#crabmen | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bakuliwrites · 7 months

Text

Moonlight- Julian x Bakuli x Lucio

Rating: M (MINORS DNI)

Tags (for this excerpt): Slightly suggestive, alcohol

Pairing: Julian Devorak x Lucio Morgasson x Bakuli Björnsdottir

Summary: Julian and Bakuli join Lucio and Nadia on the palace veranda for drinks. Lucio is unsure of how to feel about the doctor's apprentice, vacillating between intrigue and jealousy.

So, I'm editing a version of End Up Here to feature my fan apprentice, Bakuli. I'm not sure that I'll ever release the full thing, but for fun, I might post some of it on Tumblr from time-to-time. So here's a bit of it from the segment Moonlight in Chapter 7. I am having fun editing this version and getting to add a lot of personalization to the role of the Apprentice.

Lucio swirls his crystal snifter, watching the earthy-colored cognac churn gently around the glass before settling as he brings it to his lips. The brandy is sweet, gliding smoothly over his tongue, warmth blooming through his chest as it travels down his throat. His keen eyes watch as Julian and Bakuli both sample the finest beverage he owns.

“Count Spada left me crates and crates of this stuff,” Lucio brags, “I only bring it out for my favorite guests.”

Julian makes a satisfied hum as he takes his first sip. When he draws the glass away, small, glimmering beads of the mahogany liquid dot his lips. Lucio watches as Julian’s tongue softly passes over them, lapping up the lingering droplets of cognac left behind from his initial sip. As a smile brightens the doctor’s face, Lucio feels his own heart fluttering. He’s not sure if it’s all the wine he’s had (and now cognac) or something else. Either way, he can’t help the heat that creeps slowly to his cheeks. The Count takes this moment to drape his arm along the seatback, close but not too close to Julian. Bakuli sits to the doctor’s other side, pressed near, searching eyes fixated on Lucio’s form.

“So, what’s new in the life of Julian Devorak?” Lucio begins, waggling his eyebrows at the man, “You finally get to go on all those adventures I inspired you to go on?”

Julian chuckles, “Well- yes, actually.” He looks proudly over to the Count, eyes lighting with joy, clearly itching to share his stories. Just like Montag shared his stories with him.

“Whaddya say, Miss. Bakuli?” Lucio goes on, eyes dragging over Julian’s companion, delighting in the way she blushes as his gaze sweeps to her, “Should Julesy tell us all about his adventures?”

She grins sheepishly at the Count before turning to Julian and excitedly begging him to share his tales. She calls him, “Ilya,” Lucio notes. A bit too cozy for Lucio’s liking. The ugly feeling of envy constricts his heart, until Julian starts talking again and its grip slackens so it can slither back into its cave.

“Alright, alright,” Julian acquiesces, though he doesn’t seem to need all that much encouragement. He launches into the full account of where he went after he and Montag parted. Apparently, Julian has done quite a bit of traveling around the continent, assisting in medical tents during all kinds of battles. He’s gained a great deal of experience since that fateful encounter outside Vesuvia. And has gotten into more than a bit of trouble. Pirate ships, brigands, highwaymen, bar fights, you name it. He even has some strange story about a run-in with some Crabmen on a remote island off the coast.

“Ilya, you’re just making things up now,” Bakuli exclaims with an exasperated eye roll.

“No! I swear it happened! Lucio, you said you’ve seen the Crabmen. Back me up!” Julian chortles.

“Oh, yeah. They’re everywhere,” Lucio adds with a mischievous wink at Bakuli, who merely dissolves into giggles and returns to diligently sipping at her drink. Lucio finds he can’t settle on how he feels about her. One minute, she’s laughing at one of his jokes, the next she’s got her hand on Julian’s thigh and it’s driving Lucio nuts. Part of him wonders if he’s jealous of Bakuli, or maybe he’s jealous of Julian. Or maybe he’s jealous of both of them.

Gah! he exclaims to himself, This is too confusing.

Putting this thought aside for a moment, Lucio is delighted to hear Julian’s tales, mainly because all of them seem to have been inspired by him. Julian lists all the places he’s been, each destination somewhere Lucio had told him all about when they were alone in the medical tent together. The trajectory of Julian’s travels seems to follow the path Lucio took, back in the day, before he was Count. While most of the doctor’s travels were medical visits in nature, he still had plenty of time to do some sightseeing and get up to all sorts of nonsense.

“Glad I could inspire you to go to all those places,” Lucio praises, pouring himself another glass of cognac, “I mean, who wouldn’t be inspired?”

While he’s excited to be with his old friend again, he feels horribly on edge, antsy. His heart pounds against his ribcage, seems to vibrate the cloth of his blazer. He wonders if Julian can see it, thrumming wildly, threatening to beat straight out of him.

Cognac, he thinks, Cognac will fix that. Loosen me up. Don’t know why I’m so nervous. No, not nervous. Counts don’t get nervous. Warriors don’t get nervous.

Lucio listens and absorbs as much as he can. His attention span for other people talking is limited. But he picks up a few other random things; like, Julian said something about not having time to play the vielle anymore. He came to Vesuvia because he’s following the plague (a topic of discussion Lucio hopes to avoid entirely for the remainder of the night). And he and Bakuli have been together for a few months now.

Together? Like together, together? that damned, meek voice whimpers in Lucio’s head.

Just because he said, “together,” doesn’t mean we can’t all have fun together, another voice speaks confidently, Just like Noddy and I.

As if on cue, the door to the veranda swings open and out comes Nadia and Lady Delphine. Their gowns sweep languidly behind them as they glide across the patio to join the other three. With the presence of the Countess and her companion, Julian’s storytelling becomes even more animated. He even acts out a few duels he had with some swashbuckling pirates on the high seas.

Maybe later, we can have a duel of our own. Pick up where we left off, all those years ago, Lucio contemplates to himself, watching as Julian flits around the veranda. He’s reminded of the day Julian surprised him with his unexpected mastery of the sword. But it’s not the actual fight that sticks in Lucio’s memory. It’s the aftermath of it. Julian’s back pressed against Montag’s chest, his amber scent filling the mercenary’s nose, pleasant and calming. Julian’s narrow hip in his hand, thrusting it back, hearing the soft grunt the doctor’s attendant makes. Lucio’s gaze trails back to Bakuli, whose smile is as bright as the moon above. She looks at Julian adoringly, like Julian used to look at Lucio. The Count wonders if she’ll ever look at him like that.

What a ridiculous thought, Lucio scolds himself, turning back to his drink, Why would she? And why would I even want that?

But his grousing doesn’t last for long. Julian has always had this special ability: to bring joy out in everyone. His charisma and charm have a way of cheering up even the grouchiest of individuals. Lucio likes to think he has that ability, too, and that’s why he’s drawn to Julian. And Julian to him. Even Nadia and Lady Delphine seem to be having a great time. The night air is filled with merriment, gentle laughter and chatter floating through the breeze, carried into the heavens like a quiet blessing.

“Wow, you really did get up to trouble without me!” Lucio exclaims when it seems Julian’s tale is coming to a close, “Imagine what we’d have gotten into if we’d traveled together.”

Lucio winks at Bakuli once again, who shifts shyly in her seat and snuggles close to Julian after he reclaims his spot on the sofa. Silence. For once in his life, Lucio feels like sitting and observing. He wants to drink Julian’s form in, see what he hasn’t seen for ten years. He worries, and he hates that he worries. But an overpowering need to break the uncomfortable silence wells up in him. Rarely is he lost for words. But there’s something about Julian, something about Bakuli that numbs his tongue.

If I say the wrong thing. If I make the wrong move. Just like everyone else, he’ll leave me. And then I’ll be alone. Just like always, that accursed worry whispers, Just like everyone has, all these years. And I don’t even know this Bakuli, but I know she’ll leave me, too. If I say the wrong thing. Don’t fuck this up. Just this once, don’t fuck this up.

“Doctor Devorak,” Nadia addresses in her smooth voice, “I hear you and my husband are old friends?”

Thank the Gods, Noddy, Lucio sighs in relief, passing her a glance he hopes she interprets as grateful. She graces him with a subtle, knowing look. She seems to know something he doesn’t. See something he’s unaware of. Noddy always knows. Noddy knows better than he does. Noddy’s good at reading him. Noddy’s good at everything she does.

And I’m good at nothing, worry snivels.

Shut up. Shut up, shut up, shut up.

Rotten carpaccio. Rotten brat. Sick with you for nine months.

“I was, indeed, the one to hack your husband’s arm off,” he distantly hears Julian proclaim, drawing his attention back to the conversation. Lucio absentmindedly reaches for Julian’s empty cognac glass, fills it, and gestures for Bakuli to hand him hers. As their eyes meet, Lucio feels a sudden and intense wave of jealousy once again. Like he can see the life he’s wanted dancing in her eyes, the life that is supposed to be his: Julian at his side. Not hers. Like she’s mocking him with her proximity to Julian.

And then he sees something soft in her gaze. A life yet to come. One with room for all three of them. One where Bakuli and Julian can stand at Count Lucio’s side, a united triumvirate leading Vesuvia to greatness. The Count, the Doctor, and the Magician.

Maybe they’d have room for me in their life, meekness whimpers, interrupting his glorious daydream, Maybe they’d have space in their life for me.

Pathetic. As if you’re some sort of stray dog they’d bring in off the streets, he scolds himself, anger roiling in his core.

“And what about you, Miss. Bakuli?” Lucio blurts as he hands back a full glass of cognac to her, surprising even himself with the question. His tone is blunt, blunter than he meant it to be, and he can feel how piercing his own gaze is. However, Bakuli remains resolute, poised, and ready for whatever comes next.

“You’ve been awfully quiet. How do you know Jules?” Lucio questions, giving way to petty jealousy. He heard it from Julian once this night. For some reason, he feels like he needs to hear the story from her mouth, too. As if somehow, that would give him a complete understanding of their relationship. His gaze flicks to where Bakuli has her hand resting on Julian’s thigh. She smiles amiably at the Count, clearly untroubled by Lucio’s question, and seemingly the least bit intimidated.

“We met when Ilya moved to Vesuvia,” she answers diplomatically, “We were in line at a market stall.” Her wistful smile afterwards is enough to tell Lucio that their relationship is more than just a physical one. It both incenses and excites him. Lucio isn’t sure whether to be terribly hurt or curiously intrigued. Either way, he doesn’t have a chance to respond to her comment.

“I’ve heard a lot of wonderful things about you,” Bakuli goes on, turning her tenderness towards the Count, welcoming him softly into her heart. A white flag. A surrender, of sorts. A comment as if to say, I am not your enemy.

“I’m excited that I’ve gotten the opportunity to meet someone that means so much to Ilya,” she finishes, a pleasant smile that extends all the way up to her hazel eyes. Lucio doesn’t remember the last time anyone looked at him that way: with a gentle compassion that leaves no room for animosity. He can’t be upset with her, a feeling that is almost unfamiliar to him. This entire evening, Bakuli has neither insulted nor demeaned him. She’s politely listened to his stories, asked questions when she’s needed clarification, and overall been the perfect guest. Neither she nor Julian have deigned to whisper foul things behind his back. Otherwise, Lucio surely would have heard, given that they’ve been right by his side this whole evening. Just like Julian, there is no pity in Miss. Bakuli’s gaze. Only a shimmering inquisitiveness and quiet benevolence.

So, Count Lucio of Vesuvia decides that perhaps he can grow to like this magician, even if he is a bit jealous.

“Jules is also the one that gave me my name,” Lucio blurts in an attempt to dispel the odd tension. His mouth forms the words before his brain can stop him. Other people weren’t supposed to know that. That was something Lucio wanted credit for. The genius of it. Lucio meaning, “light,” and all. He’s the Light of Vesuvia, clever for coming up with that. But some piece of Lucio couldn’t help announcing this to this tiny, intimate group. Perhaps it’s Julian’s sudden reappearance in his life making him nostalgic. Or Bakuli’s silent thoughtfulness that makes him want to open up, for some gods forsaken reason.

“He is?!” Bakuli beams, eyes lighting with surprise as she perks up in her seat, “You never told me that!”

Lucio forgets all about his worry when Julian turns a bright crimson, drawing a devilish grin from the Count.

“He sure as hell is!” Lucio teases, delighted by Bakuli’s enthusiasm and Julian’s sheepishness, “Aww, look at him blush! Still the same modest mess you’ve always been, Jules.”

“Oh, goodness. Tell me about it! He can hardly take a compliment without turning at least twenty different shades of red,” Bakuli twitters teasingly. That’s the most she’s said all night and Lucio is ecstatic.

“Look at him, he’s blushing even more!” Lucio cackles as Julian buries his nose in his glass and pretends not to hear his companions.

“You should see him when he gets praised for something,” Bakuli goes on, leaning ever so slightly across Julian so she can speak to Lucio more directly.

“Darling!” Julian exclaims, clearly mortified.

“I bet he’s a disaster!” Lucio guffaws, “You should’ve seen him back in the day. Every time I’d tell him he was doing a good job with my arm, he’d start sputtering!”

Oh, I like this magician, he realizes, listening to her laughter as he tells her about how flustered Julian used to get. He likes how sassy she is, the glint of mischief in her eyes. She seems to like him, too. Just moments ago, Lucio had been conflicted about her, unsure if he should be wary, jealous, or try to get to know Bakuli. He’s still not quite settled on how he feels about her, but their shared teasing of Julian aids in making Lucio feel less threatened. She has plenty of hysterical stories to share about the doctor (to which Julian laughs, flustered, blushing a thousand shades of red, as predicted). Lucio has plenty of his own to tell. Soon, the night is just one big contest to see who can make Julian blush the most. Lucio feels he’s won, but Bakuli certainly puts in a good effort.

#the arcana #julian devorak #lucio morgasson #count lucio #julcio #julian x lucio #julian x bakuli x lucio #bakuli bjornsdottir #my fan apprentice #end up here rewrite #my editing

1 note · View note