tw for slutshaming, victim blaming, parental abuse, puns

Leandra was woken up from her spot on the couch that morning when Gamlen stormed into Mara's house with his old key and demanded a bunch of his stuff back. Gamlen didn't even seem upset that their aunt and niece were gone. He was too busy rummaging through Mara's things to take back the gifts he'd given her: jewelry, dresses, shoes, anything that he'd spent money on, which happened to be a lot.

Leandra already had a headache from crying all night, and now she had a bigger headache listening to Mara and Gamlen scream and slam doors at each other. She could hear the wall thudding as Mara threw everything Gamlen asked for at him as hard as she could.

Harvel came out of his room, flinching at the noise coming from Mara's room. He found Leandra trying her best to drown out the shouting with the morning news.

Harvel tightened the rope on his bathrobe. "You want to get dressed and head down to Bobby's for breakfast. My treat."

She nodded with a grateful smile. "I'll throw on some clothes."

She grabbed her phone from the coffee table, but saw it was almost dead, so she went to her room to put it on the charger. Leandra threw on the first dress she saw, a white frock with pink polka dots. She quickly washed her face, brushed her hair and teeth, and dabbed on some light makeup to look presentable. She chose some comfortable magenta flats, since her arches were still sore from constantly wearing heels and she needed to give her feet a break.

Harvel was sitting on the couch watching the news, the newscaster spilling more woes about a homeless woman that had been killed by the rogue abomination. The newscaster focused more on the fact the abomination was still about, rather than actual details of the woman herself.

Harvel was dressed in a plain green long-sleeved shirt and beige slacks. He didn't hear Leandra come in because Gamlen and Mara were still screaming at each other.

Leandra walked up to Harvel and tapped him on the shoulder. "Shall we?"

"Right away, my Lady." Harvel rose from the couch with the help of his cane and clicked off the TV.

Leandra walked to the rack to fetch her purse, but Harvel waved her away. "Mistress Amell, I insist with the ill news about your family that you let me treat you. I absolutely insist. It's the least I could do."

She wanted to argue, but the truth was, after everything that happened, she just didn't have the energy. And her brother was intent on sucking away the last of the energy she did have.

She slumped her shoulders, letting her fingers fall from her purse. "Alright, Harvel. You win."

Harvel drove Leandra into the city. They merged into the morning commute to Lowtown, and were stuck in traffic for at least an hour. Harvel's thin lips were in a line, his eyes fixed uncomfortably forward. They chatted about the weather mostly, every other topic feeling like a warzone of volatile emotions.

Harvel had always been fond of Leandra but his station always kept him at a somewhat professional distance. Now, with everything in Leandra's life falling apart, it seemed difficult to maintain that distance. His hands remained tight on the wheel, but his leaf-green eyes kept drifting to Leandra, wide with worry.

Soon they pulled up to a rustic diner on the boardwalk at the Docks. The flickering sign read Bobby's Bistro on the Beach, next to a faded icon of a swarthy man with a robust mustache. The building itself was built like a shoe box, two stories tall, but only the bottom was being used for the diner. Clear windows let Leandra see the patrons inside the restaurant, cramped in red booths and a dingy bar with the same colored barstools. The 'beach' was a litter-filled pile of sand.

Harvel got out of the car, and since Leandra didn't consider herself a Lady anymore, she didn't wait for him to let her out like usual. She was already around to the other side of the SUV, looping her arm around Harvel's.

Harvel chuckled and patted Leandra's hand as he led her inside. Upon entering the diner, they were immediately overcome by the cheery atmosphere and the scent of varying breakfast foods wafting through the air. People were chatting happily, the booths almost completely full. The red leather was cracked upon closer inspection.

A chubby boy in a red shirt and yellow shorts and a small girl with a green cat hat and pink frock were sword fighting with brooms and mops, ignoring the mess of eggs, bacon, and plate shards that were currently scattered all over the floor. They both had pale skin and shared the same black straight black hair and dark eyes, but the boy had a shaggy mullet while the girl wore pigtails.

"Hyah! Hyah! Take that you scallywag!" the girl was tiny, no older than nine, but she was ferocious. Her older brother could barely keep up with her timed swings.

"Ow! Ow! This buccaneer submits! Parsley! Parsley!" The boy tried to bat away the swings, but she was still beating his arms and stomach expertly.

"That's parlay, potato brain." The little girl swept his leg with her mop. "Death before surrender, you yellow-bellied coward!"

The boy stumbled, almost falling into the mess on the floor. "Easy, Luisa, you're going to ruin this outfit! It took me all morning to pick it out!"

The little girl smirked smugly, aiming the mop at his neck like a sword. "Then why do you still look like a hotdog wrapper?"

The boy gasped, placing a limp hand on his chest. "That's a sexy hot dog wrapper to you. My legs look incredible in these shorts!"

A deep voice came booming from the kitchen. "Kids, knock it off. I've got orders backed up in here."

There was an open window into the kitchen where Leandra could hear the sound of sizzling food and see a dark-haired swarthy plump man work the grill. He had a thick, robust mustache, and was single-handedly preparing several dishes so expertly, it was like he had four arms. Leandra instantly recognized him as Bobby from the sign.

A woman with red cat-eyed glasses, a red sweater, and a white apron came out from the kitchen holding a tray of eggs benedict and some Orlesian toast. It was obvious from her features that she was the children's mother. She had the same dark coarse hair, which she styled so its ends flipped up in a rather retro fashion. She scowled when she saw her children still play-fighting. "Dean! Luisa! Clean that mess up right now! Someone's going to get hurt tripping on that."

Her voice was distinctly deep and nasally, the kind of sound that grated like nails on a chalkboard.

Luisa smirked, jabbing her brother in the stomach and making him wheeze.

"Too late! My brother's blood drips from my righteous sword!" Then she put the mop over her head and bellowed a triumphant war cry.

Leandra couldn't help the tears pricking her eyes at the children playing. It had only been a few days since she'd heard Colette's bright laughter. But now Colette had been taken, just like all the rest of her family. She found she couldn't breathe at the thought of being surrounded by children's laughter.

The woman in red cat-eyed glasses saw Harvel and Leandra and slapped on a bright smile. "Harvel! Honey, it's been forever. How handsome you look. And you've brought such a gorgeous date, too." She balanced her tray in one arm, cocking her shapely hip as she placed a hand there.

Harvel chuckled and patted Leandra's arm. "Belinda, this is Lady Amell, my granddaughter's best friend. I thought she could use some comfort food."

Belinda's eyes lit up as she recognized the name. "The famous Leandra. Here in my restaurant at last. Oh, we'll treat you right, my Lady. My Bobby's food is the best."

Belinda snapped at a girl sitting at the counter, who was no older than thirteen, dressed in a blue shirt and skirt, and writing vigorously in a notebook. She had a severe bob and black thick horn-rimmed glasses that took over her face and enlarged her eyes by several sizes.

"Katrina, stop writing your fanfiction and help the customers. It's the breakfast rush!"

"Fiiiiiiine." The teenager threw her head back in a guttural groan, her voice surprisingly deep for her size. She picked up a couple of menus from off the counter and dragged her feet up to Harvel and Leandra.

She straightened up and in an overly formal monotone voice, she said, "Welcome to Bobby's, where we're egg-cited to meat you. That's meat with an a, by the way, not two e's. I know it's confusing 'cause it sounds the same."

Harvel chuckled, obviously used to this. "Hello, Katrina. Write any good stories lately?"

The girl's face lit up a bit as she said, "My Unicornian OC just got her fifth boyfriend," then she made a grimacing face. "But Renaldo is spicy. I'm not sure Neigha can hold onto that wandering stallion, but she's sure going to try."

Harvel ruffled the girl's hair with his knotted hand. "That sounds very exciting."

Leandra herself was surprised by the whole situation. She had never seen a restaurant run so chaotically. The place itself wasn't very clean. It was cramped and there had been a weird smell coming from the alley. There were also very questionable paintings of animal anuses decorating the walls. But still, the diners seemed happy enough with the food and seemed comfortable with the havoc the children were causing.

Was it even technically allowed for the children to work?

Katrina led them to the only booth available in the back. They had to walk around the other two children, who were reluctantly cleaning up the spill and doing a very bad job of it.

As they seated themselves, Katrina handed them the menus and pulled out a notepad and pen from her apron pocket.

The young teen smiled more ecstatically than before. "Should I tell my Dad to get your usual?"

Harvel winked. "Don't Go Bacon My Heart."

Katrina finished in the same deadpan voice, "Egg Couldn't If I Fried."

Leandra couldn't help the groan that came from her. All these breakfast puns were painful and made her miss Malcolm's equally terrible sense of humour more. She studied the menu, and it just got worse. 'I Want To Quiche You': obviously quiche. 'You Oat To Be Berry Sorry': berries mixed with homemade oatmeal. 'I Miss You Pig Time': pigs in a blanket. 'I Love You A Waffle Lot': stacked waffles with homegrown syrup. 'Please Bay Leaf Me': bay leaf egg curry. She blinked back a tear. If Malcolm was here, he'd be cracking up, making her feel even more miserable as he subjected her to more puns.

Why was she even here?

Katrina scribbled Harvel's order and then placed her notepad and pen in her front apron pocket. "I'll give you a few minutes to look at the menu."

Katrina then slumped off with hunched soldiers, but Leandra wasn't sure if she was sad or if that was just her usual posture.

Leandra scanned the menu, refusing to look at the names any longer and focusing on the descriptions. She was aware Harvel was looking at her with a grim look on his face.

"I know it hurts to hear, but the Maker has a plan, my dear. "

Leandra's head snapped up and an unexpected glare narrowed her eyes before she realized what she was doing. She swallowed down her anger, reminding her that he was an elder and she couldn't be disrespectful. Besides, he meant well.

"Of course," she said shortly and went back to reading the menu.

Harvel looked at his knotted hands, rubbing some of his joints. "When my Layla, and our Brahon and his poor wife, were killed by that drunk, I thought I should have been with them." His leaf-green eyes went so glassy, they shone like emeralds. "I should have been, but I slept in for Mass like usual. Always was a heavy sleeper. Maker, forgive me. Poor Layla was so done with picking up after me, I don't blame her for just leaving me behind but…" His hands clenched. "I should have been with her."

Harvel paused and closed his eyes. He looked like he was fighting tears, and his voice quivered as he continued speaking, "But then Mara would be all alone. Who would have taken care of that girl? She's already a loose cannon."

Leandra reached out her hand and intertwined it with Harvel's. "I know she needed you."

Harvel squeezed back. "I needed her, too." He looked at her with seriousness. "My family will always be in debt to yours. If there's anything I can do to make this moment easier, my Lady, don't hesitate to let me know."

Leandra wasn't sure she could do it but still, she smiled, though it took every ounce of effort. "You're already doing so much, Harvel. Please, I'll be okay." She wasn't sure that was even the truth, but the elderly man had enough of his own problems.

"Your order is coming right up, Harvel." Belinda was back with two orange juices with green flecks swimming in the liquid. "Now my Bobby is crazy about this juicer I got him last Satinalia and he's insisting everyone try out his special brew. On the house."

Harvel's eyes sparkled in delight. "You're always so kind, Belinda. I hope the new grill is working out."

Belinda laughed, a loud raucous thing like an airhorn. "Are you kidding? Bobby's practically making love to that thing every night. It's like I'm in a thripple now."

"Lin! Don't say that!" Bobby's booming exasperated voice came from the back. "And it's pronounced throuple by the way."

"That's what I said," Belinda called back to the kitchen. "A thripple."

Bobby sighed tiredly and went back to cooking.

Leandra took a tentative sip of the concoction and her eyes lit up. The juice was definitely tangy but very refreshing. There was a lemony zesty flavor mixed in that made it extra delicious.

Harvel took a hearty sip and his eyes widened. "Wow, what is this?"

"Orange, lemon and mint that Bobby grows at the community garden downtown. I swear that man thinks he's a Ferelden farmer or something. Always bringing home something new."

Harvel chuckled and cheered at Belinda. "Well, tell Bobby it's delicious."

Belinda smiled enthusiastically. "I'll be sure to tell him. Drink plenty. Bobby went crazy and made a whole barrel. My pee is turning orange." She guffawed at her own joke, taking out her notebook and pen from her apron. She turned to Leandra. "Did you figure out what you want, hon?"

Leandra wasn't really hungry so she picked the first thing she saw on the menu. "I think I'll just have pancakes."

Belinda scribbled down Leandra's order. "One 'Please 'Cake Me Back' coming right up," she winked at Leandra. "Omelet you know when it's ready."

Belinda and Harvel shared a hearty chuckle but Leandra's shoulders shook as the tears she was fighting burst up through her throat.

Suddenly she was weeping. All the buzz in the restaurant stopped as Leandra began to wail. She could hear Colette's voice in the children's laughter as they chased each other through the restaurant. She could feel Malcolm in every stupid pun. Malcolm and Colette would have loved this place, and the fact that they were no longer with her felt like a cruel joke being played by the Maker at her expense. She missed them so badly at this moment she couldn't stop herself from sobbing into her hands.

She grabbed wads of napkins and blew her nose hiding her burning face. "I'm sorry," she blubbered, but she couldn't stop herself from trauma-dumping to the whole restaurant. "I just went through a bad breakup and my aunt's in prison for treason and my niece was shipped off to Ferelden's Circle and it's just everything in my life is falling apart, and I don't know what I'm supposed to do, or how I'm supposed to pretend everything's okay anymore." She croaked, mortified that she was making a scene but she couldn't bring herself to stop.

Before she knew it Belinda was sitting beside her in the booth, wrapping Leandra in her arms, and cradling Leandra to her ample chest. The woman stroked her hair. "Oh honey, honey. That's so awful. How are you even out and about right now?"

Leandra blew her nose in the woman's shirt, realizing only moments later that was completely inappropriate but the woman didn't seem to mind. Leandra just continued to sob, clinging to the comfort the stranger had to give.

Dean, Luisa, and Katrina had all come crowding the booth, their little faces scrunched up in concern.

"Do you want a milkshake? That always makes me feel better," Katrina offered.

Luisa brought out a butcher knife she somehow managed to hide in her apron pocket. "If you need me to kill your ex, I'm up for hire."

Belinda scowled and yanked the knife from her daughter's hands. "Stop stealing those!"

Dean grabbed a toy keyboard from the counter. "Sisters, get your straws! It's time for us girls to save the day with a song!"

Leandra blinked back a tear, a little confused as the two girls ran behind the counter and grabbed some paper cups and put on lids, inserting plastic straws into them.

Dean started playing a simple bouncing tune on his bright blue toy keyboard, syncing his rhythm with a bumping beat emphasized with occasional fart noises. After a couple of measures, his sisters joined in, moving their straws so they squeaked along in time with each other.

Dean started to wiggle and jiggle his body wildly as his sisters flocked him on either side, dancing in place. And then Dean started to sing in an off-key voice.

"You want some eggs and bacon. Want some eggs and bacon."

Then his sisters joined in singing along, followed shortly by the diners and the rest of the restaurant, including Belinda, Bobby, and Harvel. Together the chorus of voices flooded the room, "Well there's some right here! And it's here for the taking."

The kids and the diners took turns repeating the same verses, echoing each other in a live jiving beat. Leandra looked around as Belinda sang loudly in her ear, feeling a little bizarre.

But the children were being absolutely adorable and it was hard to cry when they were putting on such a ridiculous show. The joy from the others was infectious and Leandra felt touched. That complete strangers would go so far out of their way to make her feel better was a comfort she didn't know she needed. Even if it didn't exactly fix her grief, she found a soft smile breaking through her tears as the song came to an end.

Belinda cupped Leandra's wet cheeks. "Alriiiight!" The woman dragged the word on longer than she should. "There's that big beautiful smile, again." She wiped Leandra's face, squishing her cheeks together. "You cry as long as you need, honey. You get to be selfish right now. Eat as much as you want. Sleep as much as you're able. Watch TV, and drink lots and lots of wine. The Maker made wine for moments like these." She brushed Leandra's bangs back in place, as if Leandra was one of her kids. "The world can be a dark place. That's why we need each other. The Maker might give us times of darkness but it's just so we learn not to take for granted our blessings. Happiness is temporary, but so is pain."

Leandra heard something similar before from Mara, and hearing her friend's advice echoed through a stranger made Leandra smile gratefully. "Bless you, Serah."

The woman waved a casual hand as she untangled herself from Leandra with a chuckle. "You blew snot into my boobs. You can call me Belinda. Belinda Burper." She grabbed the chef's knife she had confiscated from her daughter off of the table. "I'm sure Bobby's almost done with your orders by now. I'll have it right out."

Leandra dabbed her eyes with one of her discarded napkins, wishing that she could turn invisible right now, but still she smiled, grateful for this family's warmth and kindness.

—-

The rest of the breakfast went more cheerily. Leandra could confidently say these were the most delicious pancakes she ever had and she knew she would have to come back and try the rest of the menu someday. Belinda brought a glass of wine to go with Leandra's meal and she had to admit, even if the wine was cheap, it did calm her racing heart.

Bobby Burper sent Leandra and Harvel home with extra leftovers and two milkshakes. He refused to take payment no matter how much Harvel insisted.

They had to hurry to get back, because Leandra had realized her interview time with Brett Bauer was fast approaching, and she still wasn't ready. Harvel drove, and they chose to listen to the radio instead of chatting. Leandra didn't mind. She found she needed some time alone with her thoughts to prepare to spill her family's secrets to a stranger.

When Leandra and Harvel got to the house it was empty.

Harvel sighed in relief. "Thank the Maker. I thought I was going to get another headache."

Leandra sighed, hoping to have Mara's help to get ready, but she remembered that Mara had to go to a prenatal appointment today. Leandra was still getting used to sharing Mara with this new child, and she was fighting resentment, and then her guilt about that resentment.

Of course, Mara had to put her child first. That made sense, but Leandra, as excited as she was for Mara to be a mother, wondered how this was going to change their relationship.

She tried to put that out of her mind as she readjusted her makeup and brushed her hair into place. She went to get her phone off the charger to find it was missing. She retraced her steps, thinking she must have misremembered where she'd left it, but it wasn't on the coffee table in the living room, in the kitchen, or in Mara's room. And it wouldn't be in Harvel's room.

Leandra looked at the time and realized she'd been searching for so long that she was going to be late, but she had no idea how to even get there without her phone. She depended on her phone for everything.

She didn't want to miss her appointment, so she quickly hopped on her laptop, looked up the address for the news station, and called a cab from the home line. Putting the Council of Five's letter in her purse, she waited outside on the porch, puzzling where the phone could have gotten to. Did Mara take it? Did Leandra actually bring it with her to the restaurant and forget it there? Was she losing her mind in her grief?

Eventually the cab picked her up and took her to the news studio in Hightown. It was a white tall building with long square windows cut into its side. There were hedges lining the building, and the lot was completely filled with fancy cars.

Leandra slung her purse around her shoulder and stepped inside the building. As soon as she got inside, there was an island counter where a receptionist in a crisp grey business dress was seated.

The attractive blond woman greeted Leandra with a smile. Leandra noticed that for some reason the smile was strained, all teeth. The woman's eyes were suspicious, like Leandra didn't belong there. "Do you have an appointment, Messere?"

Leandra nodded. "Yes, I'm Leandra Amell. I was supposed to meet Brett Bauer at 11am. I know I'm a little late."

The woman's lips pursed together in a frown. "He's going to lunch soon, but you might be able to catch him if you hurry. He's on the third floor. Room 321."

Leandra smiled gratefully. "Thank you, Serah."

Leandra strolled to the elevator. When she got inside she noticed that everyone was staring at her with uncomfortable looks on their faces, like she was dressed weirdly or reeked with an offensive odor. The eyes of the people leaving the elevator were on her, the men leering at her curves and undressing her with bedroom eyes.

Leandra's cheeks grew hot. These were Hightown men. They should know better than to stare at her like that.

She tucked herself inside the elevator and pressed the button for the third floor, still aware that eyes were on her. It wasn't long until she reached the third floor and the elevator dinged, letting her out. She wandered through the halls, trying to find Brett's office. She had a strange sinking feeling as she walked like something was wrong.

Finally, she found Brett's office and knocked.

"Come in," said the voice inside.

Leandra opened the door to find a man with curly blond hair and a prominent nose that sat strongly on his handsome face. He had light hazel eyes that reminded her of the sky touching a sandy beach.

The man's strange eyes widened. "I'm surprised you came."

Leandra raised an eyebrow, letting herself in the room. "Why wouldn't I come? I need your help."

Brett puffed his cheeks, blowing out hot air. "Oooh, I really don't know how much help I'm going to be to you right now, Lady Amell. I tried to tell that to Jaheem, but he's too idealistic to see the truth sometimes."

Leandra sat herself down at his desk anyways. "What? Why won't you help? I have important information about Kirkwall's underground slaving network and their connection to my family. The world needs to know."

Brett gritted his teeth. "Yeah, but considering the source it came from, no one's really going to listen or believe you."

Leandra's cheeks grew hot, confused and offended by the implication. "Excuse me, I'm Leandra Amell. I come from one of the greatest Houses in Kirkwall. My word is the truth. Why wouldn't people believe me?"

Brett's eyebrow raised in a sharp, fine line. "You don't know?"

Leandra cocked her head. "Know what?"

Brett typed something into his computer and turned the screen to Leandra. What she saw heated her cheeks and made her breath stutter in humiliation.

The post was an article less than an hour old from a gossip column called the Noble Enquirer that focused on nobility's gossip and scandals. Leandra mostly ignored it, finding it to be frivolous, but now she found herself the star of an article titled "Leandra Amell, Kirkwall's #1 Darling Actually Secret Slut."

Her mouth dropped open with a gasp. Her eyes weren't able to register what she was reading.

"The Amell household has been the star of scandal after scandal. Today Revka Amell has been sentenced to Aenor for treason after applying for Tevinter citizenship for herself and her mage daughter.

Two days ago, the gossip mill was churning with rumors that Guillaume de Launcet broke off his engagement with Leandra Amell after discovering her affair with a foreign Rivaini noble. This has yet to be confirmed by the family, but witnesses at the scene said it was an explosive breakup.

Now it seems that the plot thickens as photos of Leandra Amell have been uncovered, revealing yet another relationship it seems she'd been keeping secret, one with, shockingly, a Circle elf."

On the screen were pictures, and not just any pictures, her and Malcolm's private nudes. Leandra meant to delete those, but she'd never gotten around to it. Now Malcolm and her naked bodies were posted for the whole world to see.

"The relationship, ironically enough, seems to have been going on as far back as Lady Amell's Betrothal Ball as one of the photos reveals. In an even bigger twist, the relationship seems to have been facilitated by none other than Knight-Captain Maurevar Carver."

And sure enough, the photo from the karaoke club was plastered on the screen. Malcolm's face was smeared with Leandra's lipstick. She was sidled up next to his cheek, still proudly wearing her betrothal gown. Carver was standing awkwardly in the frame, looking grim and uncomfortable.

"What does it mean when the Templar's second in command enables secret meetings between Circle mages and Kirkwall's elite? Are these the only relationships Leandra Amell is juggling or are there more beaus hiding under her skirt? If you have any juicy info let us know in the comments below."

The article was filled with comments, dozens of men claiming to have bedded her, and hundreds of people calling her a whore. Leandra's fingers shook, her cheeks hot. She wanted to hide from the world. She wanted to find a shovel and start digging her own grave.

Who could have done this? For a moment she considered Gamlen, his timing at the house peculiar, but she quickly dismissed it. He wouldn't. He couldn't.

Did Lady de Launcet hire someone to steal her phone? But when? How did this even happen?

Brett's lips were a thin line. "Even if I could somehow get your article greenlit by my editor, it's not going to do much. All anyone is going to talk about is this scandal."

Leandra's eyes pricked with tears. "But this doesn't matter! The Council of Five is selling Kirkwall's citizens! People need to be informed! Once people learn the truth, won't they do something about it?"

Brett laughed, the sound cruel. "You overestimate people." He leaned forward, steepling his fingers together. "People are addicted to outrage, but are essentially lazy. They'd rather bitch on the internet than get off their ass and do something." He swiped a finger over his clean-cut jaw. "I've been in this business a long time. Sure, you might get a few concerned individuals, but do something? I've never seen anyone do something unless it affects them personally. And I hate to say it, but that includes men as honorable as Jaheem."

Brett shrugged, leaning back in his cushioned computer chair casually, crossing his hands behind his head. "I'm not saying I don't believe you or that your information isn't real, but if it is, then the Council of Five will find ways to silence me and it looks like they already silenced you." He gritted his teeth in a bitter smile. "Sorry to waste your time, but there's nothing I can do."

Leandra fought to not let the tears spill. She thought things couldn't get worse. She thought the Maker couldn't be any crueler. Her hands shook and she grabbed her purse and started to flee, intent on going home and hiding in her room until she withered into dust.

As she put her hand on the door, Brett's words stopped her. "Jaheem deserves better than you."

Leandra looked back, eyes still glistening, to find Brett glaring at her in disgust.

"He seems to think you're this upstanding wholesome person, but," he pointed to her naked body displayed provocatively on the screen, "obviously you have him fooled." His beachy eyes turned stormy. "Do us both a favor and break up with him before you break his heart."

Leandra flinched and swallowed down her tears, fleeing the building as fast as she could.

Mara didn't expect to ever see Carver again after that interview at the Hanged Man, but there he was, sitting on her front porch, and it appeared that he was waiting for her to come home.

As she pulled up into the driveway, she couldn't help but note the way his eyes lit up when he saw her. Or was she just imagining it?

Mara's cheeks flamed as she walked up the steps of the porch, her eyes on her feet as guilt pitted her stomach. She had a feeling she knew why Carver was here but she never expected to have this conversation so she was at a loss for words.

Carver looked so intimidating, his gleaming armor making him look more metal than man, the Sword of Mercy flaming on his chest. She had no idea what was going through that head of his, but those eyes should be judging her, and they weren't. He seemed amused more than anything, and there was a bright grin on his face that contrasted against his dark skin.

He approached her and leaned on the porch frame, looking casual for the first time she ever seen him, a few strands of his black hair falling in his coffee-brown eyes.

Carver gestured to his split lip, showing it off like a trophy, and said, "Lord Amell gave me this. Apparently, I'm the father of your unborn child."

Mara put a hand on her growing belly, barely starting to bulge. She bit her lip. "I'm sorry. I know I made you look like a dick, but I panicked. I just couldn't let Gamlen know he was the father."

Carver cocked his head, true curiosity in his expression. "And why wouldn't you want the father in your child's life? It seems like a big responsibility to carry by yourself."

"Responsibility and Gamlen don't mix," Mara said bitterly, biting her bottom lip. She couldn't meet Carver's eyes. "Look, Gamlen's parents think I'm after their money already as it is. They think I fucked my way into power. But I don't want a damn copper. I never did. And Gamlen is just…" She couldn't find the words all of a sudden. Her heart was breaking again and tears stung her eyes. "Look, with or without him, I'm taking care of myself. I'm done. I'm a mom now. My daughter comes first and I can't let her grow up with a father like him."

"So where do I come in?" Carver asked, his eyes glinting.

Mara's eyes darted up to Carver, not sure why that question was even relevant. "I don't know what you mean."

Carver took a delicate step closer, making her heart jump. She could suddenly smell his delicious musk, like fresh pine. He was looking at her with a coy smirk, his coffee eyes warm and mischievous. "Well, Gamlen seemed really upset. He believed your lie quite easily, which makes me think that maybe he could see it, too."

Mara raised an eyebrow. "See what?"

Carver's eyes flashed as his grin widened, strangely predatory. "How we're drawn to each other."

Mara took a step back, almost tripping. Men didn't make her nervous but something about Carver left her usual confidence off-kilter. "Y-you're being ridiculous. We've had, like, two conversations."

Carver cocked his head to the side, his smirk lopsided as if he knew all her secrets. "And yet you chose me knowing it would hurt Gamlen, so I ask again? Where do I come in?"

Mara's mouth was going dry. She felt like denying everything, but he could clearly see the flush in her cheeks and hear the embarrassed tremble in her voice. "Why do you care at all?" she said defensively.

Carver kept his distance, but she still felt like he was too close. Like if she let herself she would just fall into this crushing black hole and be obliterated. His smile turned devilish. "I've always tried to be an honorable man, but now you've gone and sullied that by claiming I stole you right out from under a rival noble and impregnated you. Am I supposed to let you stain my hard-earned reputation? It seems the logical next step that I properly court you and take ownership of my child."

My child? Those words tumbled so easily from his lips.

Mara's throat was so dry she couldn't speak. She was completely floored by what he just said. "What? Why would you even want to claim a child that wasn't yours?"

"Well, she would be mine, wouldn't she?" He smiled gently like a cool breeze. "My daughter. I've always wanted a little girl."

Mara's breath stuttered in her throat by his tender expression. She could tell he truly meant that. But still, she couldn't register that a man so pure could exist. "You… I… What?"

Carver stepped forward and this time she didn't step back. She could feel herself falling into him, her head dizzy with his confession. He grabbed her chin and rubbed her bottom lip with his armored thumb, the metal cold and biting, his eyes darkly soft and hooded. "Can I kiss you? I've wanted to since I first laid eyes on you."

Mara felt like she couldn't breathe. She was swimming in his warmth. His touch felt like a comfort. She had never felt this rush of emotion with Gamlen. He was never this gentle. He never asked permission. Her arms reacted on their own, looping over his tall shoulders and pulling him down to her lips. She could feel the split of his healing cut scratching her. His tongue tasted like honey tea, so sweet and refreshing.

It was like something awakened in her, a feeling like everything clicking into place, like a puzzle being completed. Her lips sparked with energy. A current ran down her spine, shocking her. His lips were like dipping into a pool of liquid heat. She felt flushed with fever and so very wet. He was gentle but firm, his tongue stroking her as he pushed her back onto the door pinning her there. His beard tickled her lips leaving her in tingles. His hands slid up her thigh balling up her dress, his fingers trailing up. The current of electricity followed his fingers making her warm all over.

Then Carver pulled apart panting. "I'm sorry. That was too much."

Mara's arms were still wrapped around his broad shoulders. "Was it?" She raised an eyebrow, pressing up against him. She pulled his face down, his beard smooth and silky. "Or not enough."

He breathed against her mouth before pulling away. "As you said, we've had two conversations and you just got out of a serious relationship. We really should get to know each other. Do this right."

Mara traced her finger on his jaw, his neck tensing. "You're sticking around, right? There'll be plenty of time for that. Besides, there won't be much time once the baby's here, so…" Her hand slid down and fisted his already hard cock. "What are we waiting for?"

Carver groaned, his eyes fluttering closed. "Maker, help me, I'm trying so hard to do the right thing but I'm only a man."

Mara knew he was about to break so squeezed gently, stroking him, pleased with what she was feeling. "Don't you think you're already doing plenty?"

Carver growled, his jaw snapping tight. "You asked for it." Then something in him changed. He took her arms and pinned her wrists to the door with one of his hands and seized her with a fierce kiss. His massive body pinned hers and he spread her legs with his knee, lifting her up by her crotch while his other hand fisted her breast and squeezed, the hard metal on his fingers cutting into her.

It was so unexpected, the switch from gentle to domineering, that Mara was left off-balance. His kiss was like a rushing current pushing her over and battering her senseless. She felt herself being consumed by want. Her cunt ached against the pressure of his knee, her breast a tad sore, but the pain thrilled her. She could feel herself tremble with unexpected need.

He pulled away, his grip on her breast easing, his voice tender again. "Did I hurt you?"

Now it was Mara's turn to pant. "Damn, Officer. You've been holding back." Her cat eyes glimmered. "Don't."

He shivered against her, the devilish smile back on his lips. "Call me that again."

An impish smirk settled on her lips as she wriggled in his grip, her expression turning coy. "You're going to have to make me."

Carver's eyes flashed with delight. He grabbed her chin, his grip gentle but firm. "Oh, I'll make you." Then he kissed her again, leaving her breathless.

His tongue stripped her down until she felt naked under his touch. She needed him. She needed him like she had never needed anything else. She ground her cunt against his knee, her body craving some friction.

Then once she thought she would drown in him, he flipped her around his hands on her shoulders. "Open the door." A command.

Mara didn't know why his voice left her in tingles. Her spine went weak and she found herself obeying without thinking. Her hands shook as they fumbled for her purse.

As she worked, his hands slid down her shoulders, his touch smooth and blissful. And then his fingers slid up her skirt, lifting it up to bare her ass to the neighbors. "Mmmm," he crooned. With one hand he palmed her ass, the metal cold and biting, while the other unhooked her bra in one fluid motion.

Mara could barely focus on what she was doing, her hands trembling with excitement.

The door fell open somehow. As soon as it did, Carver picked her up by the knees and scooped her into his arms. Mara felt weightless, like a dainty princess. There was a fierceness in his eyes as he looked at her, a hunger in his gaze. Mara was grateful that Lolo was at the Senior Center's bingo game because she had a feeling Carver was about to devour her.

"Where's your bedroom?" he said in the same commandeering tone.

"Two doors on the right." She pointed sheepishly down the hall, suddenly very nervous.

His pace was more of a march. Mara could feel the butterflies fluttering in her stomach, her nethers tingling in anticipation.

Then he kicked open the door and flung her onto the bed. "Strip naked. Face on your pillow. Ass in the air."

Mara felt herself sinking into her bed, her hands trembling in excitement. She started to unbutton her dress as she met his gaze with the stare of a minx. "Yes, Officer."

He shivered again in delight. He then began to strip off his armor, though it seemed to be a process with all the buckles. Mara was already out of her dress when he'd barely stripped off his gauntlets.

"I was thinking, a few years down the line, our daughter might need a sibling."

How could he be so gentle and so fierce at the same time? Mara could feel her insides going soft at the thought. "I'll think about it."

Carver grinned, his expression hopeful. "That's all I ask."

But Mara knew she couldn't wait. Was this real? Was she going to have a family like she remembered? Would he really come home to her each night? Listen to her troubles around the dinner table? Help her tuck her daughter in? She was surprised Carver was thinking that far ahead, that he even wanted her with all her baggage. He really didn't know what he was asking for and she felt a little guilty roping him into the mess that was her life.

Her bra fell off her shoulders as she stripped out of her underwear. He was still working on his chest piece. "You want help?" she raised an eyebrow. At this rate, it would take a while.

Carver's gaze turned strict. "I gave you an order."

Mara's breath stuttered in her throat, a rush of liquid came rushing down as she lost her words. With trembling limbs, she immediately put her face on her pillow and stuck her ass in the air facing him.

"Mmmm… Now that's a sight I'll remember forever." She could hear him slowly work on buckle after buckle, the anticipation killing her, but he seemed to be taking his time. A few agonizing minutes later, his chest piece thudded to the ground. Her breath hitched as she started to hear him unbuckle his belt, her insides squirming. She jumped when his heavy tactical belt fell to the floor, her spine tingling knowing how close he was to touching her. She wished she could see what he looked like watching her, but there was a thrill of baring herself to him like this.

Much sooner than she thought she heard his heavy footsteps approaching, his weight dipping the foot of her bed. His hands traced the curve of her spine down to her ass where he palmed her cheeks and spread her wide, his touch leaving goosebumps in its wake. "You smell divine." His breath ghosted her thigh, trailing up to her already wet cunt. "You're already dripping. I need to taste."

Then he lifted her legs and put her cunt to his mouth. His hot tongue slipped through her folds, giving her a shock throughout her system. His tongue filled her, swirling in a few greedy strokes before it slipped to her swollen bud. She cried out, her fingers digging into the sheets as he continued to taste her, taking his time to really work her up. She could feel the heat radiating from his body, his fingers squeezing her thighs as his beard tickled her, making her more sensitive.

Gamlen was never this good with his tongue, not that he was lousy, but he never really liked going down on her. Though he was always asking for head.

Her legs went weak, her body collapsing in on itself, but he held her firm and at his mercy, not giving a moment to relent.

Then when she thought she couldn't take anymore, he tore his mouth away with a growl. "I can't wait. I need to feel what it's like inside you."

Mara wiggled her ass in his face as she giggled. "Then what are you waiting for, Officer?"

He chuckled lowly, dropping her and she fell down with a flop, face first onto the bed. She heard a crinkling sound and she looked back and saw that he had only yanked his pants down and to his knees and was pulling a condom out of his front pocket.

Mara couldn't help but grin. "You wanted to wait and yet you came prepared?"

Carver shrugged. "I wanted to be on the very slight possibility this might happen."

Mara's grin turned into a smirk. "But why bother? I'm already pregnant."

"I've been spending time at the Rose. I'd rather wait on that until I get tested. It's safer for you and the baby." Carver slipped the condom on his already hard cock. Mara couldn't stop staring at it. It was meaty and thick, definitely bigger than Gamlen's. She found herself needing to know what it felt like.

Still, she was taken aback. She had never met a man so considerate of anything other than his own dick. To think he was already protecting her, even from himself.

She used to think a goody-two-shoes like Carver would bore her, but she had never been so excited for anything in her life. She groaned as she bit her pillow. "Damn it, that makes me want you to fuck me raw even more."

Carver chuckled huskily, his hands guiding her hips backward. "Oh, you'll still feel raw." Then he penetrated her in one swift action.

Mara gasped, feeling stretched deliciously tight.

Carver groaned, but instead of moving, he ran his fingers down her back leaving fire in his wake.

"So how rough do you usually like it?"

Mara whimpered, impatient for him to get moving. "Give me all you got, Officer."

Carver chuckled. "I don't think you could take what I've got. Let's start with the basics. What's the furthest you'd go with Gamlen?"

Mara's face furrowed. Did he really want to know about her and Gamlen's sex life? "Well some hair pulling, biting, you know the works."

Carver grinned. "Then we'll start with that and discuss the other stuff later."

Then finally, finally he started moving, quickly picking up a rapid pace.

Mara couldn't help the moans escaping her throat. She could feel her ass cheeks smacking against Carver, her toes curling in delight. He palmed her ass, squeezing as he rammed her, his throaty groans driving her wild. Soon the bed was rocking and she was screaming his name.

Suddenly he yanked her hair, arching her back, pushing in at a deeper angle. The pain and pleasure were so sudden, she was overcome by both sensations.

She had never been fucked so roughly. She could feel herself jolt with every thrust, her moans quickly turning to squeals.

Mara was already so worked up so it wasn't long before the crest of pleasure rose to a maddening edge. She shrieked, her body convulsing, no longer able to carry its own weight. She was rocked senseless by the power of her own orgasm, all her energy spent. She wanted to collapse into the bed, but Carver held her firm by the hips and hair, keeping his rapid punishing pace.

She could feel his sweat drip down her back, could feel his strength in every thrust. He tilted her hips in a way that kept hitting that delicious spot again and again and again. Did the Rose give him lessons? She could feel another climax on the edge of the horizon, arriving so quickly she couldn't catch her breath. He leaned forward and bit firmly into her shoulder, grunting as he ground into her.

It was too much. She could feel herself tipping over the edge again so quickly that she could only let herself fall, the pain quickly overridden by mind-splitting pleasure. She squeezed him, her body twitching as a scream ripped her throat hoarse.

But still, he wouldn't stop. A third orgasm. A fourth. And then she started losing count. Mara could feel the edges of her sanity start to rip apart. Pain and pleasure were starting to mix together in even intervals. And he was right. She was completely raw and aching and, still, he wouldn't relent.

She felt like she could take no more, and she thought she'd need to beg for release, but finally he made one final thrust and burst inside her, going rigid. He groaned gutturally, his body shuddering against hers as he was paralyzed by his climax. She could feel his warmth filling her up, his body shuddering against hers.

He collapsed on top of her, his weight pinning her to the mattress. He was just a mass of hard muscle and soft skin and she could hardly breathe under him. She could feel the cold hard metal of his greaves against her calves. His dark skin was slick against hers, his chest hair sticking to her.

Mara was panting, her body completely spent. Her spine and legs were jelly, her mind utterly broken. "Fuuuuuck…" she rasped out. "I don't think I can walk."

Carver kissed the back of her neck, his beard tickling her. "Mmm… I love the way you smell right now."

Mara chuckled, shoving him with no energy. "I smell like shit."

He slowly rolled off her scooping her in his arms as he spooned her into a cuddle, still inside her. "You smell like cum and me. I'd bottle you up and take you with me if I could."

She laughed, his muscled arms suddenly so gentle. She rubbed her sore ass where Carver's handprint laid claim. He laid tender kisses behind her ears, stroking her skin with a light touch so different than before. She could feel herself melting into him and she sighed dreamily, realizing she had never been this happy in her entire life.

She wasn't sure how long she spent laying like this, with him just soothingly massaging her. He stroked the tension out of her face, eased the soreness of her scalp, and smoothed the stress in her eyebrows with soothing strokes. He kneaded her back, tracing every curve of her until she was relaxed and pliant in his arms, floating in a sea of bliss. He slowly grew inside her as she moaned under his touch, and she could feel herself stirring again.

Then once Carver was thick and hard again and she herself had grown hot with need, he checked his watch and grimaced. "I need to be back to the Gallows. I still have some reports to finish."

Mara groaned, disappointed though she wasn't sure she could handle another session. She couldn't even move.

He pulled out, her insides jolting as she was suddenly empty again. Then he turned her face to his, stroked her sweaty forehead tenderly, and captured her mouth in a soft kiss.

Mara sighed into it, sleepiness floating under her eyelids. He then rolled off the bed, peeling the condom off and dumping it in her trashcan. Then he hiked his pants back up his hips. He had some difficulty wrangling his hard cock back into his pants but somehow he did. Then he pulled the covers over her and tucked her in, making sure every part of her was protected and the sheets fit snug around her. She found herself floating in a cloud, so comfy as she drifted in and out of consciousness.

By the time Carver had his armor back on she was fast asleep.

Mara woke up sometime late in the night, her body still aching, her insides sore, the only proof that the time Carver and she shared even happened. She slowly got dressed with stiff joints and hobbled out into the kitchen where Leandra was nursing a cup of tea with a hard expression and red-rimmed eyes.

"So I saw Carver on his way out," Leandra took a sip of her tea, sniffing. "Not judging…" But her tone definitely was.

"Oh," a guilty blush bloomed on Mara's cheeks. In all the bliss she had forgotten that Leandra was supposed to come right home after visiting the news station. "Did you… hear anything?"

It was Leandra's turn to blush. "As soon as I did, I went out to get something to eat at Bobby's. Though… you were still at it when I got back. Your Lolo went to your cousin's for the night."

Mara groaned. That was going to be another lecture and she was already mortified. "Look, Leandra-"

"So the baby is Carver's?" Leandra's voice was hard.

Mara bit her lip as she weighed her options. She wanted to tell her friend the truth, but if it got back to Gamlen and he insisted on carving out a piece of her life, or worse Leandra insisted she let him, Mara wasn't sure she could handle that.

She needed a clean break from Gamlen. So she lied. "Yes… I'm sorry to disappoint you."

"I'm not disappointed," Leandra lied, her eyes dropping down at her teacup looking uncertain. "Are you… happy with him?"

A soft smile curved the edges of Mara's lips as she pressed her head against the door frame. Her heart was still fluttering at the thought of him. "More than I thought I'd be."

Leandra sighed, before nodding resolutely. "Then that's all that matters." She smiled at Mara. "Please… just tell me next time. You're my best friend. We don't keep secrets from each other."

Mara's cheeks flushed as her spine went weak with guilt. "No," she said, her breath stuttering. "We don't."

Aristride stared glassy-eyed at the article of Leandra on his phone. He thought he knew his daughter. And now he realized she was a complete stranger.

When did this happen? When did they become so estranged? When did she start keeping so many secrets? He thought he raised her better than this.

He clenched his fist. This had to be Mara's influence. That slutty girl poisoned his daughter's mind, persuaded her to make decisions she would never do. This couldn't be his Leandra. It wasn't.

His wife was outraged, rightfully. It wasn't hard to know who'd done this and Aristride waited with her to ambush Gamlen.

Gamlen came home late at night like usual, smelling like a brewery. His suit was disheveled and his steps wobbly. He froze when he saw his parents waiting for him.

Bethann scowled and slapped Gamlen across his face. "How could you do this to us?!"

Aristride flinched at the blow but said nothing.

Gamlen's head hung, but a broken chuckle shook his shoulders. "You wanted dirt on Leandra. I gave you dirt."

"Do you understand what you've done?! The Baudelaires have called off the engagement! We're humiliated! Do you think your father can possibly inherit the Viscount's seat now? We were already having enough trouble trying to distance ourselves from the disaster that was Revka and now it doesn't even matter! We're ruined!" Her eyes were bloodshot with anger, practically murderous. Bethann raised her hand again.

Gamlen laughed harder, the sound echoing across the foyer. "Good. Let it all rot away. Like I fucking care."

Bethann went to smack her son again, but Gamlen caught her wrist by the hand.

Bethann struggled in her grip, shrieking, "How could you ruin Leandra like this?! You should have come to us with this information instead of the press!"

Gamlen snarled viscously, spit flecking from his mouth. "Even now, it's always about Leandra, Leandra, Leandra! Fuck Leandra! I was the good son! I stayed when she left! You could be a little fucking grateful for once!" Gamlen threw his mother's hand away, making her stumble back. "Face it! Leandra abandoned you for her own cunt! I'm the only loyal child left, and does that even matter to you? Do I even matter to you?!"

His mother huffed angrily, her usually neat hair becoming unkempt. She clenched and unclenched her hands, her nails like claws. "You stupid boy! You were always the slow one. If you had half the smarts Leandra did, you could have been something, but even now you don't act with even half a brain!" She picked up a candlestick and threw it past Gamlen's head, and it crashed into the wall with a thud. "I wish I had never given birth to you! I should have aborted you!"

Aristride wanted to step forward and tell his wife she was out of line. That she was just making things worse with her temper, but he just clamped his mouth shut and made himself small as she finished her tirade.

Gamlen growled, his shoulders trembling. "Yeah, you should have. Would have saved us both a lot of trouble." He angrily loosened his tie off his collar and threw it on the ground. "Fuck you, Mom! I'm glad everything's ruined. Fuck this whole void-forsaken family!" Then Gamlen stormed out of the mansion and slammed the door shut.

Aristride clenched his hands and closed his eyes. He was losing everything at once. And he couldn't help but feel like this was all punishment from the Maker.

Was Leandra right?

Bethann threw herself on the couch and started weeping, tearing at her hair. Aristride had never seen her like this. Bethann was always a poised and composed woman, but now his wife was neurotic and coming apart at the seams, lashing out at everyone and everything like a rabid dog.

He sat beside his wife and touched her shoulder, but Bethann slapped it away.

She glared at him, her face splotchy and in anguish. "Where did we go wrong, Aristride? How did this even happen?!"

Aristride's lips thinned into a fine line, unable to come up with a good answer. He took his wife's hand gently. "Perhaps we should ask for guidance from the Maker."

"His guidance?" Bethann choked out a laugh. "As if He ever guided us before."

Aristride gripped the corner of the couch tightly. "I'm scared, Bethann," he finally admitted. "I know things are dire with the Viscount's seat, and the Council of Five pressing on our loans…" He looked down. "But we lost Leandra. And now I fear Gamlen." His eyes turned misty. "What do we have left if we don't even have our children?"

Bethann paused for a moment and then squeezed her face tightly in a grimace. "Aristride, what do we do?"

Aristride took his wife's hands, rubbing her palm with his thumb. "I don't know, Bethann. I really don't."