Domestic abuse tw, child abuse tw, hurtful language tw

Malcolm's heartbeat was in his throat as he covered his pointed ears with his hands, shivering. Why was he in this memory, this dream? He hadn't been locked in this musty closet for years, didn't realize how much darkness would still quicken his pulse, make him tremble. There was only a sliver of light from the door, except when the shadows of his Mother and Father blocked it, and he closed his eyes, pretending he was anywhere else.

He tried to pull himself out of the dream, wake himself up, but something kept him here. Himself? His fear? He could hear his Father screaming, his Mother crying, the sound of it twisting his heart. He'd flinch every time he heard a sick thud, the sound of glass breaking or things being thrown over.

He was too scared to go out there and face his Father, though the words 'traitor' and 'coward' jeered from within. Still, his arms and chest were covered with healing bruises of his Mother's failed attempts to protect him. He was so small. What could he do against a full grown man?

He still remembered when his Mother woke him up in the middle of the night, bags already packed for a train and they rode for days until they reached the city of Denerim. He thought for sure those walls would hide him. Did his cousins tell? Were they tracked down like prey?

"You think you can just run off and fuck whoever you want? I'll kill you!" His Father's screams seemed to rattle the walls. He had threatened that so many times and yet he had never sounded so serious.

Malcolm jumped as something shattered against the door of the closet. "Then kill me you coward. I'm waiting! I've been waiting! Put me out of my misery!"

Malcolm's whole body trembled violently as he panicked. No. His Mother didn't mean that.

His mind swirled as he pulled at his curls. They had run away so many times. Those days of freedom were peaceful, filled with relieved laughter and silly games. The kids in the alienage welcomed him with open arms and he finally had friends. His cousins were annoying and pesky but were always willing to share their snacks and play with him. He shared the cramped living room with his Mother and slept huddled in front of the tv, sharing meals there as she fed them both like birds with her bare hand.

They had been healing. They had been happy. Then his Father appeared in the Marketplace saying it was time to come home and Malcolm learned how fragile happiness was.

"You think I won't?" his Father's voice boomed, taking heavy steps. "You think I'll let you fuck me over?"

The hair on Malcolm's arm stood at end as a chill ran down his spine. He had to stop him. He couldn't lose his Mother.

With wobbling legs, he steeled himself and pushed himself upright, opening the door.

No sooner did he open it a gnarled fist came out to meet him, about to ram his face.

Malcolm gasped awake, ready to retaliate, his fist in flames as he pinned Leandra to the mattress, his hand on her throat ready to burn her. Then his eyes met hers, not the golden ones in his memory but black and wide in shock, frozen in fear for the first time since they met.

The flame went out in an instant as he pushed off of her. Deep seated shame and guilt locked up his throat as his eyes flung to every corner, looking for the nearest escape.

She must realize now that he was a monster.

"I'm sorry," he breathed out quickly as he ran to the window only to realize he was still naked. He rushed for his pants, not saying a word as he attempted to dress himself with shaky limbs, when two arms wrapped from behind him.

Malcolm froze, not wanting to be touched but too scared he'd break Leandra if he shoved her off. He hadn't dreamed of that night in so long. Why now? Why didn't he just go to the Fade like normal?

"Malcolm, I'm not angry," Leandra's voice was filled with pity and he hated it. He'd rather her be angry. "You were thrashing. It looked like a bad dream."

"It was nothing," he lied, his voice tense. He felt like an open wound already and he didn't want to look more pitiful. 'I've overstayed my welcome. I should go."

He tried to untangle himself from Leandra's grasp, feeling unworthy of her attention but she wouldn't let go. She turned him around so she could look at his face and cupped his cheeks, gazing into his eyes. "You don't have to talk," she said, she smoothed his cheeks with her thumbs. "But if you want to, I'm here for you."

Malcolm's throat closed up, not able to tell her. He couldn't relive that night again. He felt so pathetic. He shouldn't have fallen asleep. He shouldn't have expected that tonight would go normally. But he was so confused. He raised a fist to her, cast magic against her. That was unforgivable. Why was there still love in her eyes? Why was she wiping his tears?

"Come back to bed," she wrapped her warm body around him and led him, even though his steps resisted.

"It's already late," Malcolm cleared his throat as he wiped his face, trying to control the wellspring of emotions that was suddenly unbottling. He'd already asked for too much. He knew it was risky to indulge any longer.

"It's only 2am. Just for five minutes. Let's not leave the night like this."

She placed him onto her mattress, shushing his arguments and then climbed around and wrapped him so she enveloped him, making sure that the blanket tucked him in tenderly as she nestled close. She smelled heavenly, her breasts warm against his back. Her legs intertwined with his and she felt her breath on the nape of his curls as her arms wrapped around his chest and hugged him. He couldn't bring himself to fight her, couldn't shake himself to his senses to leave. He just felt her heartbeat against his back as he listened to her breathe, not prodding or trying to fill the silence.

He wasn't sure how long he allowed himself to lie there, her wrapped around him. He tried hard not to think about the dream, not to think about the pain, not to think about his Mother. Instead he focused on Leandra, allowing himself to indulge in this moment though he knew it would be better to leave. Still, it was hard to resist pretending that he lived here, in this bed that seemed to be made of clouds, with Leandra warmly embracing him, always always by his side.

He perhaps indulged too long, because the next thing he knew he was being woken up by giggles as sunbeams hit his face. He opened his eyes to find Mara standing over them, with the widest shit eating grin on her face. "I didn't think you'd prefer little spoon."

Malcolm's face burned as he pushed himself upright, Leandra trying to cover her naked body as much as she could, which unfortunately pulled the covers off Malcolm so Mara got an eyeful of him before he stole the covers back.

Mara whistled. "Well done, Leandra," she met her friend's gaze, cat eyes gleaming, "Should I come back later?"

Leandra continued to fuss at the blankets, smoothing them as Malcolm panicked. He didn't even remember falling asleep. He wasn't conscious in the Fade again. He couldn't deny that he felt more rested than he had in a long time but this was an idiotic move even for him.

Leandra scowled, her face burning as she glared at her best friend, protectively holding Malcolm tightly. "Oh, sod off, Mara. It's not like I haven't caught you with Gamlen dozens of times!"

Mara laughed boisterously. "Oh, but being the catcher is so much more fun. Speaking of fun, did you have a good time Leandra?"

Leandra's face burned as she just buried it in Malcolm's chest.

"Oh, that bad?" she teased.

Malcolm knew she was joking but he still found himself offended but before he could reply Leandra popped up and said, "For Maker's sake I'll tell you later!."

The fact that the ladies would be discussing his performance made him nervous and he smiled, sheepishly. He had every intention of leaving, but he didn't expect how powerless he'd be to Leandra's spell, especially when naked. "We might have gotten carried away."

Mara raised a finely shaped eyebrow. "You think?"

He scolded himself silently though it was hard to feel sorry with Leandra's naked body still pressed against him. Still, he would no doubt be in trouble. There was no way he'd make it back to the Circle before class.

"Need me to sneak you out?" Mara asked Malcolm in a teasing tone.

"Sure," Malcolm shifted nervously, unsure of what to make of the way Mara's eyes were lingering near his crotch. "Mind leaving for a moment so I can get dressed?"

Mara smirked, meeting his gaze mischievously. "Oh, don't mind me. Pretend I'm just furniture."

"Mara!" Leandra's face went ablaze as scowled so fiercely even Malcolm jumped. "Would you mind putting the kettle on for tea?"

"As you say, milady," Mara bit down her chuckle, backing away with an exaggerated curtsy.

"And lock the door!" Leandra called after her.

Mara answered her with giggles but the lock clicked in place like requested giving Malcolm and Leandra at least a little moment together before they had to part.

Leandra, still a rosy red, peeked up through her bangs at Malcolm. "I'm sorry about Mara. She's…a lot."

Malcolm chuckled, an easy grin on his face. He couldn't help cupping her cheeks, watching her melt into his touch. "She's a good friend. I'm lucky she approves of me so far."

Leandra hummed as Malcolm ran his fingers through her hair. She knew she looked a mess, all sweaty, any trace of makeup gone and yet Malcolm looked at her as if she was divine, tracing each curve of her face into memory.

"I wish you didn't have to leave. I don't think I can bear it," Leandra pressed a soft kiss against his lips before their mouths moved on their own, their bodies stirring as they tasted each other.

He was already hard again, his hands still exploring the canvas of her skin. "Don't tempt me. I think you're the one thing I can't resist."

"Aren't I lucky?" Leandra smiled against his mouth.

Suddenly there was a knock at the door that made them both jump. "Are you dressed yet?" Mara asked through the door.

Leandra groaned. "Just a minute."

"Do I need to come back in with a squirt bottle?"

Malcolm couldn't help but laugh at the expression on Leandra's face. He never expected a prim, proper noblewoman to have such lustful nature, but he wasn't complaining.

"I really should get dressed," he said reluctantly.

Leandra pouted which caused him to snicker but dutifully untangled himself from his arms.

Malcolm knew he fucked up. Stupid, reckless, idiotic, he told himself, but he couldn't regret a moment spent with her. Plus, he had pulled many disappearing acts over his time in the Circle; it wasn't like this was unusual. As long as he was found on the grounds they would be none the wiser. In fact he was already making corrections in his mind and planning his next attempt. Could he get away with it again tonight? Leaving felt like cutting a piece of himself.

Still, there was another anxiety niggling at the back of his mind. He definitely needed to get some condoms before he visited, that much was clear. He was praying he didn't get Leandra pregnant. He didn't know how to be a Father. He barely knew how to be a man, a lover, let alone take care of another human being, one he could potentially fuck up for good. His Mother tried to be the love his Father wasn't but he inherited a lot more from his Father than his looks. He was aware he had a foul temper that was always getting away from him. It was said you were destined to become your parents. Malcolm feared he would follow his own Father's footsteps, and one day become a monster to the very people he loved.

It took awhile to track down all his clothes, but eventually Mara sneaked him out like promised with Malcolm invisible, not wanting to even risk someone catching him. Thankfully that meant she also couldn't interrogate him either. She tried to instigate a few conversations when they were alone but still but Malcolm kept quiet, not wanting to blow his cover.

He only spoke up when they parted at the secret tunnel in Leandra's basement. "Thanks for the help."

Mara smirked in his direction though since Malcolm was still invisible, she was looking too far to the left to be making eye contact.

"Not necessary. You owe me a favor now and I intend to collect."

Malcolm did not like the sound of that.

The Amell tunnels which Mara had insisted were top secret seemed too well kept, with lit lanterns and spotless floors free of dust and grime. Still, there were a lot of things about the passages themselves that were queer. Mara said it led to Darktown yet the tunnels seemed dwarven, at least from what he could recall in his history lessons and places he discovered in the Fade.

The walls glowing with runes and Malcolm couldn't tell if his ears were ringing or if there was a faint hum. His footsteps echoed down the tunnels and he felt as if somebody was following him so he kept looking over his shoulder but finding no one. And yet he could not shake the feeling that something was watching him.

It was so cold that he could see his breath and he shivered in the dark. He kept a mage light to keep the path lit but the shadows kept bouncing off the walls making figures seem to form in dark. At one point he heard a distinct whisper that chilled his spine. The speech was not in Common and yet he could understand it.

It asked, "Are you the end?"

The Voice could not be mistaken for human, so sharp was it that Malcolm's hair stood at end. He could feel the wrongness of the creature, the familiar vibration in his bones that happened when demon's came close. He closed his eyes, peeking into the Fade to see where it was, but the creature was Bound tight, energy leaking from it in some kind of curse.

He interpreted the demon's question as a request for freedom. It would be no easy task. This was ancient magic keeping it's cage firmly in place. "If I free you creature, it would only be to kill you."

"Even that would be a Mercy, though I am not without skill, Somniari. I could find an arrangement that suits us both."

He had no idea how Mara could brave these tunnels by herself. The Veil was so thin it would not take a mage to understand this demon. What was such a demon even doing in the Amell basement?

"There is no deal that interests me, demon."

"Oh, that's too bad," the demon simpered. He could feel it tasting his aura. It felt different than the terror demon, more prideful, but not a common strain. It wasn't an immediate danger, so he didn't press further. Still, he made a note that he'd need to find it eventually and tell Mara to steer clear of this passage in case the creature broke free of it's bindings. It was just another pest that he needed to kill. The schedule he was juggling was getting busier and busier.

He had never been so grateful to see the exit. The gate was all chained up and there were signs all over it warning about cave-ins but the lock had long been broken off so Malcolm easily slipped through.

From Darktown it was easier to find the sewers. Malcolm walked the tunnels, his emotions swinging from high ecstasy to pregnancy panic. There were a few thugs that tried to mug him, but it only took one look at his face before they apologized and let him pass by. He had gained a reputation in the Undercity in his time in Kirkwall, and most of the gangs knew better than to risk their lives bothering him.

The sewers were dank and rank and Malcolm tried to avoid the puddles of filth. He hated how wet everything always was, how rats and spiders fought him as viciously for a meal as each other. He caught his reflection on the surface of some stagnant water, the face from his nightmares staring back at him. He tried not to think of how he might have messed things up for Leandra in more ways than one. He knew she asked him to come over, but he still felt like he had just ruined her future. He tried to shake off the feeling but it stuck to him like a bad smell.

By the time he had snuck back through lines that connected the Circle to the mainland, breakfast was far over and classes were already in session. He had missed morning rounds and he knew everyone would be looking for him, but he wasn't quite ready to come out of his bubble and face the consequences.

Malcolm managed to sneak past the templars and to his room to find them turning it upside down. Deciding that wasn't worth the hassle of revealing himself then, he went to the showers to wash off the evidence of the night for he surely smelled some weird combination of sex and sewer sludge. He knew he had to face the consequences of his slip up eventually but he figured there was no point of rushing. The showers were thankfully empty since this was not the designated washing time, so after Malcolm cleaned himself properly, he decided to take care of the heated state Leandra had left him in by revisiting some of the more passionate memories of the night.

The water that came out of the shower heads were not very temperamentally heated but that was not a problem for Malcolm. Heating a pipe took concentration but not so much he couldn't multitask and after he satisfied himself with the freshness of Leandra's memories, he started daydreaming under a stream of water, the steam so thick that it collected on all the linoleum surfaces that tiled the room and covered the mirrors in a fog. He was so deep in his dream he didn't hear a pair of heavy boots over the running water thudding against the stone and stopping at his back.

"Skipping classes again, Hawke?" Meredith's voice rang out.

Malcolm flailed, facing the wall so his manhood wouldn't be exposed. He covered it with his hands, not sure what to do with his butt baring at her.

She looked like she hadn't slept yet, dark circles bruising under her bright blue inquisitive eyes. She was armored fully in riot gear, her handgun and taser strapped neatly in sight, her fingers strung lazily in her utility belt near them..

His shoulders raised to his ears that were burning in embarrassment as he glared. "Pervert," he spat. "Do you fucking mind?"

She rolled her eyes not caring where she put them. "Don't flatter yourself. I'm just here to keep you in line." Her gaze zeroed in on his neck where Leandra had left a few love bites herself. "And when did you have time to get a hickey?"

Malcolm's hand went to his neck, hiding the bruises. He hadn't realized Leandra had even left them. If he could manage to look himself in the mirror he would have known to heal them, but as it was Zelophehad had done a number on his mind during Isaac's possession and to see his Father staring back in his reflection was still painful, especially with the nightmare so fresh.

He was sweating, but he knew he had to keep her attention on him and not his clothes which still had his dead phone in his pants pocket. If that was caught, they'd eventually unlock it and his secret would be found. He averted his gaze, willfully not looking at Meredith as he muttered, "you know I don't kiss and tell."

"Ha," Meredith barked in amusement. "No, I was under the impression no one cared enough to kiss you." Malcolm scowled as she laughed at her own joke, adding with a rue smile, "But no matter. All secrets come out eventually."

Malcolm tried not to shiver at that threat, aware of every exposed part of his skin wet and dripping. "Well, you caught me. Good on you. I'll go to the clinic. Now get lost so I can get dressed."

But Meredith stayed put. "The First Enchanter has summoned you to his office. I'm going to make sure you actually arrive."

Malcolm stopped breathing at that. His shoulders dropped as he knew that this had to do with the events of yesterday. What did the First Enchanter want?

Meredith's cruel smile widened as he cringed at the news.

Malcolm tried not to let her shake him but the fact that he was very much naked made it hard to feel like he had any semblance of control, especially when he was cornered with Meredith, the most unstable templar in Kirkwall. "So here for a show? You've sent your message. Stop being a creep."

Meredith narrowed her eyes in annoyance. "Don't mistake my interest in you. It's purely professional."

"Because that's what you're being right now? A pure professional," Malcolm snorted.

Meredith seemed to relish Malcolm's discomfort, enjoying the way he jumped when her hand grazed her gun, fully in sight on her hip. She knew full well that she had the advantage of the situation and was keen on prodding more. "Carver insisted last night you were turning over a new leaf but I see you'd rather prove him wrong again and again."

The jab felt like it hit harder for some reason, and he wasn't sure if it was because of the state he was in or if there was some truth in what she said.

"I skipped class. It's not like I murdered anyone," Malcolm knew it wasn't a solid argument but still the irritation of being a grown man and having every detail of his life planned for him did feel restraining and infantilizing, with the point of not even the demand for basic privacy to be respected.

Meredith cocked up an eyebrow. "You weren't oversleeping in your quarters," she sneered.

Malcolm balled his fist when she took a step closer, unsure if she would strike.

She glared, staring at him as if she could see the truth marked on his skin. "Take a little trip somewhere?"

Malcolm didn't balk. He knew Meredith would be suspicious because she was suspicious of everyone.

She had a nose for tracking runaways, sneak outs, and contraband. Since she had made Lieutenant not many dared to sneak out in fear of being caught by her in particular. If anyone was found breaking the Circle's rules, punishment came quickly and harshly. She had placed many mages in a healer's bed in an attempt to teach them a lesson.

Malcolm knew he risked a worse punishment if he retaliated, so he called a sleep spell in his hands, not calling enough mana to show a charge, but if she tried anything he could touch her and escape to find Carver. As his limbs locked for a fight, he made sure to keep his voice low and steady. "I found a different place to nap. Didn't want you disturbing my well-earned beauty sleep."

Meredith stared pointedly at his hickeys. "You're a terrible liar," she scoffed. "Charlie vouched that he saw you this morning but no one else has." Meredith narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "In fact no one seemed to know where you were, so I'll give you a chance to explain."

"Why do you think I need my beauty sleep?" Malcolm sidestepped the question, holding her gaze without flinching. "I exorcised a demon yesterday. Normal people get a break."

"Yes, but you aren't normal, are you?" Meredith's smile was cold and calculating, the barb sticking firmly. Her thin lips curved into a sinister smirk. "I think you snuck out, and once I find the evidence, because there will be some, I will put you back in the dungeons where you belong."

Malcolm gritted his teeth, recalling when he got in the First Enchanter's Office trying to drop a stink bomb in his drawer. He was thrown down below for a week, in a warded cell made of stone with only a hole to shit in.

Meredith smirked, as Malcolm shrunk unconsciously, and couldn't help but press her advantage. "Or maybe the Knight-Commander will finally let us brand you? There's a line of volunteers wanting to do the honors but I'm right at the front."

Meredith never did get over the fact that Malcolm passed his Harrowing. He remembered how she used to lord the test over him, saying a lazy mage like him would never make it, but she was wrong about that. But not about him sneaking out.

Sweat dripped down his back along with the running water that was still pouring down his shoulders. "You done?" Malcolm said, making his gaze bored and lazy. "You get it out? Feel better about yourself?"

This time Meredith did sneer. "You'll have detention at lunch today for missing morning count, and since you were lazy and skipped healing duties, you can probably say goodbye to your friends for the rest of the week."

Perfect. Still, he didn't even let a grimace show. Meredith was the type to feed on pain and to give her a scrap would just encourage more. Instead, he smirked. It was apparent she was trying his best to get under his skin and he wanted to see if he could return the favor and decided to turn to face her only slightly noticing her cheeks twinge a shade pinker. "You need to watch all this attention you're lavishing on me, Stannard. You're gonna give people the wrong idea if someone catches us in here. Or is that part of the fun?"

She sniffed, clearly annoyed. "Always the jester," she sneered. "But one day you won't find it so funny one way or another." She thrust her arm at him and Malcolm dodged out of the way to find her reaching for the shower knob instead, wrenching the knob off, not minding the water that beat against her arm-plate. "And stop wasting all the water and get dressed, already!" She pointed back down to the benches where his abandoned day clothes lay.

Malcolm retreated to his towel and quickly flung it around him to at least cover the bare essentials. "I could've gotten dressed if I didn't have a peeping tom trying to get an eyeful of the family jewels."

Meredith snorted, shoulder checking him hard on her way past him. "You have a minute and then I drag you to the First Enchanter's office no matter what state you're dressed in." Then she stomped out of the showers and slammed the door shut.

Malcolm dressed quickly, not even bothering to dry himself off so his clothes were sticking to his skin and his curls were still dripping. He knew Meredith was serious, and he didn't want to be dragged around the Circle in his small clothes. Malcolm was suddenly mentally retracing all his steps to make sure he had covered his tracks.

Did he make sure the entrance to the boiler room was covered? Nobody ever went there because it was said to be haunted. Occasionally a tranquil to go back there for maintenance which was often, since the Circle never used their funds to update anything but security. They searched his room but they had searched it before and though he did keep contraband there he was confident he had hidden his wards well enough. Still, there was always a chance he was careless with a spell and his stash would be revealed and maybe his misdemeanors would finally add up to tranquilization.

He was a legal mage, so technically tranquility should only be used for crimes like blood magic, but all it would take is one false witness. Or annoy the Knight-Commander one too many times. It had been known to happen even though it was technically illegal. Especially to elves like him who didn't have fancy connections to powerful families. If you ran away too many times, or make a ruckus campaigning for more rights within the Circle- suddenly, all along they were a maleficar, either to be killed on the spot or tranquilized so they could have free janitors and maintenance men.

It wasn't long before Meredith deposited Malcolm at the First Enchanter's office, the shelves lined with artifacts and scrolls and relics. Meredith took guard at the door.

The First Enchanter looked stern, frazzled and haggard. "Hawke," he guttered. "I thought we were done with these antics."

Malcolm shrugged, suddenly feeling sleepy as he waited for the lecture to come. He wasn't sure why he was so tired today. He certainly didn't expect to pass out twice at Leandra's.

"Look, I just needed some time to decompress after the demon fight. Is that a crime?"

"It is if you are not where you're supposed to be," the First Enchanter snapped back. "I have promised you to one of the most prestigious Houses in Kirkwall, and if you make a fool of me believe me you will not like the consequences."

As much of a threat that was, Malcolm found himself heartening at the news. "So I passed? I'm a House Mage?"

"Preliminarily," the First Enchanter replied. "Lord Amell agreed to house you at one of his minor estates on weekends. You may also be called out on weekdays should they have need of you, but if I am not confident you can behave properly I will be happy to recommend another mage for the position."

Malcolm straightened up, adjusting the collar of his sweater. "No, Ser. This won't happen again."

The old mage nodded. "Good. You'll finally be useful for once."

Malcolm gritted his teeth, biting back the smart comment already barbed on his tongue.

The First Enchanter's eyes landed on Malcolm's neck still fresh with love bites. "I'm informed that Lady Amell gave you a gift and you returned it. That was good of you. As her House Mage you must remain a professional distance at all times, no matter what. You are a representative of the Circle and are only being released because the Knight Commander and I were merciful enough to give you this chance in spite of your heinous record. If I hear any whiff of impropriety you will be removed and receive the highest consequences. Am I understood?"

Malcolm was glad he was already wet because he was sweating again. He wasn't about to say that line was already crossed before it was even drawn. "Yes, Ser. No impropriety here."

The First Enchanter smiled at last. "I'm glad you understand." His fingers steepled together over his desk. "Now on top of your new weekend duties you will be taking on your first apprentice for a class during the weekdays unless the family calls on you. I believe since you already have a connection to Isaac Amell and his family that he would make an excellent candidate."

Malcolm could say on that front he was relieved. Kids made him nervous. He found their honesty cutting and their moods temperamental but at least Isaac's goofiness was something he was familiar with. If he was going to get any apprentice, he'd prefer it be him. "When do I start?"

"You were supposed to start fifteen minutes ago," the First Enchanter sneered and adjusted his glasses.

Malcolm blinked a couple of times, not sure he heard right. "The little dude just went through a possession. Don't you think rest should be his priority?"

"His teachers know to give him light work so that should ease you into it. Routine is the best medicine for moving on from such an unfortunate incident. The sooner his mind is on something constructive, the better."

Malcolm wasn't sure he agreed but there was something that told him not to argue. He already felt his position was precarious enough with Meredith's eyes literally on his back.

He straightened himself up, already moving to get out of his seat. "Well, if there's nothing else I guess I'll go see my apprentice."

The First Enchanter glared at Malcolm. "Be grateful you're just getting detention, Hawke. If we find you out of bounds again, you can sleep in the dungeons, if that will teach you."

"Has it ever, before?" the snark escaped Malcolm's lips before he thought better.

The First Enchanter reddened, the air thickening with mana as his temper rose. "Watch that mouth, elf. I'll have the templars silence you and you can teach your lesson through notes."

Malcolm swallowed, flattening his tongue in his mouth, remembering the last time he pushed the First Enchanter too far. The whole day his throat was closed up, mana blocking so even if he screamed he could not make a peep. Malcolm wondered if the First Enchanter would feel so confident if he knew that Malcolm put hair thinner in his personal shampoo bottles, and from the look of the shine on his head it was working well. Though it was also a gross way for Malcolm to find out the old man didn't wash his beard.

Satisfied that Malcolm would not make another comment he nodded to Meredith and said, "Take him."

Malcolm walked to the door before Meredith could pull him, knowing she would use any excuse to handle him and he wouldn't give her any reason to feel up his pockets and find his phone. He hoped she wouldn't feel the need to do a pat down.

Meredith seemed uneasy about the news that the First Enchanter told Malcolm. She glared at him as she escorted him, seeming to take less pleasure in the duty than before. Perhaps because she expected the First Enchanter to compound more punishment. Malcolm certainly did. However it seemed that winning the bid of one of the Great Houses was enough to get by with a scolding and detention. Malcolm wasn't sure if he should be pleased or annoyed at that. Still, he knew as soon as he wasn't making the Circle money that would change.

He was nervous about being Isaac's apprentice. It was one thing to hang out at meals. It was another to take responsibility for his education and Malcolm felt like somehow he'd fuck it up.

When he entered his old apprentice classroom he was surprised to see Orsino there already instructing the students in excitement as they fell asleep in their textbooks. There were never more than a dozen younger apprentices so they all were grouped together, from the youngest child to the oldest teenager. They all jumped up when Meredith slammed the door close as she left, always using any excuse to throw her weight around.

The students stared at Malcolm, their faces filled with questions but Orsino waved at them for attention, continuing his lecture as if he wasn't interrupted. "Now creating a steady flow of mana takes time and endurance. That flow is taken directly from your own stamina and willpower. Now who knows how one naturally manifests more willpower?"

The children all stared dully at Orsino, fidgeting in their seats as they looked to the other for the answer.

Orsino sighed. "Apprentices, we just went over this last week. Does no one remember?" He stared pointedly at the older students who avoided his gaze.

Suddenly a small body stood up and no one was more surprised than Malcolm to see that it was Isaac. He didn't spot the boy at first because he was hiding behind a heftier classmate that was almost twice his age and size. Malcolm couldn't help but notice that he was rather isolated from the other students who seemed to glare at him warily.

"Daily meditation is the only natural source of enhancing willpower. Blessed and enchanted objects may artificially enhance mana, but their effects are usually not permanent."

Malcolm raised his eyebrows, surprised to hear such articulate sentences from the boy when the most conversation he could usually get out of him was truck noises.

Enchanter Orsino's smile was wide and bright. "Excellent, Isaac. You're completely correct."

The boy smiled, pleased with himself but it quickly dropped back to a tired expression and he sat down and tucked his head back in his arm.

"Since it's so important you understand this, we're going to spend the majority of today in meditation as you try to manifest shards of ice. Everyone, break up into groups for practice. Juniors, find your Seniors." Orsino clapped and the class groaned and broke apart, muttering as they each went into their corners to practice. Only Isaac remained in his seat, ignoring orders.

Malcolm approached Orsino, who greeted him with a handshake. "Ah, Serah Hawke. I heard you were coming to help with Isaac. I'm really grateful. He could use one-on-one attention."

Malcolm took his hand finding Orsino's shake overeager, like they were already friends. "I'm surprised someone so young is in charge of a whole class."

"Well, I've almost reached my first level of mastery under Senior Enchanter Jakoby," there was a distinct hint of pride in his voice, "but I only go over Basics. Still, Senior Enchanter Frank oversees and guides me when needed."

He pointed to a pale older man with no distinctive features that Malcolm had failed to notice because his straight nose was buried in a smutty Antivan novel where someone had drawn black bars over the heroine's busty cleavage so her bodice adhered to the Chantry's rules of modesty. Still the cover was still scandalous with the way her suntanned lover cupped the undersides of her breasts from behind. He was sure that wasn't Circle sanctioned but it was clear no one had bothered to snitch on the man yet.

At the mention of his name Frank grunted and waved his hand in acknowledgment, but his eyes didn't leave the pages.

Malcolm decided to ignore Frank and nodded over to Isaac who looked like he was trying to sleep. "So does he do that a lot?"

"Do what?" Orsino asked.

"I mean with me he usually only says like three words at a time. Didn't know he could string sentences like that together."

"I noticed that, too," Orsino looked over at Isaac. "I think he's just reciting from memory. That's how it's worded in the textbook. He just seems to have a hard time finding the words on his own."

Malcolm nodded, not liking the slump in the boy's shoulder, the sag in his arms.

"A familiar sight is it not?" Orsino interrupted his thoughts, a soft smile on his face.

"Huh?" Malcolm blinked.

"I mean only a week ago you were the same." The words chilled Malcolm for some reason? Did he look lonely? Like everyone could see how the anger was eating him up. "He participates sometimes, and as you can see he's very bright, but he's failed to engage anyone else but me and I fear if nothing changes it won't be long until he closes himself off completely." Orsino put a warm hand on Malcolm's elbow, and it took all of Malcolm's willpower not to shrug off the overly familiar gesture. "I think that's why you can help him. You and he are a lot alike."

Malcolm sucked in his breath, unsure how to feel about the comparison. "That's a lot of pressure, dude."

Orsino smiled. "I've seen you interact with the boy during meals. Teaching doesn't have to be all that different."

There was a buzzing in the classroom that meant that the students were visiting rather than meditating and so Orsino released Malcolm's elbow and said. "I should make sure those conversations are educational. You can do this, Malcolm."

"Sure," Malcolm breathed out as he stuffed his hands in his pants pockets, eying the boy. He strolled over and took the seat in front of Isaac, sitting backwards to face him.

If the boy noticed he didn't acknowledge him. His breathing was shallow and uneasy. His posture was slumped as he collapsed into himself.

"Lil' Garbage Man?" Malcolm said softly.

The boy raised his head, his eyebrows rising up in surprise to see Malcolm there. He then lowered his head back on his desk, wordlessly.

Well, that wasn't good. Malcolm drew nervous circles on Isaac's desk. "Seems like you and I are going to be paired up for a while," Malcolm leaned against his chair. "How does that sound?"

Instead of his usual odd happy vrooming, or really any response, he tucked his head between his arms, looking too worn out to respond.

Malcolm knew Orsino would want him to focus on the lessons, but it all seemed too cruel. "How are you feeling lil' dude?"

For a long time there was nothing but silence but finally the boy spoke soft and slow. "Cursed," his voice was muffled in his arms. He spoke with certainty, as if he was rehearsing facts about mana fortification.

Malcolm remembered Isaac's dream, knowing the wounds from them would still feel very fresh. "That was just the demon talking."

Isaac slowly shook his head, not raising it, sniffling heavily.

Malcolm thought back to how the other children seemed to avoid Isaac. Superstition was like a disease. He knew how vicious his classmates were when he was a boy, and he wished Isaac wasn't going through the same thing. Orsino was right. Whether Malcolm wished it or not, he could fill a role in Isaac's life that no one else could.

Malcolm leaned into Isaac's desk trying to catch his eye. "You're not cursed. One day you're going to do great things, things that you can only do because you have magic."

Isaac looked up at him, suspicious of his words. "Like what?"

Malcolm took a moment to think, and then he rubbed his hands together and snow started falling from it. Isaac perked up when he felt the flakes touch his cheek and he looked up in wonder as Malcolm shaped the snow, making the petal-like drops dance around Isaac's head and clump together until they looked like bunnies chasing each other. A bright excited smile lit up his face as he reached up to pet one of the bunnies, his throat making a cooing sound.

Suddenly Malcolm realized that he had the attention of the whole class, the children's eyes lighting up in excitement. He caught the eye of Orsino who was grinning at him broadly in approval.

"Can I do that?"

"Teach me! Teach me!"

"I want to pet the bunny!"

The children started to crowd around him and Isaac and the boy buried his head back into his arms to ignore the others.

Orsino clapped his hands in warning. "Alright, I know Enchanter Hawke is making a compelling demonstration of mana control, but this is a very advanced technique that may take years to master," a mischievous smile crept on Orsino's lips. "Though I suppose if you all work hard Enchanter Hawke might consent to give a more in depth lesson. He will tell you himself he's easily the best mage in the Circle."

Malcolm winced as the children looked back at him with begging eyes. The bunnies lost their shape as Malcolm fumbled with the spell, dropping all the snow to the ground and making a mess around him. He looked at Orsino sheepishly. "I mean, I am but I suck at explaining things."

Orsino was undeterred. "I would be happy to assist in any way." Was this payback for Lady de Lancet's foot cleaning?

Could he say no? It didn't feel like it. Malcolm's shoulders slumped. "I mean, I guess I can try."

A cheer went through the room and as Malcolm looked over at Isaac, even he seemed excited at the prospect of learning from Malcolm.

Malcolm was still nervous, nervous he was somehow going to hurt some innocent kid that didn't deserve it, but if he could ease Leandra's burdens by being there for Isaac he'd swallow his discomfort a thousand times with a smile.

As the children started focusing again on meditations, he nudged Isaac, whispering behind his hand. "You know if you want to just fall asleep. I'll just say you're in deep meditation."

Isaac's eyes seemed to flood with relief, but his face twisted in confusion. "Why?"

Malcolm wasn't sure if he should start off his lessons by teaching Isaac to nap but the kid looked like he should be in bed not in class. So he answered honestly. "There are lots of different kinds of demons, much like the one you fought yesterday. If you don't feel good, then they might come back, and you don't look like you feel good."

Isaac bit his lip, his thick lashes fluttering against his cheek. "I don't...feel good."

"I don't blame you. It'll be hard after the day you had yesterday. But you have to take care of yourself so you don't get worse, you understand."

Isaac looked at his fingers. "I'm scared to sleep."

Malcolm remembered when he was small, before he mastered his powers. When the demons would call every night and claw at him. So many close calls that he'd become numb to the risks he took.

Malcolm didn't know what came over him but he patted the boy's head soothingly, leading his head back down to his desk. "I'll watch your dreams. Just like last time."

Isaac's face relaxed, apparently able to remember Malcolm's rescue enough through the dream fog. It wasn't long until his eyes drew closed, breathing shallowly and evenly.

Malcolm kept a hand on the boy, subtly weaving a memory of siblings in gardens, when he had a home and family and toys. A soft smile touched the boy's lips as his throat vroomed in his sleep. If Orsino or Frank noticed, they did not say a thing.