A/N: An attempt to bridge Merrill's very matter-of-fact personality in DA:O to the Merrill we love today.

Disclaimer: All characters herein are properties of Bioware and EA. The derivative work is however, mine.


"Mahariel, sick from just being near it."

As the name escaped her lips, a knot caught in Merrill's throat. Sad memories came with it.


A human came into their camp carrying one of their hunter in his arms. Many of the clan swarmed around the pair, accusations and questions hurled back and forth. The only reason the Dalish have refrained from raining arrows on the human was the danger they might pierce their own as well.

Merrill, however, could only gape at the sight: with him was Mahariel, the clan's best hunter, deathly pale. The crowd, or mob, as she would have described it, gave her way as she rushed to her unconscious friend. She was First to the Keeper, afterall. The human had already laid Mahariel upon a mat and she examined her. Mahariel was shivering, her eyes rolled back and was burning with fever; worse, the pauses between breaths were agonizingly long. Merrill made a small sob, she knew Mahariel might not have long.

Marethari, the clan's Keeper, arrived at the scene shortly. The elder elf, with great diplomacy, questioned the human. He introduced himself as Duncan, a Grey Warden, and explained he found the hunter in a ruin he was exploring. That managed to calm down the clan; the Dalish respected the Grey Wardens for their service and the fact that they genuinely welcomed Dalish into their ranks. The other elves finally turned their attention to their unconscious kin.

Merrill was barely listening to the exchange between Marethari and Duncan. She skimmed her mind but could not remember any spells to treat her sick friend. "Keeper," cried Merrill, "I fear for Mahariel, she needs your healing right away."

Marethari addressed Merrill with a surprised look for a moment, then nodded. "Of course, da'len, I will see to her right now." She looked back to Duncan and bowed, "I must excuse myself, Grey Warden." She gestured to Merrill. "This is my First, Merrill. If you know anything more that could help, please tell her for me." She could only watch as Mahariel was carried off by the other elves into an aravel and Marethari followed close behind them.

Left with only Merrill, Duncan related to her how he encountered the sick hunter. He was investigating some ruins deep in the forest for signs of darkspawn. During his search, he found Mahariel unconscious in the innermost chamber. She inquired if he saw Tamlen but the gruff human merely shook his head.

"Sadly, I saw no trace of your other clanmate. If he suffered like this hunter…" Duncan shook his head. "Maker's mercy you find him soon." Unable to offer anymore information, the Grey Warden bid his farewell. "I'm sorry about your friends." he sighed, and disappeared into the woods.

The clan's First immediately proceeded to the Keeper's aravel. There she found Marethari with glowing hands hovering over Mahariel's body; the elder woman's brows wrinkled and her eyes closed in deep concentration. A small nod from her acknowledged Merrill's presence. Merrill folded her knees beneath her as she sat beside the Keeper. Her eyes fixed on her friend's form; she no longer shivered, though her breath still came in shallow gasps. Merrill covered her mouth with both hands and sobbed quietly. She wished she could do more but her experience in healing was limited to small cuts and bruises the hunters frequently came home with. This was not any illness she, or the Keeper she thought, had ever encountered.

"Fetch all the lyrium we have, da'len." Marethari whispered, still casting her magic upon Mahariel. "We'll need it."


Marethari had left the aravel to arrange a search party for Tamlen. She had spent the entire night and early morning trying to bring Mahariel's fever down with little success. Merrill herself had not rested since the commotion began, but she didn't mind. Marethari tried convincing her First to get some rest herself but Merrill refused to leave. Defeated, she instructed Merrill to fetch her if Mahariel worsened or as soon as she woke up.

Merrill's green eyes fixated on Mahariel's stillness. At least color had returned to the sleeping elf's skin and was then breathing evenly. Recalling Mahariel's condition mere hours earlier stabbed her heart. She thought how she was unready to be Keeper then, and silently thanked Mythal and Marethari's knowledge of the old ways.

Mahariel is the child of her clan's previous Keeper; had she been born with magic, she would have been Marethari's First. "Why shouldn't she be?", Merrill thought. As soon as she received her vallaslin Mahariel had distinguished herself as the clan's best hunter. They were not even a year apart, but Mahariel had a certain light which drew the clan to her; she had always been special, at least for Merrill. For starters, she had bright and crystalline blue eyes so rare among the elves. She could not forget how taken she was with those sparkling blue orbs when she joined the Sabrae clan.

Being separated from her parents, she was not so different from Mahariel, who had been orphaned since birth. She became Merrill's first friend, her bestfriend. Whatever time she could find away from the Keeper and her studies, she spent with Mahariel. Tamlen and Fenarel were often with them, of course, but she mostly enjoyed the other girl's company. Years passed and she watched in awe as her giggling blue-eyed lethallin grew up to be a beautiful and confident hunter of their clan. In Merrill's eyes, her friend was the embodiment of Vir Tanadhal, Adruil herself in divine glory.

It was only recently, when Mahariel had been spending so much time away on her hunts, that Merrill realized she had feelings stronger than friendship for the young hunter. Which she found terrifying, to say the least. The Dalish have few enough numbers that everyone is expected to take a spouse and have a family; more so from both Merrill and Mahariel since their line possesses magic. That and how everyone in the clan presumed it was only a matter of time before Tamlen and her object of affection will join in union.

Self-depreciating as ever, she thought: would Mahariel even consider her as she is, an awkward, rambling woman who's barely a First; against Tamlen, a man and a fellow-hunter, to whom she had presumably grown fonder during their lone hunts together?

So she answered her own question: Never. Thus, along with her realization of her love for the other girl also came Merrill's decision to lock it forever in her heart. She withdrew from Mahariel and the others to save herself from further pain. Being Marethari's First became her all.

Merrill lifted a hand to Mahariel's sleeping face, her fingertips barely touching the smooth alabaster skin. Long fingers slowly ran from the bottom of the other's face and traced the elegant lines of Mahariel's chin, lips, nose, brows, and finally the eyes. Loneliness and longing trembled her small body as tears fell from her face.

"I'd give anything to see those eyes again, emma lath. Anything." She planted a soft kiss on the sleeping woman's forehead, and continued her sorrowful vigil in silence.


"Merrill?"

The lithe elf blinked and realized she had drifted off. She turned to Hawke, who had one of her eyebrows was raised with a playful smirk gracing her features. "Don't keep me in suspense." Hawke's smirk turned into a grin. "Is there a punchline?"

"Punchline?" Merill shook her head and waved her hands at her guest. "Oh no Hawke I don't need you to punch anyone. Us mages aren't really built for punching, are we?" Hawke immediately giggled, and Merrill found herself staring at her friend. At her eyes, in particular. It felt like she was seeing Hawke for the first time. A warm feeling spread in her chest.

Blue eyes, as brilliant as the sky and clear as the ocean depths, glittered like sapphire. Not unlike those which first captured her heart.

"You're blushing, Merrill." Hawke inched close to the other woman and gently poked her nose. "Thinking dirty?"

Merrill turned into an even brighter shade of red with the touch."No! Or maybe…no really, no," she stammered. "Anyway, you'll help me with the Arulin'holm, won't you?"

Hawke smiled, her eyes sparkled with the gesture. "Of course, but only because you used that 'you kicked my puppy' voice."

Merrill barely resisted the urge to throw herself at her friend. "Welp, I should be making preparations for Sundermount." said Hawke as she padded to the door. "I'll be picking you up tomorrow morning then?"

"I can't wait. Ma serannas, Hawke." Merrill opened the door for her. "I'll find some way to repay you, I promise." Hawke only shook her head with a mischievous smile. "I should hope so." The taller woman made a small wave and closed the door behind her.

Merrill stared at the door for what seemed like an hour. As excited she was about tomorrow's quest, her mind was more abuzz with images of Hawke. Poking her nose. Smiling. Laughing. Those bewitching blue eyes enrapturing her with every look.

This time, Merrill hoped, she would not need to lock her heart away.

-fin-