He'd been… distracted of late. Numerous reports came in and out, giving snippets of the goings on, what people tried to hide from the Eyes yet Malachai had fallen a little behind since the ball. Unlike him. Out of character for someone usually so sharply focused on ensuring orders and the rule of law were upheld. It had affected his temper, shortening it enough to take a rare walk among Minrathous’s rooftops.
He could observe and watch as life carried on beneath, see for himself what good the work did in creating stability, the good of it despite its pure ruthlessness in protecting it. Finding one of his favourite perches, he’d round the familiar viewing point void of bodies. No-one liked making the twisted journey unless they knew the shortcut. Mal crouched between two posts of the guardrail, the connecting stone long broken and weathered into the perfect nook to sit and watch the world go by. He’d pick up a handful of sand, playing it between his hands like an hourglass in thought. Afterwards, the grains dropped over the ledge in a slow stream, catching the wind at first before gravity pulled them under.
Orlais was crumbling, Antiva had a Boy for a King, Rivain and Nevarra were sheats to the wind, no-one cared about the Dog Lords of Ferelden and Arlathan… well, that was yet to be explored given every attempt had been so far rebutted by the Forest. Mal wasn’t sure the elves would even entertain their request, Tevinter had long used their people to press their efforts forward, sacrificing others instead of their own for often mute ends. He would need an ‘in’ or he’d be working a shortlist of potential spies if he had to.
Sinking to rest against one post, Mal watched quietly while his mind drifted between duty and… well, an image that hadn’t quite left his mind since the ball. Maybe he was due for a dalliance at the whorehouse… perhaps not, unwilling to cheapen his meal by bedding a whore when the time finally came. Not that he visited many whores, the few Mal entertained had strict instructions and understood that it wasn't just their tongues at stake if they breathed a word of him.
The scent, immediately one Mal was intimately familiar with, came waltzing along the breeze. A frown pulled underneath the mask, irritated that he’d been disturbed. If he curtly acknowledged her would that be enough to leave him be? Unlikely, but throwing her from this height wouldn't look accidental. Pity.
Did you climb this place knowing you’d find me, or in the hope of finding me, Mazikeen?
Mazikeen, hunched over her teacup and saucer, glanced up at her mother. She'd not even lowered the book she was reading. Mazzy didn't answer, and Priscilla didn't seem to notice. The drawing room fell back into silence and Mazzy turned her cup again. Nothing. The dregs were just... a mass at the bottom of the cup.
"I think I'll go for a walk." she said, standing and moving toward the door.
"Lovely, darling. Some fresh air..." her mother mumbled after her.
Stranger and stranger. As the sun marched from morning to noon, Mazzy could sense... nothing. She'd watched the clouds, the flights of birds; her pendulum crystal felt useless. Even the rooster's pecking in the yard told her nothing. Even on the most mundane of days she would feel her gift whisper little secrets, however inconsequential. But today... nothing. By late afternoon, she was practically at her wits end. So, as she always did when feeling stuck, she took a carriage into the city to visit Auntie Leonora.
~*~*~*~*~*~
While Leonora was a wealth of knowledge, as she shared a strong connection to divination magic like Mazzy, she was too real a reminder of what her own future might look like. Leonora was a recluse. Agoraphobic to the extreme, she'd not even peeked out the windows of the Felinus townhouse in decades. Lucillius had never found a man who'd take her, and so the top floor of the townhouse had become her spinster refuge. Some of Minranthous' older noble women still called on her from time to time for a reading. But Mazzy was her only regular guest.
What sort of mess is this, child?" Leonora said by way of greeting as Mazzy was shown into Leonora's sitting room. "Your aura keeps shifting. Sit down, sit down. It's dizzying."
Several hours later, Leonora was snoring on her chaise lounge as Mazzy shuffled and reshuffled an old deck of tarot cards. Huffing out an exasperated sigh, she focused on clearing her mind. She'd spent the day trying to force the cosmos to explain itself. Perhaps she just needed to listen. With closed eyes, she laid out three cards, then opened her eyes as she set the deck aside. She'd assigned no meaning to the placements. No past, present, and future. No love, money, and home. Just pure, unfiltered truth.
She turned over the first card. The four of cups."Stasis." she murmured. Then, the next card. The nine of swords."Anxiety.". She turned over the third card and her breath caught in her throat. The Chariot.
~*~*~*~*~*~
"Hope is well and good for some, my love. But you know me better than that."
She'd known just where to find him. This secret place of his, away from all others. Of course he would come here when he needed her. She only regretted not realizing sooner what the cosmos was trying to tell her. She hadn't been able to read anything that day because she had not been the one in need. She'd been too far from him, for too long. But fate led her to where she needed to be, at precisely the right time. Indeed, was the rooftop window in Leonora's attic not right on the secret path to this spot?
Mazzy picked her way toward him carefully. He'd brought her here before, but she was still fearful of the height. "Won't you take that off?" she asked, holding onto him as she settled herself down at his side. "I'm here now. You needn't hide."
It had been his mistake to bring her here in the past, but then her gift had a way of catching him off guard. She was unlike the others who he navigated with ease, Mal usually held all the cards, knew their secrets before they did. Yet he could never quite catch all of Maze’s cards. He’d been intrigued by her for a spell, scratching an itch without committing, lying as usual to suit his needs. And then he’d grown bored. The Eyes became more than duty and serving Demetrius more important than fueling her irritating infatuation with him.
He’d scoff but nod slowly at her words, it was neither encouraging or dismissive. You shouldn’t come to the edge if you fear the fall. Gaze remaining on the streets below, Mal’s other senses tracked her inevitable movements, head instantly tilting to the other side when she reached for the mask.
You know the rules, Mazikeen. Brows furrowed in disapproval, no pet name fell to sound home the reminder of his position and her place. After a deep breath he righted, glancing over to her. What did your cards say, I wonder? That I was in distress? another scoff, the fall of the barrier has created many an issue…. Yet… we are fortunate the South is so weak our position is actually favourable. He’d laugh a little, though it lacked any real amusement it did settle his shoulders, leaning back on his hands.
Remind your Kin to resist making fools of themselves. That Princess from Antiva is more interesting than she appears. Turning, Mal regarded her seriously. Your Father is lucky she decided against scrambling his mind and Lord Pavus intervening. She was quite adept at helping interrogate the shapeshifter. I didn’t even get a look in. It had irked him, but then his compensation had been a frustratingly enjoyable snuggle with the innocent Orlesian botanist. Mal let out a low disgruntled sigh.
She smiled at his words of warning. Fear the fall? Of course she feared such a fate. But she trusted him far more than she feared the fall. He'd keep her safe. Always had... always would. When he tilted away from her, rebuffing her request and using her full name to drive the point home, her smile shifted to mock seriousness. Brows furrowed together and downward as her lips formed a puckered frown.
"You make the rules, Malachai." she said, deepening her voice to mimic his. But her smile quickly returned when he shifted to what had called her to him. It pleased her that he too could feel the way fate pulled them together. Knowing it was the cards, sharing what they had suggested. She didn't even need to prime him, so solidly linked as they were.
"Problems, opportunity, the path as yet unseen. The chariot spins its wheels..." she sighed, and leaned closer to him as he leaned back with his arms out slightly to welcome her to his side. She glanced up at the sky, content that he was confiding in her. Even his rebuke of her father's behavior at the Archon's ball warmed her heart. He trusted her with his worldly concerns, and worried for her and her family's reputation. Still, she gave his words a slight chuckle.
"She'd have been a fool to do such a thing. And daddy has always been a harmless flirt. Everyone knows it. Lord Pavus is even worse. She's in more danger with him, if you ask me."
Hearing his sigh, she turned. While the mask might hide some of his emotions, it left the most expressive parts of his face exposed. Silly little thing, honestly. Her own expression softened at his words and she put a hand out to trace a finger along his hairline. "Then let us be silent, my love. I will comfort you while you solve all the woes of the world." She leaned in to plant a light kiss at his temple, then settled her head on his shoulder. It was exactly where she belonged.
Mal resisted the urge to roll his eyes with her mimicry. The Senate and the Archon create laws, I merely enforce them. Remind the sheep to keep in line else we become the faulting wasteland that is Orlais right now. Only fools chase Godhood. Everyone was abuzz with the recent ball and influx of visitors, the gossips hadn’t had this much to wag about in years given the barrier. Tevinter’s position, though out of touch currently, appeared the most favourable and stable among its various neighbours.
While he humoured those gifts of premonition, Mal never placed too much faith in their veiled gleaning of the possible future. A life in shadows had taught him that the perfect set of circumstances inevitably had an unaccounted variable. His head shook slightly, gaze momentarily drifting to the new pressure against his side and back to the streets bustling below. Vague. Annoyingly so, but as expected. Tangible proof always trumped the mystics.
She also has inherited her Father’s intellect, as well as her Mother’s ruthlessness. It was, how did he tactfully put it, foolish of him to impose on her. And though he’d refrained from humiliating her paternal figure, he chose not to let the jab at Pavus go uncontested. Behind the mask, a smirk began to emerge. Don’t tell me you’re still hung up on Dorian’s lack of interest in you? Admittedly there was a time when he was primed to be Tevinter’s golden boy, the most eligible and wellbred candidate for the vying harpies. I’m afraid Enzo’s not responsible for his cousin’s lack of… appetite for the fairer sex.
Still, teasing her only did so much to ease the tension and weighing thoughts. Mal’s brow quickly furrowed again, though he allowed the touch, the trace of skin to skin pulling a deep sigh out from his chest. Her comforting peck, gentle and fleeting, it was like a drop of warmth on a cold day. For a moment, it seemed to hold the worlds woes at bay, but the relief was short-lived, slipping away as quickly. He watched her out of the corner of his eye, noticing every way she tried to bridge the distance. Such ‘in vain’ efforts. The gap could close physically, but Mal would never return her depth of feeling, nor allow her into his coveted inner circle. And yet… she was a pleasant, available distraction.
Turning his head, Mal’s voice lowered, Silence doesn’t suit you though…
He dismissed his own influence on the machinations of the Imperium as easily as he dismissed her connection to the mystical truths. Always a pessimist, but also always a planner. Negative though his gaze could be, she knew it belied a more hopeful heart. He wanted power and the security it brought. Security for him, for her. For them. So she did not argue the point and allowed him to think as he would.
"Pah!" she rolled her head back at the mention of Dorian, shaking her fiery hair in an easy dismissal. "A child's crush. I know so much better now." she said, bumping against his side slightly. And it had been just that, a crush. she and every other girl across the Imperium held secret hopes of catching the eye of the promising young Pavus heir. She'd confided that truth to Malachai not long after their first meeting to show how she'd once been naive, but no longer. What need did she have for such silly fantasies after meeting him? Malachai still liked to tease her about it, as was his way. She suspected he liked the way it could make her blush.
She could feel, nestled against him, that her presence was indeed calming him. He sat less rigidly. His breathing had slowed. She could feel his gaze upon her and she smiled to herself. So rarely would he allow himself to be still, to be cared for. His resistance was somewhat understandable. Mazzy knew he'd not had the easiest life. Love, the true kind that she offered him, was a foreign concept. But she knew that, with time, he'd learn to trust in it and in her.
"Silence doesn’t suit you though…"
Mazzy felt an electric thrill run down her spine, sending a rush of warmth to her neck and cheeks. Oh, but he did know just what to say, didn't he? Giggling, she turned to nuzzle her nose into his neck. She breathed deep, reveling in the scent of him. "You know me too well, love." she said, giving him another gentle kiss just below his ear. "How to make me laugh... she kissed again. "How to make me sigh..." she leaned back slightly, catching his eyes with her own. Then tilted her head just so, leaving the path to his favorite place on her own neck clear.
Even now, years later, witnessing her vain attempts to woo poor Dorian brought no end of amusement. Some might have believed it a cruel joke, that neither himself or Enzo had quietly revealed the truth, but Mal thought it miniscule to the pranks he had endured. The Game between houses wasn’t to be trifled with and she learned quickly when realising her childish infatuation was fruitless.
How lucky for Dorian….
Still, why pass on a willing being so eager to please him? The nuzzling stroked his ego and Pride far too easily and when she offered her own neck in return he was but weak enough run the tip of his nose down the line of bare skin. A rumbled hum of approval was all he’d say verbally while an arm moved around behind her with the other pulled her around to sit, straddling his lap. His hold behind ensured her safety… or did it.
Tipping them a little forward, Mal had her hover above the edge. I make you do nothing that you don’t freely enjoy yourself and more, no? His head shook slightly, Maze, Maze, Maze. Tut tut., a cruel gleam in his eye flashing briefly before he shuffled them back safely from the edge. A hand left her back, fingers curling into the clasps of her cloak, tugging and curling the extra fabric into his grip. Leashed, but she was easy prey to begin with.
Safe from being cast over, Mal’s remaining hand at her back began slowly stroking it’s way down her waist to her thigh.
The real question is, do I make you scream here, or elsewhere… and I’m not shy of the outdoors.
