He sent Qoth on ahead of him, the raven familiar that normally sat his shoulder whispered too, and then sent towards the capital as he rode along the path to the main palace. He wanted his father to know that he was coming, so if he happened to be in the middle of something, he wouldn't interrupt. A long standing habit, all the way back to his earliest memories in the military. Malachai deserved a warning that his shadow, his blade, was coming home to roost finally. That and he was certain the older man wouldn't appreciate him sending the corpse he had dispatched a few hours back, after seeing the Lady Jolfy's carriage returned to Orlais safely enough.
He left a calinic cat there, in her garden, knowing what he did about the woman, that she'd take to the animal and bring it inside, and Malik made sure the animal knew to come straight to him if something happened. Sure it was a several hundred miles worth run for an animal, but, he was more sure in his animals than he was in people. After all, animals were loyal. People's loyalties changed over time. But animals were simple, effective, loyal to a master that had befriended them and treated them well. It's why the raven now flew towards Minrathous to the palace to herald his arrival, and why said cat would stay with the woman father was calling an asset, but anyone with two eyes could see that the spinster had captured the man's attention for more than just an asset would.
No, Novella's wife was an asset, being held under thumb after the idiot had slipped up and been caught. That had been a nightmare unto itself, making sure the woman had lived through the experience. For what ever reason, they had decided to put her in general population and not allowed her basic comforts, something that he was still smarting over, but Novella had gone to Demetrious over it, and there was certain to be some reform happen in the prison system now. Which lead to his "grandfather" the Archon -- the man was a de-facto head of his family now, due to the fact that both Malik and little Seraphina had been taken in as wards. There was a messed up situation too. But Minrathous was finally in view, and soon he'd be able to give his report, and then see if he could find little Zizi to tell about his trip, the ragdoll his favorite of the Archon's cats. So very loving and loyal, a perfect little companion.
He rode through the city streets, the black stallion doing little to hide his air of "death". Black leathers, black mask, even blackened blade. He was meant to be a shadow, a sanctioned murderer, and so he carried the color about him like a badge of honor. Even occasionally used his magic to dim the lights around him, to give the impression of the blackness of the nothing that waited for those he killed were heading to. That and his love of the dramatic by bringing in the spirits of the dead around him as he completed an assignment. There was a reason why he was feared, after all Malachai had taught him the power behind the theatrical. Handing off his stallion's reigns to a stable hand, he pulled his gloves off, mounting the stairs two at a time to get to the Chancellor to give his report. A sanctioned murder always had to be reported. There was an insatiable amount of paperwork that went into it, and his signature, as the Executioner, was required on the document. His word that he had carried out the death both justly and ethically. Well, as ethically as his honor allowed sometimes. Those that had preyed on children he didn't usually let die a clean death.
But now that he was home, and so close to the office he needed, the curse decided to raise it's head, gripping his insides in an icy grip. Was Seraphine around? Had she just delivered tea to this part of the palace, or was this just another manifestation of the curse that caught him because he had let his guard down for a moment. Neither mattered anymore, as he blindly walked to Malachai's office, not bothering to knock as he backed into the door as he closed and locked it, clawing at the black mask that hid all his features to breathe easier. Except he couldn't breathe, couldn't see, vision blurred as his teeth gnashed on his lower lip, drawing blood that did nothing to ease the maddening hunger that threatened to have him slitting his own throat in an effort to just feel the pain stop. Malachai!
Qoth hopped down off the window sill and flew the few feet over to Malik, hopping around the ground by his master, cawing mournfully to try and catch Malachai's attention. The raven, all the smarter he was, knew what was coming next.
Qoth was preferred company compared with the Archon’s menagerie of felines. Malachai wasn’t sure if it was the eyes or the sleekness of the feathers or the indication that one of his favourite progenies was returning. When he could not be in two places at once, it was only fitting that the executioner filled his seat, a warning to those who stepped out of line that the Eyes were ever watchful; they sent their messenger, Death, to ensure they listened.
The bird reassured him that his junior had been successful in his mission safeguarding their new asset in Orlais. It wasn’t convenient, but gaining her trust took time in building and Mal would have to lay enough foundation that when her relocation did occur, she would be cooperative. Demetrius’s condition and Tevinter’s future depended on a diagnosis, Mal’s reputation be damned.
Qoth took a spot high up on one of the ornate bookcases gifted to him when taking office, offering a single ‘Caw’ when the Chancellor’s current company eventually left the two alone. Good. There was time enough for him to order refreshment in readiness for the lad’s arrival, summoning his lackey outside to have it arranged and brought forthwith. Mal expected the lad to refuse, but as usual it was not up for discussion, nor was it a suggestion. The elvhen doorways may have made the trip easier, but they were a magic few of the Tevene fully trusted, hence their guests had made the trip across Tevinter by carriage or boat until the Eyes and Archon were convinced they didn’t pose some military risk.
While dwelling on risk, Mal pondered over another ward held by the state. His progeny’s little dancer. The last remaining Salvo. From what Malachai understood she had kept her head down, adjusting to a position most noble ladies would envy so close to everything and imminent death should their loyalties be bought by any of the Archon’s enemies. No. She had, from reports, proved to be an exemplary noble servant, despite a few minor mishaps he would discuss with Malik when he arriv-
His door swung open and closed with force, forcing Mal out of his musings with a start. Qoth’s sharp pitched caw and Malik’s distressed snarl had him leaping out of his chair, his hand passed across the free air in an effort to cast a layer of mana draining energy. Malik. His voice sharp, concern filling his face but maintaining a short distance. Breathe. Calm your urge. I’d prefer not to break your nose. T'would spoil those handsome looks and that would be a travesty.... The lady’s would eat me alive.
Malik was thankful that Malachai was always quick, draining off some of the energy that would make him a more feared adversary if things got out of hand. And they were close, oh so close, as he stayed there in that area, fists clenching and unclenching over and over, his eyes wild, looking for an escape route, even if he knew there was no escape. It had been nearly a year since the curse had rocked him like this. Almost a year since the last attack like this.
But he did as he was told. He had a report to give, and his lack of control wasn't an excusable reason to not be telling his father what had happened on the trip to the Orlaisian border. No, it was the banter that finally allowed him to push past the gut clenching pain that surged through his body, the curse firmly aware that he was now back in range of the last Salvo, the curse demanding action, or at least, appeasement, as he twisted into a more comfortable position at the moment. Malik's forehead dotted with sweat as he breathed in through his nose, out through his mouth, like he had been taught nearly a decade ago.
A decade that he had been fighting it, a decade that the curse had tried to get him to either kill the Salvo woman, or the insane want to bite her and have at her blood. A decade that the man in front of him had kept him close, kept him under control. It's make me rather dashing, don't you think? Malik finally dead-panned back. But it was enough to have him be able to focus through the need, to drive to do something stupid.
And it worked, between the magic and his own sheer will alone, he was able to bring it back under control, even with his pulse thundering in his head, with the feel of his heart about to burst from his chest -- he knew what the alternative was -- he could let Malachai end him here and now, or he could fight a little longer. And when it came down to it, he still wanted to fight. He couldn't let the Salvo woman marry and bear children -- it would perpetuate the curse further, and since he was making certain he fathered no children, they wouldn't have the opportunity to end it, they'd forever go on and on maddened with pain and need, and no way to end the torment, but death.
No. They both had to die for it to end, so he couldn't give up today. And little by little he finally brought his heart rate back down, calmed enough that their pulses weren't the only thing he heard, breathed through the pain that had his legs restless, unable to still until they could. Little by little he gained back a simple step closer to control, until his teeth no longer tore his lower lip to shreds, until his eyes no longer looked like a caged animal caught inside a human frame. The change was slow, over a few seconds, going from absolute wreck, to absolute stillness. His features went back into a resting frown, the lines around his eyes eased, his brow smoothed back out, his gaze was one again focused and those fists that had been so tight finally unfurled, and he rose up to his feet.
I'm sure those ladies would also be quite upset when they found out that I have little interest in them. He paused, before using his thumb to move damp hair off his forehead, further setting himself right after almost losing himself into the curse. Was Seraphine feeling the same desperation? Mission successful, the asset delivered back to the Orlaisian border and handed off to her new shadow. A calinic that had been skulking about lately and didn't feel would be a good addition to the colony already in residence here.
There were other Eyes of course, human ones that would be there to watch as well, but he trusted that damn cat more than he did any of the human Eyes that would be set about. The execution was carried out with little fan fare. The body was left in place to be found later. I may have set his head in his lap. He gave a small shrug, and smirk at that. It had been an easy execution, he had used the dark and the shadows to his advantage and his blade had been true. Clean.
Controlling the drain, Mal’s fingers drummed pinkie to index in a repeating pattern. They paused in places as his junior’s curse fought against the flow like the caged beast it was. While his senior and far more seasoned in battle, Mal would normally feel confident in besting him on an even playing field but Malachai was on the backfoot, his injuries gained through years of serving would have him eventually fall to Malik’s blade. The curl of a grin began to form under the mask as Malik slowly began to regain himself and Mal paused his ministrations, laughing as the lad muttered a joke indifferently.
Ha! I do suppose a scar or two are compelling things to woo the ladies, he’d done it himself on numerous occasions when the need arose but, Facial injuries dealt by a friend are usually a last resort. A bludgeoned nose might ruin your chances with one of those vapid vultures. Mercifully being a bastard had negated many from himself, but his position had only singled him out to the would-be climbers bold enough to try.
Gasping, Mal feigned a look of horror. And then again, if you do Marry, who am I then to nag at constantly. Novelle has already abandoned me, but at the behest of her so-called family, you. You have the unusual position of being able to choose. Scoffing and turning dramatically on his heel, the spymaster let the spell fade into the background to head back to his desk. The lad had regained himself enough to warrant the reprieve.
Pausing mid-turn to the new of Jolfy, Mal nodded approvingly. Good. We have few leads to work on in finding any sort of treatment that could help Demetrius. If Tevinter is to remain strong, our leader needs to be in his right mind, not flitting off during a crisis. She was now part of any future plans now, attention to her wellbeing and security was in order, potential threats needed to be identified and Malachi did not wholly trust the rest of his people, especially with recent events. I will need to commute between business here and in Orlais. While I trust you to safeguard her completely, as an academic she will benefit from a more experienced hand. And from what you’ve already said, you’re not interested in the ladies.
As for the other matter, Mal’s brows bobbed, seeming indifferent to however the junior presented his trophy. Sucking his dick too, I hope? It’s no less than he deserved.
Novella did as she was bade, and that's brought me no end to the headaches. Annie is doing well, by the way. You should go see her soon, it's always delightful to see the fear pass over the Tilani woman's face when I hold my niece. Besides, if I choose someone it will be to make a political alliance for our family. Not for love. That's a trap I will not take part of. The spell fading away and the return of mana to him started to ease the pain that still clenched his chest tightly, that held his guts in a vice like hold. The ease came with control, and he had control. He would always have control when it came to keeping this little.. messed up family safe.
Do you want me to see to it that another invitation is sent to invite her back to the University. With Novella's spouse throwing money at her, it wouldn't be difficult to arrange a schedule of her being here, or you being there. As you say, my inexperience when it comes to the ladies would be a detriment in this case, where your more experienced hand would be a blessing. He couldn't help the small smirk at the corner of his mouth as he finally relaxed into a more fitting stance. He had control now. It was all about control, and with every passing moment, he had more of it.
But as soon as he could, he would need to go hunt down Seraphine and make sure that what ever it was that caused his lapse, wasn't a direct result of the woman doing somethingstupid. He never could tell with that one. Interested yes, stupid enough to risk breaking a vow with one, never. He chuckled as he put a hand on the back of the seat by the desk, not sitting. Mal was still standing, Malik knew better than to sit before his Father had sat. It would be like sitting before the Archon sat. It just wasn't done.
With his tongue pulled through a slit in the remainder of the neck like a little bow to top it off, and tilted in such a way that as rigor mortis and natural swelling started they'd have to break the jaw and remove the bone to get the head free. As far as examples went, it was one of Malik's favorites. After all, having to cut off a lower jaw to remove the head from a swollen penis to have a funeral before decomposition set it was always a way to shame an entire family. Beheading was one thing, but having a dead loved one's mouth closed around their own manhood, there was one of two choices. Cut the manhood and bury or burn the body with full knowledge that the deceased was going to the afterlife sucking their own dick for eternity, or desecrate the body to remove said anatomy, and then there was the questions of why the jaw was so misshapened during the funeral. It was all about humiliation for both the dead and the living.
But he had another thing on his mind this evening as well. I'll take care of the signatures later of course. And will head out on my next assignment two days from now. I wish to be here in the Palace tomorrow, it's... He wasn't a sentimental man, by any stretch of the imagination. A particular date, and I'd like to stay around in case it sets off some.. unwanted behaviors in either myself or the Salvo woman.
Of course she’s doing well, her mother was practically raised by me. Excellence naturally follows excellence. Of course he negated biology entirely. Being of the same blood had never meant ‘family’ to Mal, his own father had ignored him for the majority of his existence, only giving a damn when the fool was on his deathbed. Perhaps that's why he had made the stupid vow, not to sow any further Valentius seeds. The cruel indifference of their house could die with him.
Love? Ha. I’m afraid that trap is not one anyone can see coming. Before you even realise it you’ve suddenly grown soft, amenable. My advice, invest in a good Mind mage. his hand made a sweet across his brow, lips pursed through the fabric of his mask to whistle a sound, just wipe that particular memory out of there. It wasn’t a real solution, his tone indicating he was jesting because that train of thought was the path to madness and the lad had enough of that to deal with.
Mal paused on his round back to his chair, liking the idea of sending the scholar an open invitation to the university. Since she’s just returned, let us visit her for the follow up. I can present the invitation in person… let one of the researchers write her some questions, I know they’ve been dying to get their hands on her raw data, but we can’t seem too keen so early. He stared at his junior, and noting his smirk, Mal straightened, his gaze suddenly immeasurable, Experience, tact and the most suitable considering the lady and I’s already established rapport.
Shaking his head, Mal adjusted his robes, pulling them behind to settle into his chair. His hand gestured for Malik to join him even as the Chancellor rolled eyes at the lad's comment. The villain in him chimed in that vows were fun to break, but he spared them both from the comment, leaning back to listen as the executioner described the scene left behind. What better way to get the point across than having the family deal with such a disgraceful scene and funeral. The tongues would be wagging for days and provide the Eyes listening a wealth of opportunity.
With such gruesome talk it was then curious that the lad suddenly hesitated, catching Malachai’s attention immediately, observing him closely. A slow blink and his gaze trailed off, staring at nothing in particular while he thought. Ah. Yes. There have been.. two minor incidents. Nothing like your portion of the curse, mind you, but signs that hers appears to be awakening have begun. It seems the barrier not only kept us safe from those outside our borders, but nullified the curse's infliction, at least for her..
These younglings. Perhaps it would have been kinder to put them to the sword back then, but then Malachai had always been a bit soft on tragedy.
Malachai offered an interesting solution. He could, potentially, contact a mind mage and have the memory of Seraphine, of that night, wiped from his mind. Paid company is always the better arrangement, I have found. I told Novella as much, it allows that base need to be.. scratched, and leaves the affairs of the heart to those who can be afforded such. It wasn't something their family should, or could have. They had too much investment into the Realm to be taken down by something as silly as love. He could very much read between the words that Malachai said, a brow raised, waiting for his father to sit, before finally taking a seat himself.
After all, the man was his father in all ways but blood -- even if there were only 14 years between them, the older man had taught him everything about the type of man he himself needed to be. There wasn't just a duty to house, there was a duty to one another, and then of course the realm. It just so happened that Malik had no loyalty to his own name any longer. Novella's careful play in his brain, over a decade ago, had assured that the Vrai name meant nothing to Malik -- only their family remained. Very well, I'll make sure that the botanist has a proper list ready this time, more in line to the lady's actual intelligence. I don't wager that I'll have to remind them again that assuming her level of education was a nearly fatal mistake that should not be repeated. He had beaten that into the scientist personally after their first draft of "questions" had been submitted.
Now that they had a taste of the research though, they had straightened up their tune and paid attention. It was something Malik had enjoyed, seeing old men being corrected by a woman. It always gave him a bit of satisfaction.
I'll take responsibility for her behavior the next few days. The barrier does seem to have kept her under control, so it's better if I keep an eye on her during the next little bit. If needs be, I'll finish what I started, all those years ago. When she had been a child, that he refused to kill. Too much of him wanted to raise a child, to mold someone properly for the world, for him to slaughter a child, even then. And it wasn't like he hadn't just been a child himself at that point -- slaughtering his own blood to protect a child. With it's fall, I do not feel any different, the curse itself is still there, in the background, waiting, as if it's biding it's time for the proper moment to try and make itself known. Proximity to her always brings it either under control, or out of control. It's maddening, because while the barrier was up, I had it figured out to a science. Now.. Now, everything was turned back on it's head. And it didn't help that every single bit of that curse screamed at him to take Seraphine, throw her over his shoulder, and take her somewhere quiet and alone to slowly ravage her mind, body, and spirit before finally draining her body of it's life's blood. It was like he was a teenager again with no control, and he hated every single minute of it.
If either she or I create an incident, I will take care of it. And then I will follow the protocol to turn into the smallest animal I can manage to be slaughtered. I will not have either of us be a danger to the Realm.
Malik. There will come a day when you will need to stop reading from the Hymnbook of Tragedy. Maybe I should reassign you for a time, enjoy some time around the living for a while. It wasn’t a threat either, Malachai would make it happen because despite what had occurred during the ball he knew he couldn’t overwork the lad, not when the girl had started acting out. Babysitting the other ward shouldn’t be too taxing, surely, he’d plot silently giving away nothing of his suspicions. Time would tell if his hunch bore fruit or not.
Maybe he would be invited to another wedding? The proud guardian of another successful heir for Tevinter’s glory? These unions were precarious with a suitable match on a good day, let alone matching a pair that got along or even developed attachment to one another. The latter was a rare occurrence, most houses vied between bloodlines and power, love and mundane things like affection were often shoved aside.
Good. I’d rather not embarrass her intelligence and damage any progress I’ve already achieved in gaining her trust. Enough needs to be established before relocating her here for an extended period. It needs to go as smoothly as possible. It also gave their failing standards to catch up, digest five years of missed time due to the protective barrier. Time is of the essence, but we can’t afford to be careless. We need to trust her as well as the other way around if answers are to be found and the old man ceases slipping into confusion. If he had an enjoyable time conquesting a foreign asset then all the better. It had been ages since anyone had piqued his particular appetite.
And while musing over his choice of appetiser, the boy across from him galiantly offered himself to guard against a repeat of the Salvo estate. Mal’s brow arch, feigning curious interest. Will you now? Are you a judge? The Jury? No. You are not. If her curse rears itself in such a way you will subdue her and she will be tried. She is not your ward, Malik. The Chancellor stared at him seriously, his order on that aspect of the matter final.
She fainted, twice in a month. The second occasion rendered her imobile for a time after she awoke. Mal shrugged, having no explanation for it, the curse was not a sure thing manifesting differently in each of the afflicted. In trying to create perfection the pair of houses had bred chaos for their descendants. Mal watched on, observing his junior divulge his struggle with a sympathetic nod. I know that, and I commend your loyalty to the realm in willingly sacrificing yourself, but we still have time before that is even an option. There must be a secret to you both coexisting, perhaps the key to it is with her and you merely have to find the right way of unlocking it. He’s snicker under his breath a little, that would mean spending time with her, attempting to break through enemy lines.
He's getting worse, isn't he? Malik asked, quietly, as he watched Mal worry. There were plans upon plans already set in motion, but the past few years the decline had become more and more apparent to him, but he knew that was because proximity -- anyone outside would not know, but it wouldn't be long until it would start to sew the seeds of doubt in palace staff and others. How many had already been "vanished" for the sake of state secrets? How many had he himself had a hand in without knowing. Not that it would change anything for him.
Malachai wielded him as a tool, and until such time that the curse took all reason from him, he would remain that tool. He shifted in the chair as Malachai questioned, but he knew it was more to broker no more talk of murdering the Salvo heir. Because it would be murder -- it would not be a sanctioned kill, he would be going against orders, and everything he had sworn since Malachai had taken him in like his own.
When Novella had wove her magic through his head -- unknowing that he had long since written his own blood off, the inner turmoil of the house and back stabbing, vying for power had left none but he as a full blooded Vrai. He wanted to flip back that he was the executioner. But ... co-existing, and without fail, his face immediately showed his opinion on that. The woman thought he had murdered her entire family for no reason, not that they were going to willingly sacrifice her the night he murdered his own father.
Such a twisted web, and he only had four years to unravel it, to solve it, otherwise he would end up a mindless beast, just like his father had become that night. To close to the change, the scent of the girl's blood had ensured the cease of his loving father, and brought about the instinct driven monster that only existed to feed and to fuck. And for what? A perfect Archon candidate. Two minor houses that had dreamed above their station for far too many generations, to fade into obscurity. You could send me on a million other missions than try to befriend the Salvo woman and I would throw myself into them wholly. If this is what you want, it will need to be an order, Malachai, without it, he trailed off, shaking his head, looking for the right words. Without it being ordered I'm afraid I would fail you.
Malachai stiffed at the quiet truth, only offering a silent nod. You’ll see for yourself soon enough. The requirement of seeking an audience was not up for discussion, nor would the Chancellor expect the lad to avoid Demetrius. Ultimately, it had been his kindness that had saved them both, providing a safer haven than most orphans though equally exposing them to the gossips. Though the feud had gone on for ages and it was an open secret that the Vrai had butchered the entire house but one. Yet no one really knew of the truth of that night and Malik was not always so easily forthcoming on the details.
She was a child then, her view of you is skewed and misguided. Or am I going to have to explain it to her myself? That you saved her at your own cost, because I will, Malik. Stubborn boy. His pride would be his undoing before the Curse had its chance at this rate. Malachai, for all his involvement in secrecy, felt this overly complicated than keeping her in the dark. Is she even aware of the Curse? Because frankly, from all accounts she understands nothing of what choices her House made.
Mal shot him a scalding look, hand reaching for a book to throw, aiming for the lad's head. An order is it? Don’t make me laugh. You’ll be seeking her out after this meeting and don’t you deny it. Just within enough distance, like I fucking taught you. He could try and bullshit a bullshitter but Mal had years of practice on him.
Arvina would be fine, there was hope for him, and in the mean time, he would keep guard of the man until his last breath left him. Maybe even after, if he was stubborn enough, if there was a necromancer as talented as him to keep him upright and loyal. That was a thought -- he only had to die to be free of the curse, yes? Maybe he should just wind up dead and then he could be brought back to continue on. An unholy amalgamation of his loyalty and stubbornness in a body that in all honesty, would probably decay faster than he'd stop being stubborn. Either way, he would stubbornly keep on believing that the Archon would be fine.
I'll tell her eventually. It's not her fault what happened, I'd rather not burden her with that truth before absolutely needed. It was a heavy truth, after all. What he had done to save her as a child. What he had lost. But, he would keep it to himself for a bit longer. He had a plan after all, of ridding himself of that truth once and for all. Hopefully. I'm not even sure her family told her anything. That night.. in my memory, it looked like they were throwing her a name day party, dressed her in white.. to be sacrificed. Who does that to a child.. He knew, the Salvo did. He knew, deep down, that his own family had probably done just as bad in the past.
He dodged, the moment he knew a book might be heading his way, letting the volume smack into the floor behind him, as he sat back upright properly, brow raised. There were times, in which Malachai was his father, but in times like these, the relationship was more akin to that of an older brother and younger one. Technically he was old enough to have fathered him, Malik's own father had been just over sixteen when he married and bedded his mother. They had been young to secure and raise an heir to age before the curse took their wits. Another reason why Malik had decided on no children at eighteen -- they were all still children when all hell had been dumped on them to handle. I did learn from the best, after all. I do have the added benefit of being able to follow as a little black house cat. It did allow him to freedom to move as he saw fit.
Malachai wished he shared the lads' confidence in regards to Demetrius. The flits of fancy were becoming more frequent and demanding of Malachai’s time considering Deme trusted him most. He felt himself being stretched too thinly hence his own trusted circle closing ranks and returning to the capital.
That might come sooner than you’d like. I suggest you prepare her for the inevitable, preferable before she does something she will later regret. They needn’t further traumatise her if it could be avoided. Mal pondered over sequestering them both and confining them to an apartment in the estate, but felt it too rash for the moment, deciding to place trust in Malik’s judgement. For now anyways.
Yes, it was set up like a celebration. Might have been a hoot too, excusing the very obvious altar where the cake was. He hadn’t been able to shake that jarring image since coming across it when the Eyes raided.
The book flew, missed, but with a flick of Mal’s wrist came back to whack his stoic noggin’ on the way back to Malachai’s waiting hand. The Chancellor snickered, all too pleased with himself as he leaned back into his chair and tossed his makeshift weapon onto the desk. Brows rose in feigned shock, a hand came to his chest while another pointed at the executioner. Was that admission? Maker, he does like the girl, glancing to Qoth, who cawed in agreement.
Stalker, but word from the wise. Don’t slip up and let her catch you in the act.
Malik hadn't expected the whip like effect of the book and felt it thunk into his head before returning to the older man's hand, his own hand raising and rubbing against the smarting welt that was raising from where the volume had chose to make itself known. What you mistake as affection or attraction is simply making sure that the Archon's charge remains safe, nothing more. It didn't help that the raven hopped on the sill, his call a close mimicry of a laugh, something the bird had picked up over mind. Malik was about to point out that it probably wasn't the best to rile him after so close to an "almost" attack -- he had kept it together the entire time, even if it had taken him several minutes to reign the beast back in.
But that word, stalker, with such emphasis, and the implication that he would follow the woman around without good cause -- he knew it was in jest, but his face none-the-less made his feelings known as he snorted, thumb and forefinger at the corners of his mouth, meeting together in the middle of his lip, squeezing the bit of flesh together -- a habit that he had to try and self-soothe when he had been pushed just past the point of being a friendly ribbing. The younger man sighed and then shook his head. He always transformed far away from anywhere Seraphine would be around at a given time, and she was rather fond of the black cat she had dubbed 'Spook' a long time ago.
He would do his best not to ever let her know -- or at least keep his secret until it wasn't his to keep anymore. They only had a small amount of time left, so it might not even be an issue in a few years. I'm rather sure that if I do, she'll kill me before I realize it. She's getting better with the blade.
He’d hoped a clip to the noggin’ might render some semblance of sense but the lads' retort to Malachai’s pointed jab caused the Chancellor to roll his eyes. Watching him pout, steer his emotions into an exasperated sigh eased Malachai back into a sobering mood. The signs were all too obvious to one who had wrestled, still wrestled, with the darker parts of himself so Mal offered him a reprieve, shifting focus back on the girl.
Oh? And replace you as my left hand? Ella would be pleased to have a new sister… he’d chuckle quietly. Improving, she might be, but against your experience and confidence with magic? Doubtful she’d be able to, he’d pause deliberately, smirk flashing wickedly, finish you off. At least not in the way you’d both enjoy. Still, jokes and teasing aside, Malachai was grateful that the lad had returned, the continued denial of his attraction aside. In all this mess, there were those deserving of a little matchmaking, these two touch starved individuals were top of the list.
A knock came to the door, signalling the arrival of Mal’s next appointment. A moment, was snapped towards them in the following seconds of its tapping. Drawing out a ledger from a drawer he’d toss it back onto the fine desk top, head shaking with disdain at the brief intermission between meetings drawing to an end. Admission, praise and one's mortality around her, all wrapped up in one sentence. I won’t twist your arm for more, but don’t try to deny to me that there is no warmth, even if currently one sided, there. Shaking his head, the two would move towards the door, the younger departing soon after, but not before Mal chimed in one final tease.
