Malcolm wheezed on the dungeon floor, trying to not put weight on his cracked ribs. The blood dripped from his broken nose and pooled beneath him. It hurt to breathe, so he tried to stay as still as he could, hallucinating demons in the shadows.
If these cells weren't warded to prevent magic he would have healed himself by now. But he could only lay there and groan, hearing the pain in his voice echo back against the chipped walls.
At least the cold of the stone soothed his burning skin.
To state the obvious, things were dire. It seemed like the Circle was quickly spiraling with Meredith as its new captain. Malcolm wondered if it was time to make his escape now, before his luck ran out. But that would cause a manhunt, and the Templars were nothing but efficient. They'd use his phylactery to drag him back no matter where he hid.
Regardless of all of that, Malcolm knew in his heart, he wouldn't leave without Leandra.
Idiotic, one might say – to be holding onto this flighty fantasy when he was so close to becoming a drooling Tranquil idiot. But Leandra came for him – defied the Templars for him, and got arrested for him. He worried about where she was now.
They hadn't exactly talked properly since she had come to interview him with that pretty rich boy of a lawyer, but he knew he wasn't imagining the love he felt from her.
Malcolm would see this through, no matter the cost, as long as he could have Leandra in the end.
But he knew his days in the Circle were numbered, and he was already trying to find the words within him to convince Leandra to flee with him.
He didn't have them.
With nothing but time to kill, Malcolm retreated into his dreams. Already the pain in his body was numbing to a dull ache, and it was easier to breathe now that his nose wasn't mangled. His eyes fluttered open to see a golden owlish figure waving excitedly at him.
He jumped, not expecting the spirit to be hovering so close.
Honesty flitted back, settling on a giant red spotted mushroom, with a big eerie grin splitting her face.
But it wasn't just any face. It was Taylor's face that Honesty was wearing.
"Great news, Somniari!"
Malcolm pointed an accusing finger at Honesty, his anger bristling before he could pull it back. It coiled out like a whip, lashing at her.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing?!"
Chef came up behind Malcolm, and bonked him on the head with a hot ladle still dripping with soup. Some of it splattered in his hair. "You be nice! Congratulate Honesty. She's been reborn!" Then they went back to stirring their large bubbling cauldron with an indignant sniffle.
The flower forest quivered and trembled with Malcolm's anger, almost as if it was being buffeted by a strong breeze.
Malcolm rubbed the back of his sore head, the pain sparking a harsh reminder about the state of his broken body. "What is with y'all stealing my friends' faces?!"
Protection stepped protectively in front of Honesty, as her elf ears drooped in shame.
"We did not steal anyone's face." He placed his armored hand on the golden spirit's delicate shoulder. "Honesty was shaped by Taylor's actions as I was shaped by Carver's. The form we take is not intentional, just a representation of the Bonds present."
Malcolm blinked, pointing at Honesty. "So you're telling me that owl thing turned into Taylor? Don't tell me she's a spirit healer now!"
Honesty cocked her head. "Why is that a problem?"
Malcolm threw his head back in a guttural groan. "The problem is she's going to be extra insufferable." He bristled with annoyance. Class was going to be impossible to get through.
Chef tutted from over the bubbling cauldron, a delicious hearty smell wafting from it. "Don't be so cross, Somniari. This is a good thing. If we're able to restore Kindness, we'll have a much easier time protecting these lands from Zelophehad's corruption."
Malcolm glared at the little pink fairy spirit perched on top of Honesty's shoulder. "Don't you get any bright ideas," he growled with a pointed finger.
Kindness shrank again, and clung to Honesty's fro, hiding their face.
"Now's not the time for this." Compassion stepped in between them and shooed the spirits away from Malcolm. "The Somniari's been hurt again. He needs rest." She placed her hand on Malcolm's aching shoulder, her healing energy soothing the aches throughout his body into bliss.
Protection walked to the edge of the flower grove, peering at the stormy horizon of the Fade with a deep grimace. "Zelophehad is active tonight."
The news made Malcolm uneasy. He was battered, broken, and wasn't sure how much more he could take.
Protection turned to the desire demon who had perched herself in the petals of a giant tulip, watching them all as her long tail swished in boredom. "Do you sense him?"
All eyes turned to Avarice. She sighed heavily and examined her long purple talons. "Well, he's not exactly hiding." Then she smiled wickedly as her eyes fell on Malcolm. She pointed subtly with her lips to a goat eye nestled in the center of a rose.
Malcolm jumped at the sight of the ghastly bloodshot creature but it blinked out of existence before he could do anything.
Kindness shouted in their indecipherable tinkling voice, pointing at the swirling sky. It looked like a storm was gathering.
Honesty tilted her head, her elf ears twitching. "But if Zelophehad's not here, where is he?"
That's when something in Malcolm's pocket began ringing.
"Don't answer it," Chef warned.
But Malcolm had a feeling he had to. He reached for his phone and put it to his ear.
Leandra's terrified screams filled the forest, making it sway and quiver. "What is happening!? Help! Please, someone!"
Zelophehad's warped wet laugh cackled in the static as the wind gushed, raging.
Malcolm's heart froze. He knew this wasn't an illusion. He could feel Leandra's presence in her voice.
"Where are you?"
"I-I don't know," she whimpered back. "Malcolm help! Please help!"
Suddenly a giant stalk of tulip split in two. It fell apart, gooey lines oozing green as the flower bled. It opened into a dark portal, swirling like a whirlpool.
Chef placed a hand on Malcolm's shoulder. "No, Somniari. You are not ready to go back into the heart of Zelophehad's domain. Let the Guardian Spirits handle this."
Malcolm glared daggers at Protection. "You told me you stopped Zelophehad!"
"No, I did not," Protection held up his hand impatiently. "My precise words were I was taking care of it. And I will again." He approached the portal with squared shoulders.
Kindness flitted up and hopped on his head with a plop.
"I'm coming," Malcolm tried to follow as well, flinching every time Leandra wailed.
Honesty pressed her hands on his chest, stopping him. "You'll get in the way. You should stay here and train instead."
"Like hell, I will!" Malcolm exploded, causing a large rose tree bush to wither and fall with a crash. "I'm not debating this! Get out of my way!" Malcolm shoved Honesty aside, sent her stumbling across the field, and stomped towards the portal.
A thorny vine whipped round his limbs and yanked him back.
Malcolm struggled, trying to move but realized that the thorns digging into him were paralyzing him. He dropped to his knees, shooting a nasty glare at Avarice, who waved her whip with a smirk.
"Oops."
Her thorns ripped his skin but still, he struggled. "Oh, you bitch! I'm going to throttle you!" He thrashed, using his healing spells to try to neutralize the venom.
Avarice laughed as if he'd shared a good joke. "Struggle all you want. You'll just make it worse."
That's when Compassion's braid wrapped around Malcolm and held him fast. She channeled dispelling magic so that he couldn't cast spells anymore.
Malcolm snarled rabidly. "What the fuck are you doing?!"
Chef waved his ladle angrily, spraying soup everywhere. "We're not going to let you fall for Zelophehad's very obvious trap!"
Malcolm was now spattered with brown broth.
"We'll take care of the Somniari," Compassion told Honesty, Kindness, and Protection. "You protect his heart."
The three spirits nodded in unison and disappeared into the portal before it could collapse into itself, while Malcolm continued to scream his head off.
—
Leandra froze in fear.
She was suspended above a swirling ocean, cold waves spraying her with foam. The sky was stormy, a dark green haze coating the air. Frigid raindrops pelted her like rocks.
The Black City looked so close, she might have reached up and touched the ridges of the castle. The water below churned like a storm drain, roaring like a monsoon. Poking out of the waves, black tentacled hands swayed. Embedded in the limbs were bloody red swirling goat eyes, watching her menacingly. The shadowed claws beckoned her, threatening to drag her underwater.
Leandra felt Malcolm's presence keeping her afloat, though he was nowhere in sight. Somehow, she'd heard his voice in her head and she'd screamed for him to save her.
Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a familiar colorful auburn ship bobbing in the waves.
A screech of static scratched the air. Waves tried to bowl the ship over, but it remained steady and balanced on the water. A bright light shot from the boat like a cannon and flew towards Leandra.
Leandra thought it might be a rocket. She flinched as it grew close, but it stopped right in front of her.
Leandra blinked her eyes open to a flying elf. But not just any elf- Malcolm's friend Taylor!
She gleamed like gold, so heavenly, with bright large wings like an angel. She reached out her glowing hand. "Do not panic. I'm here to help. Again."
Again?
Leandra hesitantly grabbed Taylor's hand, and the winged elf scooped Leandra up by the knees and swooped back towards the ship.
The rain covered Leandra's face, blinding her as she screamed and her long black hair streamed behind her.
Leandra wasn't expecting Taylor to be in her dream, nor was she expecting to be carried by her. It felt unexpectedly nice, and she felt a pleasant blush warm her cheeks.
As they got closer to the water, the tentacle limbs shot out, trying to harpoon them.
Taylor expertly dodged each lunge, though it made Leandra's stomach flip from how fast they were moving.
Carver raised his sword, beaming like a sun. Light shot into the sky. His magic parted the clouds, and bright beams forced the demon to retreat. Several gleaming stars split the heavens, layered on top of each other, making it a strange sunset of pink and lime green.
Taylor deposited Leandra onto the deck of the ship as the rain slowly stopped. The ocean's churn was turning into a gentle rock.
Leandra wrung the sea spray out of her hair. "Ugh, is this going to happen every night?"
"Until you use your ward properly." Carver shook his head, his skin looking like sunlight itself. His expression looked extra cross, even with a tiny pink fairy on his shoulder. He pointed an accusing finger. "You need to start performing your rituals again. Pray or your curse will worsen!"
Leandra rolled her eyes. "You sound like my parents."
Carver gritted his teeth. "It is a wonder your bloodline survived this long."
The little pink fairy yanked at Carver's ear angrily, but Leandra couldn't understand its chittering voice.
Taylor gave Carver a friendly pat on his elbow, though Leandra was sure he couldn't feel it through that bulky armor. "Perhaps we let the girl go back to Kindness' realm? The Somniari is probably destroying it as we speak. It'll be the easiest way to calm him."
Carver shook his head so fast his ponytail whipped behind him. "It's too risky to have them together. Zelophehad would take advantage. Let's bring her to your realm, instead."
Taylor cocked her head, her large owl eyes blinking. "But the longer they stay apart, the longer it will take for Love to be reborn."
Leandra wasn't listening to the conversation, but her ears perked up at the word Somniari. "You know where Malcolm is? Take me to him!"
Carver hunched his shoulders, shooting a nasty glare at Taylor. "We could, but we won't."
"Why not?" Leandra stamped her foot impatiently.
Carver towered over her, appearing unbreakable. He was clearly vexed by her. "Because the curse on your bloodline makes you a risk to the Somniari."
Leandra's cheeks flamed in shame. She knew that in the pit of her heart, he was right. Her family was stained with sin and misfortune.
She hugged herself feeling defeated. "Maybe I should stay away from Malcolm, then."
Now the little pink fairy was jumping up and down as it squeaked incessantly, scolding Carver.
Taylor gave Carver a sharp swat, his armor making a soft twunk. "See what you've done." She then turned the direction of the wind with a snap of her fingers, and the ship sailed off to the Black City's gate. It looked miraculously like Kirkwall's harbor with two desiccated bronze slave statues guarding the entrance. "You're being too protective. The curse will never be broken if they're kept apart."
Leandra hugged herself, not exactly appreciating how she was being talked about, like she was a diseased woman who needed to be quarantined, even if that was exactly what she felt like. With Colette in Ferelden, Revka in Aenoar, Mara fired, her cousins trapped in the Circle, and Malcolm constantly on the brink of death, she could only blame herself. Maybe it would be better if she disappeared.
The ship split the water with its rapid pace. Something dark and shadowy lurked in the depths, following them. When they passed by the gates, immediately the scenery began to change, turning into a mossy bank.
Leandra recognized this shore. She had awoken in this flower forest several times, though each dream was hazy as a fog.
It was grander than she remembered. The flower bushes and blossoms were so vibrant and lively they seemed to shimmer. Petals were flaking down, wafting in the breeze, as little wisps danced with them, making strange patterns in the sky.
They docked on the sandy shore, and Carver escorted Leandra grumpily off the ship. As soon as they got on land, they were greeted by several wisps who crowded Leandra excitedly, chattering in a hum. A sparkling purple wisp dove into her hair, giggling like an eerie child.
Leandra found herself laughing despite herself. The little purple wisp tugged at her nightgown, urging her forward.
Before Taylor and Carver could say anything, the wisps scooped Leandra up so she was floating and carried her deeper into the forest, with the purple wisp eagerly leading the way. The petals falling loose from where they'd caught in her hair gave the impression of drifting snow.
Suddenly Leandra was in a clear grove, with beds of jasmine and clover thickening in the tall grass. In the middle of the clearing, Malcolm was trapped, bound to stalks of giant lavender.
He was shouting and kicking his legs. "Let me go, you assholes! Stop ignoring me!"
The forest was quivering with each shout, shrinking and browning with decay.
Leandra didn't even notice the other spirits hovering nearby. She rushed up to Malcolm and began to untie him.
"What happened to you?" she gasped.
Leandra avoided the giant thorns but they still scraped at her. The strange silky blue coily strands were particularly stubborn, and her delicate hands slipped on the bindings.
Malcolm looked surprised to see Leandra in front of him. "You're alive?"
"I think?" Leandra looked around the wondrous flower forest in amazement. "Unless this is Heaven."
With how beautiful this place was, it definitely could be.
There was a blue woman with long curls who appeared to be made of glass. She gave a purple woman with strange fiery hair a subtle nod. Suddenly the bindings on Malcolm relaxed, and Leandra was easily able to pull them off.
Malcolm collapsed into her, feeling weak in her arms, but his fingers gently clutched at her back. He was covered in scratches, and he smeared blood onto her.
"You're alive," he repeated. His shoulders shook, and a tear hit Leandra's shoulder. "Thank the Maker, you're okay."
"Or you can thank us." Taylor stepped out of a bed of daisies with an annoyed look on her face. Her golden wings were now folded neatly on her back.
Leandra stroked Malcolm's cheek. "Carver saved me again. And Taylor was there this time."
That's when Carver appeared from behind a giant pinecone with gritted teeth. "I keep telling you, I'm Protection, not that human."
Not that Leandra believed him, when he was the spitting image of Carver. He even pinched the bridge of his nose like Carver did.
"This is not wise," Protection muttered darkly.
"Noted, and ignored." Taylor hopped up beside them. "I didn't get to introduce myself, but I'm not Taylor, I'm Honesty. And this is Kindness." She pointed to the pink fairy on her shoulder. 'Honesty' proceeded to point to three more figures hovering behind her. "I think Compassion, Chef, and Avarice introduced themselves already, but you might not remember."
Leandra blinked at the strange creatures. The two women almost looked human, if not for their otherworldly colors. But there was a bright red demon with no face shoveling popcorn into its lolling mouth. It offered its snack to the other ladies, who plucked at the bounty carefully, still watching Leandra intently.
Leandra knew instinctively who was who, but she couldn't recall how they met or what they said to her.
The pink fairy floated into the air, squeaking as it pointed to damaged mushrooms, petals, and leaves, all wilting from Malcolm's rampage.
Honesty sighed. "Kindness is right. The Somniari is more volatile to the grove than the girl's curse. We should just let them remain together."
"I can hear you," Malcolm growled.
So could Leandra. She stood up, hunched. "M-maybe I should go. I'll make things worse, right?"
"Even the girl understands."
Protection's nod of agreement caused Leandra to flinch.
"I'm strong enough to protect them separately," he was saying. "The girl's curse could not only infect the Somniari, but Kindness' realm as well."
"No." Malcolm stumbled up to his feet, a bit wobbly, but still managed to grip Leandra's hand. "No, stay with me." His voice was slick, desperate. "I'll go crazy again if you leave."
Leandra could feel him trembling, could feel his nerves like an overtightened string about to snap.
Leandra cupped Malcolm's cheeks, trying to memorize his face. "Then I'll stay." Though she wasn't sure she wouldn't regret that.
With a relieved smile, Malcolm pulled her lips to his and she tasted him. She was flooded by his heady flavor, feeling drunk and dizzy. She stiffened for a moment, hesitating before she kissed him back more fervently. How long since she felt these lips? Every part of her wanted him. Her heart pounded, her breath quickening with his touch.
Was this a dream? She wasn't so certain anymore.
They explored each other's mouths for some time but, at the sound of the giggles behind them, they pulled apart.
When Leandra opened her eyes, the forest seemed much taller, brighter, and livelier than before. There was not a hint of rot or wilt in the petals or leaves.
Malcolm shot a nasty glare at the snickering spirits.
Leandra folded herself into his arms, feeling shy, but happy.
Suddenly the purple wisp circled them, chittering ecstatically in words neither of them could understand.
Malcolm tried to shoo it away. "Hey, there's something called personal space."
But the wisp continued to chatter rapidly and phased through Malcolm's heart and into Leandra's stomach.
Leandra suddenly felt strange and queasy and she held her mouth, turning green.
Malcolm's eyes bulged. "What are you doing? Get out of Leandra!"
Leandra tried to respond, but she felt floaty, and her words were stolen from her throat.
Malcolm's voice grew farther and farther away as she disappeared from the Fade.
In the next moment, Leandra was in her bed, with a pool of vomit in her mouth.
The taste was revolting and Leandra almost coughed it out, spraying some liquid on the brand-new comforter. She dove for her wastebasket, gagging, but she didn't make it in time and ended up vomiting on the floor instead.
She sputtered trying to spit the taste out of her mouth, tears streaming down her cheeks from the horridness of it all. Her nostrils burned with the acidity and the smell heightened her nausea.
She curled into herself, sobbing pitifully from how terrible she felt.
Mara must have overheard because she rushed into the bedroom, already prepared with a towel, a bottle of bleach, and a glass of water.
"Oh, honey," she crooned sympathetically as she saw the mess. She dragged Leandra to her feet and sat her on the bed. "Are you sick or something?"
Mara handed Leandra the glass and she swished it in her mouth and spat it out in the wastebucket.
Leandra sniffled, wiping some tears off her cheek. "Oh, I must be. I feel awful."
She couldn't help but remember the strange dream she had. She could still feel Malcolm's heat on her lips, and she tried to imagine his flavor rather than what she was tasting.
Harvel hobbled in to see the commotion and raised a bushy eyebrow. "Heavens, Leandra. You've been throwing up for a week straight. We should call the doctor and get you an appointment."
Leandra wanted to argue, but she wasn't sure if that would be a good idea, so instead she gargled more water, shuddering at the film that still coated her mouth.
She eyed Mara busily cleaning away her expulsions, without even a complaint. Her stomach lurched with guilt. "Mara," she said. "You're pregnant. I'm more than capable of cleaning my own mess."
"I'm pregnant, not infirmed." Mara waved her off. "You're not feeling good. Rest."
"I'm feeling better," Leandra lied. She set the glass on the nightstand and got down on her knees, trying to snatch the towel and bottle of bleach from Mara's hands.
"Leandra quit it," Mara snapped.
But Leandra yanked at the towel haphazardly, which was a mistake.
Slime coated her hand, and a chunk of orange tandoori chicken stuck to her.
The barf errupted out of Leandra's throat before she could stop it, right onto Mara.
Both their eyes went wide in shock. Mara was covered in half-digested chicken and curry.
Mara immediately gagged, now trying to hold in her own vomit, but soon a gush of warm yellow liquid came up all over Leandra's nightgown.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"
Both ladies heaved and gagged, blubbering in disgust and horror.
"Leandra!" Mara squealed. "I told you I had it."
"I'm sorry," Leandra sobbed. "I just didn't want to be useless!"
"Maker save me." Harvel pinched his nose to try to block out the horrid smell filling the room. "Alright, girls. Go get cleaned up. I'll take care of this mess!" He quickly added with a mutter. "Like I take care of everything."
The ladies didn't argue and quickly retreated. They ran into Mara's parents' bathroom, still weeping in revulsion as Harvel muttered a string of curses at them.
They both quickly stripped out of their soiled clothes and deposited them in a corner of the bathroom.
"Ugh! Thanks! This has to be the grossest thing that's ever happened to me," Mara whined. She inspected the damage in the mirror. Her pale skin was sticky and there were chunky pieces of filth in her hair.
"I'm sorry," Leandra repeated and then gargled some more water from the faucet. "To be fair, you got me back."
"Only right, my Lady," Mara snapped. She began warming up the water for the shower and grumbled, "I'll grab medicine for you while I'm out, today."
Leandra sighed as she saw the state of her hair, so slimy and smelly. "Thank you," she said sullenly. "I have been feeling rundown lately."
"Well I'd be, too, with the rate you're going through men," Mara giggled mischievously.
"What are you talking about?" Leandra scoffed, crossing her arms. "I've only had one man more than you."
Mara laughed louder, grabbing Leandra's hand and dragging her into the steaming water. She wiggled her eyebrows. "That's not what the press says."
Leandra rolled her eyes, resisting the urge to smack her friend.
The bathtub was expansive and could easily fit both of them and then some. The tiles were bright white and spotless. The glass door quickly clouded up into fog.
It wasn't unusual for Mara and Leandra to shower together. In fact, it started when they were children and as they grew up, they found no reason to stop.
As much as Leandra's cheeks were heating under Mara's teasing, she couldn't help but feel a thrill in her throat she couldn't explain. She relished the warm water that dripped down her body and quickly wiped away the vomit sticking to her skin.
In the corner of Leandra's eye, she watched Mara rinse herself under the warm water, marveling at how beautiful she was. Leandra found Mara's poking belly cute and couldn't help but realize that pregnancy was filling out her already shapely curves.
Mara pulled out the body wash and poured a healthy helping onto a loofah. It was an expensive skin-softening blend that Leandra used and the scent of jasmine filled the air. Mara grabbed Leandra's shoulder and started soaping up her chest, wiping the rest of the sickness off her.
"So, I saw your livestream," Mara's cat eyes gleamed. Her voice was a hum. "You never told me Malcolm proposed."
Leandra's cheeks heated so much she could have steamed the water herself. "I - well," she bit her lip. "He didn't exactly."
Mara guffawed into her hand. "My, you're jumping the gun, aren't you?"
Leandra swatted Mara's arm, self-conscious and irritated. "You know Malcolm wants to marry me. He already said so."
Mara giggled, turning Leandra around to scrub her back. "Yes, but just talking about it and an actual proposal are quite different." Her breath ghosted Leandra's ear as she added, "Besides, wasn't that the night that you found out he was a lyrium dealer?"
"I'll make him stop!" Leandra scowled deeply, her face now red. "Besides, you're not in a much better spot! Your fiance's a convict!"
Mara chortled, for some reason pleased with that reaction. "Touché, my Lady."
Mara finished scrubbing Leandra's body clean, and began soaping up Leandra's hair.
"So…" Mara bit her cheek. "You told me your father called the press for Malcolm last night." She sounded surprised. "What do you think that means?"
Leandra froze in place, her muscles tightening in anxiety even as Mara rubbed soothing circles into her scalp. "I think it means he's going to ask something of me, soon. And…" Leandra looked down at her feet. "I won't be able to refuse him."
Mara tutted impatiently. "Of course you can. You're always allowed to refuse unreasonable requests."
Leandra looked into Mara's eyes. "What if it's not unreasonable?"
"Even so," Mara insisted. She continued to pour soap into Leandra's ridiculously long hair, trying to make sure to cover every inch. "Besides– It's your father! –It will definitely be unreasonable." Mara's eyes flicked to Leandra's worriedly.
Leandra sighed, not able to argue that.
There was an uncomfortable silence, with both of them anxious about what Leandra's parents had in store for her.
It took quite a while to clean and condition Leandra's voluminous hair, but once Mara was done, Leandra rinsed herself, feeling remarkably better.
Then Leandra grabbed the loofah and clumsily poured on some body wash, ready to scrub Mara down. "So have you heard from Carver? What's happening?"
Mara sighed, patting her growing belly. "I visit him tomorrow. We're still getting to know each other, I guess." She then laughed darkly. "His favorite color's orange. How am I supposed to find a good dress in that color? I've been searching all week."
Leandra found herself clenching her muscles finding it hard to concentrate on her task. "It must be hard not being able to see him very often." Leandra was careful with how she stroked Mara's skin, marveling at how soft and smooth it was.
Mara sighed. "It's not like you see Malcolm that often either."
Leandra dropped her shoulders. That was definitely true. It was impossible to steal a private moment with so many eyes on them.
Leandra continued to wash Mara, making sure to soap up every crevice. "Any further plans for the wedding?" Leandra asked, trying to distract her from the obvious.
"Ugh, the wedding is so far away. I'm actually trying to settle on baby names, but Carver's so useless!" She threw up her hands splashing Leandra with soapy water. "He has no opinion. He's just like 'whatever you think is best.' So boring!"
"Well, what have you picked out?" Leandra asked helpfully.
"I really like the name Ahlivyah," Mara said, rinsing the suds off her skin.
"Oh, Olivia's nice."
"Ahlivyah," Mara corrected. "A-H-L-I-V-Y-A-H."
Leandra wrinkled her nose in confusion. "Why would you spell it like that?"
Mara jutted out her bottom lip. "It's elvhen. Means 'bundle of joy.'"
"Oh," Leandra's cheeks heated, properly chided. Now she wondered if Malcolm would want to give their kids elvhen names. Would she be able to pronounce them?
"What else are you considering?" Leandra asked, sidestepping her usual judgments. She poured some shampoo on Mara's spiking hair.
"Shadow," Mara replied ecstatically. "Great for a girl, but also works if she comes out as a boy."
Leandra tutted in annoyance. "Mara, why are you choosing such weird names?" She massaged Mara's scalp a little too roughly with her nails.
"What?" Mara whined with a wince. "I don't want something basic!"
"But Shadow?" Leandra raised a fine eyebrow. "C'mon, Mara she's a baby, not a dog."
"See!" Mara threw up her hands. "That's why I need a bestie's advice!"
Leandra chuckled with a shake of her head, now determined to find a decent name for this child. She quickly vetoed Heaven Lee, and Jackiel, and worked hard to convince Mara to let go of Jinx. After some back and forth, they agreed on Charade, which was a combination of Mara's mother's name Charlotte, and her father's name Brahonàde. Leandra did admit it was pretty, but a little unusual.
Leandra was just relieved Mara had the sense not to combine her parents' names into Bralotte.
Finally, the girls were properly clean and they both got out of the shower and wrapped themselves with towels. They took turns brushing their teeth in the sink as they dried off.
Leandra gargled some minty mouthwash, thankful to have the taste of sickness out of her mouth. She was feeling a little better when she noticed a familiar plain glass bottle of medicine hidden behind some hair products.
Leandra's hands started to shake as she examined the unopened bottle, realizing she had forgotten something very very important.
Mara's eyebrow was raised and she spat out some toothpaste in the sink and pointed with her brush.
"Leandra… don't tell me that's what I think it is."
If she was thinking it was Leandra's morning-after pill, she would be correct.
Leandra pushed Mara out of the way and dove under the sink madly searching, but couldn't find anything but pads and cleaning supplies. "Mara, where are your pregnancy tests!?"
Mara's eyes widened in panic. Still, in a towel, she dashed back to her room.
Leandra gripped the counter, her knuckles whitening as she cursed her own stupidity. She meant to take the pill the night after the rave, but she found out about Malcolm's lyrium dealing and broke up with him. And then Revka and Colette were taken by the Chantry. And then a thousand other things piled up, making her forget to do this one vital thing.
Mara quickly came in with a pregnancy test and handed it to Leandra.
Leandra ripped it open with a gulp, sat on the toilet, and peed on the stick. Once she was done, she sat it on the counter on a piece of toilet paper. And waited.
Leandra expected Mara to distract her or kill time talking, but it seemed like Mara was just as freaked out as she was. She bit her nails into stubs in worry, as Leandra wrung her wet hair, unsure of what result she wanted.
Fifteen minutes later, the test showed two pink lines for positive.
Leandra dropped her head in her hands. This changed everything.
"No, no, no, no! This can't be right!" she cried, even though the truth was right in front of her.
Mara inspected the test closer to make sure it wasn't a mistake. "Daaamn, Leandra. Preggers already? Your man better start shopping for a ring."
Leandra couldn't find the humor in this.
"Andraste's tears!" Leandra pulled at her wet hair anxiously. "What if Malcolm doesn't want kids? What should I do?"
Mara took Leandra's hands so she'd stop pulling out her hair. She forced Leandra to look into her eyes. "What you're going to do is talk to him. Soon." Mara cupped Leandra's cheeks, and quickly added, "Don't tell your parents."
With timing only the Maker could manage, there was a knock at the door.
Harvel called into the bathroom, "Leandra. You need to get dressed. Your father's here."
Leandra and Mara looked at each other in confusion. They scrambled out the door and once Harvel was in the other room, quickly threw on the first clothes they could find, Mara once again borrowing from Leandra's wardrobe.
The anxiety pitted in Leandra's stomach and she could see that Mara was too nervous to crack her usual jokes.
Soon Leandra was tucked into a casual floral dress, her wet hair in a messy bun. She dabbed on some quick makeup hoping to look presentable enough for her father.
Mara was dressed in Leandra's pink polka dot romper, her fingers trembling. She gently touched Leandra's arm. "Remember, you don't have to do what he says."
Leandra nodded, feeling shaky herself. "I know."
Then she went to meet her father at the door.
Like she thought, her father hadn't come alone. Sylvain, the family bodyguard, and several servants were waiting on the porch with suitcases in their hands.
Leandra curtsied, breathing unsteadily. "Hello, Daddy."
Lord Aristride's pink face brightened with a wide white smile, though it dropped a bit when he inspected her outfit. Still, he walked up and wrapped his arms around her in a warm hug.
"Sweetpea," he said fondly. Then he patted her wet hair. "I think it's time we put all this nonsense aside. Your mother and I want you to come home."
Leandra froze under his touch. She didn't know how to say 'no'.
—-
Taylor was so terrified that when she saw Malcolm again, he would be sporting an ugly Chantry sun on his forehead. But when she walked into the infirmary, she was relieved to find him okay.
Or maybe 'okay' was too generous a word.
He was still severely beaten, with a giant hematoma on his eyebrow swelling his eye shut, a busted lip, and a very broken nose. She was certain there were more bruises under his nightclothes that she couldn't see.
Meredith stood irritated in the corner of the room, watching Malcolm with a scowl, as if he would combust any moment. Never mind that the cuffs holding him to his cot were covered with anti-magic runes.
The room was mostly empty. The Chantry sisters who were usually here to clean and tend to the sick and injured had been dismissed. But there were still a few bed-bound patients straggling behind, who appeared to be sleeping.
The sun gleamed through the red and gold Chantry banners in the window, cutting the room with long shadows. This space of healing was not welcoming, with cold heartless stone that chilled the infirmary. The cots were just as hard, with thin paper sheets for warmth.
Senior Enchanter Jakoby saw Taylor enter and pulled his full lips into a thin smile in greeting.
"Ah, welcome," Meredith said, sarcastically rolling her eyes.
Taylor bowed her head respectfully. "Thank you, Messere," she murmured so softly she was barely audible.
Meredith waved Taylor towards Malcolm. "I'm sure you'll have no problem with minor injuries such as these. Consider this your formal test as a Spirit Healer."
Senior Enchanter Jakoby stepped forward, his shoulders squaring. "Again, I must protest. Malcolm's injuries need to be treated delicately." He shot an apologetic glance at Taylor. "Miss Filene is talented but inexperienced. She could accidentally damage Malcolm. I must insist that I heal him."
Meredith smirked, her cold blue eyes falling on Taylor. "You're the one who passed her. Are you saying she's incapable?" She smiled wickedly. "Or are you going to acknowledge that it was her subpar skills that killed Arth?"
Taylor gritted her teeth. She knew that Malcolm's broken nose could easily become disfigured if she healed it wrong, but she had every bit of confidence in her abilities. She stepped forward, folding her hands. "The manananggal must have put a curse on Arth. My technique was flawless."
"Flawless?" Meredith guffawed, raising a fine blond eyebrow. "My, that is arrogant of you." Her eyes hardened into glass as she squinted. "Didn't you rebuild organs? It's not unreasonable to assume that they came out defective."
Taylor opened her mouth to argue when Senior Enchanter Jakoby stepped in. "Arth's injuries were so severe it was a miracle he survived as long as he did, and that's thanks to Miss Filene."
Taylor stepped back and bowed her head, knowing that there was nothing more she could say.
Malcolm growled, rubbing the back of his head with his free hand. He'd been oddly silent during the conversation. Taylor had figured he'd gotten in enough trouble and that he finally knew better than to get mouthy when he said, "No offense, Tay, but I'd prefer not to look like an ogre when you're done. Mind if the Teach handles this?"
"Keep that up, and I'll make you an ogre on purpose," Taylor snarled, balling her fists. She was ready to rip off his nose and feed it to him.
Meredith snickered. "I wouldn't mind watching that. It would be a remarkable improvement."
"That won't be necessary, Knight-Captain." Senior Enchanter Jakoby's elf ears twitched, clearly nervous about Meredith's temperament. "Don't you have duties to attend to?"
"I'm in the middle of them." Meredith smirked sharply. She nodded at Taylor. "Just clean Hawke up. He doesn't need to be pretty for the cameras."
Taylor perked up. She had overheard about the press wanting to interview Malcolm after the mess last night. She was surprised that the Knight-Commander would allow that to happen. But it made sense that Meredith would want to clean up the evidence on Malcolm's body of the Circle's abuse. If not, Meredith would have allowed Malcolm's injuries to fester until they got infected.
Malcolm shrank down on the cot, his knuckles whitening as he gripped the sheets with balled fists.
Senior Enchanter Jakoby sighed, folding his hands. "Alright, Taylor. Let's try this, just as we discussed."
Malcolm flinched, his eyes flicking up at Taylor in fear. "Be gentle with me. I'm a brittle man."
But Taylor was pissed and not in the mood for mercy. She gave him a sly smirk. "Don't worry. This will only hurt for a second." Then she grabbed Malcolm's askew nose and cracked it back into place.
Malcolm howled, tears springing into his eyes.
"Oooh, I like her," Meredith cackled.
Taylor ignored them both and promptly summoned Honesty's magic, the golden mana singing as it poured into Malcolm's face. Taylor focused on the delicate bones, ensuring they were arranged just right, before sealing them together.
Malcolm whimpered in pain as his flesh rearranged itself. "Can you hurry it up?"
"I'm almost done, you big baby." Taylor rolled her eyes.
Soon his nose was straight, so Taylor moved on to his swelling brow, calming the hematoma until the blood dispersed back into his body. Then, with a wave of her hand, she stitched up his split lip. It wasn't long until his face was completely healed, without even a hint of a scar.
Malcolm wrinkled his nose, finally able to breathe again. "Do I still look pretty? You didn't fuck up my face, did you?"
Taylor rolled her eyes and slapped his chest, causing him to yelp. It was clear to her his ribs were still cracked. "If you're not happy with your face, I'd be happy to rearrange it."
Malcolm hissed, wincing deeply. "You really need to work on your bedside manner."
Taylor tutted impatiently, just resisting the urge to dig her nails into Malcolm's sides. Instead, she let Honesty's magic flow through her fingers to seal up the fractures.
When Taylor was done, she stood aside and allowed Senior Enchanter Jakoby to inspect her work.
Their teacher touched his chin in thought, clearly impressed. "I see you've been doing your homework."
Meredith stormed forward, examining Malcolm for any deformities. When she couldn't find any on his face she snapped, "Take off your shirt."
Malcolm raised an eyebrow. "Shouldn't you buy me dinner first?"
Meredith snarled, grabbed the back of his collar, and ripped off his shirt from him, his handcuff jangling wildly.
Malcolm flailed but wasn't able to do much with only one free hand.
To Taylor's relief, it appeared that there wasn't a single bruise left on Malcolm's body. It was as if he was never beaten.
From the pleased smile on Meredith's face that was what she intended. Her eyes seemed gleeful until they fell onto Malcolm's back.
"You can do something about this mess, right?" Meredith squinted crossly.
She was referring to the patchwork of raised lines where the mark of a flog had indented Malcolm's skin permanently. It was an ugly marred bumpy mess, so layered Taylor wasn't sure where one scar ended and the other began.
Before Taylor could give Meredith her answer, Senior Enchanter Jakoby stepped in and said, "The longer the scar has been infused in the skin, the harder it is to heal without special measures." He put a proud hand on Taylor's shoulder. "Miss Filene has already passed the conditions of your test."
Meredith raised an eyebrow. "Are you saying she's incapable?"
The older mage shook his head and adjusted his glasses. "I'm saying that even a Spirit Healer of my caliber would have difficulty with these scars." He straightened himself, holding up one finger as he went into lecture mode. "Trauma changes the makeup of the cells. When the wound is fresh, the cells have not held the memory of pain for very long, and it's easier to coax them back to their natural state. But once the memory of the pain has seeped in, pain becomes the natural state."
Meredith's eyes glazed over from the infodump. "So you're saying it's impossible?"
"No," the Senior Enchanter shook his head, some locs falling off his shoulder. "I'm saying it will take more than one session to get the result you're looking for."
Meredith smirked. "Then get started." Then she sucker-punched Malcolm in the face.
Something made a loud crack. Malcolm's nose was streaming with blood, clearly broken again.
Malcolm barked in pain, holding his head up to try to stop his nose from flowing. "You crazy bitch!"
Meredith chuckled to herself, shaking some blood off her gauntlet. Her eyes fell on Taylor who flinched. "Fix his face, again. If there's even one scar on him, you fail." Then she sauntered out of the infirmary and slammed the door.
Some of the sleeping patients grumbled, relieved Meredith was gone and turned away to ignore the commotion.
Taylor immediately sprung to Malcolm's side, resetting his nose, and poured Honesty's magic into his wound. Once again, she healed him flawlessly.
Malcolm wiggled his nose this way and that, testing out Taylor's work. "Fucking hell," he muttered. "That woman gets off on violence."
Senior Enchanter Jakoby rubbed his temples, clearly in pain from a migraine. "If she does, I would think you'd be smart enough not to provoke her, Serah Hawke."
"It doesn't matter," Malcolm rolled his eyes, as he wiped his bloody face with a paper-thin bedsheet. "She'd find a reason to do it anyway."
Senior Enchanter Jakoby sighed in agreement. He then leaned over Malcolm to inspect Taylor's work. "You healed his nose not once, but twice without a deformity. Very impressive." He beamed at her. "I would be happy to welcome you into the Spirit Healing program."
Taylor felt the pride well up in her throat. Still, she remembered Meredith and tucked her head down. "But the Knight-Captain said-"
The Senior Enchanter waved her off. "Ignore the Knight-Captain. I decide who is worthy enough to be in my classroom and you've exceeded my expectations like usual."
"Oh." Taylor's cheeks heated, unable to come up with anything else to say.
"Nerd," Malcolm coughed unsubtly into his arm.
Taylor shot him a nasty glare, just resisting the urge to break his nose a third time.
Senior Enchanter Jakoby folded his hands behind his back. "Well, we should let Malcolm rest. His body might have been healed, but his soul needs time to recuperate. We have a lot of lessons to cover, anyway."
Taylor bit her lip. She needed to talk to Malcolm and with him imprisoned there weren't going to be many opportunities.
"I've been going through Malcolm's homework so I'm already caught up on the curriculum." She placed her hand on Malcolm's shoulder, surprised that there was actually muscle there. "If I try healing Malcolm's scars, it will give me training a textbook can't teach me."
Malcolm coughed into his arm again. "Kiss-ass."
Taylor dug her nails into his shoulder causing him to wince.
The Senior Enchanter raised a curious eyebrow. "Are you sure, Taylor?"
Taylor smiled, all teeth. "Absolutely. Leave it to me."
Senior Enchanter Jakoby dropped his shoulders and relented. "Very well. I trust you can keep Serah Hawke in line."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Malcolm growled and Taylor promptly swatted him in the back of the head.
Senior Enchanter Jakoby chuckled, gathered his book bag, and left Malcolm and Taylor with the rest of the patients.
As soon as their teacher was gone, Taylor pulled the courtesy curtains around Malcolm's cot so she could finally talk to him.
Malcolm raised a curious eyebrow. "Aren't you going to heal my back?"
"In a bit," Taylor replied with a sharp whisper. She then drew a line in the air, her void splitting open.
Malcolm watched carefully as Taylor removed several vials and placed them in his hand. They were helpfully labeled in neat handwriting 'salt', 'garlic', 'holy water', and 'ash'.
Malcolm's golden eyes looked bewildered. "Why are you giving me…cooking ingredients?"
Taylor quickly closed her portal with a wave of her hand. "Since when are ash and holy water cooking ingredients?"
"I don't know," Malcolm shrugged. "Maybe you're making something fancy."
Taylor shook her head in disappointment, her cloudy hair bobbing. She crossed her arms as she explained, "A manananggal has two halves, the dangerous top half that devours people, and its harmless human half on the bottom." Taylor pointed to some ingredients. "Mix salt, ash, and garlic on its lower half and the two segments can't reunite. A separated manananggal will disintegrate in the sunlight like a regular vampire."
Malcolm nodded in understanding as he looked over the vials. "What's the holy water for, then? Do I splash it or something?"
"You could waste it like that, I guess." Taylor squinted in annoyance. "All demons are weak to holiness, but it won't stop a manananggal. Anyways, that's not why I stole it." She showed Malcolm two vials. "These are not just any ashes but dead man's ashes. The holy water and ashes are needed for the Formless One's ritual, but I need more time with the Fell Grimoire to decipher the exact details of the ritual." She bit her lip. "It's still missing the branch of a flowering Vhenadahl. There weren't any in the apothecary when I checked."
Taylor hoped Malcolm would appreciate all the hard work she'd done, but instead, he raised a suspiciously mocking eyebrow.
"Where the hell did you get the dead man's ashes?"
Taylor's cheeks heated and she twisted her hands, ashamed of herself. "I… may have stolen Arth's ashes at his funeral."
Malcolm's eyes bugged out and he began to cackle loudly, disturbing the patients around him.
Taylor swatted him. "It's not funny!" she hissed.
"It is a little," Malcolm snickered into his free hand.
Taylor gave him a hard shove. "Just put those in your void, already!"
Malcolm rolled his eyes but did what she asked. With a flick of his wrist, the white hole appeared, and he shoved the vials in. In the next instant, it was gone.
Taylor cracked the tension out of her neck, and walked around to Malcolm's back, her hands lighting up with golden energy. "Now, let's see if we can't do something about these scars."
Malcolm's ears drooped with his shoulders. "You can try, but I haven't gotten anywhere with them."
Taylor poured her magic, concentrating on the old wounds. Senior Enchanter Jakoby was right that they were stubborn. No matter how she tried to reshape Malcolm's flesh, it wouldn't respond, but she furrowed her eyebrows in determination.
"Don't underestimate me."