolis were that much closer to the Fade. Either way it made him shiver, and not just with fear…

“Speak for yourself!” A woman’s voice came from behind Lucanis, “Teia don’t encourage them. My money is on Rook though… they’re almost as good as a de Riva with that dagger.”

Lucanis released Sabine as she eagerly greeted Teia and Viago. “That’s quite the compliment Viago, I’m not sure I deserve it, but I’ll take it anyway! It’s so good to see you both, and you look stunning Teia!” Sabine had gotten used to seeing Teia’s expanded wardrobe now that the city wasn’t under constant threat, but each piece still dazzled her. She had gone all out this evening with a floor length rich midnight blue gown that was covered in enough small gems and silver work to bankrupt every jeweler in Treviso. Viago matched her well enough, though less ostentatiously, so Sabine assumed they must be ‘on again’.

Teia gave their hand a friendly squeeze, “Don’t worry, I’ll get you the name of my tailor. But you have more exciting things to think about this evening! Vi and I left a little something for you over there, for later.” She gestured to a low table on the far end of the room, piled with ornately wrapped boxes.

Sabine’s eyes lit up, “Oh that’s so sweet, thank you!” Teia and Viago chatted with the trio for a few more minutes before excusing themselves and drifting back into the crowd. Emmrich’s eyes drifted out across the heads of the guests, landing on an elegant square hat. “It would seem that Neve and Bellara have found their way to the sideboard with Taash and Davrin. Shall we make our way over?” He offered his arm to Sabine, which she took, and the three went to join their friends.

Bellara was the first to spot them, and gave an excited squeal. “Oh my goodness, Sabine you look so beautiful! And you too of course Emmrich. Oooohhh these are new aren’t they? And happy birthday!” She pulled Sabine into a big hug and continued to admire her ensemble. Neve squeezed Sabine’s hand and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek before Davrin and Taash whisked her up into equally dramatic bear hugs.

Safely back on the floor, braids still jingling, the necromancer pointed her finger at the two of them. “I swear to the Maker, if I don’t get to try everything Lucanis made—“ Taash interrupted with an overly dramatic sniff, “We figured you’d be late since the two of you are living back at the Necropolis together.” Davrin handed her a plate full with items from the tables lining the wall.

Sabine immediately snatched up a little chocolate covered ball of dough, popping the whole thing in her mouth with a delighted moan. “Lucanis, how much do I have to pay you to just live in our apartment and make profiteroles…”

The whole group laughed, “As much as I would love to be your personal chef, I cannot do that and run the Crows. Although I’m sure that would be much more enjoyable.”

With her sweet tooth sated, they drifted towards the bar. Each of their requests was quickly fulfilled by the assembled team of servants; crystal glasses of wine and liquor, and tall mugs of beer lining the bar top. Sabine swirled her glass, full with a milky green liquid that unnervingly resembled Veilfire and gave off a sickly sweet aroma that wavered between the semi floral scent of an herb garden in high summer and a very violent liquorice. She paused briefly with the glass at her lips before downing it entirely, and sat it on the bar to be refilled.

Taash cringed, “I don’t know how you can drink that, it smells worse than the remedies Tama would make for me. And doesn’t it do stuff to you like those truffles Assan likes?"

Sabine chuckled, “It’s definitely an acquired taste, but no, absinthe doesn’t do that any more than a nice whiskey would.” She sipped the second glass more slowly, savouring the taste. “Besides, if no one else likes it, there’s more for me. Learned that pretty quickly in the dorms!”

Emmrich smiled into his glass, “You’re certainly right about that. The more popular your drink of choice, the more likely it is to vanish of it’s own accord. Johanna helped herself liberally to my supply in our school years…” He slipped an arm around Sabine’s waist and she relaxed into him.

Neve gave them a wicked grin, “So you two lovebirds are properly engaged now, isn’t that right?” She held out her hand, and Sabine returned the gesture, showing off the new ring among her collection of grave gold. “It’s a gorgeous ring, you’ve got excellent taste, Emmrich. Have you started planning yet?”

“Thank you Neve, I think it captures many of Bee’s own charms. I believe we’re leaning towards a traditional Nevarran ceremony. It seems fitting for the Necropolis to witness our vows in place of our parents as we’re both Watchers.”

Sabine gave his hand a quick squeeze, “And Vorgoth has agreed to officiate, with Keepsake and Curio acting on behalf of the Necropolis.”

“Wait, when you say acting on behalf of the Necropolis, what do you mean exactly? You’re not saying it’s sentient right? I think I’ve had more than enough of that recently…” Bellara shuddered.

“Well, yeah, sort of. It’s not like it actually speaks, but the Fade has enough influence on it that it acts sort of like the Lighthouse. That’s why sections sometimes rearrange themselves, or flat out disappear, and stuff just kind of happens. Didn’t you notice when we visited?”

“I mean, yeah, but I figured it was just weird Fade-touched Necromancy stuff, since the Veil is thinner there, the same way Arlathan is weird Elvhen magic. Although I guess Arlathan is also a little sentient, or at least super haunted…”

Sabine nodded, “You’re definitely right on that point. The Necropolis is more active than Arlathan though, and way more invested. If you swear an oath or make a bet and invoke it, doesn’t matter if you’re physically there or not, it will hold you to it— at least if you’re a Watcher. Sometimes you can get it to release you from whatever you’ve promised. I had a classmate, an absolute clown who almost flunked out, who spent a whole month tending candles and praying after they joked they’d take a vow of silence if they managed to pass the final exam…”

Bellara gasped, “Wait, so how did the Necropolis keep them from talking?”

“They bit their tongue every time they tried to say anything besides ‘Hail the Watchful Dead’. It was a very long month…” Sabine finished her drink, sitting the glass on the bar again. “I’ve also been brushing up on my dancing, and the quartet Lucanis hired has been incredible so far, so who’s going to come dance with me!” She looked expectantly around the group, Davrin threw his hands up in mock surrender, “I’m about as graceful as a newborn Halla, but I’ll cheer you on from over here.”

Lucanis nodded his head to Emmrich, “I won’t impose on your first dance of the evening, but I would be a terrible host if I didn’t take a turn with you on your birthday.”

Emmrich finished his drink, and taking Sabine’s hand, led them to the floor as the Bandmaster called a Branle and other couples began to circle up.

Chapter Text

Somewhere in the city the hour struck three, bells echoing across the still packed streets and canals. Those in the Dellamorte estate circled the ballroom with little regard for the time. Davrin had given up the pretense of not dancing and had paired with Neve, on the far end of the room Illario had convinced Bellara to take a turn, and Emmrich was teaching Taash the steps to the next dance.

Sabine smells. Like wormwood and chartreuse. And Emmrich. Sweat and musk. Both delicious. 

The press of bodies had grown through the night, now taking up most of the hall, Lucanis and Sabine at their center. Pairs swirled rapidly with the music, weaving amongst each other; with each high lilt of the violin the floor became a great shining wave as the ladies were lifted and spun. The murmur of conversation flitted by as the dancers flew across the floor. 

Listen to how she jingles! Prettier music than the band. She is so pretty and shiny. She would sing when we kissed them.

Lucanis knew he had overstepped the bounds of propriety, this was their third dance together, and they were not courting. No, she was engaged; but Emmrich didn’t seem bothered by their attention towards the younger man, had even encouraged them to enjoy each other’s company. And Lucanis couldn’t deny them when she had asked, wouldn’t deny them, when she was so full of joy. 

Sabine likes us. She is happy to be near us. Both of us. We should tell them. Let me talk to Rook. If you are too scared.

This late into the evening, everyone was well into their cups. The dancing was still graceful, elegant, but not quite as crisp. No one noticed the way she pressed herself against him during the lift, bodies sliding together, or the way his hands lingered at their waist as the dance continued. But who would be foolish enough to call the First Talon out for his impropriety in his own home, impose their foolish assumptions on these two friends, even if they had seen?   

She feels so good. Soft and warm. We could hold them. Curl up in front of the fire. Like we did at the Lighthouse.

The round came to a close with the final notes of the music tapering off, the dancers applauded and thanked their partners as they left the floor. There would be at least fifteen minutes before the next dance was called, allowing the crowd more than enough time to flock for refreshments at the sideboard and bar.

“Did you want to grab a drink?” Sabine asked as they joined the crowd “I’d like to check in with Emmrich, see how he and Taash are doing.”

Lucanis grinned, “I have the perfect thing, follow me.” He took their hand, lacing his fingers with theirs, and veered off towards the table of gifts, which was blessedly less crowded. He didn’t see the subtle pink shift over their cheeks, but that didn’t stop Spite from chuckling, enraptured with them as he had been this evening. “Now, close your eyes and hold out your hands. Steady, it has some weight.”

Sabine obeyed, a smile flickering across their lips. Lucanis pulled an old wooden box from behind the greater pile, not large but too sturdy to be called small, and placed it in their outstretched hands. They sagged slightly as she adjusted to the weight, and keeping their eyes closed, began to feel the carvings on the box.

“Do you have any guesses before you open your eyes?” He had moved closer, his voice low and soft. She could just barely feel the warmth radiating from him.

“The wood has that light, almost dusty, feeling of something very old. No hinges though, and I can’t feel the seam of a lid. The carvings feel familiar,” she began to map the pattern in their mind, “hexes and skulls. The scroll border is different, not Nevarran. It’s definitely an antique though.”

Spite’s fingers traced over the box, just as Sabine’s did. She is very good at this. Their touch is so soft. She could touch us like this. If you would just talk to them.

“Open your eyes.” She did so with a gasp.

Their assessment had been correct. The wood, while still firm, was airy and had silvered with age. The carvings were smooth and well defined, clearly master craftsmanship, and many were distinctly Nevarran. The scrollwork, now that she was looking, bore several elements she had seen while travelling the streets of Treviso. As she turned the box to inspect it more closely, its contents thudded softly. She could just make out the join of the lid and slid it from the base to reveal an ornate green glass bottle and an engraved silver cup, both in antique Nevarran style.

Sabine lifted the bottle from where it was nested and Lucanis took the box, removing the cup before setting it back with the other gifts.

“I know Emmrich likes to search out new wines for you to try, but I’m certain you haven’t had this one. Would you like me to open it?” She nodded, handing the bottle over. He took his dagger from its place at his waist and carefully broke the wax seal along the top of the bottle. Lifting the glass cap he revealed its cork and removed it with a clever twist. They were met with the strong scent of fermented honey and a lighter more floral scent.

“Oh it’s a mead! Honey wines are one of my favourites. They’re particularly popular in Nevarra, mostly because of the bees, especially during festival season.”

Spite hummed with pleasure. She likes it. And it smells like Sabine. Delicious herbs and florals. We could drink them. Like they drink their mead.

“I’ve done my best to prepare Taash for this next dance, but let’s hope that whomever their partner is, they’ll have enough skill to make up for their enthusiasm…” Emmrich said as he approached the pair.

“Oh, my love! You’re just in time. Lucanis just opened the most intriguing bottle of mead for us to try”, she said, taking a long sip from the intricate silver goblet. Navigating past the last few bodies crowding the grand hall, Emmrich slid up beside Sabine flicking his eyes over to just beside Lucanis where Spite stood, and smiled at them. He rested a hand on Sabine’s waist and expertly scooped up the goblet with the other. Giving the wine a gentle swirl, he took a deep sniff, his face a thoughtful mask. He savoured the first small sip before going back for a proper drink.

“Well gourmand, what’s the verdict” Lucanis joked with a wry grin on his face.

“I have to say, this is unlike anything I’ve ever encountered! It’s spiced more like an ice wine might be, but still has the light nearly floral honey flavor of traditional mead, and it’s not too sweet. Lucanis, where did you manage to find this?”

Lucanis lit up, shifting forward as he launched into the tale, “I’m sure you’ve noticed we’ve been doing renovations around the estate. Mostly cleaning up Venatori and Antaam hideouts, repairs from the dragon damage, and the like. We recently came across a massive wine cellar, and quite old too, the walls looked like it may have originally been a cavern. Most of the racks were wooden, and had rotted and collapsed. All their bottles were broken. However, tucked in the far back corner was this small wooden chest with a perfectly intact bottle!”

“You, my friends,” he said taking the proffered goblet, “have the pleasure of trying the only surviving bottle meant to seal a trade agreement between the Crows and Nevarra… during the Steel Age”, before taking his own long drink, a single amber droplet sparkling at the corner of his mouth.

The Necromancers both stood slack jawed. Several emotions flashed across Sabine’s face before settling into exasperation. Pinching the bridge their, she let out a deep full body sigh, the kind usually reserved for when she dealt with overzealous students on explorations in the deeper levels of the Necropolis.

“Lucanis. Are you telling me that this bottle is three centuries old? And not only has it somehow not gone to vinegar, we’re just drinking it?!” Their voice pitching higher before catching it, switching to a sharp whisper, “Lucanis, that wine is old enough to be a RELIC!” 

He let out a low chuckle, refilling the goblet and passing it back to them. “I figured it would be the perfect birthday gift for our favourite Necromancer, no offence Emmrich. And besides it’s Wintersend, don’t you Nevarrans go all out? How many times have you told me about the Hunt Balls? Surely this is the best I can do to celebrate you while you’re away from home.” His smile reached his eyes again, flickering between earnestness and something… much more playful. 

“Yes! Only the best for our favorite!” Eyes flashing purple as Spite chimed in for Sabine’s benefit.

Maker this was going to be a long night. 

“Ugh, fine, if you insist. But I’m keeping the bottle to study later.” She took another long, long drink. 

“Oh of course, and the goblet too. We wouldn’t want to separate them after so long together!” Lucanis’s eyes glittered with mischief.

Sabine immediately began examining the intricate patterns on the vessel, interwoven stylized designs that edged between angular and organic. A thought nudged at the back of their alcohol fogged mind, but no, no this was their party, their birthday for spirit’s sake, not the time to engage in scholarly pursuits. 

“Please Lucanis, you can’t just keep dropping archaeological bombshells on me while I’m drinking. I’ll get in my head and then it’s off to my notebooks, then how would I enjoy this wonderful party you’ve thrown!” giggling, she leaned over to bump shoulders with the assassin, wobbling a little as their drinks started to catch up with them, and needing to lean into him for support.

She passed the goblet back to Emmrich, which Lucanis promptly topped off. 

“Well, darling, potential archaeological impacts aside, I think it’s fascinating! And a deeply appropriate gift for our favourite Necromancer,” he said giving Lucanis a wink. “I mean just think about it, the Pentaghasts solidified their claim on the throne and Nevarra as its own stable nation during the Steel Age! Even the name itself, Steel Age, had to do with the assassination of Queen Madrigal by the Crows. It’s such a curious thing though, to have them perfectly preserved, just sitting in a long forgotten cellar. It raises so many questions!” He tipped the goblet back, finishing it off once more. “But here I am getting carried away as well! Let’s call it serendipity that it can finally be shared by Nevarrans and Crows, after so many years.”

“An excellent toast Emmrich!” Lucanis said, taking the goblet to fill once again before raising it, “to Nevarra and the Crows, our lovey lady of the hour, and the best company a man and his demon could ask for!” He downed the wine, then poured the last of the bottle into the silver cup for Sabine. 

She took it, briefly lost in the warmth of the moment. The hall buzzed with music, the rustle of elegant winter gowns, and murmured conversation. Warm light radiated from sconces and grand candlelit chandeliers, their flickering glow reflecting off of the hall’s large mirrors and the ornate silver-work the Crows were so fond of. Decadent swathes of fabric and crystal drawing everything together like a perfectly wrapped gift. Lucanis truly had spared no expense. Their heart felt so full— she felt so loved.

She looked up at both of the men, their betrothed and their best friend. “Thank you. Both of you.” She stood on tip toes to press a kiss to Emmrich’s cheek and gave Lucanis’s hand a firm squeeze, fingers laced. “This is the best birthday I’ve ever had; and my first with anyone I could call family. The past few years have been hellish, first with The Banners and my exile, then killing Gods. But I wouldn’t change any of it. I wouldn’t have you all otherwise.” The flush on her cheeks grew a shade darker as she gained a sudden deep interest in the marble floor. Clearing their throat, she raised the glass slightly, “To us. May our bonds last longer than the memory of Necropolis!”

The men watched as Sabine downed the last of the wine, their throat bobbing just so. Their braids, even more elaborate than usual, glittered with gold bands that clinked against their grave gold. A gentle flush crept across their collar bones down to the swell of their breasts (though neither man would admit to staring). Lucanis glanced away as she lowered the cup and Emmrich pulled them in for a kiss, voice low and rough. “My dear, have I told you how radiant you look this evening?”

Lucanis…

At the touch of his lips Sabine’s mind burst into stars. Had Emmrich smelled quite so— intoxicating earlier? His kiss deepened and he held them close. Their skin felt like coals in a furnace, suddenly dizzy, she gripped his arms to keep from tilting sideways. She pulled away, laying their forehead against his chest with a small laugh. “Either my tolerance has dropped or that wine was incredibly strong! My love, would you get me a glass of water? I think I might need a little air.”

The smells. They are so strong!

He kissed the top of their head, “Of course darling. Lucanis, if you’d be so kind, I’ll be back in just a moment.” Lucanis took their arm as Emmrich wove back into the crowd, guiding them to a sheltered balcony. The night air was cool against their skin, but she still felt like she was on fire. The pair sat on a bench facing the Dellamorte estate’s gardens, and Sabine took in a deep breath. “Sorry, I haven’t been this drunk in a while. I don’t mean to take you away from the party. You really did a wonderful job, it’s beautiful.” Lucanis held their gaze for several breaths before saying, “It’s not my party. Besides, you know I’m not one for crowds.” 

Lucanis. Sabine smells like she is MADE of honey. Fields of flowers. She is dripping with sweetness. 

He noticed a strand had come loose from one of the carefully decorated braids, his hand halfway to fixing it before pausing— then brushed his thumb across their cheek, gliding the errant strand behind their long gold tipped ear, ghosting his fingers along its shell and down their neck. “He’s right, you know, you look radiant tonight. I would say like a goddess, but I suppose that phrase has lost some meaning.” Another pause before meeting the silver-sage of their eyes, “Emmrich… is a lucky man. Lucky to have you. You two are like a matched set of daggers.” He ran a hand through his hair and gazed up at the stars. “Mierda. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

“Lucanis, stop worrying. I think we’re all a little out of sorts tonight…” Sabine wobbled again and Lucanis put a steadying hand around them. She looked over at him again, into those beautiful brown eyes, at his soft lips. Would they press against theirs as reverently as they do a cup of coffee? Were they this close a moment ago? Just a little more…

Spite leaned in behind, spectral hands toying with Sabine’s braids. Yes! Kiss them!

Their breath caught in their throat as she and Lucanis pulled apart. She fanned themself with their hand, she felt like she was going to burn up. Out of the corner of their eye, she saw their tall glittering necromancer navigating his way out to them. Sabine turned to wave him over, knocking the goblet off the bench in the process. Quickly scooping it up, she paused as Emmrich settled next to them. 

“My love… you’re better versed on the flora of the Necropolis than I am. If I turn this just so, what does that look like to you?”

“Hmmm… it’s a little hard to tell with the stylised motif, but I would almost certainly say shroud’s kiss, some ivy, woodbine though I suppose it’s more common to call it honeysuckle in this age, musk mallow, and is that vervain… oh… Oh.”

“Exactly. Lucanis, you still have the bottle? You said this was to seal ‘trade’ negotiations?” She took the bottle, first turning it over to look at the bottom, “See here’s the gaffer’s mark, looks like they were associated with the Reinhardts, I’ve cleared more than enough of their crypts to know their crafter’s seals,’ then swirled their pinkie inside the open neck, which came away lightly coated in yellow. 

She held up the offending digit and Emmrich’s eyes grew wide, then he let out a groan. “Of course, how could I have missed that!”

“Listen as fun as it is to watch you two make discoveries, not all of us have your death mage telepathy. Did I poison us? Are we cursed?”

“Technically yes, and no not exactly… You see, it wasn’t exactly an economic trade, more of an interpersonal trade… Some might even call it a union… The honey flavour was obviously from honey, but also some pollen. Actually a fair bit of pollen— from the plants on the cup. You see, Nevarrans have always been really into symbology and those represent friendship, fidelity, and uh love. But more along the lines of desire, or um, all consuming passion and,” her face flushed even redder, “marriage. Vervain is used to strengthen enchantments, and Shade’s Kiss to invoke the Fade. We shared bridal wine from a bridal cup, and I… I said a traditional toast for our bond to outlast the Necropolis. Oh gods. Oh fuck. We’re married. We’re actually married.” 

She took a deep breath, their emotions threatening to overwhelm them, “Emmrich, I love you. Obviously this isn’t quite what we planned. But I guess for two lovestruck tradition obsessed fools, a centuries old ritual was probably the most ‘us’ thing that could’ve happened. Lucanis, I’m so so sorry. I should’ve recognised it earlier, it was all right there. I know you and Neve separated but this is probably far from ideal for you, I’ll find a way to fix—”

Warm soft lips pressed firmly over their own, and strong fingers curled across their neck, gently pulling them closer. She let out a soft moan as the kiss deepened, lips parting, breath passing between them as he stroked the long column of their throat.

YES! Finally kiss Sabine! She wants us. Like we want them!

“Sabine. Sometimes… you talk too much.” He whispered against their lips, voice gravely. He let out a groan and tore himself away. “Mierda. My apologies. Emmrich, I don’t know what came over me.”

The flicker of a smile passed over Emmrich’s lips, “A kiss will be the least of our worries this evening. What my lovely wife,” he took a moment to gaze adoringly at the woman leaning back against his chest, “failed to mention is that the wine is a potion. Not a poison, per se, but it does seem the effects already have a firm grasp on us.”

Sabine aches for us. And listen to Emmrich’s heart race. 

“Ah, an aphrodisiac then?”

“That’s putting it lightly. Aphrodisiacs merely assist in the function of passion, this however, was brewed to guarantee consummation on the wedding night… I would recommend we exit to a more private location with haste.”

Lucanis swiftly stood from the bench, swaying slightly, “Mierda this is strong. There’s a guest suite next to mine, I’ll get us upstairs and we can wait it out.” The two steadied Sabine between them as they stood and began making their way up the staircase at the side of the balcony. “How are you still so steady? I mean, I at least have training from the Crows, if you can call what Viago does training!”

As they entered the upper levels of the estate Emmrich gave full bodied laugh, “Well, when I was a bit younger and more adventurous, I was quite fond of *ahem* certain parties in Orlais. They have a milder potion that yields similar physical responses, and I suppose I built up a bit of a tolerance, or at the very least learned how to manage the onset. Though, I’d wager you two had much stronger doses from any unfiltered sediment at the bottom of the bottle.”

With his free arm, Lucanis gestured towards the doors at the end of the hallway, “Almost there, you two are welcome to the suite on the left. I uh, had the rooms prepared for the party, in case you had wanted to turn it into a small vacation. I know how busy the two of you have been.”

Emmrich stopped walking. “A moment Lucanis.” In a lowered voice, “I know it’s been more than a year since we’ve discussed it, and many things have changed but— do you still have feelings for Sabine? I wouldn’t— no… could never— begrudge you if the answer was yes. She’s bewitched me so thoroughly, I can’t imagine how one could ever fully step back from that. And Spite has been very vocal this evening…” 

Sabine perked up at their name, before burrowing back into Emmrich’s chest, hands roaming over all of those spirit-blasted buttons, why were there so damn many? Ugh… they’re so frustrating. “Mmmrich pleeeeeeease. My love, I neeeeed you.” Then, she dug their nails into the meat of his arm and bit him, softly (mostly) on his bicep.

“Ahk! Darling please, a little patience, then I’ll take care of everything you need.” He kissed the top of their head, hand skimming down to the curve of their ass, giving a firm squeeze. Locking eyes with Lucanis again, the words began to pour out. “She still cares for you and Spite. As more than friends. She was happy for you and Neve while it lasted and I know it ended amicably, but there was a certain glee in their eyes when she found out— fox that she is.” 

YES! We do! Lucanis won’t admit it. But I will say it for us both!

“Spite, please. This question is for Lucanis.” He paused as Sabine wiggled free and fully into Lucanis’ arms murmuring something less than intelligible (“Lucanisll— take care— ufme”). Emmrich sighed, “And I must admit, I’m not fully immune to your charms either… If that’s not too forward.” 

Lucanis closed his eyes, letting out a gasp as Sabine kissed down his neck, and sank their teeth into his shoulder. “Mmm Mierda. Yes. I do, both of you. And I have for a long time. I just. I hate being an inconvenience, and you two are so happy together. I didn’t want to ruin it by suggesting—” Emmrich stopped him with a kiss, slow and deep. Sabine, trapped between them, pushed their hips back into Emmrich and slid a hand to press at Lucanis. Both men let out soft noises of pleasure, and in a tangle of limbs they managed to stumble into Lucanis’ suite, closing the door behind them.