Chapter Text
“Here comes the rush, before we touch, come a little closer” - Closer, Tegan and Sara.
~~~
"You were good out there, Rook – really good”, Neve said as the two walked back through the eluvian to the Lighthouse. Blood smeared their clothes and sweat streaked their faces after a particularly gruelling fight against some Venatori in Dock Town.
“Yeah? What part did you like most – the bit where the big guy knocked me flat on my ass or the way I broke that magister’s nose?”
Neve chuckled. “You made it look easy. I’ve never seen a mage fight like you”.
Alana tilted their head, their sideswept fringe falling over one green eye. “Spellblade style, you mean? I could teach you a few moves”.
“You just want a chance to put me on my back”, Neve said, casting a sidelong glance at Alana.
“Well, I’ll not say no to that – or for a chance to school the famous Neve Gallus”.
“Now that’s fighting talk”, Neve said with a grin.
~~~
Neve and Rook stood in the open space of the Lighthouse courtyard. The fade-sky shimmered overhead, as if responding to the faint sparks of pent-up magic about to be unleashed.
Alana held the mageknife they were given when they became a full Antivan Crow, a simple steel blade with a small crow skull at the pommel. They decided against using any of their more powerfully enchanted weapons for what was just a friendly sparring session. Neve had chosen a dagger from Alana’s extensive weapon rack that took up one whole wall of their room; a short split-hilt dirk in the Tevinter style.
“So, what’s the crystal for?” Neve asked, looking at the small piece of obsidian Rook gave her, held in her other hand.
“It’s a focus”, Alana replied, “like the one in the top of your…walking stick thing”.
“You mean my arcane sceptre?”
“Yeah, that. Fancy Tevinter mages with your fancy words”, Rook laughed. “You think of the element you want to use – I guess ice for you – and pull it into your focus”.
Neve concentrated, and from the obsidian grew a sphere of cold, crackling ice magic that levitated above her hand. Alana did the same, and a purple orb of fizzing electricity emerged in their off-hand.
“Ok, now you send that energy down the length of your mageknife, and fire it off. Like this”, Alana said, shooting a bolt of energy across the courtyard, harmlessly dissipating into the fade.
Neve channeled ice magic across her blade, feeling the metal handle grow colder, until a blast of frozen air erupted from the knife, hitting the cobbled stone floor of the courtyard.
“Good, but we need to work on your aim”, Alana said approvingly. “Maybe if you adjust your grip?”
Alana walked over to Neve and gently placed their hand over hers, adjusting her fingers around the shaft of the mageknife. Alana’s calloused fingers brushed Neve’s knuckles softly, their roughness surprising but pleasant. Neve’s eyes met Alana’s and she stifled a small shiver.
“That’s good”, Alana said in a low voice. “Now, ready to show me what you’ve got?”
The two squared off against each other, each trying to get a sense of the other’s tells. Neve braced her legs in a fighting stance, her prosthetic limb slightly behind the other for balance. Alana crouched low, like a predatory animal about to strike.
There was a moment of silence where both held their breath.
“Come on, Gallus!” Alana called out. “First shot’s yours”.
Neve fired off a bolt of sharpened ice. Rook dodged it easily and countered with a beam of electricity that went just wide of where Neve stood.
“Now can we stop missing each other and do this for real?” Alana asked, a note of hunger in their voice. They wanted to fight, magic was pulsing through their blood, adrenaline rising. They needed this release, to feel Neve’s energy merge with their own.
Neve laughed coldly. “Be careful what you ask for, Trouble”.
The next shard of ice hit Rook squarely in the shoulder, a stinging sensation that was dulled by the padding offered by their leather jerkin.
“Nice, Neve!”
Alana sent out another blast of crackling magic which Neve parried with their blade, feeling the energy vibrating through the metal into their hand.
The two moved together, dodging and blocking, firing off magic, moving inextricably closer to each other as they leapt and parried.
The noise of the fight soon drew a small audience. Lucanis emerged from the kitchen, coffee cup in hand, and Bellara left her workshop to watch The Neve Gallus fight.
Bellara made small “ooh, oh” noises at every shot, occasionally shouting “watch out!” though it was unclear who she was trying to warn.
“Neve, feint right and strike left!” Lucanis called out as Alana dodged another icicle.
“Thanks, Lucanis – whose side are you on?” Alana called back. “Crows before…” their breath was taken away by an elbow in the ribs from Neve, who had closed the gap between them.
“Dirty tactics, Gallus”, they wheezed as they caught their breath.
“Dock Town tactics”, Neve responded with a grin.
“Well, now we’re this close, anything goes,” Alana said. “You’ve done pretty well with the spell bit, now don’t forget the blade part – these may be magic knives but they’re still knives”.
“I’ll try not to stab anything vital”, Neve replied, brandishing her dagger.
“Cute that you think you could”. Alana twirled their own mageknife with a flourish.
In hand to hand combat, the balance of the fight was very different. Neve could throw hands, no doubt, a lifetime in Dock Town came with its share of brawling; but Alana was a trained Crow. They spun and leapt acrobatically, fade-stepping out of sight only to appear behind Neve, or above her.
Blades clashed against each other with sparks. Alana’s hair was damp with sweat. As the two drew close, they could feel Neve’s breathing heavy in their ear. Neve jerked her arm away, her mageknife grazing Alana’s lips, drawing blood.
“Shit, sorry Rook!” Neve backed away, but Alana grabbed her wrist with their free hand, holding her in place.
“It’s nothing. I’ve had worse. Keep going”.
Alana released their grip and the two stepped backwards, readying for another strike. Alana licked their lips, tasting the metallic tang.
The next strike was fast and furious; Alana fade-stepping directly in front of Neve and knocking her to the ground. The hard stones of the courtyard impacted against Neve’s back, and before she knew it, Rook was on top of her, straddling her body with their muscular thighs.
Rook’s breathing was ragged, and droplets of sweat fell from their fringe onto Neve’s face. Blood from the cut on their lip dripped slowly, falling onto Neve’s parted lips like warm rain. Neve tasted copper and salt.
“Give up yet?” Alana whispered.
“You wish”, Neve said huskily. She let go of the knife to grip Rook’s waist with one hand and shoulder with the other. Sitting up slightly, their faces almost touching, eyes reflecting each other. Then Neve sprang into action – using her prosthetic leg as a pivot point, she flipped over, putting Alana on their back instead.
The two remained in this position for a moment, Neve’s arms pinning Alana’s shoulders, their faces inches from each other, breathing together. Then Neve came to her senses and stood up, offering a hand to help Rook onto their feet. Neve’s face was flushed, a sudden embarrassment overtaking her.
“I should…get back to work,” she said, flustered.
Alana ran one hand through their hair, and looked away, avoiding eye contact.
“Yeah, sure, me too – I mean, I’ll go clean up or something”.
The two looked at one another briefly then walked off in separate ways.
Bellara turned to Lucanis.
“Is it just me or did that get a bit…you know…sexy?”
Lucanis sipped his coffee.
“Don’t write this in your serial, Bellara”, he said.