Carver was in a rather cheery mood after he visited Mara. It was an understatement that he needed a chance to relax. Carver had been working non-stop since the Haunting of the Ball, and with this new abomination investigation, he probably wouldn't get another day off for a while.

Still, he knew he would have to carve out more time with Mara somehow. He was impatient for more of her.

Mara's touch rejuvenated and invigorated him, and his head was clear from aches, his mind alert and his body loose and warm. The smile couldn't leave his lips, as he retraced the memory of their moment together, remembering every touch, smelling her skin, hearing every moan. He was worried he might have pushed her too far, but she seemed to respond to his domineering side much better than he anticipated. He was already planning to set aside a time to talk to her about the boundaries of play he had in mind for their next session, but he was also curious about what other kinks Mara might be interested in exploring. He was looking forward to getting to know that side of her, eager even. It was hard for him to focus on anything else when she left him throbbing.

His hair was still wet from the shower he took, though he was reluctant to get rid of Mara's scent. Still, he couldn't be walking around the Circle smelling like sweat and sex. He already had enough rumors following him.

He whistled happily as he poured over some of the notes that Taylor had been able to gather from her research. She somehow managed to come up with a whole binder of facts. Carver thought that it would take a lot of time to figure out the information he needed, but the glossary and index she provided at the front made figuring out the relevant details relatively quick.

The Formless One's entry had not been completely decrypted, but from what Taylor was able to gather, the book told of a summoning ritual as well as a binding ritual. The details of the ritual she was still researching but it was definitely a blood magic spell, and a very dangerous one.

She also listed a long series of facts about Somniaris. Carver admitted he knew that they were lethal, but he had no idea that Malcolm was able to go into sleeping people's minds and slay them. Change people's hearts like he was rewriting a book. Or shape the Fade like clay. Apparently, the original Tevinter magisters who entered the Fade were Somniaris, trying to merge the waking world and the Fade. Taylor cited many other tales of Somniaris throughout history, changing the shape of Thedas for good but mostly ill.

Carver was impressed how much Taylor was able to figure out in such a short time. He was sure she would soon crack the secrets of the summoning and binding ritual, and they might be able to take care of this problem before it got too out of hand.

Carver was busy filling out more reports, as well as taking care of some of the more managerial duties of the Circle, making sure paychecks went out on time, that the lyrium supply was still steady and evenly distributed, and that the Circle's budgets were properly balanced.

Circle finances were always strained. The only income they could really count on was from the enchantments made by the Tranquil and what could be extorted from healing, exorcisms and cleansings. Carver knew the Knight-Commander was still feeling sore about the loss of Lady de Launcet's patronage.

Carver was deep in his reports when the Knight-Commander stormed into his office red-faced and fuming. Meredith strolled in casually after, flanking him, with a gleeful razor smile on her pale lips.

Carver stood up and saluted as expected of him. It was unusual for the Knight-Commander to visit but, given the investigation, Carver figured he had some relevant news. "Ser. Is there a problem?"

With a scowl, the Knight-Commander threw a newspaper onto Carver's desk. "You're damn right there's a problem!"

Carver's jaw dropped as he saw the front page. The headline read "Kirkwall's Knight-Captain Found Partying Night of the Haunting." It was the photo from the karaoke club, Malcolm still in his suit from the ball, Leandra's lipstick smeared all over his mouth. Mara and Gamlen were arm in arm on camera, a scowl on Gamlen's face. And there Carver stood just off to the side from Mara, looking grim and uncomfortable still in his gleaming ceremonial armor.

Carver knew he was fucked.

The Knight-Commander slammed his hand on his desk. "You made our force into a laughingstock! What in Andraste's name were you even thinking?!"

Carver gritted his teeth and closed his eyes. He had no answer the Knight-Commander wanted to hear.

Meredith was thoroughly enjoying Carver getting eviscerated by their commander. She waited patiently like a lioness in the grass, waiting for her moment to pounce.

The Knight-Commander huffed heavily. "Do you have nothing to say for yourself? Do you even regret what you did?!"

That's when Carver looked his commander straight in the eye and, for the first time in his life, he told him the truth. "No, I don't regret a thing."

Steam plumed out of the Knight-Commander's ears as he went a shade redder. "You are stripped of your rank and your badge will be confiscated. You are also arrested for aiding a mage in escaping the Circle and corrupting the nobility."

Carver sighed, his shoulders sagging in defeat. "I would be surprised if you didn't."

Meredith finally stepped up, cuffs in hand. "Finally, I get to put you in these."

Carver grimaced as she walked around his desk, yanked his arms behind his back, and cuffed him extra tight. Carver didn't fight, knowing that it would be useless to do so.

The Knight-Commander sneered, his thin lip curling. "Meredith will be cleaning up the mess of your incompetence. And there will be an investigation to see if there are any more secrets you're hiding!"

Carver looked to the ceiling, silently praying to the Maker, but he knew He couldn't hear him.

Leandra and Mara found out that Carver had been arrested from the news the following morning. Leandra felt so guilty. She had been resentful of Mara for having something good in her life while her own life was crumbling to dust, and then that good was taken almost as soon as it was given. It didn't seem right. It didn't seem fair. Leandra had insisted on that photo and now her foolishness cost her friend her love and Carver his job and freedom. Leandra felt like her curse was rubbing off on Mara, infecting her with her misfortune.

Mara was screaming unintelligibly, throwing her shoes from the rack at the walls and making a mess. This quickly made Harvel retreat to the safety of his room.

"This is all Gamlen's fault! I know it! That rotten bastard has a black hole for a heart!"

Leandra flinched, instantly wanting to defend her brother, but she remembered she'd thought the same thing. "You don't know that."

"Who else could it have been?!" Mara ranted, her shoulders heaving up and down with her angry gasps. "Who else came into my house and stole a bunch of shit?! Who else even knew about the karaoke club?!" She made an infuriated shriek as she tore at her hair, ripping out a few short chestnut brown strands. "Gamlen would rather see me miserable and alone, struggling to make ends meet to feed this child, than let me be happy!" She picked up a vase of Jaheem's lilies and threw it at the wall, shattering it. "I hope he fucking rots in the Void!"

Mara collapsed to the floor, sobbing heavily, as she held her stomach, rubbing it through her ruffled shirt as if she was trying to comfort her unborn child.

Leandra grimaced. Mara was going to run out of vases at this point. Leandra still didn't think it was Gamlen, but she knew this was not the time to argue with Mara. Her world was falling apart and she needed Leandra to not be, well, Leandra.

Leandra still felt stuck in her own grief, tired and ragged, but she sat beside her friend, took one of her hands, and intertwined their fingers. "You're not going to raise this baby alone, Mara. You'll have your Lolo and me. And Carver is nobility. He'll be out before you know it."

Mara's shoulders shook as she cried, and then she threw herself onto Leandra and clung to her. She was gripping Leandra so tight she could barely breathe.

"I don't know what I'd do without you," Mara sobbed.

Leandra hugged her back, closing her eyes as she smelled Mara's heavenly rosedrop scent, a comfort to her own aching heart. Leandra was not able to do much more than rub her back. "I don't know what I'd do without you, either."

—-

Leandra didn't show up for rehearsal Wednesday or Thursday, but soon it was Friday night and she had a performance that couldn't be missed. Jaheem was going to be there to support her, or at least that's what they had discussed. They hadn't exactly talked since the scandal had been revealed.

She wondered if Jaheem would even show up for the show? Did he hate her now, like everyone else?

When she showed up at the Opera House she could feel the stares of everyone around her and her cheeks flushed as she tried to ignore them. She was dressed extra modestly, a black dress with a high lace neckline, long sleeves, and a skirt that reached the ground. This dress hid her curves rather than emphasized them, but still she could feel the men staring regardless.

Leandra had missed rehearsal that morning, but she'd worked so hard to become the first chair that she couldn't bring herself to let everyone down and sit this out.

As she stepped into the Opera House and heard the excited buzz of the audience gathering in their seats, she felt instantly at home. The curtains of the stage were rich and red, the set a recreation of the gates of Golden City, before it was blackened with sin. The theater was her home. She would always be safe here.

She looked forward to a night of music, her fingers warmed up and ready to play, her mind ready to forget all the pain just for a few moments. But when she got to her seat under the orchestra pit, everyone was staring at her like she was a wild raccoon that had wandered in. She had a feeling she was about to be shooed out with a broom. When she looked at her spot, her heart sunk as she found it had already been filled by none other than her dear friend, Lady Heather Crawford.

Leandra could see the disgust in Heather's ivy eyes, a look that she usually reserved for foreigners or Lowtown thugs. Heather made it a point to sniff sharply and snap her head away, her strawberry blond ponytail flipping over her shoulder.

Leandra didn't have to be told that they were no longer friends.

Leandra wasn't sure why she was surprised. She hoped if she were in Heather's shoes she might be more understanding, but she knew herself better than that.

The conductor, a portly man named Ser Raul, came up behind Leandra and tapped her on the shoulder with a sausage finger.

He had a strict look on his rather ruddy square face. His graying brown hair was slicked back and shiny, his black suit crisp and sharp. "I thought I called and left you a message. You no longer work here."

Leandra didn't get that message because she still didn't have a phone. She could get a new one, but the plan belonged to her parents, and she'd have to go to them for a replacement. And with all the humiliation, she just couldn't bring herself to go out in public and get herself a new line.

The tears stung Leandra's already sore eyes. "What?" her mouth dropped. She knew it would be useless to argue, but still, she said, "Please, Ser, I worked so hard to get here."

Ser Raul sniffed sharply, crossing his arms. "There's nothing I can do, Leandra. You signed a contract and violated your morality clause. We can't possibly have you representing us."

Leandra clutched the case for her new lute, a cheap replacement rather than the antique that had been passed down for generations. She ducked her head so he couldn't see her expression. She didn't want the tears to stream down in front of everyone, so she hurried away before they could start to fall.

Leandra quickly wiped her face, clamping down more tears as she walked out to the sidewalk, hearing whispers following her. She tried her best to school herself to show nothing, but it was apparent how upset she was by the flush on her cheeks and the rasp in her breath. She was intent on hailing a cab, but two passed her by before she realized they were ignoring her. She did notice that the driver who took her to the Opera House was rather eager to leave and sped off from the curb after dropping her off.

A third cab passed her by, and then Leandra snapped. She growled, took a heel off her foot, and was about to throw it in the street when a rich timbre voice sounded behind her. "Lady Amell?"

Leandra looked behind her to see Jaheem raise an inquisitive eyebrow. She had unshed tears shining in her eyes that she quickly blinked away. She hunched her shoulders sheepishly and quickly placed her foot back in her heel, thoroughly embarrassed.

Jaheem stepped forward, dressed richly in a shimmering silver suit with a ruffly white tie. He had another bouquet of pink lilies in his hands. "The show is about to start. Why aren't you inside?"

Leandra turned her head away as she whimpered, the pain too fresh for her to speak.

The tears pricking her eyes seemed to give Jaheem the answer to his question. He stepped forward and offered his hand. "Would you like to go somewhere else, my Lady?"

She swallowed down the tears she was fighting, knowing that people were crowding and watching her like she was in their personal teledrama. She slipped her hand in his, his warmth feeling like safety. "Can you just take me home?" She closed her eyes, willing her tears not to spill. "Please?"

Jaheem nodded and led her away from the crowd gathering at the theater, back to the parking lot where his car was waiting. He helped her into his Mercado Benz and placed the lilies in her arms. He got in on the other side, pulled out of the lot and back towards the highway, and traveled back to Midtown.

The car ride was unusually quiet, stifled, and stiff. The dark of the night couldn't hide Leandra's shame. She was aware that Jaheem kept glancing at her. She thought he should be judging her, but judgment was the last thing in his eyes. He seemed worried, instead.

Finally, they pulled onto the street where Mara lived, and Jaheem finally said, "I'm sorry about Brett. I don't understand that man. We've known each other since college. He should know better than to behave like that."

Leandra widened her eyes, her head snapping to Jaheem. "I didn't tell you what Brett said."

Jaheem twisted his full lips in a grimace. "You didn't need to. After he told me he turned down your article, he tried to talk me into breaking up with you and into giving up on going after the Council of Five. He practically told me what an ass he was himself." He gritted his teeth. "I'm so disappointed in him. He works as a journalist. He should know better than to listen to a stupid gossip column."

Leandra was unsure she heard right. "You're not mad at me?"

Jaheem gripped the wheel. "Well, I was raised better than to jump to conclusions. I thought I should come to you before I made any." Jaheem glanced at Leandra. "I know it's probably the last thing you want to talk about, and I know we never had any conversations about where we're going in this relationship. But before moving forward, I feel like it's fair of me to ask: what does that man mean to you?"

Harvel's SUV was missing from the driveway, so Jaheem pulled up next to Mara's white economy car. The porch light was still on for Leandra.

Leandra looked down at her hands, her cheeks flushed, unsure of what exactly to say. The truth made her look terrible, and she feared that Jaheem would see her true colors.

But still, she knew lying would only make things worse.

"Malcolm… is my ex-boyfriend," Leandra bit her cheek, sadness filling her heart at this fact. "I broke up with him because I found out he was cheating on me… but I guess I deserve that because I was cheating on Guillaume." She wished she had ended things better with him. He had always been such a good man, a good friend. He'd deserved an honest conversation, not to be toyed with and discarded. That was a mistake she didn't want to repeat here with Jaheem.

She couldn't bring herself to tell Jaheem about Malcolm's lyrium dealing. She just wasn't sure what Jaheem would think about that, and she wasn't sure if he'd be able to extend any sympathy to Malcolm. Not that she was exactly extending hers.

Jaheem nodded, seeming to accept that answer. "He was at your niece's party and, with the timing, I'm just wondering… if you still have feelings for him."

Leandra's heart lurched. It was a fair question to ask, but to be honest, she didn't know how to answer. She knew every part of her yearned for Malcolm. He was her first thought when she woke up, and her last when she went to sleep, and even in her dreams she couldn't escape from him.

But he was unfaithful. And she couldn't abide taking advantage of people's addictions for money, no matter what reason he thought to give her. As much as she loved him, he just wasn't the man she thought he was. "It's over between me and Malcolm. It doesn't matter what I feel."

Jaheem's face was carefully schooled and he looked at his hands on the steering wheel. "And how do you feel about me?"

Leandra bit her lip. She didn't want to lead another man on and be the heartbreaker Brett said she was, so she said, "I honestly don't know yet. I think I'm still figuring that out."

Jaheem nodded and gave her a reassuring smile. "I think that's fair. I guess I'm still figuring my own feelings out myself." He reached out and squeezed her hand. "We can take this a step at a time. There's no need to rush."

Leandra's eyes were pricking with grateful tears, clutching his flowers closer to her chest. "Thank you for understanding. There's just so much in my life happening right now, I feel like I can't even catch my breath."

Jaheem patted her hand, his cocoa eyes warm. "I can only imagine the stress you're under with this scandal coming at the heels of losing your aunt and niece. If there's anything I can do, my Lady, please don't hesitate to tell me."

Jaheem was so unexpectedly understanding that Leandra found herself leaning over the seat to hug him, crushing his flowers between them. His spicy citrus scent flooded her, and while it wasn't intoxicating, his warmth was a comfort. "Thank you… for not judging me."

Jaheem chuckled and rubbed her back soothingly. "It's not my job to judge people. That's the domain of Gods like the Maker." As she pulled away, he cupped her cheek making her skin warm, his hands soft. "Please try to get some rest. You've had a very eventful week."

Leandra found her heart fluttering, bubbling with hope by her response to him. She thought if he went to kiss her, she would let him, but he pulled away instead and gave her room to breathe. She found that breath unsteady. "Thank you for driving me home, Jaheem."

Jaheem's brilliant white smile was back. "Anytime, my Lady."

Leandra exited the car and walked inside the house, finding a tired yawn caught in her throat. She expected to be greeted by Mara, but there was a note on the coffee table for Leandra, saying that Harvel and Mara decided to see a movie and there were leftovers in the fridge.

Leandra really wasn't hungry, so she placed Jaheem's limp flowers on the coffee table and decided to hop in the shower to wash away some of the shame she felt. The warm water soothed the tenseness she was feeling in her shoulders, and she wiped away all the day's grime and nervous sweat. She felt marginally better stepping out of the shower, her body relaxed and ready for sleep.

Since Harvel and Mara weren't home, she wrapped herself in a towel, and went straight to her room, hoping that tomorrow would be a better day. But when she opened the door, Malcolm was waiting for her on her bed.

She screamed, her heart jumping into her throat. Immediately she grabbed the bat that she kept near the door for intruders, raising it in the air threateningly. She couldn't let Malcolm get close enough to touch her with those tantalizing fingers. "What are you doing here?!"

Malcolm hopped up, backing away towards the window, looking ready to jump out. "Wait, wait, wait! I just want to talk!"

Leandra huffed storming up, the bat raised. "I told you I never want to see you again!"

"I know! I know! But I had to tell you something important-"

"I don't want to hear it!" Then Leandra swung.

Malcolm leaped out of the way, backing into the corner of the room, knocking into Mara's parents' oak dresser, rattling the vanity mirror and scattering Leandra's makeup into a pile.

And then Leandra's towel came loose from its tuck and fell to the floor.

Immediately Malcolm's eyes dragged down to Leandra's naked body, his pupils dilating, his mouth dropping open as a bulge formed in his pants.

Leandra yelped and dropped the bat with a thud. She scrambled for the towel, rushing to cover herself, completely flushed from head to toe.

That broke Malcolm out of his spell and he turned to face the corner, pulling at his curls as he muttered, "Idiot, idiot, idiot!"

Leandra dove for the closet, looking for one of her robes. She pulled the first soft pink silk slip she could find and tied it tightly around herself so every part of her was covered.

Malcolm stayed facing the wall, not daring to look behind him. "Look! I'm not here in some ploy to get you back, I swear!"

Leandra's cheeks were hot, her ears burning. "Then why are you here?! Are you telling me it was actually you who posted those photos?!"

"What!?" Malcolm shouted. "How could you think that? This hurts me as much as it hurts you!"

Leandra snorted. "I highly doubt that."

Malcolm sighed tiredly, but didn't argue. "Look, I'm going to find who did this and take care of them." His shoulders were hunched. "But… I kind of have some bad news to tell you that's… kind of… related to the photos…" His voice kept trailing off as if he was having major difficulties finishing his sentence.

Leandra huffed heavily. She wasn't sure how much more bad news she could take. "What? Tell me, how can you possibly make my life worse?"

Malcolm flinched, his back tense and rigid. There was a lingering awkward silence, as Malcolm dragged the moment on, but finally, he said, "We… kind of… made a sex tape."

"What!?" Leandra screamed. She picked up the bat on the ground and threw it at him.

It hit him in his back, and he cried out and staggered to the ground.

"How did this even happen!?"

Malcolm groaned pitifully into the fuzzy rug, rolling on his side, his eyes still shut tight. She didn't think she threw it that hard, but it seemed like she had hit a sore spot.

"Look, I'm sorry," he wheezed. "I didn't think my boss would have cameras in the bathroom. But I swear, I'm taking care of all of it! The photos, the tapes. Everything! And once I do you'll never hear from me again."

Leandra growled, her fists balling. "I don't believe you!"

Malcolm staggered upright, his back still hunched, but he didn't dare open his eyes. He unwrapped her ribbon from his wrist and then dangled it at her in an offering. "Here, you can have this back. I shouldn't have kept it from you in the first place." He gritted his teeth as he turned his head and muttered, "Give it to Jim or whatever."

Leandra froze, surprised and suddenly conflicted. This was such a switch from the last time they had seen each other. She was sure he would take advantage of her compromised form, but even now his eyes were shut tight, not daring to peep until she gave the okay.

Leandra walked up and wrapped her fingers around the ribbon, and there it was again. The spark on her skin as her fingers brushed his. That dizzying clover musk, so fresh and addicting. The tightness in her chest as she found it hard to breathe. The racing gallop of her heart.

She reluctantly took the ribbon back from his fingers, questioning everything she wanted. "His name's Jaheem…"

Malcolm flinched at the name, as if she hit him again. "Yeah," he said bitterly. "Him." He cleared his throat rubbing the back of his neck. "Well, um, that's all I really came to do. I'll get out of your hair now." And with eyes still closed he reached for the wall and started fumbling towards the window.

Leandra found her footsteps following despite herself. He was a cheater, she reminded herself. A lyrium dealer. A liar. But now that he was walking out of her life for good, she realized she didn't know how to feel about it.

He started to climb out the window and Leandra's hand reached out and grabbed the hem of his shirt. "Malcolm!"

He turned back, daring to finally peek. His honey eyes were glowing with gold. The freckles on his dark face reflected the constellations in the sky. His face was so beautiful, her heart ached to think this would be the last time she would ever see it.

He waited, silently and expectantly, for her to finish her sentence, but she couldn't bring herself to say what she truly wanted. Cheater. Liar. Thug. She repeated these things in her mind, reminding herself he was wrong for her even though her heart was telling her that he would be the only one to make her feel like this. That she would spend the rest of her life dreaming of his face.

Leandra pulled her hand back. "Thank you for giving this back," she said instead.

Malcolm nodded and smiled wistfully. "It wasn't mine."

And then he hopped out the window and out of her life.

Avarice didn't regret a lot of her decisions. It came with the territory of knowing exactly what you wanted. But there was one decision she was definitely regretting now.

When Zelophehad first offered his power to her, she was made to understand that loyalty would be rewarded and that she would be able to eat her fill, but she'd been lied to. All he had given were scraps, and she was barely able to sustain herself.

Zelophehad was greedier than she anticipated, more devious too. A demon's word was usually their bond, and to go against it would be to destroy oneself. But Zelophehad was not exactly a demon, and so was not bound by the same rules that she was.

Technically since Zelophehad had betrayed her, any contract between them had broken, and Avarice was free to leave. Leaving, however, would mean the end of her.

But as she watched Possession cower in front of the Nightmare, she knew so would staying.

Possession's fingers were intertwined together as her shark tail flopped pitifully, groveling.

Zelophehad's goat eyes narrowed at her, his dark and shadowy form looming as his sharp teeth twisted in a snarl.

"How could the curse be breaking already? Did you not strike directly at his heart?"

Possession flinched, her fin-like ears falling back into her head, her sharp pupils thinning. The gills on her neck opened in panting gasps. "I did, Master! But his actions have weakened me. I fear it may not be long before I'm purified."

An inky black tentacle wrapped around Possession's scaly neck and lifted her high into the air, squeezing tight. "Why did he not take Leandra? Why did he not kill Jaheem? Everything was in place! Why did the curse fail?!"

"His will was stronger than I anticipated." Possession's voice was weak, barely a whisper as she wheezed out her reply. "We made a mistake and pushed the Somniari too far. He fears becoming his father more than anything else. He would rather destroy himself."

Zelophehad growled, a sound like static. "Incompetence!" He threw Possession so hard into the ground that parts of the Fade cracked.

Possession whimpered, shivering. "Please, Master! Have mercy!"

"Mercy? That is not my name." Zelophehad laughed in a warped wet voice. "It was a mistake to trust in your power. Love was always the weakest of spirits. Perhaps Possession is just as flawed." He smiled sharply in a predatory gaze. "I think you've outlasted your usefulness." His jagged mouth started to unhinge, rows of triangle teeth lining the whole cavity. Then he pounced on Possession, swallowing her whole.

Avarice watched passively, blank faced, as Possession screeched in pain. Her essence would be broken down and redistributed into Zelophehad, her lands now his to command. There was a sound like cloth ripping and shredding, and he devoured her until she was only scraps, which he licked up voraciously.

Zelophehad raised his inky black head in a wicked grin. Possession's blood oozed off him as he stood. He spotted Avarice and smirked. "I will spare you, since it seems that it is indeed useful to have a pawn working outside of the Fade."

Avarice bowed her head. "How generous of you."

But Zelophehad didn't seem to register her sarcasm. He wiped his mouth, some purple shreds of Possession's scales still mangled on his jagged teeth. "The Somniari is close to falling apart. I can taste it. His Bond is broken. Kindness is almost dead. Honesty stunted." Zelophehad's goat eyes narrowed sharply. "We must focus on the Compassion spirit. Without her, there will be none left who dare stand up to me, and then the Somniari will be mine." He clenched a dark, shiny claw. "She has thwarted me every step of the way and she must pay for her meddling."

Avarice nodded. "A logical next step."

"I guess it's time for another hunt. I'm still feeling rather hungry." Zelophehad sniffed sharply and then disappeared to another part of the Fade.

Avarice leaned back against the wall, considering her own next step. She knew his 'generosity' would only extend for so long.

If her Master was so fickle, maybe it was time to find a way to break the chains. And she knew just how to do it.