Chapter Text
"What's that?" Malleus peers over your shoulder, taking a peek at the small box you're holding.
You nearly jump up from the bench in surprise, whipping around to face the tall fae. Your heart pounds in your chest, still reeling from the near-cardiac-arrest Malleus had just given you, but you take a few deep breaths to steady yourself in favor of not looking like a complete mess.
"Did I startle you? I apologize, that was not my intention whatsoever," he says, eyes wide.
You laugh nervously, not used to him being so close to you. Yes, the two of you were on friendly terms, but it still surprises you each time Malleus seeks out your presence—you're not sure why he insists on hanging out so often, but you're certainly not complaining. He's nice to have around, and you're beginning to get the feeling that you might be seeking something a step above a simple friendship—not that you'd tell him that, however. You didn't want to scare him away.
"You're fine, just caught me off guard is all," you say, smoothing out the wrinkles of your uniform.
Malleus nods, walking to the other side of the bench to sit with you and get a better look at the item in your hands.
It's a simple wooden box with a few small engravings over the lid and rusty hinges, but you give him a bright smile, practically jumping from where you sit on the bench as you hold out the box.
"It's a dagger I bought! Look!" You open the lid of the box to reveal a dagger about eight inches long tucked away in a sheath made of green jade. The handle is white and has been carved into a flower with little gemstones lining each delicate petal. Malleus stares at it, eyes wide.
"You bought a knife?"
"Yeah! It was on sale at the farmers market and, y'know, I just couldn't pass up the opportunity! Especially not with how cheap it was."
Malleus nods, not entirely understanding your fascination with the dagger but he certainly didn't want to cut you off. You looked so excited over it; Malleus had seen much more impressive objects in his lifetime that trumped the knife, but something inside of him curled up at the way you looked when you were talking to him about it. He didn't want you to stop under any circumstances.
There was another thought that poked at the corner of his mind, however.
"Isn't it a little dangerous to keep a knife? Whatever would you need that for?" he asks, trying to sound calmer than he felt. Did you feel endangered? Was someone threatening you? He needed to know.
"Nah, I'm just a collector—it's a hobby of mine. I had to agree to a lot of Crowley's terms to get him to agree to this—and argue that technically the ghosts at Ramshackle are adults so he didn't have to supervise me—but it was totally worth it," you emphasize, carefully pulling the dagger out from it's box.
"So...you're not in danger?" asks Malleus, beginning to look a little nervous as he glances down at the dagger.
The question is strangely endearing. Does he really think that? You shake your head, smiling slightly. "Nah, I'm all good. And even if I wasn't, I'd definitely be able to take care of myself!"
Malleus looks more at ease with your statement. "If you're ever in need of any help, I'd be more than happy to offer my assistance to you."
He says it so seriously that for a moment, you think Malleus is joking, but a quick look at his expression says otherwise. "Aha, um, thanks! Really appreciate it," you say, wondering how the conversation took a sober turn.
"Do you mind if I ask a few more questions about your...hobby?" asks Malleus, as if the word was foreign to him.
"Go ahead," you say with a smile. You know that Malleus usually isn't one for delving into things with no ultimate meaning, but he seems so sincere about getting to know more about the daggers—about you—that your cheeks begin to heat up.
"I've seen Lilia with a myriad of swords and knives, but I'm afraid he's never once mentioned that he found it amusing to collect them. Is it really that entertaining?" he asks, looking down at the dagger in your hands again.
"Well...I guess collecting stuff is fun, but it really depends on the person. Some people collect coins or dolls because that's what interests them, but there are others who decide not to collect them, even though the like them too. Does that make sense?"
The gears are visibly turning in Malleus' head. So if they like the dolls they collect them, but others who like dolls...do not collect them? Would it work the other way around? Would people who don't like dolls collect them, since people who like dolls do not collect them?
"I understand it perfectly," says Malleus, giving you an unconvincing smile.
You can tell that he's got no idea how to react to this information, or even make any sense out of it, but you find his willingness to try.
"How are you able to afford all of these knives? I can't imagine that any of what you'd bought would be easy to acquire with the amount of money you currently make."
Your eye twitches. You know that Malleus doesn't mean to basically call you poor, but that's exactly what he's just done. You decide to ignore it because Malleus doesn't mean to be rude and he's genuinely curious about your hobby, fiddling with the dagger in your hands.
"Well, you'd be right about that. A lot of stuff like this can be very expensive, so I usually go looking in places where I know it'll be priced down—like that farmers market I mentioned. This one was, like, super cheap though, so I'm not sure that it's made out of genuine material, but that's not what matters to me. As long as it's pretty and it works, I'll buy it."
Like a raven and their shiny trinkets, thinks Malleus.
He nods, seemingly thoughtful. "I would be willing to fund this collection of yours, should you ever need it. You seem happy with it," he says, voice growing softer at the end.
You give him another bright smile again, your face starting to heat up at Malleus' honesty. "Aw, that's real sweet of you to say. Actually, if it's not too weird, would it be okay if I show you the rest of my collection? I don't get many chances to flaunt it around here," you say bashfully, completely expecting Malleus to turn your offer down.
"I'd like nothing more," says Malleus, as honest as ever. You really, really hope that your face isn't as red as it feels—damn it, Malleus, stop being so nice!
He follows you back to Ramshackle Dorm while you try to keep your excitement under control. Unbeknownst to you, Malleus is doing the exact same thing. As pretty as they were, he had no interest in the actual knives—he just liked spending time with you. He didn't feel as ignored anymore, especially when you initiated the hangouts.
You pray to whichever god will listen that Grim had remembered to clean up after himself when you lead Malleus up to your room, letting out a soft sigh of relief when you see the neatness inside. You'd reward Grim for that later.
Malleus takes in your room with wide eyes, looking around like its a damn museum instead of a shoddy room with barely-concealed planks of wood patching up the holes that used to let the cold night wind inside. He slowly walks around, gazing at everything with unabashed wonder.
He looks so boyish when he bends down to softly run his hand over your desk, looking at the papers and pens strewn across with an expression of gentle curiosity that you don't think you've ever seen him wear.
You cannot stop staring at Malleus. He was a tall, intimidating figure with a reputation as the school's most powerful mage and he was in your room, looking at your pencil-holder like it was the most interesting thing in the world.
"I used to come in here all of the time before you appeared. It's strange to see how much it's changed—you've decorated quite nicely," murmurs Malleus, although you're not sure whether or not he's talking to you or to himself.
On the other side of the room, you've hung up all of your daggers. Each one has been placed next to its sheath in neat little rows, showcasing them like an exhibit. Malleus walks over slowly, scrutinizing each of them with curious eyes.
"This is your collection?" he asks, turning to face you.
"Yeah, it's not much," you say, feeling somewhat embarrassed, although you don't know why.
"No, no, they're all very...impressive," says Malleus in an attempt to make you feel better. "They're lovely! You have very good taste in...knives."
You laugh before you can think twice about it. It's impossible not to, with how Malleus is acting—the most powerful mage at NRC, the fae prince, is making a fool out of himself to lighten your spirits and it's working. You smile at him again, trying to get yourself back under control before responding.
"Sorry, sorry. That's very nice of you to say, though! You can pick them up if you want, I trust you."
Malleus looks ecstatic at your statement. "Really?"
You nod.
You thought that it was impossible for him to look any more excited, but he just proves you wrong as he lights up again.
"I'm very grateful to have earned you trust. I can assure you that you have all of mine in return."
You nod, gesturing to the wall; Malleus looks like he's about to profess something even more serious and poetic if you don't distract him. From what you understand, he doesn't get much socialization outside of his dorm members thanks to his reputation, so it must mean a lot for him to be someone that you trust.
When Malleus turns back to you, he's picked up a short onyx dagger with a silver handle, flipping it from hand to hand casually. "I find this one rather remarkable. Wherever did you find it?"
You shrug. "Probably some antique store somewhere; it's where I get most of my stuff."
Malleus nods, looking at the dagger closely before taking a few strides to stand by your side. Once again, you feel your face start to heat up at his closeness.
"Do you know how to use these?" he asks, looking down at you.
You shake your head, feeling embarrassed all over again. "Ah, not really. I mean, I know basic self defense 'n all, but I can't say I'm familiar with any fancy fighting styles. I don't really use the daggers, I just...collect them," you say sheepishly.
Malleus hums thoughtfully, nodding. He reaches down to take your hand, ignoring the way you stiffen at the sudden contact, and places the dagger in it. "You've got all of these lovely knives and you've never considered learning how to use them? I think it's time you got yourself some lessons, don't you?"
You can barely look at him. You know for sure that your entire face is bright red, but you still try to stay as dignified as possible. "O-oh yeah? Trainers are expensive, though, so how do you propose I learn?"
Malleus grins, eyes shining with delight. "Perhaps I'd be willing to fill in that position for you. How does that sound? I promise not to rough you up too badly, if that's what worries you. So, what do you say? Will you have me as your instructor?"
Even if you wanted to, you could never have found it in yourself to disagree. You nod, unable to do anything else. Malleus' smile widens; distantly, you register that he still hasn't let go of your hand. He's warm, you think to yourself.
"Perfect! Then, as your kind usually say, it's a date."
You freeze. Huh?
"Um, that's—yeah, that's a figure of speech that we use sometimes," you say shakily, wondering where this would go. "But it's got other meanings to it."
"Does it?" Malleus cocks his head to the side, black bangs falling over his eyes, and you have to shove the urge to brush them away from his face deep down.
"Y-yeah. It sometimes means that we would go on, y'know...a date. Romantically."
Malleus leans back, thinking for a moment. You can feel yourself becoming sweatier as each second passes, hoping that you haven't mucked it all up. After what seems like an eternity, Malleus nods firmly.
"Then that's what we'll do. If it's what you want, of course."
Once again, Malleus manages to catch you completely off guard. He's looking down at you expectantly, green eyes shining as he waits for your answer.
"You—um—are you asking me out? Like, was that what you just did?" You ask, mind reeling from what you've just heard. It's not like you didn't want to go out, but you certainly hadn't expected for it to actually happen.
"Yes, I am asking you out. Romantically," emphasizes Malleus. You can't help but grin at that, nodding.
"Then, yes. It's a date."