When the Last Star Goes Out
By ReaverPoet

Pairings: Merrill/Meredith
Rating: M
Complete?: Yes
Warnings: brief torture (non-consensual), Lesbian kissing
Disclaimer: No copyright challenge is intended. Not distributed for money.
Summary: Knight Commander Meredith saves Merril from torture on the last remaining evening of the Templar's sanity.
Archive: yes, but do not edit in any way, and keep all headings.
Feedback to: ReaverPoet-da . Flames, trolls, and general meanness will be completely ignored.

"Seeker, you look bored. Could it be that making me tell the same bit of story for the fifth time, so that you can make sure the details don't change, is not as much fun for you as it is for me?"

A smile flashed over the Seeker's face briefly, looking foreign and unpracticed. "It's possible, Varric, that I have less interest in some parts of the story that you and I have revisited a few times."

"Perhaps I might be permitted to amuse us both with another little story about the Champion's friend Merril-even though it is a bit off the path we are travelling together?"

"Is it another torrid tale set in a brothel?"

"Why no, Seeker. This story takes place late at night in the very respectable and upright Gallows. It is a story about Knight Commander Meredith."

"I suppose that does sound of interest."

"If I may be permitted, I would like to tell it from the viewpoint of Meredith, even though I heard it from Merrill. As a device to help engage my slightly-bored-to-tears audience?"

"I suppose that will be acceptable."

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I couldn't sleep.

More and more, the sword's eerie song would wake me just on the brink of sleep. Even if I managed to doze off briefly, it would be dreams of blood, fear, and terrible things in the darkness.

I could never sleep, so I walked the Gallows. Paced through every office and gallery, checked on every guard station. I read the day's logs and made notes in the margins. I checked the stewards provision records. I visited every cell and tried the door.

I kept myself busy, so I could keep from going to the sword.

Oh, I knew, with fading sanity, that the sword was evil. I knew I had misjudged it's power, and underestimated its malignity. I knew I was enthralled, and that my mind crawled with unclean, eldritch thoughts that were not truly mine. I knew, but could do nothing to resist. I could not even force myself to ask for help. Each time I approached Elthina to warn her, or beg for aid, a wave of pride from the sword, corrupted my intent, and I kept silent.

All I could do was distract myself, to slow the poisonous thing that slithered through my mind.

I was examining the walls of a sub-basement well after midnight, looking for the source of a water leak, when I heard her scream. I ran, scrabbling through the cobwebs of little used passages, trying to discern which set of chambers the sound had come from. When I heard the whip, and a second, weaker scream, I knew I was close. The young, drunken Templar had not even bothered to lock the door-we were so far down below the Gallows, and the hour was so late. I burst in to see his whip falling on the naked elf girl, helpless and half dead. I caught the blow on my armored forearm and backhanded the boy to the ground.

"I am very certain, Templar, that you are about to offer me an excellent explanation for why you are inflicting unsanctioned harm on this girl, secretly, in the dead of night," I said, my anger barely restrained.

"She's an apostate," he slurred. "A slutty little apostate who follows after the Champion, thinking herself untouchable. I caught her skulking around the gardens of the Viscount's palace. She's my prisoner. Mine." He waved a page of the log book at me. It had been torn loose from the binding. "See, I wrote it all up. Then I thought, maybe I should question her a little, first. Before everyone gets a chance. You know-loosen her up."

I snatched the page from his hand. "You will leave this place and report to your commanding officer. Wake him up, if you must. Tell him that I have put you under arrest for gross violation of Templar procedure. A hearing will be held tomorrow. Fail to do as I have instructed you, and you will be executed tonight, with no hearing. Do you understand?"

The boy nodded, suitably terrified, and ran off into the passage behind us. I turned my attention on the girl. I recognized her as one of the Champion's companions. Her eyes were open, but possessed of no clarity. A knot of bloody hair on the side of her head showed me how the drunken fool had managed to capture her-he had knocked her unconscious, and she had probably not awoken until she was in this dark place. Her naked body was covered in blood, so that it was hard to tell where her other wounds were.

I gathered her in my arms, as gently as possible. She stirred only a little, grateful for the reprieve from pain. I could not have taken her to my office without passing sentries, and I suddenly felt as though I wanted to shield her from that scrutiny. I took her to my chambers, and laid her on my bed.

I fetched water, and a bitter healing potion made from elfroot. I managed to get a little sip of the potion into her, but then she coughed it up immediately.

"You need to swallow this, little elf," I said, softly. "You are gravely injured."

She whimpered in protest. I decided it would be best to clean and bandage her wounds, to prevent her from further blood loss, until I could give her the potion. I rinsed the blood off her body carefully, exposing her injuries. One by one, I cleaned them off and bandaged them. She shuddered from the pain, even though I tried to be gentle.

As I was cleaning the head wound, she opened her eyes, seeming to see me. "Hawke," she murmured. "Are we home? Come to bed. Come kiss me."

Not truly awake, I concluded. Her head wound must have been very bad indeed. It gave me an idea, though. Not, perhaps, the most orthodox of medical means, but one does what one must. I took a swallow of the elfroot potion in my mouth and kissed the elf. I have been a Templar for many years, but one doesn't truly forget how to kiss, and her lips were soft and eager. I made it a thorough kiss, to distract from the taste of the potion. She swallowed the little dose and I broke the kiss to take some more of the potion in my mouth. I kissed her again and again. With each kiss, I could see her injuries healing, her eyes focusing a bit more.

I knew she was finally fully aware when she pulled away from our kiss and flung herself, terrified, against my headboard, grabbing at my blankets to cover herself.

"You're the Knight Commander. That's who you are. The Templar. I'm in the Gallows! Why am I here? What do you want with me. Also, um, why was I kissing you?"

I backed away from the bed, to make her feel safer. I showed my hands, so she would know I wasn't armed. "Don't be afraid. I am, indeed, Knight Commander Meredith, but I am not going to harm you."

"You're not? Errr. Of course not, right? Because you only kill apostates, and I'm just an innocent elf girl, right?" she nattered, trying to look even more wide-eyed.

I couldn't help myself—I laughed. "Merrill-it's Merrill, correct? Merrill, there have been dozens of witnesses from all parts of the city, happy to come to me and report your use of magic, in exchange for a few pennies. I pay them off, and destroy the paperwork. The state of the city is tenuous enough without a war between the Champion and the Knight Commander."

"Ohhhhhh-kay," she said, processing this, and reappraising her position. "And, so we were kissing because?"

"One of my younger Templars, clearly unsuited for the vocation, took you prisoner without my authorization or knowledge. I found him beating you to death in a sub-basement. He will be harshly disciplined. In any case, you needed healing, and I found no other way to make you swallow the elfroot. I apologize for the imposition."

"Well…I suppose it was necessary. I hope it wasn't too unpleasant for you to kiss…you know, someone like me."

"A beautiful girl? No, not too unpleasant at all. Reminded me of kinder days, when I myself was young."

"I meant an apostate," she clarified.

I looked down at her a moment, and then carefully sat on the end of the bed. "Merrill, I don't hate mages. I do what I do to protect mages, and everyone else, from demons. It's difficult to remember who the real enemy is sometimes, but I do try."

"Well, if you don't mind me saying, it does seem like hate sometimes."

Her accusation hit home, and for a second the sword's thoughts drowned out mine. A miasma of rage and pride threatened to overwhelm out my true feelings. Discipline failed me; I could not force the feelings away. I thought about Merrill's lips and the warmth of her mouth under mine. The sword grew quiet.

I stood up, and went to my window, breathing in the night air. Clouds covered most of the sky, but a lone, bright star peeked out from them.

"I have erred," I said, quietly. "I should have had faith in my calling, and instead I tried to use a power that now uses me. Since that day, I have watched the stars in my sky be extinguished, one by one. Now, I live in fear of the time when the last star goes out. I know I will be alone in the terrible darkness."

I could hear covers falling to the floor behind me, but I didn't turn. She reached for me and turned me to face her.

"What do you see, Merrill?" I asked.

"Myself, maybe. I see a cracked mirror. It scares me, and …there's pity too. You don't mind that, do you?"

I kissed her again, then, and she kissed me back, wide awake. As if I were a whole woman, again, clean of all corruption. As if my sky were a riot of stars.

I steadied myself. My mind seemed clearer than it had been in months. I found her a robe to wear, and brought her through side passages to a little used gate. The guard was unconscious, already. At the gate, we found the drunken Templar who had captured Merrill. He had his belongings in a bundle, and he was trying to force the lock with his sword. I seized his head from behind and cut his throat, so that he fell in a heap in front of the elf.

"No hearing, then," I murmured. "Your choice."

I stroked the side of her soft face, and ushered her out the gate, with directions to the Champion's house. I could already hear the sword again, it's voice rising in my head.

I burned the page from the night's log book, as I shed my very last tear.

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"I'm shocked, Varric—did you somehow forget the part where they had sex in the Gallows chapel, right on the altar?"

"You jest, Seeker, but as I did not invent this adventure, I did not feel at liberty to add a spicy but blasphemous tryst. "

"You invented quite a lot of other details, though, didn't you."

"A few, yes. But If you ever catch Merrill, you will find some scars on her body that corroborate the story. And if the log book from that night wasn't destroyed in the battles between mages and Templars, you will find that evening's page missing."

"I have a team cataloguing Meredith's belongings. I will ask them to look for the log book. Meanwhile, Varric, let us return to the Champion's story. The same place where we left off."

"As you wish, Seeker."