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greenwitchcrafts · 10 months ago

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February 2024 witch guide

Full moon: February 24th

New moon: February 9th

Sabbats: Imbolc-February 1st

February Snow Moon

Known as: Eagle Moon, Horning Moon, Solmonath Moon, Bear moon, Ice Moon, Wild Moon, Raccoon Moon, Big Winter Moon, Groundhog Moon, Quickening Moon, Storm Moon, Goose Moon, Hungry Moon & Red/Cleansing Moon

Element: Fire

Zodiac: Aquarius & Pisces

Nature spirits: House Faeries

Deities: Aphrodite, Brigid & Nut

Animals: Otter & Unicorn

Birds: Chickadee & Eagle

Trees: Cedar, laurel, myrtle & rowan

Herbs: Balm of Gilead, hyssop, myrrh, sage & spikenard

Flowers: Primrose

Scents: Heliotrope & wisteria

Stones: Amethyst, jasper, moonstone, obsidian, onyx , rose quartz, topaz & red zircon

Colors: Light blue & violet

Energy: Astral travel, banishing, beginnings, breaking bad habits, creativity expressiveness, empowerment, energy working to the surface, fertility, forgiveness, freedom, friendships, future plans, growth, healing, problem solving, purification, responsibility & science

February’s full Moon is a “Micromoon” this year. Think of this term as the opposite of a “Supermoon.” It simply means that the full Moon is at its farthest point from Earth (not the nearest point).

The explanation behind February’s full Moon name is a fairly straightforward one: it’s known as the Snow Moon due to the typically heavy snowfall that occurs in February. On average, February is the United States’ snowiest month, according to data from the National Weather Service. In the 1760s, Captain Jonathan Carver, who had visited with the Naudowessie(Dakota), wrote that the name used for this period was the Snow Moon, “because more snow commonly falls during this month than any other in the winter.”

Imbolc

Known as: Feast of Torches, Feast of Waxing Light, Oimele & Brigid's Day

Season: Winter

Symbols: Besoms, Brighid's crosses, candles, candle wheels, fertility symbols, fire, ploughs, priapic wands & white flowers

Colors: Black, brown, Earth tones, lavender, light green, orange, pink, red, white & yellow

Oils/Incense: Apricot, basil, bay, carnation, chamomile, cinnamon, dragon's blood, frankincense, heather, jasmine, myrrh, neroli, red sandalwood, sage, vanilla, violet & wisteria

Animals: Badger, cow, deer,groudhog, robin, sheep, snake, & swan

Mythical: Dragon

Stones: Amethyst, bloodstone, citrine, clear quartz, garnet, green tourmaline, hematite, iron, lodestone, onyx, red zircon, rose quartz, ruby, turquoise, yellow tourmaline

Food: Breads, chives, curries, dairy products, grains, garlic, herbal teas, honey cakes, lamb, muffins, onions, peppers, poppy seed cakes, pork, poultry, pumpkin seeds, raisins, scones, spiced wines & sunflower seeeds

Herbs/Plants: Angelica, ashleaf, balsam, basil, bay laurel, benzoin, blackberry, clover, coltsfoot, coriander, dragon's blood, garlic, heather, lemon, myrrh, rosemary, sage, vervain, wheat & witch hazel

Flowers: Celandine, chamomile, iris, rose hips, snowdrop, sunflower, tansy, violets, white flowers & yellow flowers

Goddesses: Anu, Aradia, Arianrhod, Artio, Athena, Branwen, Brigid, Danu, Februa, Gaia, Inanna, Juno, Selene, Sirona & Vesta

Gods: Aegus Mac Og, Bragi, Cupid, Dian Cecht, Dumuzi, Eros, Februus & Pax

Issues, Intentions & Powers: Activation/awakening, animals, beginnings, fertility, healing, hope, illumination, inspiration, light, pregnancy/childbirth, prophecy, transformation, well-being & youth

Spellwork: Air magick, banishings, candle spells, divination, fertility spells, prosperity & purification

Activities:

• Make & light white candles

• Clean/decorate your altar & consecrate your altar tools

• Go on a walk in nature & look for signs of spring

• Make a Brigid's Cross

• Have a feast with your family/friends

• Give thanks & leave offerings to the Earth

• Set intentions, reflect & look deeper into your goals for spring

• Start a bonfire

• Find Imboloc prayers & devotionals that bid farewell to the winter months, honor the goddess Brigid, as well as seasonal blessings for your meals, hearth, & home.

• Pepare plans for your upcoming garden

• Craft a priapic wand

• Spend time with children celebrating Imbolc by making crafts & or baking

• Practice divination & fire scrying

• Draw a cleansing ritual bath for yourself

• Meditate, reflect & say your farewells to winter

• Cleanse & clean your house to prepare for spring

• Create a Brídeóg: a doll of Brigid made of straw

• Make Bride's bouquet satchets & exchange as symbols of good luck and fertility

• Set aside food & or drinks as an offering to Brigid to invite her in your home

Imbolc is a Gaelic festival marking the beginning of spring. Most commonly it is held on January 31 – February 1, or halfway between the winter solstice & the spring equinox. The holiday is a festival of the hearth, home, a celebration of the lengthening days & the early signs of spring.

The word "imbolc" means "in the belly" and refers to the pregnancy of ewes at this time of year. The term "oimelc" means ewe's milk. Around this time of year, many herd animals give birth to their first offspring of the year or are heavily pregnant & as a result, they are producing milk. This creation of life’s milk is a part of the symbolic hope for spring.

Imbolc is mentioned in some of the earliest Irish literature and it is associated with important events in Irish mythology. It has been suggested that it was originally a pagan festival associated with the goddess Brigid and that it was Christianized as a festival of Saint Brigid, who herself is thought to be a Christianization of the goddess.

Some use Imbolc to celebrate the longer days which herald the return of Spring & The Goddess's recovery from giving birth to The Sun (The God) at Yule. The God & The Goddess are children symbolizing new life, new beginnings & new resurrections.

Related festivals:

• Groundhog Day- Is a tradition observed in the United States & Canada on February 2 of every year. It derives from the Pennsylvania Dutch superstition that if a groundhog emerges from its burrow on this day & sees its shadow, it will retreat to its den & winter will go on for six more weeks; if it does not see its shadow, spring will arrive early.

While the tradition remains popular in the 21st century, studies have found no consistent association between a groundhog seeing its shadow & the subsequent arrival time of spring-like weather.

•St. Brigid's Day- 1 February. It was originally Imbolc, the first day of spring in Irish tradition. Because Saint Brigid has been theorised as linked to the goddess Brigid, some associate the festival of Imbolc with the goddess. St. Brigid is the patroness saint (or 'mother saint') of Ireland. She is patroness of many things, including poetry, learning, healing, protection, blacksmithing, livestock & dairy production. In her honour, a perpetual fire was kept burning at Kildare for centuries.

A recent campaign successfully established her feast day as a national holiday in 2023.

• Chinese New Year- (February 10th) the festival that celebrates the beginning of a new year on the traditional lunisolar Chinese calendar. In Chinese, the festival is commonly referred to as the Spring Festival,- marking the end of winter and the beginning of the spring season. Observances traditionally take place from Chinese New Year's Eve, the evening preceding the first day of the year, to the Lantern Festival, held on the 15th day of the year. The first day of Chinese New Year begins on the new moon that appears between January 21st & February 20th.

The Chinese New Year is associated with several myths and customs. The festival was traditionally a time to honour deities as well as ancestors. Within China, regional customs and traditions concerning the celebration of the New Year vary widely & the evening preceding the New Year's Day is frequently regarded as an occasion for Chinese families to gather for the annual reunion dinner.

It is also a tradition for every family to thoroughly clean their house, in order to sweep away any ill fortune & to make way for incoming good luck. Another custom is the decoration of windows & doors with red paper-cuts and couplets. Popular themes among these paper-cuts and couplets include good fortune or happiness, wealth & longevity. Other activities include lighting firecrackers & giving money in red envelopes.

• Candlemas- is a Christian feast day on February 2nd commemorating the presentation of Jesus at the Temple. It is based upon the account of the presentation of Jesus in Luke 2:22-40.

While it is customary for Christians in some countries to remove their Christmas decorations on Twelfth Night, those in other Christian countries historically remove them after Candlemas.On Candlemas, many Christians also take their candles to their local church, where they are blessed and then used for the rest of the year.

•Setsubun- (February 3rd) Is the day before the beginning of spring in the old calendar in Japan. The name literally means 'seasonal division', referring to the day just before the first day of spring.

Both Setsubun & Risshun are celebrated yearly as part of the Spring Festival (Haru matsuri ) in Japan. In its association with the Lunar New Year, Setsubun, though not the official New Year, was thought of as similar in its ritual & cultural associations of 'cleansing' the previous year as the beginning of the new season of spring. Setsubun was accompanied by a number of rituals & traditions held at various levels to drive away the previous year's bad fortunes & evil spirits for the year to come.

Other Celebrations:

• Lupercalia-

In ancient Rome, this festival was conducted annually on February 13th through 15th under the superintendence of a corporation of priests called Luperci. The origins of the festival are obscure, although the likely derivation of its name from lupus (Latin: “wolf”) has variously suggested connection with an ancient deity who protected herds from wolves and with the legendary she-wolf who nursed Romulus and Remus. As a fertility rite, the festival is also associated with the god Faunus.

to purify the city, promoting health & fertility.

Each Lupercalia began with the sacrifice by the Luperci of goats and a dog, after which two of the Luperci were led to the altar, their foreheads were touched with a bloody knife & the blood was wiped off with wool dipped in milk; the ritual required that the two young men laugh. The sacrificial feast followed, after which the Luperci cut thongs from the skins of the sacrificial animals & ran in two bands around the Palatine hill, striking with the thongs at any woman who came near them. A blow from the thong was supposed to render a woman fertile.

In 494 CE the Christian church under Pope Gelasius I forbade participation in the festival. Tradition holds that he appropriated the form of the rite as the Feast of the Purification (Candlemas), celebrated on February 2, but it is likely that the Christian feast was established in the previous century. It has also been alternately suggested that Pope Gelasius I replaced Lupercalia with St. Valentine’s Day, celebrated on February 14th, but the origin of that holiday was likely much later.

Sources:

Farmersalmanac .com

Llewellyn's Complete Book of Correspondences by Sandra Kines

Wikipedia

A Witch's Book of Correspondences by Viktorija Briggs

Encyclopedia britannica

Llewellyn 2024 magical almanac Practical magic for everyday living

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enby-hawke · 2 years ago

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Chapter 28- Dirty Laundry

Ship: Malcolm/Leandra

Tw: racism, pedophilia, rape, corporal punishment, child abuse, sexual harrassment

Malcolm floated nebulously in the Fade as the Spirits and Avarice weaved their healing song, trying to rebuild his broken body. They soothed Malcolm’s fractured mind with their angelic voices but Malcolm fought them at every turn, his despair a dead weight pulling him down into the abyss. Even with all of their power, he was slipping further and further from their grasp.

Avarice sang purposefully out of tune, discordant, and she clashed against the other Spirits but still, as promised, she lent her strength to Malcolm, letting her voice be an anchor to keep him from drifting away.

Malcolm was lost in the depths of his mind. The Spirits could feel his link to the Fade dissolving in spite of their pull on him. Malcolm’s hope was dead, and he was letting himself fall into the Void. If nothing happened soon, Zelophehad would be free to claim his broken body.

But then when it seemed like all hope was lost, Leandra came back with her healing kiss, breathing life back into Malcolm. And finally, with the promise of her return on his lips, Malcolm allowed himself to be healed.

Finally his shattered ribs started to fuse back together, the swelling in his brain shrank, and his tendons reattached to his bones. Malcolm’s wounds were finally responding to their life-healing magic as he finally found his will to survive.

It took ages but, when Malcolm woke up, he found himself in the middle of the flower forest nestled in a patch of clover, a bed of jasmine surrounding him. The forest looked a bit brighter, but Malcolm knew this was a dull mirage of its former splendor. He looked around to see Compassion, Chef, Honesty, Kindness, Avarice, and a new Spirit he didn’t recognize circling around him, their harmonies fading from their throats.

Honesty turned excitedly to look at their shoulder, where Kindness was sitting, and the two of them shared a giggle.

“Finally,” Avarice rolled her eyes and stalked off into a dark corner under a red rose bush, avoiding the rest of the Spirits.

Compassion cupped Malcolm’s cheeks, her azure face beaming at him. “You did well, Somniari.”

Malcolm still felt fuzzy, his thoughts in a jumble as he tried to gather them. He had a vague recollection of the flogging, but the event itself had been blacked out of his mind, like the memory had been scooped out and placed on a shelf.

His vision was blurry as he looked at the new Spirit before him. They were an orange Templar who looked so much like Carver, it was spooky. He had the same strong nose, the same squinting annoyance in his eyes. Even his silky hair was tied in a similar ponytail, with a ribbon and all.

The Spirit seemed to sense Malcolm’s uneasiness. “I am not your friend Carver. My name is Protection. I was birthed from you, and since you see him as your greatest protector, I took his image.” Protection put his hand over his chest. “I see that makes you uneasy. I can take another form, though I admit this form is rather comfortable for me.”

Malcolm widened his eyes, feeling like this was too weird to properly comment on. “But if you’re not Carver…”

The Spirit flinched. “That is not my name,” he snapped with similar strictness. “It is simply an image that has protected you.” He placed a hand on Malcolm’s shoulder and he could feel Carver’s sunlight warmth. “Unlike the other Spirits, who guard the land that you are connected with, I guard you. I was made with part of your soul so I am a literal part of you. My only purpose is to protect you and those you love. Zelophehad will not lay claim on any of us while I stand.”

Malcolm nodded. He felt a little shaky, realizing how close he came to dying. Like Carver, this Spirit put him at ease, and Malcolm felt he could trust he spoke the truth.

Malcolm still felt weak, his mind sluggish and tired, his energy sapped and his body aching with fatigue.

“It is no matter,” Compassion smiled, and stroked the curls off of Malcolm’s forehead. “You made it through the hardest part. Now we are safe.”

“Safe?” Avarice laughed sardonically as she plucked off a leaf from a rose branch. “Zelophehad claws at our doorstep and you think us safe?” She tore the leaf to pieces in her claws and the matter dissolved into light before it hit the grass.

Compassion glowered at the demon. “And who do we have to thank for leading Zelophehad straight to us?”

Avarice smirked. “You think that I have control over the fabric of fear?” Avarice narrowed her eyes at Compassion. “You know every demon is under his compulsion. The only way I was able to break it is with the Somniari’s bond.” She smiled ecstatically. “This is the first time I’ve been able to walk free in eons.”

Compassion lifted her chin. “And you would lead the Somniari astray from his path?”

Avarice’s smile sharpened. “I only wish to show him how to master the power you would deny him.”

Malcolm held his head, still feeling woozy. “Will you all just give me a moment to collect myself?” He could still feel pain lacing his body and fogging his thoughts. It was a struggle to remain coherent.

Compassion touched his shoulder, her healing energy clearing up some of the cloudiness in his mind. “It is time for you to rest, Somniari. We’ll lend our strength until you are better.”

Avarice snarled, the fuchsia flame on her head flashing. “There is no time! The Somniari must master his fear before Zelophehad strikes again. He remains vulnerable until he does. Or are you conveniently not telling the Somniari his loved ones have been hunted every night since his slumber.”

Malcolm jerked at the mention of Zelophehad’s name, as if he had been burnt. “What?” he turned to Compassion with wide eyes. “Is that true?”

Compassion put a calming hand on Malcolm’s shoulder. “Protection was able to ward off Zelophehad and, now that you have woken, Zelophehad will not be as bold.”

Malcolm gritted his teeth, uneasiness still riding his gut. “But Avarice is right. As long as my fear controls me, Zelophehad will win.”

Avarice raised her head, a haughty smile on her lips. “You have all done your best, but only a demon can truly understand a mortal. Allow me to train the Somniari for a time.”

“Absolutely not!” Compassion’s curly spirals whipped angrily.

Malcolm could hear all the Spirits clamoring in protest but he raised his voice over them, “Don’t you think I should get a say on how I should be trained?”

Chef waved his spindly arms. “Listen to this demon and you may further corrupt the land and yourself. You must not allow her even a single foothold into your mind. The fact you’ve Bonded with her is foolish enough!”

“Only I can offer him insights on how his enemy actually works.” There was a whisper of a smirk and mischief in Avarice’s eyes.

Compassion’s eyes burst with blue flames and she looked almost ready to attack. “We have been doing fine guiding the Somniari!”

“Have you? Because I feel like it’s been months and I’ve gotten nowhere closer to defeating Zelophehad.” Malcolm drew himself to his feet though he found his legs a little wobbly, his spine like jelly. He looked at Avarice with determination in his eyes. “If you think you know something different, tell me. I’ll decide if you have something worth teaching.”

Avarice’s smirk grew sharp. “Of course, Somniari, but not here.” She waved her hand and a dark purple mirror appeared in a giant mushroom. “Come to the heart of my realm. I would not want your volatile emotions to warp these delicate little Spirits.”

Malcolm suddenly felt uneasy. This sounded like a bad idea.

Protection stepped forward, bowing with his hand over his heart. “Allow me to accompany you, Somniari. Unlike the others, I am not as easily corrupted.”

Avarice raised a fine, thin eyebrow. “Scared I’ll attack the Somniari?”

Protection turned to Avarice and bowed to her as well. “You are the Somniari’s ally. I am sworn to protect you, too.” He patted Malcolm on the shoulder. “The Somniari possesses much raw strength, but right now he is weak. I do not know how secure your realm is from Zelophehad.”

Avarice sniffed sharply. “My realm is well hidden from Zelophehad and would do better with fewer leaks.”

Protection raised his head. “Regardless, my purpose prevents me from leaving the Somniari’s side. I’m afraid you’ll have to put up with me and trust my nature will not betray you to our enemy.”

Avarice rolled her eyes, her whip-like tail snapping in annoyance. “Very well. Follow if you must.”

Avarice disappeared into the portal with a snort.

Malcolm walked up to the portal, his gut twisting.

Compassion stopped him by the shoulder. “I do not know what that demon will tell you, but do not trust a word.”

Malcolm raised an eyebrow. “I’m not even sure I trust your words.”

Compassion frowned. “Which is why our lessons are not sinking in.”

Malcolm rolled his shoulders, shaking her off. “This isn’t about trust. This is about survival. You’ve all guided me as well as you can, but you know Avarice knows things about Zelophehad that you don’t.”

Compassion thinned her lips, pulling back her hand. “I supposed that is true…”

Protection touched Compassion’s hand gently. “I will be at the Somniari’s side every step of the way. Trust in my power.”

Compassion reached up and touched Protection’s cheek. “I do.”

Avarice then stuck her head out of the portal. “Are you coming? The longer I keep this open, the more likely one of Zelophehad’s eyes spots it. Hurry up!” Her head disappeared back into the portal, her long twisted horns dragging behind her.

Malcolm sighed and pulled himself to the portal. He did feel better having a goliath-like Spirit as a bodyguard.

He stepped through, feeling the dip between the worlds as he always did. For a moment he could feel the Void in the in-between and he knew that if he cut the surface he could touch it, but he didn’t know how dangerous that would be.

Soon enough he stepped out into a forest, almost like the flower forest but filled with thorny vines. There was a treehouse that looked much too grand to actually be called that. It was at least a hundred feet wide and reached high into the sky. Thorny branches shot upwards to touch the Black City. This whole area of the Fade had an eerie feeling, but it was also beautiful and peaceful, with its own interesting twisted creatures that skittered among the forest floor, strange insect-like things with too many eyes and limbs.

Protection appeared beside Malcolm only a few moments later. He glared at all the creatures that passed and they skittered away at the sight of the Spirit, appearing to sizzle in his light.

Avarice crooked her fingers, beckoning Malcolm to the base of the tree. She led him to the hollowed out base and into a palace that seemed to stretch on for acres. All the walls were made of living wood that seemed to breathe, expanding and contracting like a heart. The wood looked warped, like pulsing veins, and Malcolm thought he could see liquid rushing within them that reminded him of blood.

Avarice’s tail swayed back and forth like a metronome. “Relax Somniari. You don’t have to guard your heart as hard here. You can let yourself bleed.”

Malcolm stared at all of the arches and pillars that reached up into the hollowed out tree. He realized they were walking within a network of forests. The ground was strangely warm under him, and slightly damp. There was a strange fungal smell that wasn’t exactly unpleasant, but too weird and unnerving to make sense of.

Avarice walked him to a pool that looked like the basin of a waterfall. She stepped in, the water reaching her hips, and motioned for Malcolm to join her. Moonlight reflected off the water.

Malcolm hesitated, feeling something strange about the energy.

Avarice smiled. “You feel it. This is my mirror. I admit I use it to look at myself, but I find I like my reflection. You might not find yours as flattering.”

Malcolm stared at the surface of the water, his distorted reflection looking queer among the dark distorted snarling branches that crossed his face. He already knew he didn’t like himself. He wasn’t sure he wanted to see what would reflect back at him.

Malcolm stared back at Protection to find him guarding him at the edge of the pool with a grim look on his face. His sword and shield were at the ready for any intruders, but it seemed like nothing would dare challenge this Spirit.

Feeling confident that Protection was watching his back, Malcolm stepped into the pool.

It was strange. He was hyper aware of himself all of a sudden, like all the emotions he hid from himself had bubbled to the surface. Hatred, insecurity, fear, vulnerability.

He could feel the pool responding to him, and images started to form. It was his reflection but it was made of moving memories that made up who he was. He saw the face of his father and mother splitting him in half, both sides fighting to take dominance.

Avarice’s voice echoed across the water, vibrating in his heart. “You are not like me, a demon, or any other Spirit. You hold both light and dark in your heart, and as long as you only accept one side of yourself, you will never bring yourself into balance.”

Malcolm touched his chest, feeling the truth in her words. “But I don’t want to be like my father!”

Avarice smirked as if she knew that would be his answer. “But you are your father’s son. You were molded from his soul. His actions are reflected in your own. Deny this and you deny the truth.”

Malcolm could feel himself start to panic at this thought. He didn’t want to hurt his friends or Leandra. He would rather destroy himself than let that happen.

Avarice walked up to Malcolm, the water splashing at her hips and she placed her claws on his chest. “Breathe Somniari. Feel that fear. Acknowledge it exists.”

Malcolm glared at her, pushing her away. “What is the point of all this? Is this some kind of fucked up mind game?!”

Avarice didn’t seem to be bothered by being manhandled. She had a sharp knowing smile. “If you cannot even acknowledge your fear, how can you see it properly for what it is? Did the Spirits not tell you this?”

They said something along those words, but it never made sense before. “They told me to redirect,” Malcolm spat. “Not to poke at it.”

Avarice dragged her claw against her breast. “When a Spirit works through their conflicting emotions, they forget and keep themselves pure. But you are tainted by every action. The echo of its weight is shadowed in all you do. Stuff down the emotion and you only plant it like a seed. Eventually it will take root and trip you.” Avarice clenched her claws. “Face it for what it is and understand it is part of you.” She pressed her other claw against his wildly beating heart. “Learn to love your fear, and you realize your fear is just a message that you can choose to hear or ignore.” She patted Malcolm’s cheek. “Don’t shoot the messenger.”

Malcolm looked at his reflection again, seeing his mother as strongly as his father. Malcolm gritted his teeth. He couldn’t look at the water any longer. He raised his eyes to Avarice. “But how do I stop myself from following my father’s footsteps?”

Avarice's smile actually seemed kind. “You already know, Somniari. You make the choice.” She pointed back at his reflection. “But you cannot make the choice clearly if you do not even know you are making it.”

Malcolm stared back at the memories moving in the face of his reflection. He saw his father’s temper reflected in ripples of his own actions, his jealousy, his malice, his arrogance. But he also saw his Mother’s kindness, her laughter, her protectiveness. Together they made up his whole reflection, flaws and strengths, the darkness and light forming a balance in the image.

Malcolm started to realize that if he took away those shadows that the image would remain incomplete, that he would be a washed out version of himself.

“Now you see yourself clearly,” Avarice nodded, stepping away to give him a clearer view. He could start to see how his anger was used to destroy and protect. How his love was suffocating and healing.

Balance.

That’s what the Spirits were trying to teach him. But Avarice was right. If the Spirits were feeling what was mangling his heart now, they would all be corrupted.

This truth unravelled itself to Malcolm, and he felt himself being reborn with this understanding. He didn’t need to hate his anger. He didn’t need to squash his fears like bugs. He realized he needed every part of himself.

Avarice seemed satisfied with the way Malcolm was staring at himself. “Zelophehad might try to hide in your shadows but if you make the shadows your home he is just another creature dwelling in the dark.” Avarice disrupted Malcolm’s reflection with her long claw. “Now you train with me until you master the darkness in your heart.”

Malcolm stared at the ripples of his reflection with a strange disquiet, but for the first time he was starting to trust Avarice. He wasn’t sure if that was a mistake. “Alright,” he nodded. “Let’s begin, then.”

——

It took almost two weeks for Jaheem to get the proper paperwork together and file the right injunctions to properly investigate the Circle, and he was grateful he could get them in even that fast. Jaheem knew he might not get another opportunity to attack the Circle so he called in every favor he could think of. He wanted to make sure this strike counted.

It did help that he had Leandra to assist with calling in those favors and navigating paperwork. Though she said she didn’t know what she was doing, she did quite well keeping track of his busy schedule and wading through legal injunctions.

Jaheem unloaded most of his case work to focus all his attention on the Circle investigation. He’d need to since it wasn’t only the Templars fighting this investigation, but the Viscount’s office as well.

Jaheem had already been served several blustery cease and desist letters written on some threatening parchment, but Jaheem knew he was well within his rights to sue based on Leandra’s testimony alone.

The thing was one incident would be easy enough to sweep under the rug, an overzealous Templar a little too drunk with power, but if Jaheem could prove this was part of an ongoing pattern, then he would finally have a legal foothold and precedence to start pushing through his reforms in Kirkwall.

It was a plan with many working parts that needed all of his concentration, which was hard to do when the predicament of the precarious state of his relationship with Leandra weighed heavily on his mind.

Jaheem has always pegged Leandra as a level-headed woman, but level-headed was not what one would describe her the day she found out Malcolm had been put in a coma by the Knight-Captain. Jaheem knew she had every right to be upset. Malcolm had suffered a great injustice, there was no doubt. But several traffic tickets and a nearly towed car easily told him where Leandra’s feelings lay. And if that didn’t, the tears that she shed in relief when Jaheem agreed to help Malcolm did.

Jaheem would be lying to say he wasn’t bothered that Leandra wanted to return to her ex. If he were a pettier man, he might have made her choose between them in that fragile moment, but Jaheem was from a very esteemed family who raised him with the best manners. He knew that if he was to win Leandra’s heart, it would have to be because she chose him for who he was and not what he was holding over her. So the only thing he could think to do was to put his best foot forward and hope, even as his jealousy burned him.

There was anticipation tingling Jaheem’s spine when he drove to Mara’s house to pick up Leandra. They would be asking mages to come forward to testify to more abuses, and Leandra was to record and take notes so Jaheem could focus on his client’s body language and words.

He liked to be completely engaged in the moment, and found note-taking incredibly distracting. And while a recording device could theoretically take care of everything, he could admit that he wanted a reason to have Leandra around, even if he was just giving her busywork to do. He could tell she liked feeling helpful anyhow.

Leandra was waiting for him on her porch, sporting a rather flirty pink business skirt suit. The color was much too cheery and not exactly appropriate for interviews, but Jaheem wouldn’t say anything because he rather liked the color on Leandra. She cut a fine figure in those sleek lines, and the little ruffle on her collar was very playfully her. Still, he couldn’t help but feel like she was dressing extra nice knowing that she was on her way to see her ex.

Jaheem got out of the car and opened the front seat for Leandra, who approached with two thermoses in her hands.

Leandra seemed extra perky today, with a spring in her step, and Jaheem’s heart fell knowing that bounce wasn’t for him. She handed Jaheem a thermos. “Two strong Antivan machiattos just the way you like it. Mara swears it’s just like Coffee Star’s.”

Jaheem smiled brightly as he nodded in thanks and took a tentative sip. It took everything in him not to gag. It was somehow way too bitter and too sweet at the same time. How Leandra made this even happen confounded him. Still, Jaheem’s smile stayed shining. “Mara’s right. I can’t tell the difference.”

Leandra beamed, her dimples twinkling. “I’m telling you, I’m getting better at this normal person thing. One day I’ll nail cooking, too! Mara says my rice is getting less lumpy!” Her smile was so heavenly it made Jaheem’s heart flutter and he knew he couldn’t crush her with the truth.

She hopped into the front seat and Jaheem buckled her in like usual. He rather liked to pamper her when she would let him, and thankfully even with her ex's return it seemed like she would allow him this small gesture.

Jaheem got in the front seat and started pulling out of the driveway and back towards the highway to Lowtown. Jaheem’s full lips pulled thinly in a frown. “I do want to warn you that the stories we hear today might be… gruesome. A lady of your constitution might not be able to handle it. If you want to take this moment to just visit with your nephew, I would not blame you.”

There was that, but there was also the fact that Jaheem was uncomfortable with the idea of seeing Malcolm and Leandra together. Jaheem thought he and Leandra got along well, but when Malcolm wasn’t even conscious he had a stronger pull on her than Jaheem did. Jaheem wasn’t sure what would happen if they actually talked again.

Leandra seemed offended by what he’d said, and she crossed her arms and huffed. “I didn’t sign on to be your legal secretary to just get you coffee and manage your schedule and paperwork. I want to know what’s happening too.”

Jaheem knew that would be the answer but, still, he sighed. “Very well, but if you need to excuse yourself, please do so.”

Leandra sniffed sharply and stared at the highway. “You underestimate me, Messere Omenma.”

Jaheem smiled, the formality seeming so strange on her lips but that was probably the point.

He had to admit, Leandra’s gumption was the reason he was attracted to her in the first place. If Malcolm wasn’t involved, Jaheem would have found the fact that Leandra stormed the Circle without clearance incredibly hot.

It was probably good that it took Jaheem several weeks to get clearance, because Malcolm was finally conscious again and had even begun light physical therapy. Jaheem knew he needed a full account of what Malcolm went through since he was the centerpiece of his case, but Jaheem admitted he had reservations about speaking to the man. Jaheem wasn’t sure what Leandra saw in him, but he guessed Malcolm must be remarkable for a man of his station to sweep Leandra off her feet so readily that she’d overlook cheating.

When they left the car, Jaheem conveniently 'forgot' his coffee and interestingly enough, so did Leandra.

Jaheem felt Leandra’s apprehension as they traveled over the water on the train to the Gallows. Her eyes were fixated on the Circle towers, filled with determination and worry. If Malcolm wasn’t involved, Jaheem would have thought to reach out and squeeze her hand, but he worried that his touch would be an intrusion.

“For us to actually make it a class action suit, we need about twenty mages to come forward, and that will already be difficult enough without the Templar’s intimidation tactics. To be honest, this might be rather risky for them.” Jaheem knew that talking business was safe, but not likely to make Leandra’s heart flutter. Still, he wasn’t sure she was prepared for what was coming.

“We have to convince them that coming forward is the only way to change things. Surely, they don’t want it to stay like this forever.” Leandra seemed undeterred by any of the facts he presented, which only made him fall a little deeper. It was hard to find someone with his stubborn optimism.

Jaheem looked down at his hands, thinking of the Chantry soldiers always parked on every street corner of Rivain, and clenched them to hide the shake. “You don’t know what it’s like to live in fear, Lady Amell. It’s hard to be brave when it’s not just your life on your line but your whole family.” Jaheem bit his tongue. This was not the time for him to gripe about his troubles. “In any case, everyone will be quite intimidated with the state Malcolm was left in. I don’t think the Templars will do anything that extreme again with us watching, but we mustn't do anything to provoke them.” He looked at Leandra to see that her face was tense with unease. It was an appropriate response but the guilt ate at him.

When he offered her this job, he had no idea he would be dragging her into the heart of his fight. “Talk to the mages, but make sure to stick to the rules. Don’t go out of bounds.” Jaheem bit his lip, trying to think of a delicate way to put this. "And try not to… sass anyone."

Leandra scoffed like he knew she would, blowing the bangs off her forehead. “I’m not sassy!”

Jaheem bit back a smile. She was and that’s why he liked her, but he knew better than to argue. “No matter, just remember: if the Maker wouldn’t approve, just keep it in your head.” He tapped the center of her forehead with a thick finger.

Leandra opened her mouth but shut it when she realized she didn’t have an argument.

Jaheem knew that would be the case. He knew how to read people well enough that it never took long to find a subject that would either persuade them or shut them up, sometimes at the same time. And in Leandra’s case, the subject would always be her Maker.

He was Jaheem’s Maker, too, but they had a bittersweet relationship. In Rivain, he was known as the conquerer God that had slain all the others, so all Jaheem had left to worship was Him. The Maker was not even satisfied with just worship. A selfish God like him took even memory, so all Jaheem had of the other Gods were a handful of tales and names, whispered from parent to child, sister to brother, in the hush of the candlelight.

Jaheem didn’t know if he could ever bring this up to Leandra. If he did, could she even hear his pain, or would she just hear a slight against her Maker? He didn’t know the answer to that, or maybe he did, and that’s why he hoped to introduce his Rivaini side to her slowly, so she would give him a chance, rather than reject him on principle.

Still, the Maker always did have a way to complicate things.

As they stepped into the Gallows they were greeted by Knight-Commander Guylian and Knight-Captain Meredith. They both stood grimly, their faces clear that Jaheem and Leandra were unwelcome intrusions.

The Knight-Commander was pink, threatening to go red, a scowl etching deep wrinkles into his face.

Meredith however looked like a mountain lion perched on top of a tree, ready to pounce. She smirked at Jaheem. “This isn’t some backwater country. We’re civilized here and our mages know their place.” She squinted her eyes in a mocking glare. “Your little lawsuit will fizzle out before it picks up steam. No one but Malcolm is dumb enough to come forward.”

Jaheem turned to Leandra as he looked at his watch. “Mark that at 11:12am the Knight-Captain used intimidation tactics and implied she had coercive silence over her charges.”

Leandra took out her notebook and gel pen, the end decorated by a pink pom-pom that bobbed as she scribbled his words in her notebook. Jaheem had to bite back a smile at the little determined furrow in her brow. He tried to remember this was a serious moment, but she was being so adorable.

Meredith was now red, too. “You can’t just make up charges!”

Jaheem squared his shoulders. He easily towered over the Templars and made an intimating silhouette in his navy blue suit. He took out the paper folded from his front pocket and showed the Viscount’s seal. It took him every favor to even get that seal.

“This is an official sanction for me to fully investigate. I’m free to move about the common areas of the Circle. You are to set up a private room for the mages to discuss their grievances without a Templar present.”

The Knight-Commander’s lips thinned. “A Templar must be present. There’s an abomination running amok.”

Jaheem turned to Leandra. “Our waivers.”

Leandra reached into her mauve briefcase and pulled out two forms and handed them over to the Templars. “We acknowledge any harm that falls to us on Circle grounds is our fault. We forfeit our right and our family's rights to sue or seek any other legal recourse, should we fall victim to the abomination. Any magical injury or accident that may otherwise occur during our stay is our own responsibility.”

The two Templars looked at each other, knowing that their hands had been tied.

Jaheem raised his chin. “Take me to my main client. I believe he’s now conscious, yes?”

Meredith sniffed but turned on her heel stalking off deeper into the Circle without a word.

As Jaheem and Leandra passed, Knight-Commander Guylian glared. “Mind yourself, now. I won’t hesitate to throw you out if you give me a headache.”

Jaheem smiled graciously and nodded, knowing the threat was empty. "Of course, Commander."

Meredith led Jaheem into a wing of the Circle that had light exercise equipment and a lot of mirrors. Some light was peeking in from the bars on the windows.

Meredith stormed off as soon as she saw them to the room without so much as saying a goodbye.

A Chantry priestess was helping steady Malcolm as he breathed through a stretch. Malcolm was groaning as he tried to reach for his foot with his opposite hand, using the wall for balance, but it seemed the motion was giving him difficulty.

“Very good, Malcolm. I’m seeing more strength and elasticity in your muscles.” The Chantry sister smiled. She was a pale woman with rosy cheeks and even rosier lips. Her strawberry blond hair peeked out of her wimple.

Jaheem couldn’t help but notice the way Leandra’s eyes lit up when she saw Malcolm. Jaheem’s heart fell as he realized that Leandra had never looked that way at him.

When Malcolm turned his head, he tripped slightly, almost falling flat on his face.

Leandra yelped and scurried up to him, grabbing Malcolm by the arm even though the Sister already had him.

Leandra took his other arm, looping it around her shoulders so he could lean into her. “Malcolm, you shouldn’t strain yourself.” She was already helping him to the bench to the Sister’s dismay.

When the Chantry Sister looked at Leandra, understanding flickered in her eyes, and with a wry smile, she quietly excused herself to a corner and picked up the Chant of Light and started reading it. Jaheem noticed she kept herself in earshot, just close enough to eavesdrop.

Malcolm didn’t fight Leandra’s pull, but still he said, “Don’t worry so much, babe. I’m supposed to strain myself a little.”

Jaheem flinched at the casual way Malcolm flung the word ‘babe’ like he was taunting Jaheem with it.

Jaheem glanced at Leandra, but she didn’t even blink at the pet name.

“Still,” Leandra sat him down, setting her briefcase to the side. She smoothed out the collar on his robe. “Don’t push yourself so hard.”

Jaheem could see the subtle smug smirk on Malcolm’s face when he glanced over his shoulder.

That’s all it took. Jaheem already hated him.

But Jaheem had a job to do, and he wasn’t going to let his petty feelings get in the way of it. He walked up to Malcolm with a polite smile on his face. “Serah Hawke, it’s good to meet you.” He extended his hand in greeting.

Malcolm looked at the hand as if it stunk, but he glanced at Leandra.

She was not exactly hanging off of Malcolm, but she was hovering so close her body seemed pulled to him like a magnet. She looked at Malcolm expectantly, and Malcolm dropped his shoulders, his ears drooping. Reluctantly, he tucked his hand in Jaheem’s. Jaheem was surprised with its softness.

Malcolm narrowed his golden eyes in a glare and was definitely squeezing too hard. Jaheem found his grip surprisingly powerful for a man who had just come out of a coma.

Malcolm looked up and down, his eyes lingering on Jaheem’s beefy arms, his jaw and ears twitching slightly in what appeared to be annoyance. He seemed to be assessing Jaheem, and Jaheem had to admit he was doing the same.

Malcolm was not a tall or broad man by any means, but he exuded a confidence that told Jaheem he didn’t need to rely on muscle. He was also remarkably handsome, more so than his photos showed. Jaheem was starting to wonder if he even stood a chance against Malcolm, with the way Leandra’s eyes sparkled when she looked at him.

“So you’re my lawyer,” Malcolm drawled as he took his hand back. “Nice to meet you.” His voice definitely sounded sarcastic, but Leandra didn’t seem to catch on.

“Nice to meet you, too,” Jaheem echoed back, trying to sound more genuine. “As you probably can guess, I need to ask you some questions about the flogging incident.”

Leandra was already bringing out the recorder, and grabbed her notebook and gel pen, ready to take notes.

Malcolm snorted when he saw the pom-pom pen.

Leandra’s cheeks flushed. “What? What’s so funny?”

“You’re just cute,” Malcolm chuckled.

Jaheem grimaced at the pleased blush on Leandra's cheeks.

She swatted him. “Be serious! Your life is on the line!”

Malcolm flinched, but whether he was actually in pain or he was playing it up Jaheem couldn’t tell. “How dare you? Hitting a wounded man. Have some class, lady!”

Leandra laughed brightly, her voice like a melody. Her eyes flung nervously to Jaheem as she realized, but Jaheem chose that moment to look away. It was difficult for him to see their natural chemistry.

Jaheem cleared his throat, unusually unfocused. “How about you walk me through the incident? What exactly happened?”

Malcolm’s posture suddenly changed. There was a stiffness in his shoulders that wasn’t there before and he dropped his eyes. “Well, it started when I pissed in Matt’s ashes.” He made a snarling smile. “Guess the Templars still don’t have a sense of humor.”

Leandra scowled at Malcolm, obviously annoyed by his response.

Jaheem raised his thick shaved eyebrow. “I understood that you were protecting Isaac Amell.”

“He was!” Leandra argued. “Malcolm, this is serious! Don’t lie!”

Jaheem gritted his teeth. “Lady Amell, I must ask you to refrain from responding for Malcolm. This is his interview, not yours. Please just take notes.” He felt awkward chastising Leandra, but the more she interjected the less credible the interview would be. And they still needed to gather testimony from other mages today, so they couldn’t spend their precious time debating this.

Leandra opened her mouth to argue, before her cheeks burned. Then she started scribbling down something in her notebook which she underlined three times with quick jerky movements. Jaheem took a peek and it said “Malcolm is lying!!!”

Jaheem eyed Malcolm curiously. He understood why Malcolm was lying, but he needed the truth. “So why did you… piss in Ser Mark’s ashes?” Jaheem frowned, not used to speaking so vulgarly.

Malcolm snorted, blowing some dark curls off his forehead. “Cause the dude deserved it. Do I need a better reason?”

Leandra didn’t say anything, but she did give Malcolm a swift kick with her heel, causing Malcolm to yelp.

Malcolm chuckled, rubbing his shin with his hand, but he gave her a wink.

That’s when Jaheem spotted a curious ribbon on Malcolm’s wrist. It definitely belonged in a woman’s hair, not as a bracelet. On closer inspection, Jaheem noticed that on the end of the ribbon was the mark of the Amell sigil.

Jaheem wished that didn’t annoy him so much. Had he lost to Malcolm before he even had a chance to fight for Leandra?

Jaheem shook his head. He needed to focus on the case, not his love life. “Why did Ser Marks deserve that? Was there a particular incident that makes you say that?”

Malcolm rolled up the sleeve of his robe showing a strange bend in his arm when he held it out. “Which incident do you want?” His eyes were hard and unforgiving.

Jaheem gulped down his discomfort, and turned to Leandra who was looking at Malcolm with glistening eyes.

“Lady Amell,” Jaheem said gently, pulling Leandra’s eyes back to him. “Note that Malcolm showed proof of extensive injuries leading up to the incident. Also see if we can pull Malcolm’s medical records. Maybe we can start putting together a timeline for these events.”

Malcolm snorted again. “Good luck.”

Leandra��s lips were a thin worried line as she scribbled down what Jaheem said.

“Serah Hawke, can you walk me through the incident itself?”

Malcolm sighed letting his head fall back and thud against the wall. “Maker, I barely remember it. Can’t you just ask someone else? The whole Circle witnessed it.”

“I could,” Jaheem confirmed. “And I will, but I’d like to hear it straight from you.”

Malcolm glanced at Leandra who nudged him with her elbow with urgency in her eyes. Jaheem bristled at the casual way she touched Malcolm. With Jaheem, she was always keeping herself at a respectful distance, but with Malcolm it seemed like she was using any reason to reach out.

Every time Leandra squeezed Malcolm's arm or adjusted his collar, or fussed with his curls, Malcolm would glance at Jaheem, a smug smirk quirking at the corner of his lips.

It took everything in Jaheem not to slug him.

Malcolm casually leaned into Leandra, his hand resting on her thigh.

Jaheem’s eyes fell on Malcolm's hand and, with the way Malcolm's smirk widened, Jaheem knew this was another taunt.

Leandra didn’t seem to notice the hand on her thigh, and stared raptly at attention for Malcolm to speak.

“Well, what do you want me to say? After I pissed in Matt’s ashes, Meredith dragged me to the Courtyard and beat the shit out of me and I don’t really remember much after that.”

Leandra placed her hand over Malcolm’s, their fingers intertwining immediately, her eyes filled with worry.

Jaheem frowned, trying not to stare at their hands. Did she even realize she was holding it in front of him?

Jaheem shook his head, trying to shake off his nerves but when he looked away he caught a glimpse of Malcolm and Leandra in the mirror.

They looked so in sync with each other, like they had already mastered each other's rhythm. Jaheem wondered if even their hearts beat together.

Jaheem closed his eyes. “Still… urinating in a Templar’s ashes is a pretty serious offense. Are you sure there’s no particular reason you did it?”

Malcolm snarled, as if Jaheem had prodded his wounds. “Look, I was pretty stressed okay. I had just come out of a month’s stint of solitary. I wasn’t thinking straight.” He brushed back his curls, clearly nervous.

Leandra squeezed Malcolm’s hand. “Malcolm, you were in solitary? Why didn’t you tell me?”

Malcolm hunched his shoulders. “We weren’t together. It didn’t matter.”

Jaheem noticed the way Malcolm phrased that. Weren’t together, implying that they were now.

These weren’t the facts he was supposed to be digging up.

Leandra cupped Malcolm’s cheek. “Of course it mattered.”

Malcolm’s eyes raised to meet Leandra’s and suddenly there was an electricity in the air as they stared at each other. There was definitely a pull between them, and Jaheem thought if he didn’t interrupt them, they might kiss.

Jaheem coughed into his hand and suddenly Malcolm and Leandra broke apart.

Leandra took back her hands as if she’d been slapped. Her cheeks flamed and she patted them before pretending to write something in her notebook.

Malcolm glanced back at Jaheem and raised a taunting eyebrow, a self-satisfied smirk tugging on his lips.

Jaheem tried to ignore him. “A month in solitary? The longest you’re supposed to be down there is fifteen days.”

Malcolm rolled his eyes. "You think they care? I was in there for thirty-five, came right out, just to get my ass beat.” He lounged back in his seat, casually resting his arm behind Leandra so he was almost hanging off her. “That's the Circle for you. You can ask around. My case isn’t unusual.”

“I will ask around, thank you,” Jaheem nodded. He looked over at Leandra to find her already jotting down Malcolm’s words. Leandra didn’t seem to realize it, but she was practically tucking herself in the crook of Malcolm’s arm, leaning into him.

Jaheem knew he should ask more questions, but he wasn’t going to be able to concentrate with Leandra fawning all over Malcolm. Since Malcolm was being uncooperative anyway, Jaheem decided to end the interview early, and try to see if he could find the truth elsewhere.

“Well, we have a long day ahead of us. We should see if any of the other mages will be willing to join your class action lawsuit.”

Leandra’s face fell. “Already?”

Malcolm hid his chuckle in his hand.

Leandra’s face burned as she suddenly realized only now how unprofessional she was being. She turned off the recorder and straightened herself up and flattened the wrinkles in her business skirt suit as she picked up her briefcase. “I mean, right away, Messere Omenma.”

Jaheem stuck out his hand to Malcolm again like the gentleman he was. “Good luck on your recovery.”

“Good luck yourself,” Malcolm said sarcastically, and Jaheem knew he wasn’t talking about the case.

Malcolm took Jaheem’s hand and squeezed like a vice again. This time Jaheem squeezed back, comparing his strength for a moment to the elf. Jaheem thought he was definitely stronger physically, but he wasn’t sure that, once Malcolm was fully recovered, if he’d be able to take him in a real fight. Jaheem remembered the magical control Malcolm showed at Colette’s birthday party. He had never seen a mage that gifted, even back in Rivain.

Jaheem resisted the urge to throw Malcolm’s hand as he let go.

He courteously offered his arm to Leandra and his heart lifted when she took it with an eager smile, her dimples deepening again.

“I’m having a lot of fun,” she said giddily.

Jaheem couldn’t resist the chuckle in his throat and when he glanced at Malcolm, his expression had soured at the way Leandra’s hands looked so tiny on Jaheem’s bicep.

Leandra shouldn’t be having fun, and it hurt knowing that she was only having that much fun because Malcolm was present. Jaheem wondered if that peppy attitude would last when she heard what the other mages had to say.

Leandra’s eyes stayed glued to Malcolm even as they got to the door, waving happily. “Be good, Malcolm. Don’t go starting trouble now.” She almost sounded like a mother saying goodbye to her child for school.

Malcolm chuckled as he waved back. “I won’t, babe. Not with you watching.”

Jaheem tried not to be hurt with how brightly Leandra beamed at that.

As they walked away the Chantry Sister put down the Chant and approached Malcolm again. “Alright, Malcolm. Break’s over. Let’s work on your lower back now.”

Jaheem could hear Malcolm’s guttural groan as they turned the corner. “C’mon, Sis. Didn’t you hear that I got my ass beat? You could be a little more merciful.”

Leandra giggled into her hand before she caught herself, and then her cheeks were burning again. The energy between her and Jaheem became awkward as they walked down the hall.

Jaheem thought to ask her of Malcolm’s comment of them ‘not being together yet.’ Were they already dating again?

But he remembered that he was on duty and that these questions needed to wait.

“So we have four mages that will join our lawsuit and we need to interview them: Charlie Espinoza, Taylor Filene, Yevros Jakoby, and Orsino Ward. We have a classroom set aside for interviews, but we might have to go out there and see if anyone would be willing to talk to us if they don't come to us.”

Leandra’s eyes widened. “Only four mages?”

Jaheem put a reassuring hand on her shoulder, selfishly wanting to touch her. “We’ll get more, my Lady, don’t you worry.”

Jaheem found a random Templar walking the hallway, a brown man, with slick hair and a tiny mustache. “Lieutenant Jimenez,” Jaheem called out. He recognized the man from his files. “I believe the Knight-Commander was supposed to set aside a room for us.”

The Templar turned around and stiffened at the sight of Jaheem but still he straightened up. He gave an awkward salute, but then stopped mid-way as if he was unsure if he should actually show respect. He motioned with his hand. “We cleared out a classroom for you. This way.”

Jaheem and Leandra followed the Templar, arm in arm. Leandra stared at the dark corridors, the outdated lights flickering. Some of the wires sparked dangerously. The place smelled of mold and mildew, but since they were stranded out in the water, that made sense. Still the dank smell added to the miserable setting, along with iron bars along the windows that showed off the Kirkwall coastline, taunting the mages with glimpses of freedom.

Lieutenant Jiminez led Jaheem and Leandra to an empty classroom. It looked like an ordinary room, save for the bars in the window. There was the words 'Metaphysical Magic: the Domain of Creation belongs to the Maker' written on the chalkboard.

Lieutenant Jiminez bowed and said, “Senior Enchanter Jakoby can’t speak to you until the end of the day, but I’ll bring in the first group of mages for questioning.”

Leandra settled down on one of the desks, smoothing out her notebook and bringing out her recorder. Her cheery attitude didn’t match the gloom that permeated the Circle.

Jaheem took the seat next to Leandra, though he struggled to fit into the desk and hung his legs awkwardly off the side. He felt so uncomfortable after seeing Leandra with Malcolm. Leandra seemed like a completely different person in his presence.

Jaheem looked at his hands. He had only seen Leandra and Malcolm together for a few moments but he was starting to consider that maybe it was time he faced the fact that Leandra would never feel that strongly for him. Perhaps it was better to cut his losses rather than wait for the inevitable breakup to come.

But not here, right before some of the most important interviews of his life.

Jaheem fumbled for a topic as Leandra hummed happily as she doodled hearts in her notebook. Jaheem felt as dark as Leandra was sunny, but he couldn’t bring it in him to take away that smile. It would fade soon enough.

Eventually two mages walked in escorted by Templar-Luietenant Jimenez. One of them was a tall pale balding man with dark hair and beady eyes. Jaheem noticed he had a distinct limp in his left leg. The other was a rather lanky elf with slick black hair and the biggest green eyes Jaheem had ever seen. They shone like emeralds.

The tall man had the paleness of a vampire and slunk up to the front in a rather confidant stroll. The lanky elf shadowed him and seemed more nervous.

Jaheem stood up and offered his hand. “And who am I speaking to?”

The elf took Jaheem’s hand first and shook it eagerly. “Orsino Ward here, and I’m rather eager to speak to you about conditions I’m concerned about in the Circle.” Orsino patted his friend on the shoulder. “This here’s Quentin Jones. He’s decided to come forward about abuses.”

“You convinced me to come forward,” Quentin argued, squaring his shoulders at Jaheem. “I’m still not so sure this is a good idea.” He still had not taken Jaheem’s outstretched hand.

When it was apparent that Quentin was not going to shake Jaheem’s hand, Jaheem took it back and let it hang awkwardly at his side.

Jaheem decided to jump straight to business. He nodded to Leandra and she pressed one the recorder and readied her pom-pom pen.

“So you were there when Malcolm was assaulted?” Jaheem asked.

Quentin snorted. “Who wasn’t?”

Orsino looked down at his hands and Jaheem noticed they were trembling a bit before he clenched them. “It was terrible. Meredith was like a rabid dog on a rampage. I thought she wouldn’t stop until Malcolm was dead. I mean she actually cracked his head open." He gritted his teeth. “I vomited.” Orsino then closed his eyes and turned his head. “Under the old Knight-Captain we at least had the charade of civility. Meredith is killing us one by one and no one cares.”

Leandra’s face was going pale as she transcribed Orsino’s words, her brightness darkening like cloudy storms opening up to the rain.

Jaheem’s eyes narrowed, sensing a lead. “In what way? Can you give me some examples?”

Orsino put up three fingers and counted them off. “Getran Becker. Maverick O’Donnel. Hannah Abbott. All three were tranquilized illegally under the Knight-Captain’s rule.” Orsino’s face scrunched up. “Getran was a runaway but it was his first offense and, for Maker’s sake, he was only sixteen. And I know for a fact that both Maverick and Hannah suffered from food allergies that were overlooked when they were tranquilized for suspected ‘abominations.’ Frankly, Messere, I wasn’t sure what was going to happen if you hadn’t stepped in when you did.”

Jaheem tried to commit those names to memory but he knew that Leandra was already writing them down. He’d subpoena those records and add them to the crimes the Circle committed. “What about your own grievances? Were there any personal incidences that you’d like to state on record?”

Orsino looked down as if he were ashamed. “I’ve been luckier than most. The worst that’s happened to me is a sprained arm and hearing 'knife-ear' flung at me every day.” Orsino gritted his teeth. “I know it’s not exactly the same as what Malcolm went through, but I can cite many more incidents that my students have confided in me as well as incidents that have happened to friends.”

"Any Templar brutality can't be overlooked, Serah. Please tell me about your abuse." Jaheem nodded.

Orsino grimaced. "Like I said it was hardly anything. Meredith just yanked me too hard during a pat down."

Meredith again. This was definitely a pattern with her. Jaheem decided he'd add it to the infractions.

Jaheem asked Orsino about the other incidents. A lot of it was Templar’s being too rough with their charges, breaking an arm here, giving a black eye there, secret beatings that were covered up. Jaheem gathered the names of each of the victims and perpetrators so he could ask them personally later about these incidents.

Orsino also brought up that one of his students, Mea Boldu, was being victimized by a pedophilic Templar named Otto Alrik.

Jaheem shuddered. He knew he shouldn’t be surprised that something like this would happen, but still Orsino had given him plenty of dirty laundry to start with.

Jaheem turned to Quentin who was unusually quiet. “Do you have anything to add, Ser Jones?”

Quentin lifted his robe to show off a gimp hairy leg. “Does this count?” he sneered at Jaheem.

Jaheem felt a little squeamish looking at the leg. It was a little twisted and it definitely didn’t heal right. “What happened to you?”

“Escape attempt,” Quentin said shortly. “The Templars ran me over in their car to stop me.”

Jaheem was a man of strong constitution, but he didn’t anticipate the brutality of Kirkwall’s Templars. They seemed truly ruthless.

“That’s definitely excessive means of force,” Jaheem said, mostly so Leandra would write that down.

Quentin snorted and rolled his eyes, letting his robe fall back. “Good luck arguing that in court.”

Orsino furrowed his thin eyebrows together. “I don’t really have an incident to speak of. Can I still add my name to the civil lawsuit?”

“Your sprained arm is still an incident, Serah," Jaheem pointed out. "Even if it wasn't, you can add your name as a protest for conditions in the Circle. Let others know, too. The more names we have the better.”

Orsino looked relieved at that.

Jaheem wrapped up their interviews rather quickly and soon the two mages went back to class. Jaheem and Leandra were left waiting for the next group.

Jaheem glanced at Leandra and she definitely looked disturbed.

“My Lady?” Jaheem asked quietly.

“My nephew lives with a pedophile,” Leandra’s lip was quivering. Her eyes started to shine and she stared at Jaheem, her voice desperate. “Is this enough to get him fired?”

Jaheem’s lips thinned. “We’ll have to see if Mea is willing to tell us about the abuse, but if the investigation finds evidence, or if Mea confesses, then yes. He will be fired.”

Leandra sagged back in her chair, looking relieved. “Good,” she said sharply, her voice wavering and it sounded thick with tears. “Good.”

Soon three more mages walked into the classroom. One was a brown man with shaggy dark hair holding the hand of a black elf with thick horn rimmed glasses. She had her coily hair in two puffs that reminded Jaheem of rat ears with her tiny head. A tan woman with mousy brown hair and a round face shuffled behind them, looking meek and scared.

When the timid woman saw Jaheem she flinched at the size of him, so Jaheem chose to sit down far away at the teacher’s desk, hoping to give her some sense of ease.

“Hi, Leandra!” the brown man piped up. “Did you visit Malcolm, yet?”

Jaheem blinked, unsure how Leandra even knew these mages.

Her face bloomed red as she glanced at Jaheem. “I did, Charlie.”

“Oh, that’s great. He’s been so grumpy. That’ll really cheer him up.” Charlie didn’t seem to note anyone’s distress, but grabbed the seat next to Leandra and started chatting. “You know he can’t stop talking about you since you visited. He’s practically recovered now. You really saved him, you know that?”

Leandra made a garbled sound and she glanced at Jaheem again. Still he couldn’t help but note the pleased smile tugging at her lips. “Oh, I did no such thing.” She hunched her shoulders, looking like she wanted to hide in her ruffled collar.

Charlie slapped Leandra on the shoulder almost a little too hard. “Are you kidding?" Charlie's face then fell, his bright voice getting quieter. "You should have seen him the first three days. He was in and out of the emergency ward. He was almost declared dead several times." Then Charlie's smile bloomed again. "And then you visit and then he gets better, like by magic.”

The black elf rolled her vivid purple eyes. “That’s because it was magic, Charlie. Remember? I’ve been healing Malcolm for weeks now.” With an annoyed look she put her fingers up as a puppet mouth and started using a comedic deep voice to talk with it. “Oh, Taylor. You’ve been slaving away night after night healing me. The least I can do is thank you.” She then bowed her head to her hand, her little hair puffs bobbing. “Why, yes, Malcolm. You should. It was a pain in the ass. Like you always were.”

Charlie and Leandra shared a chuckle and Jaheem was already feeling left out of the group.

Taylor went to take the seat beside Charlie but Charlie pulled her into his lap chuckling, “Cut him some slack, babe. You know he’s thankful.” He pointed to the ceiling. “He even brought you breakfast this morning.”

Taylor giggled but didn’t fight and settled herself in Charlie’s lap. “Don’t excuse that giant baby just because he’s your best friend.”

Charlie grinned, settling his chin on Taylor’s shoulder as he cuddled her close.

Jaheem cleared his throat, trying to get the mages to focus. He noticed that the mousy woman refused to introduce herself and stayed at the edge of the room, far away from Jaheem as if he’d attack her even though he was now seated.

Jaheem leaned against the teacher’s seat. “So, I know you were all present for Malcolm’s flogging.”

All the mages flinched, an uncomfortable silence shared between them.

“Yes, if you can call it that. A beating more likely,” Taylor said bitterly.

Leandra’s lips thinned again when she heard that.

“I take it you’re close friends of Malcolm,” Jaheem leaned forward onto the desk noticing the papers still needing grading on top of it.

Charlie grinned wryly. “Yeah, probably his only friends, really. The dude’s a real charmer.”

“No kidding,” Taylor agreed with the shake of her head.

Jaheem could believe that after having met the man. He steepled his large hands together. “So, I take it you know what led to the incident.”

Charlie raised an eyebrow. “Malcolm didn’t tell you?”

Jaheem grimaced. “He claimed that he made the original transgression, but Lady Amell was told different.”

“Yeah, cause we told her,” Charlie rolled his eyes and muttered, “Malcolm. What does he think lying will even get him at this point?”

Taylor frowned. “Obviously he’s still scared Isaac might be targeted by our homicidal Knight-Captain. Do you blame him?”

Leandra's face went completely white as she clenched her pen.

Jaheem snapped his fingers to get the lovers' attention again. “So you know what actually happened. Can you tell us?”

Taylor and Charlie looked at each other.

“Well, Isaac was being a boy." Taylor bit her full bottom lip. "You see, it was Matthew’s funeral, and Matthew had always terrorized Isaac and picked on Malcolm whenever possible. So I guess Isaac got in his head somehow to… urinate in Matthew’s ashes.” Taylor looked embarrassed.

Leandra gasped. “Isaac did what?”

Jaheem grimaced. “Lady Amell?” He gently reminded her.

“Sorry.” Leandra blushed and continued writing her notes.

Taylor’s smile was back but it was bitter. “Malcolm took the blame because the Chantry Sister happened to drag Meredith into the problem. I understand why. I don’t even know what she would have done.”

Leandra gasped even louder. “She would flog a child?!”

Jaheem cleared his throat this time and Leandra closed her gaping mouth and put her pen back to the notebook.

Every mage winced.

“It’s only ten lashes,” Charlie’s smile was strained.

Leandra actually whimpered.

“Anyway, I know I had a few floggings as a child 'cause I was a rowdy and obnoxious brat. They’re not supposed to hit you at full strength but…” Charlie gritted his teeth. “Sometimes they do.”

Jaheem could see the tears pricking in Leandra’s eyes before she wiped them away and continued writing.

Jaheem gritted his teeth. As horrifying as child floggings were, the Circle was well within their rights to administer corporal punishment, and so Charlie’s testimony couldn’t be cited for examples of abuse.

Jaheem was starting to see the full picture of the Circle with every sad woe these mages spun. “Meredith’s been named a few times now. Are there any other incidents of brutality you can point out?”

The mages all looked at each other.

“Should we give you a list?” The question almost seemed sarcastic, except Taylor’s tone was completely serious.

Jaheem nodded. “If you happen to remember any approximate dates for these incidents, I’d like to be able to corroborate this with evidence.”

Taylor’s full lips pulled into a satisfied smile. “I can tell you each one. All I have to do is check my diaries.”

Charlie chuckled and kissed her temple. “That’s why I love you, babe.”

Jaheem tried to bite back his grimace. “So are there any incidents you would like to come forward about?”

Taylor’s eyes flickered to Melissa for a moment before she said, “Some Templars made passes at me, but I’ve been lucky. Nothing major has happened.”

Jaheem cocked his head. “You’ve been sexually harassed? Miss Filene, I wouldn’t minimize that.”

Taylor started to stiffen and Charlie gritted his teeth and clenched his fist. “Nothing happened,” Taylor insisted. “It scared me more than anything.”

There was pain in her admission.

“But someone tried to make things happen. If you’re comfortable, can you tell me?” Jaheem asked.

Taylor bit her bottom lip and glanced behind her at her boyfriend. “So for awhile Ser Alrik started hanging out near my bedroom. Always to say goodnight.”

Charlie’s eyes widened in outrage.

Taylor went rigid. “I don’t know if he was trying to scare me, but one night he followed me into my bedroom for an… ‘emergency search.’” Taylor’s eyes started to glaze over and her voice was starting to crack.

Jaheem knew that having her remember was painful, but still there was more to this she wasn’t telling him. “What did he search?”

Taylor was quiet for a bit and finally said, “Me…”

Charlie started to shout, and Taylor turned around and shushed him. “Nothing happened. I swear.”

Jaheem’s eyes were wide, but vindication swelled within him. “Taylor, a Templar invading your private chambers and doing an unprovoked invasive search on your body doesn’t sound like nothing.”

Taylor looked away. “It wasn’t that bad. Others have it worse.”

“It doesn’t need to be worse for it to matter.” Jaheem’s lips thinned. He often heard that from victims of abuse. “You do not need to minimize what you went through to validate others' pain, Miss Filene. You must have been terrified.”

Taylor’s lip began to wobble. “I was…”

Jaheem noticed that Leandra was writing with a clenched hand and jarred expression, as if she was having difficulty processing what was said.

Jaheem sighed. He didn’t want to but he had to ask, “Are there any other incidents anyone would like to come forward about?”

Charlie hunched. “I guess I got mouthy and got my ass beat a few times, but it was so long ago I’m not sure if that counts.”

Jaheem nodded. “It counts. Just give me the names of the Templars who assaulted you, and dates if you can remember.”

Charlie blew his bangs off his forehead with a sigh. “Well, I can give you names but I don’t even remember what day it is today.”

Taylor frowned. “It’s the 30th of Cloudreach, Charlie.”

Charlie shrugged. “You tell me that like I’ll remember.”

Taylor rolled her eyes and looked at Jaheem. “I can help Charlie with the dates.”

Charlie grinned and kissed her temple. “Thanks, babe.”

Jaheem stared at Melissa who had still not come out of the corner. “And you. What’s your name?”

“Melissa Talbert,” she said so quietly Jaheem could barely hear her.

Jaheem tried to make his smile warm and kind. “And did you have something to add, Melissa?”

Melissa’s eyes fell to her feet. “Can I just tell her?” She pointed to Leandra.

Jaheem frowned. “I’m afraid as the lawyer in charge of the case, I have to remain.”

Melissa hunched her shoulders and hugged herself. “Do I have to tell everybody?”

Jaheem shook his head. “No, you can just tell me if that’s all you want.”

“No, I don’t want to be alone with you,” Melissa said quickly.

Jaheem held up his hands in a calming motion. “You can have as many or as few people here as you want. It’s up to you.”

Melissa’s hard brown eyes fell on Charlie.

Taylor took this as a sign and got out of Charlie’s lap and started shoving him out the door. “Okay, you go back to class, now. It’s time for us girls to talk.”

Charlie’s shoulders hunched. “Aww, I’m being singled out.”

“Yup,” Taylor confirmed. “Suck it up. You’re a big man.”

Charlie stuck out his bottom lip in a pout. “You’re cold, babe.”

Taylor chuckled, standing up on her tippy toes to give him a quick peck on his cheek. “And you’re dumb, but I still love you.”

Charlie rubbed his cheek with a grin. “You love me because I’m dumb.”

Taylor rolled her eyes as she shut the door on his face. Then she walked up to Melissa and wrapped her fingers in hers. “It’s ok,” Taylor smiled and squeezed her hand. “I’ll be here the whole time.”

Melissa’s breath stuttered in her chest but she nodded. She still couldn’t meet Jaheem’s eyes.

For a moment the room was silent and Jaheem waited patiently for Melissa to tell her tale. It seemed like it was difficult for her to even summon the words for what happened to her.

Finally Taylor touched Melissa’s shoulder and the girl flinched as if she was trapped in a memory. “Do you want me to tell them?” Taylor asked

Melissa shook her head. “No,” she gasped, suddenly out of breath. “I should be the one to do it.”

Taylor nodded and squeezed her hand again. "Take your time."

So Jaheem waited in silence for Melissa to gather the courage.

Finally Melissa spoke, as quiet as a mouse. “When I was fifteen, Matthew started coming into my room every night.”

Jaheem had to lean forward to hear Melissa.

Melissa's face was fractured. “He started to make me do terrible things… vulgar things…” Melissa’s eyes started to fill with tears as she choked up. “He’d make me take my clothes off and p-put my mouth on him a-and-” Her breath started to stutter and suddenly she was hyperventilating.

Jaheem held up his hand. “I get the picture, Miss Talbert. You don’t have to get into the details.”

Melissa gasped as if Jaheem had stopped strangling her and then she took in a couple heavy deep breaths.

Taylor rubbed her back soothingly. “That’s alright, Melissa. Just breathe.”

Melissa squeezed her eyes shut as she continued her tale, a few tears leaking out. “He’d come almost every night unless he was out on a hunt. I started wishing for other mages to run away so I’d be spared a few days. Maybe even a few months. Isn't that sick?" Her voice warbled. "I thought I’d never be free of him.” But then a smile broke out on her lips that looked deliriously happy. “But now he’s dead. He’s dead. He’s dead and I’m safe.” She repeated it like she needed to confirm it was real.

Taylor nodded along. “That’s right, Melissa. The Maker took care of that.”

Melissa laughed at that, sounding a little manic.

Jaheem’s lips thinned. While Melissa’s story was grave, he couldn’t prosecute a dead Templar. Still, her story would corroborate the pattern of abuse he’d been uncovering.

Jaheem looked at Leandra to find that she was crying. Her face was red and splotchy, sniffling into her handkerchief as she tried to write her notes tear-blinded. Jaheem was thankful he made sure to make her record, though he wasn’t sure if the recorder would have picked up how soft Melissa's voice was.

Jaheem looked at the mages. “Are there any other incidents I should know about?”

Melissa sniffed sharply as a tear dropped off her chin. “You can write down that Trudeau is a murderer, too.” Her voice was finally loud and vindictive. “He killed my best friend in ninth year holding his head in the toilet too long in a ‘prank.’” She spat the word disdainfully. "My friend was fifteen, too. His name was Binh Nguyen."

Jack Trudeau was another dead Templar Jaheem couldn’t convict. Still, if they could find records of the incident, it would help their case.

Jaheem folded his hands together. “Anything else?”

Melissa and Taylor looked at each other and then shook their heads.

Jaheem then nodded. “Then you’re dismissed for now. I will let you know if I have any follow-up questions.”

The girls left the room, hand in hand. Melissa did look lighter as she left.

Leandra though looked like a weight had been put on her shoulders. They were sagging to the sides, her face shell-shocked.

When the girls finally shut the door, Leandra put her face in her hands and sobbed.

“That was horrible." Her shoulders shook. "Maker, how does anyone survive this place?” She was crying so hard she was gasping.

Jaheem didn’t know what else to do. He walked up to her and wrapped her in a hug, folding her face into his chest.

She grabbed onto him and cried raggedly. “We’ll change it, right? We’re going to change it?”

Jaheem patted the back of her head. “We’re going to try, Leandra.”

Jaheem cringed. He knew it was too late to become familiar enough to use her name, but he wanted to. Just once.

Leandra nodded as her shoulders shook and he just held her, indulging in this moment, knowing it wouldn’t last.

And soon enough a black elf with dark stubble and thick snake-like locs came walking in with five mages in tow. His smile was bright until he saw Leandra and Jaheem hugging.

Jaheem and Leandra pulled apart awkwardly.

Leandra turned away and started adjusting her smudged eyeliner.

“Is this a bad time, Messeres?” the elf adjusted his half-circle glasses.

Jaheem straightened up, feeling guilty about having acted so unprofessional. “Not at all. And you are?” Jaheem outstretched his hand.

"Yevros Jakoby. Pleased to meet you." The enchanter shook his hand graciously and then gestured to the other mages. “I brought some of my students who wanted to come forward to join your case.”

Jaheem looked at the small crowd gathering in the classroom and smiled. It was the first day and he already had eleven cases. It was only a matter of time before this lawsuit had enough momentum to make some changes.

Jaheem motioned for everyone to come forward with a big smile. “Come in. Come in. Please, tell me your stories.”

——

Melissa grabbed her stomach as she made her way to dinner. She was so hungry she thought she might faint, but she knew that she couldn’t eat the cafeteria food. It would only burn her mouth and taste like ash.

But still, the temptation to feast anyway was great. Ever since Malcolm had been hurt she had not been able to go on a proper hunt.

The voice inside her told her it was Malcolm’s fault, his fault for bringing the new Knight-Captain down on her head. Once Malcolm had been blamed for everything, then she’d finally have justice. And then the voice inside would finally quiet.

As Melissa turned the corner to the cafeteria she saw Isaac Amell hanging off of Malcolm again, making vrooming truck noises at him. Malcolm was vrooming back just as annoyingly as he leaned on his crutches.

As Melissa saw Isaac she cringed and winced, her mouth salivating as anguishing hunger pains gnawed at her stomach. Isaac smelled so good it hurt to breathe. She needed to feast. She hadn’t eaten a proper meal in weeks and she had already lost so much weight. She was sure the beast in her would only be held back for so long.

Melissa bit her tongue until she bled. The iron tasted delicious.

With Trudeau and Matthew it was revenge. But Jenny was an accident. And so was the pregnant woman in Darktown. And the child playing at the Docks. And the elderly man that was snoozing at the park. They had all just smelled so good that she couldn’t help herself. She needed to know what their guts tasted like. She needed to suck the blood from their veins until they were dried-out juice packets.

She wanted to stop. She was trying to stop. She had even resorted to feasting on cattle and pigs to keep the thirst at bay, but it only drove off the madness. She still felt the hunger. The deep gnawing hunger like she could never fill her guts. She wanted to swallow everything in sight.

Suddenly Arth stalked up to Malcolm with a snarl. “Making trouble like always, Hawke.”

Malcolm rolled his eyes. “You’re the one making trouble, Elliot.”

Arth sniffed. “I just want to know where you think your little lawsuit is going. You don’t actually think this is going to change things, do you?”

Malcolm shrugged as he swung Isaac's hand. “Maybe it will, maybe it won’t. Won’t know if we don’t try, right?”

Arth snarled. “That’s the kind of attitude that’s always dragging us into trouble. Do you even think of how the Templars are going to react to this? You’re riling them up! You're putting targets on all our backs!”

Melissa knew she had come forward, but she only did that for Taylor. She actually agreed with Arth. This lawsuit was going to come back and bite them all in the ass sooner or later.

Malcolm looked like he wanted to say something snarky but instead he just shooed Arth away. “Fuck off, Elliot. I promised my girl I’d be good.”

Arth folded his arms as he rolled his eyes. “Oh yes, we all met your slut. We’re very impressed.”

Then Malcolm snarled like a dog and threw away his crutches and clocked Arth square in the jaw, knocking him flat on his back. Malcolm hunched, looking like he'd collapse again without support of his crutches. He was about to pounce Arth but Isaac’s scream of terror stopped him.

Malcolm shook his fist instead as he glowered at Arth. “I warned you about talking about my girl like that.”

And then Malcolm huffed and started leaning over for his crutches but it seemed like he was having difficulty bending his back. Isaac grabbed them for him, sniffling with shaking shoulders.

Malcolm took the crutches and ruffled Isaac's hair. "Thanks, Lil' Dude," he wheezed.

Isaac nodded and tucked his hand in Malcolm’s and they shoved in front of the cafeteria line, cutting everyone.

Melissa looked at Arth on the ground, and suddenly she was salivating. She could smell the blood on his tongue and it was so, so good.

He would not be as delicious as Isaac, or her other more succulent meals, but Arth was delicious for another reason. He had a vendetta against Malcolm and, should he die, Malcolm might finally get blamed.

Malcolm was supposed to take the fall when Matthew died. She was sure placing the body in Malcolm’s room would cast suspicion, but Malcolm managed to outsmart her.

This time.

The drool started dripping off of Melissa’s tongue as Arth picked himself up off the ground and held his bloody mouth.

She could almost taste him.

She watched Arth, red-faced, return back to his room, foregoing their salty, garlicky dinner. As he passed Melissa, her head followed him.

She licked her lips, an excited purr in the back of her throat as her eyes started to glow red.

And then she followed Arth back to his room and devoured him.

#malcolm/leandra #malcolm hawke #leandra amell #da2 #da fanfic #my writing #I forgot to post to tumblr lol #the break was good for me #back on my malcolm/leandra bullshit

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