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2024-11-23
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Spiced Coffee - the Lucanis/Rook/Spite romance route we all deserved

Chapter 17: Bird in a Cage

Summary:

Spite is both spicy and sweet.

Lucanis has a new name for his list.

Illario enjoys his new pet bird.

Rook is dying to punch some smug assholes... and oh look, here comes Solas.

Notes:

To those who feel guilty enjoying these Illario chapters... that just means you understand what Rook is going through! But for us, it is just fiction. Remember, most of the things that happen in this fic could be accomplished in real life with a bit of creativity and some THOROUGH negotiations with a partner you trust, allowing for full consent. So if you're reading a noncon scene here and find it makes you feel things, store that knowledge away to fuel something healthier in the future!

(I'm also an occasional kink educator with 18 years of experience - feel free to hit me up on Bluesky @thetidbit should you ever want to ask any questions!)

Chapter Text

“Spite!”

Rook couldn’t see the crystal as well as the candles had burned down and the darkness started to fill the corners of the room. He knew they were there, knew where the prison was standing, and so whenever he could would turn his head in that direction.

It had been so many times now – the device buzzing away, sounding something like a small windchime caught in a hurricane, or maybe two wisps having an extremely intense argument between Rook’s spread thighs. The vibrations were unrelenting, to the point where there were blissful chunks of time where everything seemed numb… only for the nerves to reawaken and start screaming from the assault once more.

Muscles ached from clenching for so long. His legs shook, and with each subsequent forced climax found they could move a little less, toes no longer pointing so much as straining, flexing, knowing there was no escape.

And worst of all… Rook was soaked. Again and again he was forced to climb that peak, no matter how blurred the line between pleasure and pain had become, and then topple over the other side, only to start ascending immediately after. No rest, no break, and no strength left to fight.

Spite was right there – so close, but out of reach. Even if Rook could break free, what then? He had no idea how to safely free the demon, never mind how to get them and Lucanis back together. What else could he do but surrender?

Amidst the whimpers and pants, he began to softly cry. He felt exhausted, body and soul, but knew at best he would only have a few minutes to sleep even if he could pass out. But still, even that he longed for. Wanted. Maybe if he could reach the Fade, he could see Spite, talk to them, try and plan…

More time passed. Rook laid there, almost limp, body jolting a bit and jerking each time it was forced to come again, then melting back against the lounging chair. So tired… no more… please… need sleep…

Sleep.

The darkness was creeping up at the edges of Rook’s vision now, slowly overtaking it until…

Something moved beneath Rook. He startled, tried to move, but found himself still bound. Still trapped and teased and…

Long, toned arms wrapped around Rook from behind, followed by the gentle curling of wings. With a low rumble, Spite spoke beside their ear, and the world around them began to shift.

“You’re not there. You’re with me. Picture it – somewhere safe, somewhere happy, somewhere for us…”

Gravity seemed to shift. Rook was reclining now, leaning back against Spite’s chest as they had together in the Lighthouse, only this time Spite was in their full form. Rook’s arms were still above their head, but it was because each was tangled in a silk scarf slung behind the demon’s neck, each side wrapped gently, playfully keeping Rook restrained. His legs weren’t tied down, but slung over each of Spite’s thighs, keeping them apart as one large hand rested between them, gently toying with their sore, soaked sex.

“There you are. I knew you’d find me.”

The sensations were still there, but the change in context – Rook’s numbness vanished almost instantly, tired body somehow finding energy enough to arch back against Spite in appreciation.

“Fuck… even here I can’t escape it?” He tilted his head back, looking up at the much larger form of the spirit that now took over his torment.

“No… I can’t reach it in the waking world. But Illario wants to use it to break you down, to associate himself with pleasure in your mind but also with control and punishment. He wants to train you and make you tame…”

Spite gave an angry snort, unoccupied hand reaching up to grab Rook about the neck, holding him in place.

“Fuck Illario. You are mine. That toy? It is doing that for ME. This night? It is because I find your whimpers so delicious. Do not think of him. Think of me. Beg for me. Suffer for me.”

Rook moaned, and Spite smirked down at them. Leaning forward, they turned Rook’s head to meet them for a kiss, deep and penetrating and demanding. The feel of Spite’s tongue against his own stoked Rook’s ache, and then suddenly he tensed, grabbing at the demon in desperation, a fresh climax gripping their body. The long, split tongue withdrew so the demon could better hear Rook’s sounds.

“Good boy. You should thank me for each one, and start counting. I want to know how many times your body bends to me tonight.”

“Th-thank you! Spite, thank you… that was one.”

“The first of many yet to come.” They gave a low growling chuckle at their word choice.

Rook was aware what the demon was doing. Spite could pretend this was just, well, to spite Illario’s attempts, but the way they held Rook so gently there in the Fade, the brief moments of concern… Spite was trying to protect Rook’s mind and willpower.

“You… for a demon of Spite… you are always so sweet…”

A long, talon-tipped finger pressed to Rook’s lips. “Shhh. Don’t tell anyone. We demons have reputations to keep.”

“Well… they’re wrong…” Rook’s eyes closed tight, riding another painful edge at the crest of another wave of pleasure.

“Not entirely… but I do love you, Petals. Now… surrender. Come. Come for ME.”

Another crash, Rook’s head spinning as his body struggled and strained, held not by Illario’s bonds but by Spite’s body, their size making him feel so small in comparison. Small, but held. Protected. Treasured. Those fingers never stopped, even as Rook tried to close his thighs to block them out. He felt so raw, and as Spite strummed away he could almost picture himself as a set of nerve endings, all pulled taut like a harp, laid bare to the demon to play as they wished.

Spite breathed in against Rook’s neck, teeth dragging against the skin, then lips and brief passes of their tongue. “You smell so good… I promise you, whatever you contend with tonight? Lucanis and I can beat. And you will adore and hate every moment of it. What is your count? We will both need it later.”

Another wave, and Rook barely managed to gasp out “three!” before it shook their body anew. And on it continued, Spite showering him in their own version of protective affection, claiming each new torment as being in their honor rather than for Illario. Soon it settled into a pattern, an ebb and flow of sensations, and Rook found words to be beyond him. He was simply existing through it all, mind starting to go blank.

“Yes. Good. That’s it, let it wash over you. Accept it. Don’t fight. Allow your body to feel it and move right past.”

Spite continued to hold Rook’s body, even as his mind seemed to disconnect from everything around him. They would remain there with him till they left the Fade, keeping them as safe as they could manage.

--------------------------

It wasn’t Illario that released Rook from his torment the next morning, but an elven servant – and from her mannerisms and skittishness, Rook got the feeling she knew all to well how Illario could be. She refused to speak, coming into the room to separate the crystals and untie the device, gathering it up into the box to set aside. Then, a large bowl of heated water with a cloth was moved close, and the servant cleaned Rook off after his long night. It was all very mechanical, even as his body jolted at the lightest of touches.

When the servant heard someone at the door, she quickly finished up, scooping up the bowl with the cloth over one side so she could step out of the room as soon as the door had been opened.

Illario chuckled at her as she hurried away, turning to lock the door behind her once she was gone.

“There we are! Good morning, pet! Did you enjoy your night? Get much sleep?”

He grabbed one of the nearby footstools, pulling it up beside the lounging chair Rook was still tied to. Looking Rook over, he shook his head and began unfastening their belt, tugging it all the way free and allowing him to start on the Veil Jumper style tunic. Before pulling it off, he paused to unbuckle the leather cuffs around each of Rook’s wrists, checking their skin for any sign of damage.

“Oh good, you still seem intact, though I’m sure you’re sore. Come now, up up up!”

Holding both Rook’s wrists, he pulled them forward until they sat upright, thighs still spread and ankles still restrained. From the new position, Illario tugged off the rest of Rook’s clothing, looking over him now that the elf was entirely nude.

“Those wounds… that must have been Zara, wasn’t it? I’m so sorry she defaced such a work of art as yourself. If I didn’t need her help with Lucanis, I’d never have even spoken to that hag.”

Rook stared at Illario blankly, unsure what response he was expecting from this conversation about what they had endured during their torture.

“Ah. Yes, well… what’s past is passed, I suppose. The best thing to do is to move forward! Besides, I’m certain a few extra scars along with your tattoos will only make you seem that much more mysterious! In fact, I have a surprise for you.”

He leaned over, scooping up a fabric-wrapped bundle off the floor beside the ottoman. Piece by piece he withdrew the clothing inside – an entirely new outfit, by the look, even down to some leather boots and gloves. All in deep indigos and black, clearly Antivan Crow colors.

“If you’re to be seen by my side, we’ll need you to look the part. Not that I don’t enjoy those elven fabrics you normally wear – they seem nice, very light weight and airy, easy to get hands underneath – but things will go more smoothly if you signal your alliance with me in your fashion choices as well. And see, this one? Open chest, very sexy, very masculine – you will look amazing in it, especially with how it will display all those new scars.”

Rook turned to look at the coat, then at Illario, his expression neutral.

“Aw, what’s the matter? Were you too loud last night? Lost your voice?”

He set the clothing down on his knee, then swiftly slid a gloved hand between Rook’s thighs. After hours of stimulation, he was still slick and swollen, and couldn’t help the moan that easily slipped from his lips at the unexpected touch.

“Ah, there he is – go on, sing for me, little bird.”

Before Rook knew what he was doing, his hand had connected with Illario’s face, the crack of his palm meeting the Crow’s cheek echoing in the room. The mark on Rook’s back throbbed briefly – the strike was definitely Spite-approved.

“Lucanis called me that, before…” Rook paused, his voice cracking, the thought trailing off. “… Don’t call me that.”

Illario brought the hand that had been stroking at Rook up, touching his slapped cheek tentatively. Then his other hand shot out, grabbing Rook by the hair and pulling him forward, the gloved fingers now pressing into Rook’s mouth. He tried to fight, tasting himself on the leather, but Illario only tightened his grip.

“I have been calling my playthings ‘little bird’ before Lucanis ever even HAD a pretty little thing to play with! He likely got the term from me, and I’ll be DAMNED if I change my ways to allow him to accommodate HIM!”

This was the first time Illario had yelled at Rook. The sweet façade was gone, the Crow leaning over Rook’s exposed body, shouting into their face while holding them so they couldn’t escape even an inch. But as ferocious as the mood change was, once the words were said he was right back to his usual cocky smirk.

“So… little bird it is, and my little bird you will be. You live here now, in your cage, your only job to sing when and what I tell you.”

The hand that had been gripping Rook’s hair released, shifting to pet them instead. The fingers forced into their mouth slid out, and Illario turned back to the clothing in his lap as if nothing had happened.

“You are lucky I enjoy some spirit in my pets, little bird. But you best be careful. I’ve no need for a pet that bites its owner. And if I have no need of you, then I’ll have no need for your friend over there either.”

He turned to look at Spite, offering the demon a cheerful wave.

Spite knew yelling would do no good, instead baring their teeth and raising one clawed middle finger. Illario laughed.

“You know, I didn’t see it at first, but now I understand how you two got together. So much in common! The attitude, the misplaced loyalty, and oh, you both look so much better in captivity!”

Rook seethed as Illario started setting out the clothing beside them, then leaned down to unbuckle the cuffs on the elf’s ankles.

“We should visit Lucanis today so you can give him the news. He’ll need to start the process of moving on, after all. No doubt the Crows will soon determine there is no longer any demon in him and so he will be released, though likely not trusted any longer. Teia won’t like having not been informed about his… condition. So I’m certain neither she nor Viago will be surprised when you end your relationship with Lucanis – we will make certain there are witnesses, of course.”

Illario stood, moving toward the bookshelf, back to Rook for the moment as he poked around some of the items, looking for one box in particular.

“He won’t believe me, you know. Lucanis will know you’ve done something, even without it being explained.”

Illario looked back over his shoulder, gesturing to the clothing laid out. “Go on, get dressed. And I’m sure he will suspect something. However I know my cousin. I know how he doubts himself. There will be just enough question in his mind to drive him slowly mad. Though to be honest, this show isn’t as much for him as it is the other Crows. They need to see you supporting me… ahah! Here it is!”

Picking up a small chest, roughly a foot in length, Illario returned to sitting on the ottoman beside Rook, an excited smile on his face. Once again, he gestured to the clothes, one eyebrow lifting in unspoken warning. With a heavy sigh, Rook grabbed the set of black silk briefs and pulled them on.

“Such a shame to see your beauty covered up… but I have a feeling I may need a toy for my bath later this evening. And you’ll definitely need a proper wash by then.”

Silently Rook decided that Illario had perhaps the most punchable face of anyone he had ever met. And yet with every new word uttered, the punchability factor seemed to be rising.

Tight leather pants were pulled up first, similar to the set Rook had worn on his date with Lucanis some weeks back. The thought caused a tightness in Rook’s chest, but he continued. The coat came next, and Rook noticed with some interest how the bottom of it’s longer length was fashioned like a pair of bird wings, swooping towards the back with a slight space between, similar to a tailcoat style. A thick leather belt went over that, two buckles to hold it in place, almost more of a waist cincher style-wise as it snatching in that area tightly. Finally, knee length boots were pulled on, buckled just below the knee like many of the Crow uniforms preferred.

By now Rook was standing, fully dressed, feeling relieved to at least not be exposed anymore. But then of course Illario had to ruin that thought by opening the box he’d pulled from the shelves. With a single glance, Rook had a guess at what it was.

“You look lovely, little bird, but! Before we go, I’ve one accessory left that you will need.” From the box he removed two items – a small bottle of oil, and another carved crystal with a flared base.

Well… I guess that explains where that is going.

Rook didn’t fight it. He didn’t have the energy and he knew it wouldn’t get him anywhere. Undoing the fly of his pants, he worked in and his silk smallclothes down past his hips. Illario motioned for Rook to turn away from him, and Rook knew the rest. Back to Illario, he bent forward, hand bracing against the lounging chair.

There was a small squeak as the cork was worked out of the bottle – likely some type of lubricant – and a pause as Illario poured some of the substance onto his gloved fingers. Rook couldn’t help but hiss in a sharp breath as those fingers moved between his thighs, toying up front first, coating everything he passed with that slick residue, till finally he reached Rook’s back entrance. One finger worked its way inside, teasing at the tight little ring before helping a second enter. Rook was thankful he was faced away, feeling his face warm from the attention he was getting. There were a good few thrusts to warm him up before the fingers pulled back and spread, allowing the crystal plug to be slid up inside him. Once Illario pulled his fingers back, Rook’s hole closed along the tapered part, leaving the flared base to seal him off from the outside.

“There’s a good boy. Let’s get those trousers back up, then! Don’t want everyone to suspect how depraved you really are, after all.”

Rook pulled up the silk and leather, tucking everything back in place and re-fastening buckled, nearly finished when the crystal nestled inside him began to hum – not quite as intense as the device from last night and certainly much quieter, but still very noticeable. Rook’s legs nearly buckled beneath him when it started up, but he quickly recovered.

“You… must make a habit of this, don’t you? Seems you have a collection. Do… do all your partners… end up this way?”

Illario reached out, cupping the side of Rook’s face and turning it so he could hold his gaze.

“Oh, little bird… you’re not a partner. Partners are equals. But yes, I do have a habit of bringing toys home for my pets. I do like to spoil you all.”

The hand on Rook’s face gave a slightly too-hard pat, then released him.

“Take a moment to get used to that sensation. I expect you to retain your dignity while we are at the Cantori Diamond. Don’t slip up or embarrass me, or else Lucanis will pay the price.”

-------------------------------

Thankfully by the time they made it to the underground holding cells for the Crows, Rook had indeed adjusted to Illario’s annoying little trinket. It had them on edge and feeling like their sensitivity to touch was particularly heightened, but Rook was avoiding being touched just now anyways.

Descending the stairs to the private dungeon area, Rook steeled himself for what was to follow. What he hadn’t expected, however, was how bad Lucanis looked.

Before Illario could stop them, Rook hurried over to the cell. The door was already open, with Emmrich and Neve inside. Lucanis was on his back on the cot within, skin ashen and pale with deep sunken eyes. Yet still, when he saw Rook approaching him, the man’s face lit up.

“You’re alright! Maker, you had me worried. Any luck finding…”

He trailed off as Illario entered the cell. Neve immediately was on the defensive, keeping her back to the wall as she stepped aside. Emmrich, however, remained seated on the box he had pulled up beside Lucanis, still jotting notes down in his leatherbound book.

“Cousin! It is good to see you have visitors. I would hate for you to be wasting away in here alone.”

Lucanis narrowed his eyes, looking between Rook and Illario a few times before settling on Rook. He reached one hand out to them, and Rook quickly took it and gave a squeeze.

“I’m sorry, Lucanis, but… I’ve come to the decision that I should stay with Illario moving forward. He and I had some… deep conversations last evening, and I think it would be best for both of us if I remained with him.”

Illario stood behind Rook, looming over them and placing a hand on their shoulder to remind Rook of his presence and the threat that came with it.

“I wish you… the best in your recovery, and I assure you that everything I do is for the good of the Antivan Crows.”

Lucanis gave a long, heavy sigh, looking back to Illario. “It sounds like my cousin was quite convincing.”

“Or perhaps Rook just thought better of his opportunities after you lost control of that demon of yours yesterday.” The hand on Rook’s shoulder moved down, traveling along the edge of their body until he found their hip, at which point he grabbed firmly and tugged Rook back a step so that he would be pressed flush to them from behind.

Knowing they didn’t have much time, Rook gave Lucanis another squeeze to his hand, and with one finger drew a heart on his palm. It was the best way he could pass on the message.

“Rook.” Emmrich spoke up from Lucanis’ bedside, concern in his voice. “Please, if you find any trace of Spite, send word immediately. The damage this separation has done to his soul is… well, if not repaired soon, I think it may be permanent and possibly terminal. The Crows are allowing us to return with him to the Lighthouse so I can oversee his care, but… short of the two reuniting, I’m not certain there’s much else I will be able to do.”

Rook knew. They wanted to shove Illario away and hold Lucanis tight. They wanted to kiss him and let him know that they were working on reuniting them all as soon as possible. To hang in there.

The grip on Rook’s waist tightened the longer Rook lingered.

“Take good care of him for me, Emmrich. I’ll be in touch the moment I hear anything.”

Reluctantly, Rook released their hold on Lucanis’ hand, which withdrew all too quickly to fall back on the cot.

“Lucanis, please. Do work on getting well again. I hate to see how your state troubles my little bird, here.”

Illario’s gloved hand took hold of Rook’s chin, dragging them in for a kiss. Rook closed their eyes, but could still hear the murmured reactions of not just the cell’s occupants, but the guards posted nearby. Then a creak of the old wooden cot – Lucanis was trying to move. The kiss broke, and Rook found themselves positioned again in front of Illario like a shield, one hand still beneath Rook’s chin, the other wrapping around to their front, fingers stroking along the exposed part of Rook’s chest teasingly, then delving beneath one side of the coat for a possessive embrace.

Lucanis was up now, barely held back by Neve, teeth bared with such feral hatred that it was hard to believe that Spite wasn’t behind the expression. He glared over Rook’s shoulder at Illario, hands curled into fists.

“Still playing these games, even now? The world on the brink of destruction, but you still have time to be petty?! You always were too selfish and small minded – THAT is why Caterina didn’t favor you!”

Gloved fingers dug into Rook harshly, causing the elf to wince with a soft hiss of pain. Lucanis jerked forward, Neve grabbing hold of his wrist to keep him from attacking.

“Who cares what that old hag thought was important. She doesn’t matter anymore. But your Rook… they do matter. And now, they are mine.” His words were a whisper, low and threatening, only heard by those standing close. Rook wanted to speak up, but the grip communicated warning enough to keep them silent. Pride wasn’t worth anyone dying over.

“I will see you pay, Illario. You know I’m a man of my word.”

“Yes, yes, the great and honorable Lucanis. That must be why you’re in this cell, and Rook and I are about to head back to the House of Dellamorte. Together.”

Using his hold on Rook to guide them, Illario turned to exit the cell. “Come, little bird. I think we both need that bath I mentioned sooner than later, don’t you agree? I swear, it smelled as if my cousin were rotting from the inside out.”

Several Crows stared as they passed, and as they ascended the stairs Rook could hear that wet hacking cough from Lucanis again.

----------------------------------------

Sweet smells and steam filled the room. Servants had dropped off towels and oils, made certain all the lanterns and candles were lit, then vanished. The tub felt more like a pool, filling the majority of the space with stone stairs leading down into the deep ground-set area. Pillars marked each corner, and imported marble lined the bathing area. Illario had wasted no time wading into the deepest part, sighing in pleasure at the steaming hot water against his body. Rook, wearing only a towel, lingered by the stairs. The damned humming crystal plug was still tucked inside him, making him want to hide away out of sight… but of course he wouldn’t be given that chance.

“Such a depressing morning. Come in, little bird! Don’t keep me waiting! I have a pressing need for some… relaxation.”

Illario waded back towards the stairs, the steam parting for him as if he were some dragon skimming the surface of a stormy sea. His hand emerged from the water, beckoning Rook toward him.

For a split second, Rook considered trying to run. Illario’s pin was still on his doublet, the garment several feet away in the far corner of the room, folded on a bench. Rook could probably grab it and make a run for it, but to where in this state? And to do what? He didn’t know how to work the object, and getting it to Emmrich for the man to study would take to long – all Illario would have to do would be take a solid object to Spite’s crystal prison, and both would shatter. He still needed a plan – something beyond just getting away, a method to fix the situation safely. And that would take more time, more research… it meant playing by Illario’s rules even longer.

Rook let the towel drop, looking to one side, knowing Illario would be looking at his body. Especially standing as he was, he knew his wider hips and fuller thighs gave his unclothed silhouette a more feminine appearance, something he only sometimes enjoyed – depending on the day. But of course Illario immediately made sounds of approval, reaching a hand out to help Rook down the stairs into the tub.

“There we are – my prize for enduring more of my cousin. Look at you! Lovely. Such perfection. All my favorite traits in one body.”

A shudder ran down Rook’s spine at that comment, uncertain of how to take it. On the one hand, the praise quieted some of the usual anxieties he felt about his body in front of new people. But on the other hand, it was clear that all Illario was seeing right now was that body, and only in terms of ways he wished to use it.

But at least the water felt good. Rook’s muscles were sore from last night’s ordeal, and almost immediately he could feel that tension start to relax thanks to the heated bath water.

Sinking down to his shoulders, Rook pulled his hand from Illario’s grasp, trying to focus on feeling better while making a slow path to the far wall of the tub. With any luck, he’d just be allowed to soak and recover in silence and alone.

Luck, however, had not been on Rook’s side for some time now.

Large hands began rubbing at Rook’s shoulders, fingers locating knots almost immediately and working each one out with that mix of painful discomfort followed by relief. Rook’s eyes closed, groaning as Illario worked his way down Rook’s back. It felt good, as much as Rook hated to admit it.

“Hmm… so tense. That won’t do. No, that won’t do at all. How can I relax and enjoy myself when my pet is in such distress?”

“You could always let me go… I’m certain you have no shortage of others you could spend time with.”

The hands began to work lower down Rook’s back, and he couldn’t help but fold his arms on the edge of the tub, using them as a pillow for his head.

“Such a waste. I enjoy you too much to toss you aside so easily, when I know quite well how to help relieve such distress. Here, stay just like that a moment.”

Illario moved back toward the stairs again, returning a moment later with a floating wooden tray. Bottles of scented oils and salts were lined up, along with tools for massages, a bowl of assorted berries, and a small flat crystal that suspiciously matched the one still inside Rook.

Again, Rook had a moment – a desire to either fight or run. The objects presented told a story of what was to come, pretty promises that in other hands might be so very pleasant. But those hands weren’t here, and if Rook left to find them, Illario could take them away from Rook permanently.

So instead, Rook reached for a strawberry from the bowl, then turned back towards the edge of the tub once more.

“There we go. I know this must be difficult for you, but it is silly and pointless to fight against having good things, yes? Now then. I am going to make you relax, one way or another. So be my good little bird and let me hear you sing each time you feel something you like…”

One of the bottles was opened, and a rich, earthy perfume reached Rook’s nose. Lavender and fresh cut ceder, with an undercurrent of deep forest moss beneath the notes. It reminded Rook of home in days more peaceful. A sunny tableau of a ruin in Arlathan forest… a place he wished to take Lucanis and Spite together someday.

This time, Illario’s hands were harder, more forceful. He kneaded his way over the expanse of Rook’s back, working at the muscles, searching for more knots, covering every inch then moving down the span of one vertebra before continuing again. With another groan, Rook relented, allowing himself to make sounds of strained pleasure as he was forced to relax. As Illario worked down lower and lower, Rook could feel him getting closer to his body, the heat of him felt, but nothing more than hands against him.

“You should know… you’re more than just a pawn to me, little bird.”

Rook gave an immediate loud scoff, the sound echoing in the otherwise quiet room. “Right. What, you’re going to try to say you have feelings for me?”

“Of course I have feelings – not of love, of course, but I do feel things for you.”

One hand splayed against the back of Rook’s neck, pushing his head forward into the elf’s folded arms, the other pressing upwards along his spine. Something popped, a jarring moment followed by a sigh of relief from Rook.

“For example… I’m finding that drawing these sounds from you brings me great pleasure. I also find your body quite arousing, as I’ve mentioned. And admittedly… I enjoy how you try so hard to push me away, only for your body to betray you each time.”

With a splash, Rook straightened up, standing upright rather than floating. He spun on Illario, lips curling in an angry snarls as he tried to shove him away. The assassin, however, wasn’t so easily overpowered. Rook may have been training for close combat this past month, but Illario had been raised in this world. With a few simple moves, he grabbed Rook’s wrists, pulling one out to the side as he spun him away, then wrenched the other up behind his back and forcing him up against the side of the pool.

“And lucky for you, I even enjoy this – a bit of fight. Not enough to have to worry for my safety, but an enjoyable amount that I can easily put a stop to. Allowing me to have you in a position such as this.” He spoke the words into Rook’s neck, followed by a series of kisses and small bites, all while barely straining at all to keep the mage restrained.

“I assure you, were things different, you’d never even set a hand on me. But you’re a coward, holding hostages!”

“It is not cowardly to be smart in a fight. I don’t need some big, violent display of force to achieve my ends. That is what the rest never understood – I am good at what I do, I just accomplish it a different way.” He pressed forward against Rook, his cock hard to miss as it settled against the restrained elf’s ass.

“You disgust me.”

“No. I don’t. And I think that upsets you even more…” He kissed beneath their ear, then tugged gently at their earlobe with his lips. “And that… makes you fun. You aren’t pretending or playing along. You’re resisting, insulting me, trying to fight back. Which means…”

He released his hold on the wrist he’d pulled out to the side, hand instead moving to Rook’s chest, fingertips playing across one nipple, then the other, the same small circles and flicks he’d used between their legs before.

“… that I can believe every moan I do get from you. Every time you cry out for me, it isn’t in some deluded hope that I’ll do you favors or buy you expensive items. No, you don’t want anything from me.”

The hand began to descend lower still, grazing the dip where thigh met abdomen, then lower still, forcing itself between Rook and the wall as the other tried to block him out. Another twist of the wrist pinned to Rook’s back, and he had no choice but to arch in order to relieve the painful tension, granting Illario access up front. Practiced fingers immediately began that same slow dance from the previous night, and Rook’s tired body gave a full length shudder at the pleasure.

“… So when I can make you do that, I know it means one thing and one thing only.” The fingers delved deeper still, teasing their way between Rook’s folds and up into that front entrance. With a whimper, Rook stopped struggling, freed hand grabbing for the edge of the bath instead to steady himself.

“Mmm… it means that I have skill, and that skill… has bested your desire to pretend otherwise.”

Illario released Rook all at once, withdrawing both hands and turning to the floating tray beside him. Picking up the flat circular crystal, he tapped his finger against it three times. The matching plug that had been giving a low hum for these past few hours suddenly changed to sharp, quick, powerful vibrations inside Rook, taking on a pace akin to when Lucanis had taken him that night with the chains.

“Now, my ego aside, I should point out that as of right now, you have no choice but to submit to my orders. You can try to be a petulant little brat about them still, and believe me – I encourage that, so much more fun – but everything I wish to happen, will happen. How you choose to approach it is the only real freedom you have left.”

Rook was panting softly, the steam and heat making him dizzy as he clung to the edge of the bath, bent forward with Illario still pressed against him from behind. He was simultaneously growing to hate this man more and more… and find it difficult to stand upright when he was around.

“So, a proposal for you. Since you have no choice but to bend to my will… consider allowing yourself to enjoy it. Your suffering isn’t just a choice, it is work requiring sustained effort. So, go ahead, put up your good fight, but remember… you can always just surrender. It won’t change the outcome one way or another.”

Illario moved away again, gliding through the water back toward the stairs, then returning just as lazily to pass Rook several plush folded towels. “Set those there in front of you – I don’t want you getting hurt.”

Fuck… Again, the urge to disobey… but why? Illario just handed them something to make sure the stone floor outside the tub didn’t scrape them. Disobeying would just mean they likely would get hurt. With an annoyed sound rather like a cat growling a warning to another passing stray, Rook set the folded towels out on the pool’s edge, then back a few large concrete sections as well. And the moment they were in place, Illario grasped their hips, lifting them up from the water to drape them over the newly cushioned area. A teasing little slap bounced off one of Rook’s ass cheeks in approval.

“Now, all that being said… I enjoy pleasure in the more typical ways as well. So I’m going to fuck you now. I’ll keep my little toy in you going, though – I do enjoy feeling it against me while I’m inside of someone. Let’s see how many times I can force you to come for me before I’m satisfied, shall we?”

Rook could hear another bottle being opened, this one without any smell to it, and then his hips were lifted upwards from the water. Fingers worked into Rook, spreading some kind of lubricant around, though clearly doing so in a way meant to further excite things. Burying their head in their folded arms atop the towels, Rook tried to hide the moan they gave in response, but the echo of the stone walls around them was not an ally in this endeavor. Illario’s chuckling followed in response.

“You’re demonstrating everything I was just talking about, you know. Proving my point. And I’m not even inside you yet.”

His cock was positioned at Rook’s entrance, then both the Crow’s hands grabbed for their hips and upper thighs, raising and lowering them until everything lined up perfectly… at which point he pulled Rook back firmly onto the entirety of his cock, bottoming out in the first thrust.

Once Illario found the angle and rhythm he favored, he set the controller crystal down on the small of Rook’s back for easy access. Another tap here, a few changed there, and the plug had it’s own new set pattern of pulsing vibrations, timed exactly to go each time Illario thrust inward so the man could enjoy the sensation too.

With that arranged, another hand moved up front, stroking and circling around Rook’s clit with precision, even as he continued to pump away into him.

“There’s that adorable cock… still so swollen? I suppose it did get put through the wringer last night, but I wanted to make certain you enjoyed your reward.”

The wet slap of Illario’s hips against Rook’s ass punctuated between every few words, but the man continued speaking as if they were having casual conversation over coffee.

“I think I’ll have to taste you sometime. Soon, perhaps. I could save you for dessert after supper this evening…”

The consistency of Illario’s rhythm was frustratingly making it easier for Rook to reach their first orgasm, and with a stifled cry they felt their body clench tight around Illario… who didn’t so much as miss a beat, continuing to pound away up into them.

“Good boy! Don’t fight it! You’ll only make yourself tense again, and then I’ll have to work out even more knots from your back!”

“F-fuck… fuck you, Illario…”

“Oh, I’m sorry, little bird, but I’ve never been much of a bottom. Anyways, it’s your turn for that it seems, isn’t it?”

Two fingers tugged at Rook’s clit, a thumb swiping across it back and forth rapidly between each motion. Now overly sensitive from a fresh orgasm, Rook began to try to struggle, bucking to avoid Illario’s fingers but not being able to get away for too long.

“Now now, don’t be greedy. You’ve gotten one, so I think it’s only fair that you help me enjoy myself as well, don’t you agree?”

He added a bit more intensity to his thrust, to the point where Rook was certain anyone standing on the other side of the bath’s entrance would be able to hear the sound clearly. At the very least, Rook took some comfort in knowing everyone in the house was likely desensitized to Illario’s lifestyle, probably not even giving the noise a second thought.

As the pace continued, Rook felt that same sensation from the other night – too much pleasure and sensitivity, but his body was building for another release all the same, resulting in the painful shock and throb from the overstimulation. Soon enough Rook was kicking uselessly, back arching, body shuddering under the force of a second orgasm.

“Fuck… keep that up, little bird. You get so tight when you come for me.”

Rook flashed to the memory of Lucanis saying the same, while Spite had been using their mouth and fingers similarly to what Illario was doing. Rook could focus on that image, knowing it would likely cause them to come again from that alone… but they had just spend the last evening pushed to exhaustion from such tactics. It was likely going to happen anyways, but that didn’t mean Rook should help it along with those memories.

Still… Lucanis restraining them from behind, fucking up into their ass much like the crystal plug was simulating. Spite enjoying themselves with Rook’s anatomy up front, something Rook hadn’t been able to see at the moment but could definitely feel… Gods, the memory did things to Rook…

“Was that a second time? So greedy, aren’t we? Maybe I should continue until we’re matched in number of times, what do you think?”

Rook whimpered, hiding his face in his arms. Nope, it was a bad idea to try and escape like that. No more thoughts of Lucanis or Spite. Illario didn’t need such help. In fact, even while trying to focus on counting in their head, Rook still found himself pushed to another two orgasms before Illario finally signaled he was close. His grip tightened, his pace quickened, and he cranked up the plug to what Rook guessed was its highest setting.

How much more could a person take? The Crow’s obsession with forcing pleasure onto Rook was going to short-circuit his mind at this rate. But thankfully it was only a few more deep thrusts before Illario moaned, releasing into Rook and then leaning heavily against their back. One hand pet up and down the elf’s skin, the other continued to tease Rook’s clit, coaxing more shudders and tight gripping clenches from the hole Illario remained buried inside.

“Such a good pet… Mierda, it still feels like you’re trying to milk me of every drop I have. My little bird really is a greedy little slut, isn’t he?”

Once Illario seemed satisfied, he stopped his torment, wrapping arms around Rook’s torso to haul them up and back, holding them to his chest and sinking down to their shoulders in the bath. Grabbing a cloth, he sat Rook on one of his bent knees, added some liquid soap, and began to wash the elf off from head to toe. Still reeling from the experience, Rook chose not to complain or fight back, instead moving their limbs as directed to allow Illario to clean them up – including working some fingers inside them to help empty them out – both front and the crystal plug in back.

Rook felt boneless. Exhausted. Before Illario had even finished washing them, they began to nod off. They vaguely heard something about how he would take them to be tucked in for a nap, and then their eyes slipped shut and the world fell away.

“Quite the predicament you’ve found yourself in.”

He hadn’t even opened his eyes in the Fade when he heard that damn condescending voice. “I’m exhausted. Just let me rest, Solas…”

“Rest? Well then, I suppose the answer to freeing Spite doesn’t interest you…”

Rook’s eyes snapped open. Across the gap in the Fade, Solas was perched atop a crumbling wall, a thin grin spreading across his face.