Carver liked to think there were limits to what he'd do to help Malcolm. After all, one doesn't rise up to second in command of the Templars without demonstrating discipline. It was a disturbing realization that moving a dead body of a colleague was not on that list of limits.

If Matthew had been found in Malcolm's quarters, Malcolm would be tranquilized without trial, no question. It would be bad enough even with trying to draw attention away from Malcolm when he was the last person to see Matthew alive.

Luckily enough, they knew all the cameras' blind spots and were able to move the body without incident. However, Malcolm was being worse than useless.

"I shouldn't have called her privileged." He was lying face down on a shower bench like he had been for the last five minutes, groaning in self-pity. "What the fuck was I thinking?"

Carver was trying to be supportive, but Malcolm was really starting to irritate him. He was having difficulty unrolling Matthew's body out of the sheet they carried him in. The dump site of choice was the men's washroom. It was only a few feet away from Malcolm's room but there weren't a lot of options when Templars were still actively patrolling.

Carver finally got the sheet out from under Matthew but he was upside down. "I really don't know, but try to focus. You've got bigger problems. Help me turn him the right way up."

Malcolm turned his head to face Carver, his bottom lip stuck out in a pout, his cheek squished up against the bench. "Why? He looks better facing down."

Carver groaned, not in the mood for his jokes. "I need to recreate the murder scene as accurately as possible."

Malcolm sighed. "Are you sure you won't let me disintegrate him? It would be a lot fewer questions."

"Did you forget that someone framed you and we don't know who the culprit is?"

"Wouldn't it be better if there was no body to frame me with?"

Malcolm's callousness about Matthew's death combined with the apprehension that anyone could walk in at any moment made Carver snap. "You might not have liked Matthew, but he was a colleague of mine and his murder deserves to be solved. And his remains are all the evidence I have to catch this murderer. So will you get your head out of your ass because this could very well happen again and I have no idea how to stop it!"

Malcolm's shoulders slumped, and he relented and rolled off the bench onto his feet. "Don't cough up a lung. I'm coming."

Carver sighed in relief, glad some sense was coming back to his friend, because at this point he was moments away from strangling Malcolm. He felt he should be more considerate. He knew that Leandra broke up with Malcolm and it wasn't hard to tell Malcolm wasn't taking it well. Malcolm's energy was nervous. He kept shifting foot to foot, yanking at his curls muttering to himself, but there was time for Malcolm to nurse his broken heart, when they weren't standing at an active crime scene.

Carver grabbed Matthew's shoulders, so bony and thin, the muscles emaciated so his skin was like dry paper. "Now what did Matthew pull you aside for earlier?"

Malcolm froze for a moment, before grabbing Matthew's feet. "Asshole was just giving me a hard time like usual."

Carver's jaw tensed. "I thought you'd have more sense than to lie to me when it's my ass on the line with you."

Malcolm yanked the body upwards, a sound of cracking. "C'mon dude, you know I didn't do this."

Carver started to lift the body but something was wrong. The two halves weren't quite segmenting together, tiny bits of viscera dripping out of the hole in Matthew's torso making it steadily bigger.

"Ok, let's turn the body before he spills out." Malcolm started to twist but he was a little ahead of Carver.

"Wait, I don't have a good grip-" Instead of turning the body around, the two sections split in half, and snapped so Matthew's horrified expression faced the ceiling next to his ass.

Carver groaned. This could not be happening. "So much for preserving the crime scene."

Malcolm shrugged sheepishly at Carver. "Is disintegration still on the table?"

Carver grabbed Malcolm's sheets, which they had used to carry Matthew, and threw them at Malcolm. "Just burn these. And your clothes!"

Malcolm yanked them out of the air and then slumped. "These still have Leandra's scent..." He did smell faintly of jasmine…and cum.

Carver pinched the bridge of his nose, a stress migraine coming on. "Maker forgive me but, if you mention Leandra one more time, I will throttle you."

Malcolm threw the sheets to the ground, a scowl on his face. "I can't help it, dude. I can't concentrate. Nothing matters, nothing- until I get her back."

Carver was silent, his face unreadable as he picked up the sheets from the ground and threw them back at Malcolm. Malcolm caught them in one hand, stepping back from the force. And like promised, Carver grabbed Malcolm and wrestled him into a headlock, pulling his pointed ear to his mouth so he couldn't be misheard. "Listen, you lovesick idiot. If you go down for Matthew's murder, how will you get Leandra back?" He took a fistful of Malcolm's curls and gave him a hard noogie trying to smash his words into his thick skull. "Get. Some. Fucking. Perspective!"

Suddenly there was the heavy sound of footsteps coming into the washroom. "Hello? Who's in here?"

Carver lost his grip straightening up to see a flashlight pour on him. It was a Templar named Hilde, who was a built woman with blonde hair and razor green eyes. Her jaw dropped when she saw Matthew and screamed, "Oh, Sweet Blood of Andraste!"

Carver darted his eyes over to where Malcolm should have been. He was nowhere to be found, but Carver could see the faint outline of his shadow in the corner. Carver straightened up, slapping on his usual professional demeanor. "I came across Matthew only moments ago. I was just about to report this in."

Hilde held her mouth, but she couldn't stop the bile from leaking out. She gagged, upheaving her guts to the floor, further contaminating the evidence.

Carver groaned looking up to the Heavens for help.

"Shit, I'm so sorry," she was still holding her mouth and gagging. "Maker save me, I didn't know bodies could contort like that."

"Me either," Carver said bitterly. He winced, holding his head as the migraine became pounding. "Look the Knight-Commander needs to be informed. I'm still investigating the body. Can you pull yourself together enough to alert him? We need to pull everyone in. There's either a blood mage or an abomination on our hands, and we can't rest until we hunt it down."

"Right away, Captain." She nodded, straightening up to salute before her eyes flew unwittingly down and heaved again.

Carver snapped a pointed finger out of the men's washroom, his tone suddenly strict, "leave before you further contaminate the evidence!"

Hilde's spine straightened in a jerky salute, still holding her mouth. "Sorry," she gagged out, before rushing out of the washroom like she was being chased by a whip.

As soon as Carver heard Hilde's footsteps receding, Carver looked at the corner Malcolm hid in, but his shadow was gone. "Are you still here?" he asked.

Malcolm unveiled right beside him and Carver almost jumped out of his skin.

"Damn it, Hawke," Carver muttered holding his chest to calm his racing heart.

"Sorry," he muttered, a slightly mischievous smile on his lips. "If I tried to leave with her watching, she might have seen me moving. And you Templars tend to shoot first and ask questions later."

"Fair," Carver winced, his migraine piercing with annoyance. There was a question on the tip of his tongue, ever since he interviewed Leandra at the Hanged Man, but he knew it would make Malcolm jump out of his skin.

Malcolm turned to leave but Carver clapped him on the shoulder. "Wait. Leandra and I talked… I needed information about the investigation and she told me something about you."

Malcolm hunched his shoulders, a guilty expression blooming on his face. "What did she say?"

Carver hesitated for a moment. This knowledge could change their relationship forever, and he found himself beating around the bush. "She said she dreams of you and the Spirits call you something…"

Malcolm's golden eyes lit up in hope. "She dreams about me?" But then his face fell as he connected the dots about what this meant. He took a step away from Carver, Carver's fingers dropping from Malcolm's shoulder. "So you know that I'm…"

"Somniari," Carver finished for him when Malcolm failed to say it.

There was real fear in Malcolm's eyes and his hands clasped together pleading. "Dude, you can't tell anyone. It'll mean the end of me."

Carver's lips were a line. He knew that. If Carver went to the Knight-Commander the next step would be Tranquilization. It was the standard procedure when a Somniari was discovered. Somniari abominations were so powerful they could easily destroy whole cities, level mountaintops, continents even. There were a handful of tales of the dreamers, and the demons that craved them so deeply and seduced their fragile minds. Carver knew Malcolm would attract them like honey but, even knowing the risk, Carver couldn't bring himself to turn in his friend.

Carver's voice was low, almost a whisper. "Your secret is safe with me…but this attack…it's related right? And it's connected to the Haunting at the Ball."

Malcolm was silent as his eyes fell to the ground, hard and unreadable. After a few moments, Malcolm said, "Yes… probably… Like, ninety percent sure."

Carver grimaced, wishing it wasn't true, but at least with this knowledge he could prepare his men better. "Thank you for being honest for once."

"Well, there's a first for everything, right?" Malcolm shrugged with a mutter.

Carver narrowed his eyes. "Yeah, but if I didn't corner you with the truth, would you have told me at all?"

Malcolm flinched, his eyes darting away. "Look, you know now. Isn't that what's important?"

Carver knew he shouldn't bring up Leandra but he couldn't help but say, "You know, you might consider that it's behavior like this that drove Leandra away in the first place."

Malcolm widened his eyes and then snarled. "I didn't even tell you what happened!"

Carver crossed his arms, the disappointment clear on his face. "The last time I met Leandra she was so in love with you she was willing to defy her parents and status just to be with you. Now she wants nothing to do with you. I don't need to hear the details to know you must have fucked up bad."

Malcolm's shoulders slumped, for once not arguing.

Then Carver swatted Malcolm in the back of the head. "You couldn't wait until tomorrow to see Leandra? The moment you ditch I have a dead Templar on my hands."

"I didn't kill Matthew!" Malcolm's head steamed, his voice was getting loud again and Carver clapped a hand over his mouth.

"I didn't say you did," Carver hissed. "But someone knew you wouldn't be in your room. Or someone planned to attack you in your room and found Matthew instead. Either way, you're being targeted." He unclasped Malcolm's mouth, Malcolm's nostrils flaring. "You're going to have to actually let me in on what you know before someone we actually care about gets hurt."

Malcolm's jaw set into a hard line. "You don't know what you're asking me to do."

Carver glared. "I've stuck my neck out for you how many times now? Defended you when no one else would. Promoted you so you could actually apply your skills to something useful. Covered for you so you could actually see Leandra. What else must I do to prove my loyalty to you?" He wanted to shake Malcolm, but he resisted the urge and he crossed his arms instead. "If you don't trust me to have your back by now, I don't know what to tell you, man. You need to work with me, or I'll be forced to go to someone with what I know."

Malcolm's eyes widened in alarm. "I thought you weren't going to tell anyone I'm a Somniari."

Carver rolled his eyes before giving Malcolm a hard stare, sneering, "I'm not stupid. I won't tell them that. But a Templar is dead, Hawke. The Knight-Commander will be out for blood. I'm obligated to tell my colleagues what I know about this demon so they can protect themselves from the next attack. It's not my preference, but it's ultimately your choice."

Malcolm's shoulders slumped, bitterness in his voice as he avoided Carver's eyes. "Fine. I guess I'm already in too deep to turn back anyways."

It was something.

Carver's walkie-talkie chirped with a deep bass voice. "Knight-Captain this is Knight-Lieutenant Jiminez. All units are ready to rouse the mages for bed checks. We have the whole Circle on lockdown. Knight-Lieutenant Stannard is on her way with a forensics unit to secure the remains. Over."

Carver grimaced, putting the walkie-talkie to his mouth. "This is Knight-Captain Carver. I have received your orders. I will continue my preliminary exams on the remains until the forensics unit secures the crime scene. Over." Then hooking the walkie-talkie on his belt he turned to Malcolm. "Hurry and get back to your room."

"You want me to burn it in my room? Won't that smell?" Malcolm shuffled the sheet in his hands.

"Cloak it then. Disintegrate it. I don't care, just hurry. And don't forget your clothes. You've got blood on them." He started to push Malcolm out of the washroom.

Malcolm's footsteps were dragging despite the urgency. "What are you going to tell them?" Malcolm said, anxiety making his voice high.

"I'll fill you in later. Just get the fuck in your room." He shoved Malcolm out of the door into the hallway, Malcolm turning invisible at the last second. Carver heard the sound of receding footsteps running and Malcolm's door soon opened and shut tight.

Carver grimaced, his migraine blindingly painful. He reached into his belt and pulled out a vial of lyrium, his emergency dose, and let the cool brisk liquid slide down his throat. It burned coldly, and a metallic taste filled his mouth as a familiar song rushed in his ears. He was overcome with a moment of bliss, the aches in his bones soothing, the migraine fading to a dull thud.

He leaned back against the door, enjoying the feeling of lyrium waking up his system. It was too early for this shot, but he'd need all his faculties to get through this.

Soon enough Meredith came marching down the hall with a regiment of Templars. The Templars proceeded to systematically wake up mages and pull them outside of their room for emergency searches.

Carver knew Malcolm would need some time to get rid of the evidence so he stepped out to greet his colleagues, a grim expression on his face.

Meredith greeted him with a sneering salute. "Knight-Captain, you said we have a situation."

"It's Matthew," Carver said, causing the Templars to mutter at each other. "Preliminary examination show post-mortem damage. It appears his body was desiccated, blood and organs removed. I recommend testing for saliva samples in the wounds."

The color drained out of most of the Templar's faces, except for Meredith who took the news with impartiality. "You've found evidence of cannibalism? Was there a sulfuric odor nearby?"

Carver watched his colleagues pull mage after mage, checking their rooms for anything suspicious. He sweated nervously as they got closer and closer to Malcolm's room, strange lights coming from under the door.

Carver tried to ignore this and nodded to Meredith. "I'm almost certain we have some form of Hunger demon based on what I saw. To be safe, we should start scanning the mages' brainwave patterns. With any luck, we might be able to weed out the abomination before it strikes again."

Meredith turned to her juniors. "Darlene, go to the armory and grab the equipment. Darrell, help her carry it. We'll start right away."

Finally, his colleague came to Malcolm's room, and Carver held his breath as the door opened.

Malcolm was sitting on his barren bed, naked as the day he was born, love bites still all over his freckled chest, his hand fisting his dick. He scowled, flipping the Templar off with his free hand, his other hand still jerking. "Little privacy, asshole?"

Landon, the Templar that was unfortunate to catch Malcolm shut the door, his face on fire. He looked like he wanted to stick pokers in his eyes. He turned to Carver, knowing he was the only one who could speak to Malcolm when he was like this. "Ser?"

A surprised laugh overtook Carver as he palmed his face. Malcolm never failed to surprise him.

Meredith scowled and banged crossly on the door, shaking it with the force. "Hawke, come out here this instant!"

"Let me finish first, you fascist!"

Meredith's face went red with fury and Carver had to bite his lip before another laugh erupted from his throat.

The other mages were blinking sleepily, not at all surprised by Malcolm's antics and they grumbled to each other about how he was making their lives harder… again.

Meredith turned to Carver with a scowl. "You enable this elf! You deal with him!"

Carver sighed, snapping his fingers. "Everyone get back to your duties. I'll take care of Hawke."

Better he be the one to officially search Malcolm's room anyways.

Carver walked to the door and rapped his fist against it. "Hawke, you have a minute to get dressed or I'm dragging you out by your dick."

"That's gay, dude!"

"Now you have fifty-seven seconds. Think I'm joking?"

He could hear Malcolm growl from within. Carver couldn't help but chuckle.

"I'm coming! Keep your hands to yourself!"

"I'd like to," Carver called through the door before he turned to Meredith who was scowling. "Well, you heard Hawke. He's coming. Go back to your duties."

"Damn right, I'm cumming."

An unexpected laugh burst out of Carver's throat before he could stop it.

Malcolm was hopeless.

Meredith harrumphed and turned on her heel stomping to the men's washroom.

Carver sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose with a wince. It was going to be a long night.

Mara had never seen Leandra cry so hard. Not when her grandfather died. Not when her mother compared her to a hippo for daring to have seconds last Satinalia. Not when she lost Miss Kirkwall's beauty pageant after winning three years in a row.

Leandra sobbed into Mara's chest, clinging to her like she needed her to breathe. Mara felt a guilty thrill as she held Leandra in her arms, smelling the heavenly jasmine scent wafting from Leandra's hair.

"I'm so stupid," Leandra hiccupped between sobs.

"You're not stupid. Playboys are like that."

"He just didn't seem like the type."

"They never do." Mara bit her lip, not sure if this was the right time to tell Leandra what she found out about Malcolm when Leandra was already so shattered. "He is, though. Just trust me on that and try your best to forget about him."

Leandra's face scrunched up. "How? I gave him my heart and he crushed it. I…" She started to weep. "I don't think I'll ever love again."

Mara stroked Leandra's face tenderly, wiping the tears in her eyes. "Yes, you will, babe. It hurts. You gotta let it." She held Leandra to her chest. "You're going to cry and it will feel like shit for a long time. But someone someday will make you smile again." She stroked Leandra's silky hair. "While you're hurting, remember that even this is temporary."

Leandra sniffed sharply, pulling away. She wiped her red-rimmed eyes. "Why are you saying he's a playboy? He never cheated on me. He's just a filthy drug dealer." Her voice sounded defensive even with the insult.

Mara cupped her face, her heart heavy with her words. "Yes, he did." She bit her lip. "I did some snooping after we discovered the lyrium dealing and found out he already has a girlfriend."

Leandra's face scrunched up as her eyes flooded with tears. "What? Who is she? What's her name? What does she look like?"

The questions tumbled out of Leandra's mouth bullet fast. Mara bit her lip, not sure if she should indulge Leandra's jealousy, but she said, "She's an elf named Taylor and a childhood friend. That's all I know. I'm sorry, Leandra."

"Why are you sorry?" Leandra said, suddenly enraged and shouting. "I'm not! That just means I can get over the two-timing jerk easier!" She grabbed one of Mara's pillows and threw it. "Fuck him! I can't believe he fed me so much bullshit and I swallowed it like a silly little girl! I gave him my virginity, ended my marriage! He ruined my life and if I ever see him again, I'll chop off his dick and feed it to a dog!"

Mara patted her shoulder, a proud grin on her face. "That's right, babe. Feel that anger. Use it to move on."

Leandra huffed, her shoulders shaking when her face broke again and fresh tears ran down her cheeks. "I always knew he'd prefer to be with another elf. She can understand him in a way I can't."

Mara took her by the shoulders and looked her in the eye. "Does that matter? He's a fucking cheater and a lousy lyrium dealer. You're Leandra, scion of the great Amells. He was never worthy of you and he's a fucking idiot for not knowing that he had the best thing that could ever happen to him." She grabbed Leandra's chin. "Fuck him! He doesn't deserve your time or tears!"

Leandra sniffed sharply, her dark eyes suddenly determined. With wet lashes, she blinked away the rest of her tears. "That's right! Why am I crying over a silly man-child? I'm Leandra Amell. I'm a motherfucking badass."

Mara laughed, cupping Leandra's cheeks. "That's right, bitch. And if he ever crawls at your door to get you back you tell him that."

Leandra smiled for a moment, before it slowly fell. Her cheeks bloomed in a blush. "Is it bad that I'm going to miss the sex?"

Mara giggled. There was definitely one thing she couldn't deny that Malcolm did. He changed her. "Well if you ever need help in that department, I'm available."

Leandra laughed at last. "Mara…" She shook her head droplets flicking off. Then a sudden yawn overtook her. "Oh, Maker, suddenly all that crying has given me a headache and I'm sleepy."

Mara's smile fell a little. She wished with all her heart that Leandra would take one of her flirts seriously. "Then sleep, babe. I'll have breakfast ready in the morning."

Leandra left to go to her room, but Mara pulled Leandra by the hand and uncovered the sheets on her bed, tucking Leandra into her polka dot duvet. She brushed Leandra's bangs fondly, her face still so beautiful even red and splotchy. Mara kissed her forehead tenderly.

"Sleep sweet, babe."

"Hopefully I don't dream of him again," Leandra muttered, turning on her side to face the wall.

Mara crept out of her bedroom to find Gamlen watching TV with her Lolo. It was a wallop game, and by the sounds of Lolo's and Gamlen's groans, their team was losing.

"Oh, c'mon dive for it. The ball was right there," Gamlen shouted at the screen.

Her Lolo was just as heated. "The team just isn't the same since they switch Joe Harrison for Rob McKinley."

"No kidding," Gamlen agreed, shoving a handful of chips into his mouth and crunching loudly, flecks dusting his shirt.

When they saw Mara they both nodded and turned back to the game. Mara tapped Gamlen on the shoulder, "Can we talk?"

"Can it wait 'til after the game, Sugar Lips? It's almost done."

Mara crossed her arms, too tired to indulge in a pet name, and tapped her toe impatiently. "Gamlen, I've been meaning to talk to you all day. You've been avoiding me."

Gamlen's eyes darted to the screen. "No, I'm not," he said defensively.

Lolo's wrinkles deepened in a grimace at the argument starting to swell and, rather than subjecting himself to it, he grabbed his coat. "I'm going to head to the Hanged Man to see if the boys are playing Wicked Grace. Don't wait up."

Gamlen's shoulders slumped as Harvel grabbed his keys from the rack and went out the door, leaving Gamlen and Mara alone at last.

Mara walked in front of the TV and turned it off with the remote. She turned around, arms still crossed. "We need to talk."

Gamlen gulped. "Yeah… I know we do." Then he dropped his eyes, a guilty look on his face.

Mara bit her lip as she hugged herself, plopping down on the couch next to him. "I don't know how to say this. You might freak out."

"You might freak out at my news, too," Gamlen confessed, fidgeting with his hands.

Mara raised an eyebrow, a sinking feeling in her stomach. "What are you talking about? What news?"

"You go first," Gamlen said, his eyes darting away.

"No," Mara snapped her head suddenly anxious. "You first."

She wanted to tell herself that it was nothing, but Gamlen was sweating. Every time she tried to talk to him about Leandra he changed the subject. She could feel he was hiding something and she knew it could change everything.

Gamlen's lips thinned in a line, his blue eyes hard and glassy as his jaw tensed. "You know my parents are asking me to step up and be heir now that Leandra's gone and ruined her standing. I have a real opportunity to do them proud."

Mara's jaw clenched, and her stomach squirmed. "When did you start caring what your parents think?"

Gamlen clasped Mara's hands, a pleading look on his face. "Mara, I need you to work with me. Nothing about our relationship has to change that much."

Mara shied away, backing into the couch. "What… What's changing?"

Gamlen bit his lip. "My betrothal to Aldona Baudelaire has been renewed, but my parents gave consent to continue our relationship."

Mara's heart cracked. "In secret?"

Gamlen's eyes dropped. "Well, it would have to be or it's an embarrassment right?"

Mara threw away his hands, her eyes glistening. "So I'm an embarrassment?"

Gamlen's mouth dropped. "Mara, no I didn't mean it like that-"

Mara flew to her feet needing space from Gamlen all of a sudden. "So what about if you knock me up? What then? I abort the baby? Or make my kids call you Daddy in secret?"

Gamlen laughed nervously, rising to his feet. "Kids? C'mon, Mara, our relationship? We're not built for kids."

Mara found fresh tears stinging her eyes. "So you would want me to have an abortion?"

Gamlen looked confused. "I mean… Wouldn't it be easier?"

Only one tear dropped from Mara's eye. She dug into her anger, swallowing any sign that she was devastated. He promised to stay by her side and said he'd claim her openly. Was the last month a lie? Was dangling a position in front of him all it took for him to abandon her?

No, he wasn't even brave enough to abandon her. He wanted her to tag along forever like a sad puppy begging for scraps of attention. She felt so used, like a dirty napkin he just threw away. She felt so stupid for believing him in the first place.

Mara wiped the evidence of her hurt off of her face and snarled. "Well, guess what, idiot? I got pregnant."

All the color drained out of his face. She could see his blue eyes wild with panic. "I'm- I'm a father?"

Mara laughed, holding her belly. "You could never be a father."

Gamlen's face dropped, true hurt there.

Mara couldn't help but dig her nails in deeper. She curled her lip. "Besides, I know you've been fucking around, but guess what? So have I! So lucky for you, you can breathe easier. It's not yours."

The hurt quickly turned to outrage and Gamlen exploded like a volcano. "What? Who the fuck have you been fucking? What do you mean it's not mine!?"

Mara's eyes narrowed. She wanted Gamlen to hurt, hurt as he hurt her and she knew how to cut him deep. "I've been fucking Carver and, Maker, he knows how to treat me right." She licked her lips salaciously. "Mmm… his dick is so much bigger than yours. It's like fucking a horse."

Gamlen's throat rumbled lowly, but she continued.

"I've never cummed so hard in my life. He's a fucking machine, not like your five-minute bursts. You wish you could be half the man Carver is."

Gamlen's hands balled into fists. "I always knew you were a slut! I could tell something was going on with you two, but I told myself I was imagining it. My parents tried to warn me! I should kill you for cheating on me, you fucking whore."

"Oh, be a real big man and hit the pregnant lady." Mara picked up the nearest thing, which was a vase of roses he brought her, and it swooped past his head and shattered a family photo scattering shards, water, and flowers on the floor. "I only ever wanted your money, anyways. I never loved you! Get the fuck out of my house, you bastard!"

Lie after lie kept tumbling out of her mouth, but she couldn't stop. She could feel vindication as every one of her barbs stuck until he was trembling in anger. His fist punched a wall, leaving a hole in it, and Mara jumped not sure if those fists would turn in her direction.

Gamlen growled. "I'm going to fucking murder Carver for this."

And he left her house, knocking a lamp to the ground as he passed. It shattered with a crash and he slammed the door, shuddering the windows.

Leandra crept out of Mara's room, a puzzled look on her face. "Mara…Are you alright?" It appeared that she heard everything.

That's when Mara broke at last. She couldn't take Leandra's pitying face. It reminded her that her heart was just torn out and stomped on the ground.

She fell to the floor, sobbing, "I won't cry. I won't cry." She repeated those words, but still, the sobs ripped from her throat. Somehow this felt inevitable, this end. She saw it coming long before it happened but, still, it didn't feel real. She believed in Gamlen. She still wanted to believe in him.

Leandra shushed her, placing Mara's head on her chest as Mara sobbed. "I'm here, love. I'm here." She kept repeating. She stroked Mara's hair. "I don't see you crying."

Soon teardrops hit Mara's back and Leandra was crying with her, still stuck in her own sorrow, but there was a comfort in shedding tears together.

Mara clung to her, never wanting to let go, needing her closeness, needing her warmth.

No matter what, she told herself she still had Leandra.