"Oh, look! This one had dice in his pocket and Antivan brandy in the sack! I wish he would have mentioned that before I dispatched him. He was surely the funny one." Isabela was grinning contently and indulged herself with a generous gulp of liquor.

Varric was standing by the black horse, trying to stabilize the lyrium bags on its back. He turned to Isabela who was rifling happily through the dead bodies scattered across the clearing. "Hey! Pass that bottle, Rivaini. I could use some stupefying drink right now. You know – before we all die for messing with the Coterie."

"I swear I heard something like 'I wish to never see you again' last time we met, witch." Samael was leaning toward the old oak, sneering at her and cleaning his fingernails with his dagger. The fresh blood splatters on the weapon didn't bother him, it seemed. The puppy was rolling in the dirt, trying desperately to scratch its back, making funny noises in the process.

"Don't get the wrong idea, Hawke. I'm here because Varric begged me for two hours. He seemed desperate when you told him you intended to ambush the Coterie courier delivering a huge amount of raw lyrium from Orzammar to Kirkwall. I don't blame him, he thought a healer was needed in the group because people don't toy with the Coterie and live, usually. And since Anders is scared shitless of you…" Merrill narrowed her sparkling eyes and clenched her staff tighter. If Samael wasn't such an ignorant ass all the time, he would have noticed he would do better if he stayed away from Merrill today.

"And here I thought your body just requires blood-letting periodically." Samael snapped back at her.

Merrill felt she was absolutely at the end of her patience and loyalty. Her Keeper had taught her well and she was bright and grateful apprentice. She had been a kind and responsible girl once, ready to help anybody who asked. But not anymore. She was banished from her clan for her actions, forced to abandon all she knew, all she loved. Kirkwall was a cold place and she hated her new home in alienage. The only thing that kept her going was her friends.

It was Isabela who comforted her when she felt her life was falling apart. It was Varric who kept an eye on her all the time and provided her safety from Lowtown raider gangs. It was Aveline, who helped her hide herself from Templars and who looked away when she used her blood mage abilities.

And then there was HIM. She was drawn to him unwillingly since she had met him on slopes of the Soundermount. He was rude all the time, a drunk, a womanizer, and she was mad about him. She had tried several times not to come for a job when she was called, but her willpower failed each time and all she could think about was that she will see him again soon.

Nobody had ever hurt her in so many ways as him and she hated him for that and loved him at the same time. Occasionally she was able to peer behind that sardonic and merciless mask he wore, and to her astonishment she found there a broken soul with dreadful past and no future. After a year of this madness, she saw similarities in their lives she wasn't aware of before. They were both driven away from their homes and all the people they loved, all things they had taken for granted were taken away from them. They were tossed into Kirkwall and left there to cope with the reality. The only difference between them was Merill had started to build her new life, made new friends and moved on, but Samael was stuck in the past, and refused to let anyone near him. But now her understanding and patience was at end and she couldn't bear it anymore. She closed her eyes and decided to end it all.

"Isabela, Varric, take that horse and GET OUT." They both glanced at Merrill utterly surprised about the authority and cold in her voice. They haven't seen her this way before. Varric raised an eyebrow at Hawke in a mute question. Samael snickered ominously and waved his hand.

"You've heard the lady. Go. And don't worry, I'll bring her remains to the Hanged Man tonight, so you could patch her up. Oh and take the puppy with you. I don't want him to have some puppy-hood issues caused by what is going to happen here." Samael came unstuck from the tree and stretched his body. Isabela wanted to object, but Varric pushed her down the path to Kirkwall, taking the reins in hand.

Merrill was waiting for them to disappear around the bend of the path. Samael was gaping at her, self-complacent smug on his face, his daggers already en garde.

"Deciding to take vengeance on your provider, are we?" Oh, Samael really shouldn't have said that. He was wallowing in the dirt before he could react, knocked down with the stonefist. He slowly stood up guffawing and groping his chest where the spell hit him. Merrill was standing in her fighting stance fifty feet away from him, panting and fuming. If the silly girl wants to play games with him, she must prepare herself for the consequences.

Samael stalked slowly to her with a teasing grin on his lips, their eyes were locked. When he was close enough, he slowly raised his right hand and playfully prodded at her staff with his dagger. Merrill was already piqued, but this little innocent gesture made her furious. She swung her staff, trying to knock the dagger out of his hand. Samael pulled back a bit and made an unexpected sideswipe. Merrill shifted to dodge it, but she wasn't fast enough. The dagger nicked her arm. She hissed and the pain fueled her next attack. They fought silently, testing each other, estimating their abilities. Merrill was becoming tired, she was no warrior after all. She tried to freeze him, but Samael knew her usual tactics and avoided the frozen place easily, grimacing at her.

"Come on, witch. Even I know you can do better than that." Samael's voice was quiet and deadly menacing now.

She felt another wave of anger flooding her mind and her hands exploded with blinding turquoise flames. The powerful pulse she released sent Samael staggering backwards and his vision was blurry. Merrill utilized this moment to pull back and keep some distance between them. Samael shook his head angrily, trying to regain his balance. He gloated over the fact that Merrill was obviously tiring and trying to magnify the gap between them. His hatred was smoldering inside him, and he was confused by the antagonistic feelings this witch had stirred.

He used his vendetta ability to close the distance between them. He didn't mean to stab her in her heart from behind, just to hurt her severely enough to end this charade. Although he had to admit it was quite tempting to kill her and end this torture. Merrill expected this move, and when Samael reappeared behind her she was ready and punched him with might and main in his belly with her staff. Alright, now she had managed to piss him off utterly. He attacked her ravenously and he wasn't testing her anymore. His lunges were vicious and if he managed to hit her now, it would be probably lethal. His daggers were slicing the air quicker and quicker and Merrill was parrying bravely but she knew she couldn't keep this up much longer. Merrill was sure she was going to die here by his hand and she resolved to get in one last hit, mustering all the courage and strength she had left.

She punched him in his crotch with her staff. Samael clearly wasn't expecting something that simple and yet… effective. He howled and tumbled on the dirt, his daggers lying next to him. He was still wincing in pain when she straddled him, pressing the razor end of her staff onto his neck. Very foolish, Merrill, he said to himself. In one second he flipped her over, jerking her staff out of her hands. He was lying on top of her now and holding her hands above her head with one hand, leaning on his elbow. He placed his other hand around her swanlike neck and squeezed hard. He was determined to finish her off, get her out of his life, out of his thoughts, out of his dreams… he would do anything right now just to end this madness he was experiencing since he met her.

Merrill was surprised she wasn't scared of death. Memories were flashing through her mind while she struggled for a breath. Why was his hand hesitating as it squeezed her throat? This was something he wanted to do from the very beginning, right? And now his desire will be satiated. They stared at each other for a brief moment and she saw his mask was gone. His eyes were filled with harrowing pain and doubts. She saw clearly the struggle he had inside of him.

"Do it."

Merrill managed to let out these two choked words. Samael expected her to beg for her life in tears, not to end it. He was looking at her as if he was seeing her for the very first time. Those two words caught him off guard and broke his mask into irreparable pieces.

Their lips met in one long devastating kiss. Samael knew this was wrong, but he couldn't stop himself. To his surprise Merrill kissed him back with the same frustration and despair he was feeling. He was the one who broke the kiss, but he stayed in the same position, looking into her widened eyes. He saw himself in them and the familiar green stars he loved so much.

Merrill slowly regained her senses and with senses came memories full of his insults and resentment. She closed her eyes and released one bright pulse of purple lightning which sent Samael flying backwards off her.

Maker! Did she just electrocute me? Was it that bad? On the other hand, I've had worse reactions to the kiss, I guess.

Samael hit the ground and his breath was knocked out of him. He groaned and tried to sit up, but his body wouldn't listen to this simple command. Merrill closed in and she was standing by Samael's head now. Her expression was indecipherable but her hands were trembling. Samael half expected she came to finish him off and he didn't care, but she remained motionless. He laughed mirthlessly and folded his hands behind his head completely at ease, looking at his tormentor.

"I would consider this a tie, if you don't mind, witch." Samael should really learn when to shut up.

Merrill was obviously thinking the very same thing and stormed out of the clearing.