What Might Have Been

Disclaimer: I do not own anything to do with Dragon Age 2 or the Dragon Age series. All credit for this story goes to the wonderful minds at Bioware.

The majority of this one-shot was written while listening to The Dumbing Down of Love by Imogen Heap (Frou Frou). God Bless Imogen Heap.

Pre-Story Info: Set during the events of Dragon Age 2. M!Hawke is the Champion of Kirkwall, and has helped Merrill with her final quest.

Merrill sighed and added another box to the pile. "Moving out's not that fun," she said to herself as she packed. "It's not ever as fun as moving in." Merrill sighed and returned to her packing. Her mind drifted to the events that had occurred in the last couple of days, months, years; the time went on and on.

It was all due to Hawke, of course. By the Creators she loved him; his hair, his smile, the way he shot lightning out of his fingertips. She loved his laugh, the way he held her on cold nights, the way he kissed her whenever the mood struck him. She loved the love-making. She loved the sound of his voice. She loved how he always put on his left boot first. She loved his beautiful brown eyes, and how he would stare into hers with a love so deep it was almost too much to bear. She loved that he could stare death in the face and not even blink. She loved how warm he was at night. She loved his fuzzy beard. She loved his sense of humor (even if she only got half of the jokes). She loved his compassion, and how well he treated the people he called his friends.

In short, Merrill loved everything about him.

"Oh, dear." Merrill said quietly, a blush creeping onto her face. "Now's not the time to get all hot and bothered, Merrill. Hawke's going to be here soon, and Varric too. Got to finish packing. Stop talking to yourself and get your head on straight." Nevertheless, she still found herself thinking of Hawke and how wonderful he was.

She still marveled in it; the idea that someone like him could love someone like her. He was the Champion of Kirkwall, she was just a lost Dalish girl. He was a powerful mage and a cunning rogue, she was a lowly elf who still got lost in Lowtown at night. He was incredible and she was just a stale, dry biscuit. He had no reason to love her and oftentimes Merrill would wonder why Hawke had gone after her instead of Isabela. The Rivaini woman was certainly more exiting, more appealing, more experienced.

More like Hawke.

"Why'd he choose me?" she wondered aloud. "Hawke could have had anyone he ever wanted, but he chose me. Me, the stupid Dalish girl who got her Keeper killed." Merrill's eyes drifted to the spot where the Eluvian once sat and her eyes brimmed with tears. "He... he deserves better than me. I'm an idiot, and he's wonderful. He'd probably be happier without me."

"Is that not for Hawke to decide?"

Merrill wheeled around, her eyes wide. She recognized the voice, though it seemed to come to her from another time, another life. "Mahariel?"

Cayne Mahariel strode out of the shadows, a small smile on his severe face. His red eyes gleamed with amusement, and his black hair was still wrapped in that long ponytail he had worn since the two elves had been children. He stopped a few paces away from her and his smile grew wider as he looked at the stunned expression on Merrill's face. "Surprised?"

Merrill's hand shot to her mouth as she suppressed a loud gasp. "Lethallin! You... you're not...?" It was the only question she could think of and inwardly Merrill cursed her foolishness.

Cayne shrugged and smiled that same cocksure grin that she remembered from all those years ago. "Dead? Perhaps I am, and your eyes show you a ghost." For a moment, Cayne was that cocky Dalish hunter Merrill had grown up with all those years ago. He had been confident, arrogant, talented; he had been all the things Merrill wished she could have been. "I never thought to see you dumbstruck, lethallan. Should I have knocked?"

Merrill scrambled across the room and wrapped her arms around her clansmen. She didn't even mind that he was encased in a suit of heavy black armor; it was enough to see her old friend again. She looked up at him and smiled, tears coursing down her face. "Cayne..."

Cayne's smile faded. "I am sorry, Merrill." He gently broke her embrace. "I am sorry I could not help you during your trials. You of all people should not have to suffer for this broken world." He sighed and turned away, his face gaunt and distraught. "I am sorry for what happened to Marethari."

Merrill took a step back. "You know?" she whispered, "You know what happened?"

Cayne nodded. "I do. You... you walk a difficult path, lethallan. Love and life are never easy to keep. Sometimes... sometimes our actions are the very destruction of the things we do not wish to loose."

Merrill couldn't hold it back anymore. She broke down right there, right in front of her lost friend and she tried in vain to fight back the tears. The tears were relentless and poured down her face while she angrily wiped them away.

Cayne didn't try to comfort her. She needed to be strong for herself. That was the way of the Dalish. After a moment, Merrill stood up and wiped the tears from her face. "Oh Creators... It's... it's awful, lethallin. I tried to help them and they... and they..." More tears poured down her face, confirming all that needed to be said. "They thought I was evil, Cayne. They thought I was dangerous. They thought worse of me than any Blight."

Cayne sighed and shook his head sadly. "We were mighty once, lethallan. But we are mighty no longer. We have changed, for better or worse, and there is no turning back."

Merrill's eyes grew wide. "You're saying... you're saying that-"

"We will never be what we once were," Cayne said bitterly. "You should accept that. You squandered too much time on the past, on broken, dead things. You built a life here. You should focus on that. Our clan... The spirit of our clan died with Tamlen."

Merrill looked away. Cayne was somewhat glad. The look in her eyes hurt him deeper than any blade ever had.

"I built a life," she said slowly, "I built a life after Tamlen died and you went off to fight the darkspawn. I built a life and threw it away after I left the clan. I rebuilt it here in this horridly ugly city, away from the peace of the mountains and the tranquility of the forests. I don't have a life, Cayne. Not as any Dalish would see it."

Cayne put a hand on her shoulder. "We are no longer Dalish, Merrill. It is our fate to be... pariah. There is nothing we can do to change that."

Merrill looked deep into Cayne's eyes, her green orbs shimmering with sadness. "It's my fault, Cayne. I turned to blood magic. I made a deal with a demon. I killed the Keeper, destroyed the clan's future."

Cayne sighed and looked away. "I am sorry, lethallan. Fate is strange. It changes us, breaks us, ruins us. But sometimes... sometimes it builds us up, makes us who we need to be in order to face the trials ahead."

"What does that mean, Cayne?"

Cayne was silent for a moment. He reached down and took Merrill's right hand in his, his gloved fingers strong but gentle. "This ring," he said quietly, " Sylvanwood. Beautiful." His blood-red eyes locked with hers. "The Champion gave this to you, did he not?"

Merrill's eyes went wide. "He did. How did you-"

"Do you love him?"

The question caught Merrill off guard. "I... I love him, Cayne. I love him more than anything else. I can't not love him. He saved me."

A sad smile lit upon Cayne's face. Even naive as she was, Merrill could see that the great warrior was close to tears. "I am... I am so happy for you, Merrill. Love is so difficult to find. Often... oftentimes it is tragic beyond understanding. But when it exists with honesty, purity and grace, then I find hope. There is nothing more beautiful in this world than a love that brings hope." He kissed her forehead softly, his lips a faint whisper on her skin. "Thank you. Thank you for everything, Merrill."

She shivered at his touch. Only one other person had ever kissed her like that, and he was no elf. She tremble and pulled away from him. "Cayne... I'm sorry we weren't-."

The same sad smile. "I know, lethallan," he said quietly. "In another life, perhaps."

Merrill turned away, unable to bear his gaze. "Cayne... do you ever wish things were different? Do you ever wish things could have been different?"

Cayne Mahariel looked down at his gauntlet-covered hands. "With us?" he whispered.

Merrill nodded. "With us."

Cayne was quiet for what seemed like an eternity. "Sometimes... Sometimes I wish that Tamlen had never discovered that cave. Sometimes I wonder if it wouldn't have been better to have died there, in that ruin. Sometimes I dream of things that... that never came to pass." He turned suddenly and smiled at her. Merrill was shocked by the sadness and regret she saw in his eyes. "But I cannot dwell on those things. Neither can you. We both have our parts to play, our destinies to meet. Yours lies with the man you love. Mine... mine lies in dark places. Places that I pray you will never know."

Merrill placed a hand on Cayne's arm, her fingers brushing lightly against cold black metal. "You speak as though things are going to get worse, lethallin. What's going to happen? Why did you really come here?"

Cayne took a step back, hiding his gaze from his long lost friend. "Things are going to come to a climax, Merrill. All the hate, all the anger, it is all going to come to a head. You and your friends are going to find yourselves thrown in the middle of something you want nothing to do with. I do not know when these events will occur, but they will." He looked at her suddenly, his face fraught with worry. "It will be the end of old things, lethallan. It will be the end of much. You must find strength in yourself and those you love. They will be the ones to carry you through the dark times. Remember that." Cayne suddenly looked away from her, his eyes narrowed. "So... I have said too much, have I?" His voice was almost a whisper. "Must I do this? Damn everything, she is-" Cayne suddenly fell silent and his eyes closed. He took in a single, grief-stricken breath.

"Cayne?" Merrill whispered, "Lethallin, what's the matter? What's wrong? Please, whatever it is, I can help. Hawke can-"

Cayne suddenly stepped forward, his face inches from Merrill's own. She could sense the power that radiated off of him. She could smell the faint mixture of sweat, blood and forged metal that defined him. She could see the sad anger in his eyes and feel the cold murmur of his breath as it whispered past his lips.

Merrill was suddenly aware of how close Cayne's lips were to her own. Her body trembled. Her face was flushed. "Lethallan-"

He pulled her close, without warning. Merrill's eyes went wide as his lips pressed hungrily against hers, as he tasted her with a desire that was as tragic as it was sating. She felt herself kiss him back, her head swimming with mixed feelings and overwhelming desire. She wrapped her arms around his chestplate, pressing against him with reckless abandon. She wanted this.

By the Creators, she wanted him.

Cayne suddenly broke the kiss, turning away and hiding his face from hers. "I... I am so sorry, lethallan. I wish it were not so, but you cannot remember this. You cannot remember me." He looked over to where Merrill was standing, her eyes glazed and unaware, her body rigid and unknowing. "It will pass," Cayne whispered to her, tears pooling under his eyes. "When you awake, you will forget everything of our meeting. You will recall me only as a distant memory, a friend who will forever be lost to you. You will find sadness in this, but you will move on. You have a life here. I have no right to come back into it." He wiped an armored hand across his face. The tears that had begun to fall suddenly evaporated, as if annihilated by some great heat. No matter... he thought, trying his best to keep his gaze away as he turned to the door of the Alienage shack.

No matter how much I want to.

Cayne Mahariel walked out of the shack, his body shaking with desire and sadness. He had walked away once before and the scars still burned him. He took the pain, as he always had, and channeled it into something that would help him move on, something that would give him hope for the future.

It is Merrill he will fight for, her, and so many others like her. She will not be the last Cayne will abandon in the face of what is to come.

But she will be one of the ones he will keep within his heart, no matter what.

A sound outside.

Merrill looked around with a start. "Is somebody there?" She wondered aloud. Merrill hurried to the door, not noticing how her hands trembled as they reached for the lock. She pulled the pins back and opened the door, wincing as light filled her vision.

"Hey there, Daisy." Varric laughed, leaning against Merril's door frame, "Guess who I found sulking around Hightown without a cute elf on his arm?"

Merrill looked up and saw him, him. The man she loved more than anything was standing there, in front of her, smiling. He was there and suddenly Merrill knew everything was going to be okay.

She loved him, and that was all that mattered.

"Oh I dunno, Varric," Hawke said smugly, his eyes winking with mischief between his scruffy black beard and messy hair, "I think I'd be doing most of the nobility a favor by pretending to be normal for a change."

Varric chuckled warmly. "Oh, but the things people say about you and Daisy here, Hawke. Hilarious things. I'll spare you the details, but sufficed to say some of the rumors floating around would make your hair stand on end. And not in good way."

Hawke laughed and Merrill's heart nearly stopped. "Oh, what fun we're going to have." He looked at her, his eyes gentle and loving. "Got everything ready, Merrill? You've got a fun day ahead of you, watching your man get all sweaty moving your things."

Merrill couldn't say anything even if she had wanted to. Instead, she smirked and placed a hand on Hawke's chest before standing on her toes to give him a long, heated kiss.

Hawke's eyebrows jumped in surprise. The kiss was sweet and tasted of every desire he could think of. The moment of surprise was quickly lost as Hawke returned the kiss, wrapping his hands around Merrill's waist as he drew her closer.

Varric rolled his eyes. "Mages."

Hawke broke the kiss, hating himself for it. "Okay," he said, his breath more than a little heavy, "Why don't we get your things moved? After that, well... we can continue our previous line of thought."

Merrill giggled. "Oh, then I suppose you'd better hurry. Can't keep me waiting too long, now can you?"

Hawke all but sprinted into Merrill's house, grabbing as many boxes as he could manage without sending all of Merrill's things crashing to the floor. He huffed out the door, straining with the weight of his cargo before dropping it all into a mule-drawn cart nearby. "Well then," Hawke said, panting, "Shall we get a move on?"

Varric rubbed the space between his eyes with a weary hand. "Hawke... there are still more boxes inside."

Hawke sighed and looked at his friend and the woman he loved. "This is going to take longer than I want it to, isn't it?"

Merrill laughed and placed a comforting hand on Hawke's arm. "Maybe it will go faster if we help? After all, we're all in this together, aren't we?"

Hawke laughed. "Of course we are. Always."

Verric groaned. "Oh, if only the Maker would spare me these sappy moments of yours. Seriously, I'd rather keep my recently-eaten lunch in my stomach, thank you."

A flash of movement in the corner of Merrill's eye caused her to turn. Elven stature, red eyes.

"Mahariel?" Her voice was the smallest of whispers.

Nothing. Not even a shadow of a shadow.

Merrill turned back to Hawke, her eyes downcast. "I thought..."

"Everything alright?" he asked, concerned.

Merrill shook her head. "It's nothing. Just... just something from a long time ago." She looked up at him, her loving green eyes locking with his caring brown ones. "I love you, Hawke."

Hawke held her close, melding his warmth with hers. "I love you too, Merrill. Always."

They turned, hand in hand, and walked back into what would soon be Merrill's former home. Varric followed them, grumbling something about disgustingly cute morons as he did so.

None of them, not the human, the elf, or the dwarf, noticed the figure standing in the shadows. They couldn't have.

Morrigan would not allow it.

"Is it done?"

Cayne Mahariel scowled angrily. "You know it is done. Why do you bother asking?"

Morrigan met his cold red gaze and did not flinch. She was hardly more than a feminine shadow with yellow eyes. Even so, there was no mistaking her. Cayne knew her more than anyone should ever know another being.

"I ask because I must, Cayne," the witch said smoothly. "You are the one who told her too much. Thankfully, she will remember nothing." She frowned and crossed her arms. "I would not need to bother if you did not insist on these ridiculous meetings. What do you hope to gain from this nonsense? Can you not simply let go of your past?"

Cayne's fists clenched and he took a step towards Morrigan. "No, I suppose I cannot. Would you have me do so? Would you have me abandon everything that I am, everything that I have done, and run? Would you have me forget those I care the whole of Thedas for? Would you have me throw you away as well? What of our son?"

Morrigan's voice lost some of its accusatory tone. "Cayne-"

Cayne cut her off. "I can, you know. I can walk out of your life forever, if you desire it. All you have to do is tell me such. I will leave you, forever."

Morrigan's eyes saddened. "I do no want that, Cayne. That is the last thing I would ever want."

Cayne looked away, unable to meet her eyes. "Do not goad me, Morrigan. I tire of this bickering. I love you. I do not wish for that to end. We still have a long road ahead of us."

Morrigan was silent for a moment. "What was she to you, Cayne? Did you pine for her? Did you love her?"

Cayne closed his eyes. "What she was to me... is no longer important. All that remains are a few good memories... and thoughts of what might have been." He looked over at Morrigan, his eyes sharing the sadness in hers. "I have sacrificed too much today. I do not wish any more anger or loss. Not from the ones I love."

She kissed him then, and he accepted it with tired lips. It was not a passionate kiss, but one shared in loss and love and helplessness. They both knew what was to come. It would mean the end of so much.

And in the end, all they had was each other.

He looked into her eyes, pleading. "Please, my love."

"Take me from this place. Please. Emma ir abelas."

Morrigan nodded and the two embraced, dark souls lost in sacrifice and sadness. They faded into the shadows, and Cayne Mahariel left behind all the things that might have been.

-The Eulogy of the Dalish-

Verse 1:

hahren na melana sahlin (elder your time has come)

emma ir abelas (now I am filled with sorrow)

souver'inan isala hamin (weary eyes need resting)

vhenan him dor'felas (heart has become gray and slow)

in uthera na revas (in waking sleep is freedom)

Verse 2:

vir sulahn'nehn (we sing, we rejoice)

vir dirthera (we tell the tales)

vier samahl la numin (we laugh and cry)

vir lath sa'vunin (we love one more day)

LM here,

Okay, so this one's been something of a chore. It's been sitting in my projects box for ages, but I haven't gotten around to finishing it until now. I like it a lot, simply because I think Merrill is adorable and fun to write, but I also really enjoyed working on the development of Cayne Mahariel (Dalish Grey Warden, slayer of Archdemon Urthemiel, Commander of the Grey and the one who killed the Architect, the Mother, and a whole army of darkspawn at Vigil's Keep). He and Morrigan ran off together and it never really got explained. So, being the fanboy that I am, I decided to explain my version of what I think happened. Cayne was always sentimental, and I imagined him going back and seeing all the people he cared about. Everybody who played a M!Dalish Warden knows that there may or may not have been something going on between him and Merrill, and I decided to make that a real situation. Happy endings suck, and Cayne is just going to have to deal with that.

Oh, and I got the info for the Dalish Eulogy from the Dragon Age wiki pages. If you want to see it there, along with a lot of translated elvish, just search 'Elvish' on the site. They've done a fantastic job grouping all that info together.

Anyway, hope you've enjoyed this small tribute. This may or may not lead to a DA2 fanfic, I still haven't decided yet. Regardless, thanks for reading, and as always, review if you liked it!

Keep on keeping on,

Levi Matthews

PS. And yes, my Hawke is the pre-set model that they used for the game's cover. I'm too lazy to come up with my own character models. (Mostly cuz they look like mutants when I'm done with them.) XD