A/N: Here we go, my 2nd unique story. Please bear with me, it's going to be a couple chapters. Reviews are always welcome.

Spring, 8431 after the founding of Arlathan

I am Merrill, of clan Sabrae, First to Keeper Marethari. I have come to Kirkwall to begin a new life, and to complete reconstruction of the eluvian that I have in my care. It was impossible to do so with my clan, so now it is my sacred task to complete it here, in Kirkwall. This is a document, to prove that I was here.

I have only been in Kirkwall for a week. It is all very confusing. The alienage is nothing like the life of the Dalish. City elves make me so sad. But still, there's also joy here, when the elves gather at night, and I get asked to tell stories of the Dalish sitting by the vhenadahl. Sometimes. The other elvhen are distrustful but I am used to such treatment. I will restore our glory, with the help of the eluvian. It is the most important matter in my life. I wish anyone understood this.

I came here with the help of a group of shemlen. They did a task for Asha'bellanar, as was foretold, and I was very happy to assist them. I had been waiting for them, ever since we came to Sundermount. I knew my time there was limited. What an interesting group of shemlen they were! A dwarf with a crossbow he calls Bianca. He treats her like a fine lady. He seems very kind. Then there was this incredibly stern guard from Kirkwall. She looked like she doesn't know how to smile often. Very grim. Very sad inside. There was this human girl, a mage. I was delighted. She is very pretty, but also sad. She did not really embrace her magic as she should. It's such a gift. She was particularly shocked when she saw me use blood to break the barrier at the top of the mountain. Maybe she will come to understand that magic is not to be shunned. I would like to be her friend.

And then there was their leader. Hawke. Elder sister of the mage. I don't know why my heart is all aflutter. It feels like I ate butterflies, when all I had today was a rind of cheese. Maybe the cheese was off. Hawke is their leader. She walks like one of the hunting cats in the wilds, always on the prowl. She wears two daggers on her back and moves more gracefully than anyone Ihave ever seen before. She's been so kind to me. I have only known her a week, but...ah, by the Dread Wolf.

I shall focus on my studies, in this journal, surely, and not fanciful babbling.

Merrill was sitting at one of the tables in the living room of the small house that Varric had acquired for her in the alienage. She paid very little rent for it. Not much, as she did not really have any sort of income, aside from her share in Hawke's adventures. The elf held her eluvian fragment in her hands, studying it closely. Often she felt that she looked at it so hard that all its knowledge should just explode in her head, because she was trying so hard. But things were never easy like that.

It was a damp day in Kirkwall, and the dampness could be smelled in the rotten wood of the house. The sound of dripping water was distracting, trickling from a leak in the roof into a bucket placed beneath.

She was just about to reach for her knife when a knock sounded on the door. Not really accustomed to visitors, Merrill quickly covered the fragment with a cloth and called, "Come in, the door's open." In came none other than Hawke herself, and Merrill was hard pressed to keep the joy from her face. "Oh, hello Hawke, how lovely of you to come visit old me."

Hawke chuckled as she walked in. She moved into the room without any hesitation, and turned one of the chairs around to sit on it, resting her arms on the back of the chair. "I told you I'd keep an eye on you, didn't I?" She now rested her chin on her arms, looking at Merrill from piercingly blue eyes. "You spend too much time on your own. I am here to change that." She had a light smile on her lips, which was very different from her natural smirk. "Maker, it's cold in here. Do you need firewood? The rain does not help, I suppose."

Merrill was always amazed how self-possessed and charismatic Hawke was. People were drawn to her like moths to the flame. Most of the time, the Fereldan used her sharp tongue on everyone, as razor-sharp as the daggers on her back. Sometimes the words were so sharp they tore a person to shreds. They were words that left scars. Still, everyone came back for more. The elf bit her lip, sitting on the edge of her table as she studied Hawke. The only times Hawke ever seemed gentle were when they were alone. She treated the elf gingerly, compared to everyone else. Maybe Hawke had a soft spot for mage girls, like her very own sister Bethany.

"Hello Merrill, anybody home?" Hawke snapped her fingers, and then grinned when Merrill blushed. "I thought I had come to the wrong house for a moment to the wrong elf, normally you talk a lot more than today."

The elf shook her head. "I have a lot on my mind, I am so sorry, Hawke. Would you like some water? That's all I have. One of these days I will get you some wine or ale, so that I won't be such a terrible host. It's such a miracle you still come to see me."

Hawke reached out a hand, holding it up. "Relax, Merrill. I am just fine. I am not thirsty. I can always head to the Hanged Man from here should I develop a thirst. I only came to see if you were doing well." She looked around. "Still very sparse, but I see you get more books every time I come here." She stretched in the chair, like a cat. "I have a couple more jobs lined up, and was hoping you'd come along. With Aveline and Varric for company. I am at the halfway mark for the expedition."

"Oh, how exciting. Ah, you are so resourceful, it won't take long for you to get the gold together. It would be my pleasure to join you." Merrill could never really hide her excitement when Hawke actually chose her to come along. "The deep roads, that's going to be so exciting for you. All that knowledge, buried deep underneath the earth."

Hawke rubbed her chin. "It's not really knowledge I seek, Merrill. I need profit. My mother is so unhappy, and I really would rather not stay any longer with the sleazeball that is my uncle. The Amell estate should be ours, so that my family can live there." The enmity between Hawke and Gamlen was no secret, with him having thrown away their fortune carelessly. "But maybe you will find knowledge down there. If you want to come along when we go."

Merrill could not deny the funny feeling in her tummy again as she looked at Hawke. "I think I would love that. Going with you. Yes." She held on to the edges of the table and just looked at the other woman. Dread Wolf, please make her not see that Iwould do anything for her. Or maybe make her see. Merrill's thoughts made her look at the floor in embarrassment.

"Let's celebrate, for Aveline will be promoted to guard-captain! We have our very own guard in our pocket for real now!" Hawke raised her tankard of ale, and the other companions joined her for it. All but Aveline who crossed her arms before her. She did not like coming to the Hanged Man.

The red-haired Fereldan shook her head. "I am not in anyone's pocket, so stop making such insinuations, Hawke. It's not funny. Not in a guard corps where the previous captain was corrupt." The freckles stood out on her face.

Merrill watched this all in the detached manner she usually had in the Hanged Man. She, like Aveline, did not feel at home here, but for different reasons. For the elf, there were too many people, too many confusing things happening around her, and far too many things going over her head.

What did not go over her head was that Hawke was in her cups, and that she was enjoying both the advances of Fenris and Isabela. Merrill did not know how this made her feel, but it probably contributed greatly to her feeling of unease.

Aveline soon spoke her farewells, looking to celebrate in the barracks instead of with her companions. This left Varric, who was trying to start a round of cards, a very broody Anders who watched Hawke's flirtations with open dismay, and Bethany who also never seemed quite at ease in the Hanged Man. Or anywhere. Her eyes were always seeking the crowd for that one person to turn her in as apostate.

Merrill smiled sadly at Anders' unhappiness. Maybe they had more in common than just being mages. Anders was usually very unkind to her, and lectured for hours about her dealings with spirits and the danger of blood magic.

The problem with being amongst people was that they usually treated her like a fool.

Varric sensed Merrill's restlessness and put his hand on her arm. "What's up, Daisy? Are bees stinging you? You shift in your seat as if you have the urge to go frolic."

The elf smiled at this. "Oh, I wouldn't mind. Feeling the grass underneath my toes would be a lot better than the cold stone of Kirkwall. Maybe I should find a garden in Hightown to frolic in."

Hawke was staring intently at Fenris. The two of them were not really too keen on each other, with their vastly differing opinions on mages. However, this did not seem to stop them in other areas. "Merrill, when we're back from the Deep Roads and I can buy the Amell estate, then you will have permanent permission to frolic in the garden any time of the day and night."

Merrill's heart would have been more warmed by the words if Hawke hadn't gotten up at that point, leaving the Hanged Man with Fenris in tow, without any further word to the other companions. "What a generous offer," Merrill murmured, but it didn't feel generous right now. It felt shallow. Maybe that's what Hawke was, shallow. And yet, the Hanged Man felt colder without her there.