AN: Greetings, fellow readers! I became a tad obsessed with this pairing after a certain wonderful person introduced me to the idea. *cough Bert-Wrighty cough* Speaking of which, if the name on this account is strange, take a look at the profile and see what this is about. Also, this was meant to make Bert scared a bit. Just a bit. :P
Do enjoy!
Things were going quite well for Hawke and her companions. Hawke had finally regained the Amell estate, the acclaimed Champion of Kirkwall now living in the esteemed district of Hightown. Her companions had made quite the celebration at her new home, booze and laughter swimming throughout the night. Her companions had also fared quite well, their coinpurses filling up quite nicely. A certain Rivaini pirate had been most delighted with her new allowance, even purchasing a nice set of new blades that she absolutely loved. Of course, that was only for her to know.
However, Isabela's mind was currently preoccupied with something else. Her favorite kitten had gone missing, at least as far as she knew. Isabela knew Merrill still had the ball of twine Varric had given her; quite a few incidents had happened with that twine, such as filling the entirety of the Alienage with string and scaring the neighborhood. The pirate decided it was time for a little home visit.
That is, if the house could even be called such a thing. Hawke really needed to do something about that. All that money could surely help in some way. She made a mental note of reminding Hawke of this. Isabela knocked twice on the door, the night wind being her only answer. After the third knock, she grew quite worried.
"Kitten?" Isabela called. "Merrill, are you in there?"
Faintly, a cough reached the rogue's trained ears and slow, seemingly sluggish footfalls were heard. The door croaked as it opened, the sight that met the pirate surprising her. Merrill was wrapped up in a blanket, her usually large, gleaming eyes hooded and slightly red, as was her nose. Her shaking hands held a cup of something hot, steam rising slowly from the container. Those bloodshot eyes widened before a loud sneeze escaped from the tiny elf's lips, nearly coating the Rivaini pirate in mucus had she not moved quickly enough.
"By the Dread Wolf…" Merrill's voice came, her usually cheery accent now low and raspy. "Just take me already…"
"Oh, my sweet!" Isabela exclaimed, walking into the house, the elf wrapped in her arms. She kicked the door closed and led the coughing Merrill into her bedroom, gently laying her down on the sorry excuse of a bed, the cup of what looked like tea being placed on a nearby tattered table.
"I seriously need to tell Hawke…" Isabela muttered. "What happened, Kitten?" She asked the elf, who was shaking on the bed.
"Oh, I don't know. I woke up like… like…. ACHOO!" Merrill sniffed before continuing. "Creators… I woke up like this yesterday."
Isabela pondered her options. Merrill was alone and if she needed anything or if her illness worsened, no one would be there to help her. Yet she needed some kind of medicine, and Isabela was no mage. Seconds flew and she decided to do what she thought best. At least, she thought it was the best thing to. She seriously hoped she was right.
"You can't stay here alone, Kitten. I'll bring Anders here, ask him to see what he can give you. Meanwhile," she reached for the still warm cup of liquid, "I believe you were about to drink this."
As gently as she possibly could, the pirate lifted Merrill's head, allowing her to take a small sip of the liquid, being very careful the elf didn't get burned in the process.
"Ma serranas, Bela. You're so nice to me." Merrill muttered lowly, her voice drifting as she laid back down, her eyelids growing heavier. Isabela tucked the elf in more blankets she found in a wardrobe, leaving her sleeping, an occasional soft cough escaping the slightly parted lips. She hated herself for leaving Merrill alone, but it would only be a moment. Anders's clinic wasn't that far; if she hurried, she would take less than half an hour. Double checking on the sleeping elf, Isabela watched as Merrill's chest rose and fell slowly, weakly almost. Messy chestnut strands of hair fell down her face, partially covering her beautiful vallaslin, a word that the little elf had taught her once. Her usually pink cheeks were pale, their color lost to the illness.
I should hurry. Balls, I hope nothing happens while I'm gone. Hang on, Merrill.
"Move it, Anders!" Isabela called behind her as they entered the Alienage. Several torches were lit outside the homes, giving a small amount of light to the streets. All homes except Merrill's, whose wooden door stood dark and barely visible. That did not deter the pirate from nearly tearing the door down as she entered, Anders eyeing her oddly. Isabela merely ignored the stare and hurried him up more once they were in the Dalish elf's bedroom.
Anders laid glowing hands on Merrill's forehead, waking her up as the magic coursed through her. Merrill muttered something neither the pirate nor Anders understood; it seemed to be in Elvish. She muttered continuously under her breath, and she began to shiver violently against the ex-Warden's hands.
"Anders, what's happening to her?" Isabela yelled, fear rising to her chest.
"She's convulsing, I'm trying to stop it!"
Balls! I shouldn't have left her!
"Help me hold her down, Isabela! She might get hurt!"
Andraste's tits, if something happens to you Kitten because of me…
As suddenly as the shaking came, it stopped, leaving a motionless Merrill lying atop her bed.
No…