No one sought her out for the rest of the afternoon, to her immense relief. She sensed Hawke had a hand in it. She barely knew him, but he seemed to have the most un-sentimental, practical view of the odd turn their lives had all taken, and she was grateful. She had been feeling like she had no time to herself, no time to sit and adjust and try to take stock of her situation. Orsino had given her a lot to think about, and she sat quiet and contemplative in front of the fire for long hours with her books, blocking out the sounds of conversation and laughter downstairs. When the sunlight started fading and she began to hear the distant, distinct sounds of the kitchen getting prepared for dinner, she started worrying about the inevitable confrontation with the rest of the group. She was dreading the knock on the door, and was almost relieved when it finally came.
"It's Hawke." She exhaled.
"Got a moment?"
She started to get up, winced in pain, and gave up. "Come in."
Hawke came in quietly, his bearded face freshly clean, having changed out of all that obscene plate armor. He looked infinitely friendlier. He shut the door behind him. "Seemed like a good time to have a quick talk. You would have gathered that it was a bit of a – surprise – to find Orsino in my house."
"I shouldn't have talked to him, should I?"
"Oh no. Look, it's more complicated than that." He sat in the furthest chair, leaning forward to prop his elbows on his knees. "Kirkwall lost its ruling Viscount in an attempted Qunari takeover a year ago. Ever since then, the Knight Commander, who runs the Templars, has been effectively ruling the city. Orsino represents the mages, and is all that stands between her and the wholesale slaughter of the Circle." He sighed. "As such, he has enemies. Huge amounts. And associating with him, therefore, can be dangerous." He grimaced. "I hate to say this, because for the most part Orsino is a decent, intelligent man. But he's also frequently a desperate man. And one in an intolerable position. Do you follow?"
She nodded, carefully. "It's his situation, not him himself."
"Exactly. And that's worth remembering. If information he gets from you benefits his cause or his people, he will use it. And on that note – will you tell me what he learned from you?"
She winced. "It was mostly about me. He recognized that I wasn't from here, and asked about my origins."
"What did you tell him?"
"The truth. He was perplexed as to why you'd take such a stranger into your house."
Hawke scratched his chin. "Did he talk about any of the others?"
"Anders, briefly. But only said what he knew of him, didn't ask questions. And –" Lily tried to anticipate Hawke's reaction. "He invited me to the circle. To visit the library."
Hawke stared at her, confused. "Why?"
"To help looking into the amnesia. He offered to assist me magically, but said I should talk to you about that first."
"He's right." Hawke considered. "There's – issues involved. With tampering with a person's mind. It can go very badly. And we can't disregard the possibility that your amnesia may have a purpose."
She stared at him. "What do you mean?"
"I know it's been a shock, but you've coped with all this very – very – well. Do you think you'd be dealing so well if you'd been wrenched out of a world and family who you knew were missing you? I'd imagine it'd be traumatic."
She was cold. "I suppose that's true."
"Think about it. The decision is ultimately yours. Fenris can tell you all about how badly lost memories returning can damage things." He froze, then winced. "Look. I respect your privacy and all, but I do need to know if I need to haul Fenris through the coals after last night."
She went immediately red. "You – heard."
"Well – maybe a little, but I was referring to the fact he came downstairs with your blood all over his hands. We very nearly had an incident with the others." He sighed, scratching his head. "I'm reserving judgment until I hear it from you. I've talked to Anders – no, don't be angry at him, he has to report injuries to me – and he has a very wronged-damsel attitude towards it. I'm aware things can be more complicated than that. And I know Fenris. He's not a rapist." Hawke gave her a measured look, and she was relieved to see no pity, sympathy or judgment on his face. He looked as if he were enquiring after a leg wound. It was reassuring. She took a deep breath. "I did get hurt, but it was – a bad decision on my part. It was an awkward process for both of us. At a certain point I suggested we just – push past that point." She looked away uncomfortably. "It was a bad idea. And I bled. It was my fault."
"But – he bit you."
"Oh. Um, yes. I think it was intended to distract me from the pain." She touched it self-consciously. "It worked."
He winced. "I'm sorry you had to go through this, Lily."
"It was a strange night, but I'm certainly not traumatized. Yet." She managed a smile.
Hawke nodded. "I'm relieved. I haven't seen Fenris today. I don't think he's going to emerge again until I go reassure him that he didn't tear you in half or something. He's his own worst enemy." He stood. "We're all downstairs having a drink. Why don't you come down?"
She wavered, unsure how best to refuse. "Look. I'm not really comfortable-"
"You've been in seclusion all day. You can't avoid us forever. And no one's going to be grotesque enough to talk about it in a group. Give us some credit."
She sighed. "I hope you're not expecting me to be a riveting conversationalist."
"All you have to do is be there. Let us do the rest. And if it helps, I think there are people who might be extremely relieved to see you emerge from your hiding place."
She hadn't really been thinking about Anders and Zevran. She felt a pang of guilt. "Okay." She got to her feet painfully, and he took her elbow with a flinch of sympathy. "I'm suddenly glad I forbade Isabela from telling any filthy jokes tonight."
She was endlessly grateful for Varrics immediate launch into the bawdiest, stupidest story she'd ever heard as soon as she appeared on the landing. Hawkes hand on her elbow was reassuring, and she was bonelessly relieved at how careful everyone seemed to be to not pay her too much attention. Zevran had his back to her, propped lazily up against the fireplace, those massive blades on his back glinting, and he looked back over his shoulder at her, giving her a soft smile and faint nod before looking back at Varric, and something in her stomach relaxed. She could feel Anders' eyes on the side of her head, and felt a sick moment of dread before looking across to him. He was sitting in the far corner of the lounge, hands knotted in front of him, an image of tense concern. He looked horrified, and she realized the limp probably looked worse than it felt. She gave him a hesitant smile, and he returned it, not looking that reassured. She made an executive decision, releasing Hawke's arm and moving towards Anders. He stood to meet her, eyes huge and full of worry. "Lily. Are you well?"
He held his hands in front of him, as if he wanted to touch her arm, come into her personal space. She was a little glad he wasn't giving in. "I am. Thank you for your concern." She could hear how stilted and awkward she sounded, and swallowed, reaching out to touch his sleeve. She was painfully conscious of everyone in the room pointedly ignoring them. "Will you sit with me? I've been taking it fairly easy and the stairs have winded me." It was an exaggeration, but he saw and understood the gesture, his face softening into a proper smile. He touched her elbow, the briefest brush of his fingertips. "I will. It's good to see you."
She sat beside him, her shoulder touching his, folding her hands in her lap, and she could feel the warm glow of his relief shining off him like the sun. She chanced a look sideways at Zevran, who had one hand curled over his mouth, eyes half lidded, his eyes met hers, and he gave her the slightest, almost imperceptible nod. She blinked, unsure how to interpret that. He was most certainly not piqued, or jealous, or even concerned. He looked infernally relaxed, even. She looked away, disconcerted. Varric was expansively wrapping up his story. As far as she could gather, it featured himself and a Varterral – she reminded herself to look that up – and Merrill was squealing with laughter, clapping and bouncing on her knees like a frog in a box. It was adorable. "You are so good!" She breathed, the squeak of giggles still in her throat. "Why doesn't anything like that ever happen to me?"
Varric rolled his eyes up to the roof. "It did. The Dalish mage? That's you, you daft wench."
"Me? I don't remember fireballs rising from the floor! Or the golden elven prince saving us from the roof collapse!"
"I believe the fireballs were originating from Anders, and the golden elven prince may be me. But I doubt the roof was really ready to collapse. It was just fun to see you all run." Zevran winked at Merrill, who had given herself hiccups. Lily decided she liked the elven girl. She was almost simple, but so delightful to be around it could be overlooked. Merrill laid twinkling eyes on Lily. "All his stories are like that. They're so far from the truth I get caught out and look like a big fool."
"You calling me a liar, Daisy?" Varric asked, arching one bushy eyebrow. She laughed, folding her hands around her knees. "Oooh, no. Never."
"I should hope not." Varric looked across at Lily. "And welcome downstairs, Miss. I've heard it's preferable to upstairs. Let me know. I don't believe I've ever been allowed up there."
"I'm not letting you go through my cupboards, Varric." Hawke said, amused. "You're enough of a stickybeak as it is."
Lily's eyes had drifted back to Merrill, sitting crosslegged on the fur rug, happily content and so small and pretty she looked like an odd, tattooed doll. Her eyes were strange, and Lily was unsure what was different about them. She was glazed, her focus wavering, flickering like a candleflame. She went still, suddenly, and Lily froze. She touched Anders' leg. "Merrill?" She asked cautiously. "Are you all right?"
Everyone went still, silence dropping over the room like a blanket. Merrill had started to shake, very subtly at first, and then violently, as if she was naked in a snowstorm. It was Varric who snapped out of it first. "Oh, Maker, not again-" He dropped to his knees, catching her as she flopped sideways before she hit the floor. Anders turned to Hawke, eyes panicked. "We need to get Lily out of here. Now."
Hawke shook his head shortly, eyes on Merrill. "No. If she has something to say, it will concern her."
Lily's heart was thudding. She realized she was about to see, first hand, the visitation of the witch who'd haunted her dreams, cast her into this mess, and quite possibly dragged her from her world into this one. Anders touched her hand, and she grasped it without hesitation. Merrill took a deep, shuddering breath, and Varric carefully extracted himself, laying her out on the fur and backing away. There was a silent moment, the only sound the horrible rattle of her breathing, and then her eyes snapped open. They were a horrible, reptilian yellow. She stood, slowly, as if she were suspended on wires and merely draped from horizontal to vertical, nothing so much as an elbow hitting the floor. She stood, perfect and self-possessed, somehow huger in feel and presence than the tiny form of Merrill. She sighed deeply, stretching. "Ah. This is a body I'll miss."
The voice was deep, an old woman's, with the husk and purr of hundreds of years. Hawke took a step closer, his arms folded. "This is not appreciated, Flemeth."
"Oh, dear boy. You know I act from necessity."
"You deeply disturb her."
"Regrettable, surely. But my options are limited. Your apostate has very little room left in his head for visitors." She laughed nastily, and Anders tensed next to her. Hawke making a noise of dismissal. "I want your word you will not visit us in this manner again."
"In time, Hawke, in time. I had to visit in person to make sure important things were carried out. I'm sure you can appreciate." The yellow eyes snapped across to Lily, and she felt all the blood drain from her face. "You. Stand."
Anders grip on her tightened, and she had to clasp his arm with her other hand to get him to release her. She looked to Hawke, who gave her the slightest nod. Her feet were unsteady. She clenched her hands into her skirts, meeting her eyes. Merrill tilted her head, considering. "Hm. Lovely. I'm going to make a wild assumption, based on those bite marks and that nasty limp, that you boys enjoyed yourselves." She inspected her nails as Lily felt increasingly sicker. She swallowed.
"Do you have something to say to me?"
Flemeth considered her. "To the point. I appreciate that. Don't think I have no consideration for what this costs you. I have done something similar myself. As has my daughter. As will hers after her. It is a divine task, something worthy of a fine mind and healthy body. I'm going to assume you have both. It is a little hard to tell when you are as stunned and mangled as you are." She took a step forward, too fast for Lily to reflexively step back, and spread a hand onto her stomach. She could feel the cold of it burn through her clothes, and she gasped. There was a shuffle of movement behind her, and she wasn't brave enough to look behind her and see who'd tried to intervene. Merrills face was drawn, concentrating, incredulity, confusion, then finally amusement spreading across her delicate features. She let out a peal of laughter, stepping back. "Oh, precious."
"What?" Lily snapped, reflexively folding her arms across her belly.
"You see, it was uncharacteristic of me to have had such an unclear vision. To specify a time and place, but not a father? Very strange. And it turns out – the vision was extremely accurate." She flicked her eyes around the room, ensuring that she had everyone's attention. "You're going to love this."
"I'm growing tired of this, Flemeth." Hawke growled. "Have some pity on the girl and spit it out."
She sighed. "You are pregnant, child."
Lily exhaled, hard. She realized she hadn't been entirely convinced it would happen until it was spelled out for her.
"Do you know the father?" Hawke asked.
"I do." Merrill smiled. "It is all three."
Lily went cold. "That's ridiculous." She snapped. "You're lying."
"Oh, it isn't ridiculous. Just highly unlikely. Consider yourself blessed. It has been many centuries since I have seen triplets. How strange. And special." She turned to Hawke. "You have my word I will not return to your companions. I will, however, return if I am not satisfied with your care of her." The eyes closed, and Merrill crumpled into Varric's waiting arms. A great weight left the room, and Lily staggered, her blood roaring in her ears. She felt Hawke's hand on her arm, at a great distance, heard his voice but not what he said. She was cold suddenly, and falling, aware of someone else's arms around her before she fainted.
