Chapter Text
Crime was a funny notion, to Quinn.
In the forest, there were no crimes in the legal sense of the word, but there were acts that were intolerable to her, and when witnessed, she considered herself judge, jury and executioner when acting in it's welfare.
She wasn't a complete heathen, she had lived in society and understood the precarious balance that existed in order for people to cohabit. But when she watched a fast thief steal fruit from the vendor who wasn't looking, she would think only of a sly fox, doing what it had to, to survive. This to her was not a crime.
Still, when she later saw the poor boy hanging from a rope outside of town a few days later, she felt for him. In the forest, he would likely still be alive.
She knew that the laws of men were there to prevent harm, and that in a perfect sense of the concept, those that caused harm would therefore be the criminals.
But that wasn't always how it was. Like so many cities in Thedas, she had watched those that had more use it to their advantage to perpetuate harm.
And much like how she took it upon herself to balance the scales of nature in her forest when she caught loggers taking what was not theirs. If city guards could kill a thief, then thieving was punishable and that is what these loggers were.
She made it quick, at least. No drawn out days of suffering and torment rotting in a cell. Just a sharp blade and the end of a life.
As she looked down at the bodies she felt there was no use in hanging them in warning to others. Instead, she dug holes near the roots of the damaged trees, and pushed them in, to become fodder to the healing.Justice served.
What she hadn't noticed was that there was a observer in her court room. She almost didn't notice at all until her attunement with the trees and wind informed her of a presence in the branches.She flung a dagger quickly, and caught the sound of tearing fabric before the thunk into the trunk.
Feeling bad for hurting the tree rather than missing her target, her eyes moved to the location to see a surprised looking man perched there.
His hood was pulled up, shadowing his face but his hand was holding his bicep, and she could smell blood in the air. Not a total miss, then.
For a long time, neither spoke.He in the trees, Quinn, standing near the mounds of dirt of her buried criminals.
Around her, the sounds of the forest, of life continuing, unbothered.
Then, softly…
"Are you an assassin?" he says, his accent thick. She places it as…Antivan? Or near there, at least. It had been a long time since she had visited that part of Thedas.She tilts her head to the side. What a strange question. An assassin was… someone who took life for…money?"You do not have to tell me," he continues before she can answer. "But I believe one of those men were a lead to my target. If you are a professional, I would ask who gave you the contract."Quinn blinks slowly, parsing his words and realizing now she had clearly been away from society for too long. Whilst the words were not unfamiliar, it had just been so long since she had spoken to another human or elf. She had forgotten what it was to think in these concepts.
"No," she answers, noticing only now how strange her own voice sounded. How long had it been since she spoke?"No, you will not tell me?" he asks, his voice turning cold.
She frowns at this question and shakes her head, which was still retrieving memories on how to converse with people and what these terms meant.She tries to recall the words you use when you want to share a meal and discuss more, but can't think of it.So instead she peers up at the man in the trees and then makes a beckoning motion, slow, and soft - like she would when she was trying to calm a halla and then she gestured towards a clearing. Her hut wasn't far from there."Ah. Follow… me?" she asks, her voice still a little hoarse.The man does not move, only his eyes narrow a little."I will…explain." She adds, turning to walk slowly towards her hut.
—
She doesn't turn to see if he is following. She knows he is. His movements are incredibly quiet, but she suspects that he is more familiar with the terrain of the cities than the wild, and despite his careful footwork, she catches a snapped twig, the brush of ferns against his shin and when the wind bends around him, it carries the scent of him back to her. Leather oil, metal, and a herb…no…fruit she feels is familiar but hasn't smelled in a long time. She thinks it is sometimes made into a drink.
She goes at her usual pace, not slower for him knowing he can keep up until she reaches the soft decent into the stairs that lead to her home, a modest hut that has been settled under a large cliff face overhang. Hidden from almost all views, she chose the spot it for it's privacy, even if it is a little primitive.
The cool stone slab greets her feet as she walks along the path, her eyes taking in her decorations, various medicinal herbs she has hanging from racks mounted near the walls and along to the front door of her hut. She doesn't have a door - no rain can reach in this far from the ledge but she does have a large deer hide to block the wind.
She pauses and then using a tie, holds it to the side to indicate he is still welcome.Once inside, the smell of home envelopes her and she looks around, before locating her spare chair - having been repurposed as a storage shelf for many years - and moving it's contents, she places it in front of the hearth and the snug fireplace she had maintained and then waits.It doesn't take long. Soon, a shadow crosses her threshold and she smiles at him. The feeling on her face feels strange, and she wonders when the last time was that she even smiled. Years, perhaps.He hesitates and she thinks perhaps he is waiting for words or a gesture. She remembers an invite. "Please. Sit."He still doesn't move and she gathers he is assessing the surroundings, his eyes darting across the room, taking in her herbalist station, her kitchen, her bookshelves with multiple tomes and a vast collection of relics and trinkets she had retrieved from ruins, the door to the privy, the adjacent door to her bedroom and then one more, which she kept as a storage room.Quinn follows his eyes and wonders what he thinks of the place. Then she wonders why she even thought that. Why would she care for his opinion? This was her home, her place of safety and she frowns, realizing that inviting him was unusual, even for her.
She also notices that he has patched up the cut on his arm that she made when she flung a dagger at him and feels a little bad about it. Still… all is fair in survival in the forest.She is about to open her mouth to rescind the invitation, when he steps inside and lowers his hood. Her home is relatively low lit, but she has sharp eyesight and takes in the detail of his face against the firelight.
Dark features and dark eyes are framed by angular eyebrows, almost bordering on severe or avian-like. Or perhaps that is the way they are looking about. He had a long, straight nose and a short beard, but she did not think this was a usual style for him, as it was not styled - so she suspected he had been away from home for a while.
His leathers were very well made, she could tell that at a glance, and from the quality of the belts, loops and holsters she thought it was a professional killer, he was well funded or had been doing this long enough to earn good coin.She feels his eyes settle on her, and notes he is taking in her details as much as she is him. It lasts for as long as politeness will allow, which to the both of them, seems to be quite a while.Eventually, their eyes meet and there is a long moment as they look at one another before he looks away.
He takes another step in and she realizes she has missed something rather vital in their introduction. She places her hand on her chest and bows slightly and then, straightening she softly says, "my name is Quinn."The man stops and then she sees him smile, and placing one foot out, performs a bow that must be the custom in Antiva now, and she notices his movements are graceful and well practiced. Perhaps he does this often."Lucanis Dellamorte," he responds with nod before he straightens.Quinn smiles and then moves to take the mage staff off her back holster, so that she can move about her home more easily but stops as soon as he freezes, his hands instinctively dropping to the daggers at his belt as his eyes watch her hands.He has killed mages before… she thinks. She keeps her eyes on him then, and moves very slowly, unfastening the staff, drawing it around her, at arms length before placing it on the ground and leaning it against a small nook in her shelves where it usually rests.During this entire movement, neither of them had breathed it seems as there is a collective exhale and then slow inhale again.
There is something that resembles embarrassment perhaps in his eyes, but it's covered in wariness and she knows he must be good at what he does, always alert. He reminds her of a bird of prey.She clears her throat. "It has been… a long time since I have spoken to anyone," she says, moving away from her staff but noting that he hasn't relaxed. "So please…forgive me if I am…slow to respond or…not full of words."She moves to the kitchen and then turns her head back at him. "Tea?"
Lucanis's nose scrunches just a bit and he shakes his head. "No. Thank you."It occurs to her then what that smell had been, as he stands in her home his scent is closer now and she inhales with curiosity."Ah. It's coffee.""Pardon?""The smell on your leathers…or perhaps your skin. The bean of the coffee fruit," she says with a smile, having finally teased out that mystery.
Lucanis's eyes go wide for a moment, and then there is a veil of admiration layered in with the wariness. "Yes. I do enjoy coffee… more than tea," he adds with a small smile."I'm afraid I do not have any," Quinn replies softly. "It grows in warmer climates to mine."Lucanis nods. "Yes. In Orlais, mainly."She nods and then her face brightens as she suddenly remembers. "Wait here. I think I have something."Before he can even respond, she moves to the storage room, and pushes the door open. Years and years of traveling and exploration has filled this room with a vast manner of items. Moving to a large cabinet, she pulls open various draws and compartments, searching until she comes across a small bag. With triumph, she tucks it into her pocket and then comes back.Lucanis has not moved from where he was, still only a step away from the entrance to her hut and she notices how his hands are still close to his daggers. He must have been worried she was about to go get a weapon perhaps…Not taking this personally, she then approaches him and he moves back instinctively.
"Excuse me," she says softly before heading out the door and spying a large pot filled with soil, smiles and takes the little bag out of her pocket and glances over her shoulder at him.
Lucanis hasn't moved but is watching her intently.She reaches into the bag and produces a small seed, which she places on the soil, covers it and then closes her eyes and bringing her hands over it, begins a small spell, channeling her vast knowledge and nature magic into the seed, willing it to sprout, to grow, to sink its roots deep and take all the nutrients there, to expand, to flower, to fruit and…
There is a rustle, a shuffle of soil, a pressure in the air, and then a smell of… life.She opens her eyes to a fully mature coffee tree, filled with fruit, ready to harvest. She examines the plant carefully, to make sure her magic has been correct and that there are no defects or errors. But as far as she can tell, she has done a good job of showing off her skills.
With a wide triumphant grin she turns to look at him.
He looks shocked.
Perhaps he is distrustful of all magic. She really should have asked before she did this.
Biting her lower lip for a moment she continues."I… am not familiar on how to make the drink, however," she says, trying to get a better read on his opinions.
His eyes narrow as he begins to shake his head.
Quinn can feel the smile on her face begin to fall, wondering if she had committed some new Antivan crime.
"Is magic… not…approved?" she asks softly.He looks to the plant and then back to her, before blinking rapidly and shaking his head again."No…it is just that, in my line of work, I generally only see magic that is used to destroy. Hardly ever to… create coffee," he says and she notes the tone in his voice is admiration, not disapproval.
Her smile begins to grow again."I prefer nature magic. Life, rather than death."
He nods, though his eyebrows knit. "Then… why did you kill the loggers?"
Ah. That.
"Because they were bringing death to the trees."
Lucanis nods, and she notices then that his body relaxes, as if he had been judging and assessing her the whole time and had finally made his decision.
She doesn't know why, but this pleases her.
Bringing out a dagger, she harvests the fruit from the tree and brings it to him. "Can we make a drink you enjoy from this?"Lucanis seems caught off by her question as she looks into his eyes and sees curiosity there, as well as approval.
"Ah. Not easily. I do not suppose you have a coffee bean roaster?" he asks, a smile tugging at his lips.
Quinn finds it encouraging and a tension inside of her begins to relax."You will have to describe to me what that is," she replies, her eyes moving across his face.
Their eyes lock and they seem stuck almost. Like a deer and a tiger, eyes locked before the hunt… or perhaps something else.Quinn feels a blush move to her cheeks and for a moment she doesn't recognize what the sensation is, as it has been decades since she felt anything like it. Then it dawns on her. She was attracted to this human! Gods!
Blinking rapidly she moves past him, holding the coffee fruit and trying to control the sensation. Her mind works to answer his question, anything to distract herself from the feeling inside of her.
She can hear that he has followed her back inside. When she turns to look at him, she notes a shade of blush on his own features and it almost makes her giddy.
This was nature. This was primal, ancient and as normal as anything in the wild and yet she was so entirely unprepared for the raw energy that coursed through her as a result. She did not feel embarrassment, or concern for it. She was old enough to know it was merely physical and that as unexpected as it was - there was nothing to be afraid of.
Still…it had been a long time. Years? She was out of practice in the art of seduction, and certainly had not kept up with Antivan customs on the subject. Still… She might as well see where the path led.
Her eyes turn to her oven. It was old, she had recovered it from ruins years ago, but it worked well."Could they be roasted in this?" she asks him and watches as he seems to be struggling with his own internal thoughts that her question brings him out of.
He seems to take a moment to process her question before looking at the oven."Ah… I do not…" he says before closing his eyes and shaking his head a little.When he opens them again she can see the focus in them, as he begins to talk about what is clearly a deep passion of his."No. One does not simply put coffee beans in an oven," he says, his tone serious. "That is a crime against the beans." He then begins to discuss at length the importance of the correct equipment to extract the true flavor of the coffee, how the bean needs to be extracted from the fruit and how there is a process to this, and one that takes time and effort and can't be shortcut by magic.
Quinn can't help it. She begins to grin.
In less than an hour, this man had gone from ominous shadow in the trees, to wary, skittish house guest, to impassioned authority on all things coffee.
After a full three minutes she can't help it. A small giggle escapes her.
Lucanis is quiet at once.
"I am sorry," she says lifting a hand to gesture an apology as the other wraps around her middle to try and contain the laughter that wants to bubble forth.
"I am not trying to be… ah, disrespectful? But… a crime against beans?" she manages out in between peels of giggles. "I have never seen someone discuss coffee bean preparation with such a deadly seriousness. Also, is crime a word you use in this way?"
Tears as welling up in her eyes and she moves her hand to wipe them away. When was the last time she laughed like this? It actually physically hurt the way her sides were moving.Then, she hears a low chuckle from him.
Looking in his direction she sees a full smile on his face, one that actually reaches his eyes and her previous thoughts about finding him attractive surge forth again. He really was…very nice to look at.
"Yes, I am very passionate about coffee," Lucanis says, shrugging.
Quinn nods. "I think it's good. I have passions also."
A pause.
Something in the air shifts.
What?
Her response was honest but there was an ambiguity in her wording that causes a moment of hesitation between them both as her body tingles slightly. There is a tightening in her stomach that tells her she is…nervous? But in a good way?
Something shifts in his whole demeanor then. It's subtle, but she can feel it in the same way she can feel the forest. Most would not notice, and it's possible he doesn't notice himself - but the way he stands, it's less defensive and more open. His eyes are moving across her and lingering for half seconds longer than before. His heartbeat is a little faster, his eyes have dilated a fraction bigger. His shoulders have dropped most of the tension, and the way he is dipping his head are all signals. Positive signals.
A rush of excitement flows through her.
Is this… mutual?
The silence is bordering on awkward so she turns back to the bushels in her hands. "If it is a crime as you say to use my oven…""No, it's not a-" Lucanis interrupts and she raises her eyebrows.
"You used that word.""Did I?" he asks, taking a small step forward.
She nods."Oh yes. And I take crime very seriously."His smile widens."Oh? But as far as I can tell… no crime has been committed, yet."Quinn finds herself moving forward too, the rug on the floor of her hut suddenly feeling warmer and softer through her feet than usual. Actually, everything feels… dialed up.
"No, not yet. But it was so close…" she says, gesturing to the oven, which hasn't even been lit yet.
They are close now, close enough to reach out and touch, but neither takes that next step. They stand there, looking at one another, a silent conversation taking place underneath this one.Attraction, compatibility… both of their bodies drinking in the other to see if they like the taste.
She looks at him properly now, noting little details.
His dark hair, swept back and mid-length, curling ever so slightly at the tips. He's olive skin is beautiful, and smooth. If he is older than thirty, then he is looking good for his age. There is a question in his eyes she can see, and she's answering it with her own.
But what is the question they are both asking here?
He came here for information, she reminds herself. Not to be bedded by an old elf.That's her answer then.She closes her eyes and then sighs slightly."I am have distracted you, I'm sorry," she says. "You came here for answers to your lead, and I have instead taken you down a side path about beans."Lucanis chuckles again and shakes his head. "It's true, I did come for information, but do not think I have not enjoyed this… side path."
Quinn nods. "Well then. If you would like coffee, you will need to stay as long as it takes to prepare these… your way."Then she moves to the kitchen. "Or, I have wine."Lucanis hesitates and appears to think about it.
"It's true, I do need to continue on my journey but… perhaps I could come back once my contract is… complete."
Quinn nods, understanding what that means."Alright. Wine for now then."She pours two glasses from the same jug within his view and then presents him with one as she brings the other to her lips, eyes once more sweeping across him as subtly as she can.He takes it and drinks as well.Then she moves to the armchair by the fire and gestures to the other seat she cleared for him. "Have a seat, if you would like to."Hesitating only a small moment he then does so."So, what would you like to know?" she asks."More than just questions about the loggers," he answers and then smiles and shakes his head. "But, business first, I think."
Quinn squeezes her lips together to stop a wide smile at that comment as she has another sip."Did you know who those loggers were?" he asks."Not personally. But there have been more and more coming into these woods of late. Poachers too, as well as ruin explorers. Those I do not mind so much as they tend to not care about destroying or taking from the forest."
Lucanis nods."But I do know where they are coming from. There is a town. No. Town is not the right word. A camp? More like an outpost, to the west. I have observed many coming and going. I would estimate they are bandits, but better organized. My guess is that they are doing something harmful there. Slaving, or making weapons. It's why they keep taking the trees - for fuel."
Now that she was speaking again, she found it easier to find the words and suddenly wondered if she was speaking too much.
Lucanis nods. "Ah. Mierda. I was really hoping to take this target alone. But by the sounds of things, he has a gang then.""May I ask who your target is?"
Lucanis hesitates only a moment and then reaches into one of his many pockets and retrieves a neatly folded piece of parchment.
Handing it to her Quinn reaches out and whether accidentally or subconsciously on both their parts - their fingers touch for a brief moment in the exchange.
She is experienced enough not to blush like a maiden, but it's a near thing. Such an innocent brush and yet she feels her pulse quicken again.
She leans back and opens the parchment, mostly to just focus on this and not make it noticeable how it made her feel.
It's written in Antivan - and she has to take a moment to translate it in her mind. Then she looks to him. "I may need help with some of this."
He frowns for a moment and then nods. "Ah yes, sorry. It's in my native tongue."
She makes her way through the first two lines and pauses. "You are a Crow" she says.
"Yes."
"A very well respected faction, from what I remember."
"Yes. Well. Mostly."
Quinn smiles to herself at that. "Do you know…Zevran Arainai?" she asks.
Lucanis scoffs. "I don't think there is a Crow that does not know of him, at least. Why - do you?"
She shakes her head. "No. Well. We met once, but it was long ago."She decides to leave the mystery right there, just to see if he would be inclined to dig but when her eyes glance up at him over the page she just sees a curious expression on his face.
Finally, she gets to a name.Ah.
"You are going after Howe."
"I am.""You won't find him in that camp then."
"No?""No. After his father's death he was exiled. Already a…what is the word for when human's have illegitimate children?""Bastards."Quinn winces slightly. "That's the one. His half sister exiled him, once he started a rebellion to try and retake Denerim."
Lucanis nods. "I never reveal my clients, but I can say with good authority it's part of why they want him dead. Exiled and motivated wrongdoers so rarely lay low and restart their lives as turnip farmers."
Quinn snorts at this.
"And I take it House Denerim would feel safer if he never became… a turnip farmer?""Yes."
There is a long moment while Quinn refolds the parchment and hands it back to him.
"Would you like… a guide?" she asks.
"To where?""His secret lair."
Lucanis tilts his head to the side in amusement. "He has a lair?""All unoriginal villains have lairs. They think they are being so clever, making them in or near my forest."
"And you haven't expelled them yourself?" he asks, crossing his arms, his face that of pure intrigue.
"It's on my to-do list. I'm a busy woman, what can I say?" Quinn gestures with a shrug."Non-stop, from what I've observed," he says with teasing smile.
She laughs at that. The more time she spent with this human, the more she was liking him.So she stands. "Well then. Shall we?" she asks.
He stands too, and once more they are close enough to feel each others body heat.
"Shall we… what?" he asks.
A daring look comes into her eyes as she ponders all the possibilities to that question and is so tempted to offer answers that would end with them both naked in her bed.
But the opportunity to remove a festering growth from her beloved woods was too good to resist. And who knew - if it went well, perhaps they could celebrate a completed contract in a fun and pleasurable way.
"Complete your kill," she winks, gesturing at the pocket where he stored the contract.
Lucanis pauses for a moment, and begins to lean in a little before he stops, and that smile that she likes to see reappears. She stays still, wondering how close he will dare to get.
Eye level he nods slowly. "Alright then, la misteriosa…" he says softly as she holds his gaze. "We have a deal."
He leans back then, and holds out his hand, which she takes. Warm, genuine, inviting and… she senses there is so much more to this man that just an assassin with a penchant for coffee as she shakes it.
"Deal."