Fic: Hopelessly Stupid
"Drabble" for rhiannon87 . I use the word drabble loosely here, because it got a bit away from me.
Ser Carver, Malcolm, with mentions of Leandra. I'm still trying to make some sense of the two somewhat conflicting stories we have about Malcolm. *sigh*
Also, do we know when Meredith became Knight Commander?
“You know that, one of these days, I’m going to have to actually arrest you,” Carver tells him. As always, Malcolm seems not to take his words seriously.
“Yes, well that day will be full of exciting chases around Kirkwall, and possibly several cabbage carts being overturned,” he says with the air of someone who doesn’t have a thing to worry about, which, in turn, makes Carver scowl.
“I’m being serious, you ass.” And, really, he is. One of these days, one of them is going to slip up in some major way, and the Knight Commander is going to realize just where their missing enchanter has gotten to. Either that, or the new Knight Captain will, and Carver has to say that Meredith is a good deal craftier then the last Knight Captain. “The Red Irons and myself can only protect you for so long, and it will be even less if you keep doing stupid things like this.”
The look on Malcolm’s face falls into the ‘false hurt’ category. Luckily, Carver is rather immune to any and all looks that Malcolm can give him.
“Going to see the love of my life is not stupid,” he declares, and Carver resists the urge to roll his eyes.
“You’re about to scale the side of the Amell estate in the middle of the night. You’re going to either fall and kill yourself or get the guards called on you.”
“Which is why you are here, my dearest Templar,” Malcolm says, and the look of hurt is replaced by a grin. A sappy grin, because his mind has obviously turned to Leandra.
To be fair, if the two of them have at least a little time together, maybe they will stop using him as a go between. He’s getting rather sick of listening to Malcolm’s lovelorn sighs and passing notes to Leandra whenever he is in Hightown.
Which, of course, doesn’t mean he thinks this is smart, at all.
“You’re going to break your neck,” he says warningly, which is something that won’t stop Malcolm at all.
Stupid apostate.
“You know,” Malcolm says, and now his grin has become somewhat mischievous, “you could go distract her parents.”
“No.”
“Please?”
“This is a stupid idea and I want you to know that you are an idiot.”
There’s a brief moment where Malcolm’s face loses its humor, becoming more thoughtful. Carver knows that Malcolm is actually an incredibly smart man - the problem is that he thinks with his heart more often then his head, and he tends to use his wit to deflect things he doesn’t want to deal with.
“Look,” Carver says, trying to think of a better idea than what they currently have planned. “Why don’t I just go invite her for a stroll around Hightown? Her parents are unlikely to say no to a Templar, and then I’ll just let the two of you have your special time or whatever you want to call it.”
The almost manic grin returns to Malcolm’s face. “You know, her parents are going to think you are courting her.”
“Well, that’s better then them thinking an apostate is.”
“Are you trying to court her?”
Carver just looks at him. “Really? I spend half my time trying to keep the two of you safe while having to put up with both of your lovestruck sighs and you think I would try to come between you? You’re both hopelessly in love and hopelessly stupid.”
And there is that sappy smile that Carver’s getting rather sick of seeing. “Really?”
“Yes, you’re really hopelessly stupid.”
“No, not that,” Malcolm says. “Before that.”
“That I’m spending my time -”
“After that. About her being hopelessly in love with me.”
“...do you really need me to point that out?”
Malcolm’s smile becomes all the more disgustingly sappy. “Okay. Just go and...invite her on a stroll. And, um, give her this.” He passes him a somewhat tattered embrium blossom. “Then she’ll know that I’m out here.”
Carver takes the flower from his hand. “Why do I do these things for you?”
“Because I’m your best friend?”
“Quite possibly. All right, go hide in a corner or something. Look, there are some barrels over there. No sense in having you lurk behind my shoulder.”
“Right. I’ll just go lurk over there, then.”
As Malcolm takes himself out of the line of sight, Carver steps towards the Amell estate’s door.
Maybe, one of these days, he’ll stop putting loyalty to his friends above his duties as a Templar.
Maybe.
But it’s looking to be very unlikely.
Ser Carver, Malcolm, with mentions of Leandra. I'm still trying to make some sense of the two somewhat conflicting stories we have about Malcolm. *sigh*
Also, do we know when Meredith became Knight Commander?
“You know that, one of these days, I’m going to have to actually arrest you,” Carver tells him. As always, Malcolm seems not to take his words seriously.
“Yes, well that day will be full of exciting chases around Kirkwall, and possibly several cabbage carts being overturned,” he says with the air of someone who doesn’t have a thing to worry about, which, in turn, makes Carver scowl.
“I’m being serious, you ass.” And, really, he is. One of these days, one of them is going to slip up in some major way, and the Knight Commander is going to realize just where their missing enchanter has gotten to. Either that, or the new Knight Captain will, and Carver has to say that Meredith is a good deal craftier then the last Knight Captain. “The Red Irons and myself can only protect you for so long, and it will be even less if you keep doing stupid things like this.”
The look on Malcolm’s face falls into the ‘false hurt’ category. Luckily, Carver is rather immune to any and all looks that Malcolm can give him.
“Going to see the love of my life is not stupid,” he declares, and Carver resists the urge to roll his eyes.
“You’re about to scale the side of the Amell estate in the middle of the night. You’re going to either fall and kill yourself or get the guards called on you.”
“Which is why you are here, my dearest Templar,” Malcolm says, and the look of hurt is replaced by a grin. A sappy grin, because his mind has obviously turned to Leandra.
To be fair, if the two of them have at least a little time together, maybe they will stop using him as a go between. He’s getting rather sick of listening to Malcolm’s lovelorn sighs and passing notes to Leandra whenever he is in Hightown.
Which, of course, doesn’t mean he thinks this is smart, at all.
“You’re going to break your neck,” he says warningly, which is something that won’t stop Malcolm at all.
Stupid apostate.
“You know,” Malcolm says, and now his grin has become somewhat mischievous, “you could go distract her parents.”
“No.”
“Please?”
“This is a stupid idea and I want you to know that you are an idiot.”
There’s a brief moment where Malcolm’s face loses its humor, becoming more thoughtful. Carver knows that Malcolm is actually an incredibly smart man - the problem is that he thinks with his heart more often then his head, and he tends to use his wit to deflect things he doesn’t want to deal with.
“Look,” Carver says, trying to think of a better idea than what they currently have planned. “Why don’t I just go invite her for a stroll around Hightown? Her parents are unlikely to say no to a Templar, and then I’ll just let the two of you have your special time or whatever you want to call it.”
The almost manic grin returns to Malcolm’s face. “You know, her parents are going to think you are courting her.”
“Well, that’s better then them thinking an apostate is.”
“Are you trying to court her?”
Carver just looks at him. “Really? I spend half my time trying to keep the two of you safe while having to put up with both of your lovestruck sighs and you think I would try to come between you? You’re both hopelessly in love and hopelessly stupid.”
And there is that sappy smile that Carver’s getting rather sick of seeing. “Really?”
“Yes, you’re really hopelessly stupid.”
“No, not that,” Malcolm says. “Before that.”
“That I’m spending my time -”
“After that. About her being hopelessly in love with me.”
“...do you really need me to point that out?”
Malcolm’s smile becomes all the more disgustingly sappy. “Okay. Just go and...invite her on a stroll. And, um, give her this.” He passes him a somewhat tattered embrium blossom. “Then she’ll know that I’m out here.”
Carver takes the flower from his hand. “Why do I do these things for you?”
“Because I’m your best friend?”
“Quite possibly. All right, go hide in a corner or something. Look, there are some barrels over there. No sense in having you lurk behind my shoulder.”
“Right. I’ll just go lurk over there, then.”
As Malcolm takes himself out of the line of sight, Carver steps towards the Amell estate’s door.
Maybe, one of these days, he’ll stop putting loyalty to his friends above his duties as a Templar.
Maybe.
But it’s looking to be very unlikely.