Blue Fire

Hawke sat alone on a stool in the Hanged Man, ordering drinks for the rest of her companions with a sour look on her face. It had been a while since she had slept, reoccurring nightmares of Bethany plagued her dreams even after the Deep Roads and now Carver was gone too, all because she had taken him into the Deep Roads without thinking about the damn darkspawn taint.

She felt wrong sitting in the Hanged Man so soon after Carver's death and drinking, but Mother had encouraged her to get out with her friends and Hawke never wanted to disappoint Mother anymore than she had already.

"Hawke!" Isabela called from behind her, causing Hawke to roll her eyes and look over her shoulder to see that the pirate was smirking in a way that could only mean Isabela was up to something. "We're playing a game here! You in?"

Hawke snorted and rubbed at the back of her neck, trying to ease the ache that had settled there at Isabela's persistence of getting her attention. All she wanted was just a little peace and quiet for a while, but that was foolish of her to ask for considering where she was.

"Will I lose my clothing in the process?" Hawke asked with a subtle arch of her brows, resting her chin in the palm of her hand. "Because I'd like to keep my clothing on if that's alright with you."

Isabela rolled her eyes. "It's not but no, you won't lose anything in the process."

"Apart from your dignity." Aveline coughed sharply with her green eyes glinting in amusement when Hawke barked a quick laugh.

"Didn't stop you from playing man-hands!" Isabela shot back with a shove of Aveline's shoulder, crossing her arms across her breasts and pouting playfully. "I'm sure you're just waiting to spill all your dirty little secrets to us all."

"Shut up whore."

Hawke turned her back on her companions to order the rest of the remaining drinks, sighing into her hands once more when Norah tripped over another one of Corff's boots and spilled it down her.

She was pretty sure she was going to be here forever until she felt someone small and petite brush against her, making Hawke turn her head to meet Merrill's eyes with an unconcerned stare.

Merrill was a blood mage, it was one of the things they had in common but they could be no more different than one another either. But Hawke didn't hate Merrill, she was intrigued by her more than anything and while Merrill didn't always see eye-to-eye when it came to Hawke's decisions about mages, they got on more than the others expected.

"Hello Hawke! I thought you might want some help in carrying the drinks over!" Merrill said brightly before her face dropped at the sight of Norah's drenched clothes. "Oh dear, I think Norah feels as though she's in a lake again. Isabela tells me Norah bathes in the beer barrels."

Hawke blinked once before gracing Merrill with a frown, she was very gratuitous after all. "I don't think you should believe everything Isabela says, she speaks nonsense half the time."

Merrill bumped Hawke's shoulder in reply before sitting herself down next to the apostate, nervously allowing her fingers to slip and slide over one another until Hawke got sick of seeing them doing such an anxious action and placed her hand over Merrill's - halting Merrill's fingers to a stand-still.

"Stop it." Hawke rumbled grumpily, more angry at herself for getting annoyed with Merrill than anything. "Stop being so nervous, I'm not going to bite you."

Merrill's eyes widened and she flushed, immediately making Hawke groan at how easy it was to make Merrill embarrassed in such a short amount of time. "Oh I don't know! I wouldn't mind! I mean I'm sure you wouldn't bite hard would you? I-I'll shut up."

Hawke arched another eyebrow at the elven mage, looking surprised at the awkward look that crossed Merrill's face.

Realising that she still had Merrill's hands trapped underneath her own Hawke pulled her hands away, turning away from Merrill to glare at the back of Corff's head; silently willing him to go faster.

She wasn't good at understanding when people liked her or not, she didn't understand why people had to tip-toe past the subject of romance or subtly change the subject whenever it came up. If people just came out and said it then it'd be a whole lot easier.

Before Hawke could complain even more about the unfairness of her life to herself, she felt something prod her in the cheek before a gasp reached her ears; making her turn to address the source of said gasp. "Merrill, why did you just poke me?"

"I was just curious about something." Merrill responded with a small smile, poking Hawke again to make sure before nodding. "You're really warm Hawke, but you don't look it which is really, really strange!"

"Is it?" Hawke said gruffly, brushing aside her fringe and grabbing the first two mugs of ale Norah had presented her and placing them on the wooden tray. "And how many people have you conducted this experiment on?"

Merrill looked bashful when Hawke let her eyes look back at the elf and that was answer enough. "Well only you but you're very reliable and honest so I trust your judgement!"

Hawke chuckled briefly, surprising herself at how it was actually genuine and not forced like many of the other times. "And what is this experiment actually? You didn't tell me."

Merrill blushed again but this time didn't back down, shuffling her stool closer to Hawke to grab the other two mugs of ale that Norah presented to them and placing them idly next to the other two mugs. "Well I was curious about if a person looks cold then are they actually cold when you touch them, because that's what I always wondered to myself back when I was studying with Keeper Marethari."

"And the conclusion?" Hawke murmured, eyeing Merrill over once before returning to her own mug of ale and sipping it slightly with distaste creasing her features.

Merrill shook her head with a laugh. "Nope! It's nothing like that!"

However a worried expression crossed over Merrill's face and the elf blushed again and sunk her head into her hands, shaking her head rapidly until Hawke feared it'd roll off.

"I'm sorry that must sound really silly to you but you know…" Merrill looked up shyly from her hands, eyes bright and wide, so much that Hawke moved her face away to hide her own blush at such a passionate stare. "Don't you ever wonder these little things that sound so silly, but you still wonder anyway? I do. Me and Mahariel used to think the clouds were mushrooms."

Hawke allowed herself to think for a second before she let the memories of Lothering wash over her completely, mentally holding out her hands to catch a memory in each palm and bringing it to her eyes in wonder, in delight, in guilt, in memory…

"Yeah." She answered plainly with another grunt, turning her face and allowing her right hand to paw away Merrill's fingers with her coarse, rugged digits; wincing when her skin caught on Merrill's cheek. "It's not silly really, I'd be a bit of a hypocrite if I thought it was. Bethany used to call me blue fire, one of those famous warrior-mages that fought for mages freedom in one of her novels. She didn't like them that much, but she enjoyed me reading them to her. Some days I still believe I'm blue fire, but it's nothing but hog-wash now."

"Oh no! It's not!" Merrill said with a little flail of her arms, catching Hawke off-guard enough that it made her flinch and move her face away from the young elf. "That's a really nice memory for you to hold onto! You shouldn't call it that! I think the name suits you anyway."

Hawke wasn't accustomed to being flattered, did it normally involve blushing cheeks and for her heart to quicken almost as if Merrill's sentence called to it? What a strange thing.

"Why?" She asked and yet another lightning bolt of shock hit her straight in her gut, why did she sound so bloody husky? She felt as if she was running out of air to breathe, it was ludicrous!

Merrill leaned in as though she was going to tell Hawke the biggest secret ever, instead when Hawke heard Merrill's answer she laughed quietly and brought her mug of ale to her lips again in amusement.

"My eyes?" Hawke mumbled against the rim of her mug, eyes alight in amusement at Merrill's innocence. "Blue fire hm? That's… flattering."

"Am I doing alright then?" Merrill questioned Hawke right out of the blue, making Hawke stiffen and for her mouth to go slack against the rim of her mug. "This flirting? Am I doing it okay?"

Hawke said the first thing that came to her. "Fine I suppose. Although you're coming onto me a bit strong."

Merrill flushed immediately and grabbed onto the edge of her stool, scraping it across the wooden panels away from the former refugee.

"I'll just move over here then! Isabela warned me you might be angry if I came on too strong!" Merrill murmured so quickly that Hawke almost didn't catch what she was saying, although what she did catch was that Isabela had obviously been helping Merrill with some sort of strange 'seduction' that included her.

"I'm not angry with you," Hawke grumbled once more with an irritated sigh, massaging her throbbing forehead with a cough. "I'm flattered Merrill, very much so. But…"

Merrill didn't give her time to finish and grabbed her stool to once more drag it further away from the apostate, grabbing a near by mug and swallowing the remnants in one eager gulp; her usual pale face flushed in nerves.

"It'sokayHawke!" Merrill whispered so quickly and nervously that her words jumbled together into one big anxious sentence. "Ididn'tknowyoulikedpeopleanywaybutI'mreallyokaywithit!"

Hawke waited for Merrill to finish her awful jumbled sentences before she huffed and got off her own stool to grab another one and plonk it down next to the elven mage, her lip pouted out in annoyance.

She sighed when she noticed that Merrill was glancing at her curiously from the corner of her eye; because really, what in Maker's name did Merrill think she was going to do to her? Eat her? Maim her? Stuff her up like a solstice nug?

"I'm not your type." Hawke said as blunt as Fenris's clawed gauntlets, giving Merrill a knowing-look when the elf girl looked at her in shock. "No, really. I'm just too grumpy for you Merrill."

Merrill dipped her finger into her mug with her emerald eyes still focused on Hawke's piercing blue ones, allowing the tip of her finger to move around the rim of the mug until the elf managed to cup some froth on the pad of her finger and offered it to Hawke.

Hawke arched one of her fine eyebrows at the elf, looking bemused at the white froth that was being presented to her on Merrill's finger.

"Didn't you hear what I said?" Hawke asked with her lips forming downwards into a scowl; she despised it when people ignored everything she said, especially when she was being serious. She normally got this sort of attitude off Isabela so for Merrill to not at least attempt to listen her put her on the edge.

"Oh I did Hawke!" Merrill said with an exuberant smile, drastically different from the shy, bumbling elf girl Hawke had been talking to a moment ago. "But I was trying to make you laugh so I could say 'oh look Hawke you aren't grumpy!' but now it won't work because I told you…Oh well!"

Hawke watched the contours of Merrill's face and the daintiness of the elf's fingers, cocking her head to the side and allowing her lips to quirk up slightly in amusement.

Merrill immediately brightened and threw herself around Hawke's neck with an enormous eruption of giggles escaping from her, yet soon pulled away at the realisation that not only was they in the Hanged Man but it was also full to the brim with occupants - a group of which were their friends.

A whistle broke the awkward silence that immediately broke out between the two of them, drawing Hawke's and Merrill's attention away from one another to stare at the smirking pirate who had somehow managed to sneak into the seat next to them with the tray of mugs resting on her lap.

Hawke immediately became rigid once she and Isabela locked eyes, her lithe fingers curling into fists. "Isabela…"

Isabela clicked her tongue mischievously in reply, giving Merrill a wicked wink and letting her eyes roam Hawke's face.

"What are you looking at, pirate?" Hawke growled underneath her breath, embarrassed beyond relief. Stupid Isabela and her really nice eyes that Hawke actually liked quite a bit.

"Oh nothing," Isabela teased with another knowing look being shot over Hawke's shoulder at the flushed Merrill. "Just wondering why you and Kitten are making doe-eyes at one another."

Merrill watched in fascination as Hawke's back stiffened noticeably underneath her thin yet armoured robe, eyes alight and curious as they followed the small muscles that tensed in irritation - it was a most intriguing thing to watch.

"I don't do doe-eyes." Hawke said through gritted teeth, getting up from her stool to stare down Isabela enough that the pirate finally gave in and with a laugh also got up fro her stool, her height so dramatically different from Hawke's that Merrill hid her laugh behind her hand at seeing the small Hawke face off against the tall Isabela.

"That right birdy?" Isabela breathed down to let her voice brush against every curve of Hawke's cheek. "You and Kitten are getting very cosy as of late and I've got to warn you now if you hurt her…"

Hawke growled and shoved at Isabela's shoulder, pushing past the Rivaini pirate with a departing 'piss off' to leave Isabela giggling even when Aveline sighed and rushed out of the tavern to catch up with the apostate before Hawke decided to take her anger out on someone.

Merrill frowned at the pirate and poked Isabela gently on the shoulder. "Isabela you're horrible to Hawke sometimes."

Isabela shrugged and gave the elf a half-hearted grin, patting Merrill's shoulder with a giggle. "Let me put it this way Kitten; I tease her because I care."

Merrill gave Isabela her best 'oh really?' look before also breaking out into giggles, wrapping herself in Isabela's warmth when the pirate pulled her into a triumphant hug.

"You like Hawke don't you?" Merrill whispered teasingly into the crook of Isabela's neck, pleased that she had gone along with Isabela's plan even though she had felt terrible at putting Hawke on the spot when the blood mage obviously did not want her attentions.

"Oh yes, her dull, broody self is what gets me up in the mornings!" Isabela said dryly although there was humour in her voice, humour that told Merrill that maybe the pirate cared about Hawke more than she was willing to admit. "Literally, she kicked my head in once because she needed my help of some sorts. I don't see why she doesn't take Anders with her, the poor bloke never leaves the clinic! Not even for sex! It's terrible, really."

Merrill smiled and got up from Isabela's warm arms, grabbing two mugs and clinking them together joyfully.

"You. Are. Obvious."

And with that Merrill did her duty of giving the two mugs to Fenris and Anders, doing her best to smile when both seemed to glare at her.

Life was never perfect after all.