"Watch where yer goin'!" a burly looking mercenary snapped as he stumbled drunkenly, smashing into the slight hooded figure who had just entered The Crown and Lion. The hooded figure uttered a feminine gasp as she hurried out of the mercenary's way and smacked in to the table of another patron. The bottles sitting there rattled dangerously. She apologized quickly for the upset, her voice nervous and faint enough that the brogue accent was nearly entirely disguised. The dwarf whose lap she had nearly tumbled in to simply grunted and pushed her away. She stumbled a bit as she struggled to regain her footing, but her clumsiness was short lived once she passed through the throng of patrons in the inn's entrance.

Merrill released a short but relieving puff of air as she approached the bar. "Never mind me," she muttered anxiously to herself, though she knew it was probably better that people didn't mind her…or what she said, or where she went. She'd sold her fancy staff and bought a nondescript hooded cloak for a reason, hadn't she? No one in Ferelden would sell her in to slavery simply because her ears were pointed and her face was covered in markings, but the Dalish didn't exactly inspire warm fuzzy feelings among the humans here either and she didn't need people remembering that she'd been here. She pulled the hood of her cloak down further as she sidled up to the bar.

"Evenin' friend," A deep bass voice rumbled from across the bar.

"Good evening," she replied uncertainly as she fidgeted with her hands. She kept them hidden beneath the bar—no need to let the man know just how nervous she actually was.

"Somethin' I can do for you?" he asked, cocking an eyebrow at what he likely perceived to be a shady figure…although, considering the mess she was making of keeping her cool, he probably thought she was some sort of bumbling inexperienced thief. No doubt the hard sounding man had more than enough ways to discourage that sort of behavior…but she needed to focus on what she came here for.

"A drink," she replied, willing her hands to stay still as she leaned on her elbows and folded her hands on the bar. "And a hot meal, and a room if you have one."

The innkeeper looked her over once, twice and then, "An' just how much trouble can I be expecting if I do?"

"Oh, none at all!" She hurried before squeaking at the unexpected volume of her voice. She lowered her voice to barely above a whisper before she continued. "I'll be on my way and out of your hair first thing in the morning…I'll pay double if you promise not to tell anyone."

He eyed her suspiciously for a moment longer, as if attempting to decide something—likely whether or not she was worth the potential suffering—before he nodded sternly and quickly poured her a cup of ale. "Fine," he agreed. "Let Sorcha know what you want to eat. Rooms are all booked up for the night, but there's space in the hay loft over the stables if it's just a space to sleep yer wantin'."

She nodded eagerly as she accepted the ale and took a long pull before realizing that the innkeeper hadn't moved away or taken his eyes off her yet. The scrutiny made her insides squirm and she knew it wouldn't be too long before her outsides followed suit and so she summoned her best Hawke impersonation and turned her head to stare straight back at the man. He couldn't see her eyes, but there'd be no mistaking where she was looking or why. The man grunted as he stuck his chin in the air but turned away all the same. Whatever mess he suspected she was in, he must've decided it clearly wasn't worth him sticking his nose in and getting it flattened, or cut off…or worse.

When the food came, she wolfed it down greedily. She hadn't had a good meal since Denerim and it was a hard two day's journey to Amaranthine on horseback with few waypoints in between. And she had never been much of a hunter. Most everything she managed to track and kill was burnt to a crisp by her magic long before she ever got a chance to prepare an actual meal out of it. It didn't even matter that the food in front of her was over salted, or that it had already cooled somewhat before it was placed in front of her, only that it wasn't charred fennec or burnt crow.

Lost in her thoughts, she didn't realize her food was gone until her fork clanked against her plate and she looked down to see nothing remaining. Her lips pursed in a slight pout as she set the fork down and pushed the plate to the side to await the Sorcha's return.

"Get enough to eat, Stranger?" Sorcha asked when she came for the plate. Merrill nodded and gave the waitress a muted smiled. "Anythin' else I can bring ya?"

Merrill paused a moment, wondering just how much she could ask these humans without revealing to much about her purpose. She supposed a friendly bar maid was probably safer to talk to than a suspicious innkeeper or the bartender who stood too close to said innkeeper to keep their conversation private. "I wonder…" Merrill began quietly before pausing to worry her bottom lip between her teeth.

Sorcha smiled sweetly and stepped in, apparently sensing Merrill's reluctance to speak openly.

"I wonder," Merrill started again. "If you've heard any news of elves?"

"Elves?" Sorcha asked, her eyebrows shooting up. "Supposin' you don't mean the ones livin' in Amaranthine, then…haven't heard nothin' about no elves in a long time," She replied, the curiosity in her eyes stronger than Merrill would have hoped.

"What do you mean?"

"Well there was a pack of them Dalish camped out in the Wendin' Wood some years back, but they was all killed by darkspawn right after the Blight," Sorcha provided. "Unless yer lookin' for the Warden Commander or that she-devil mage of hers."

Merrill shook her head, attempting to keep the movement subtle and unhurried and not to look as sick with fright as that suggestion made her. "No, no, not the Wardens…th-the elves I'm thinking of would have only just arrived perhaps a couple weeks ago. They must have gone another direction! I'll just be off to my room then. Thank you for the food, it was lovely!" So much for subtle and unhurried she thought as she slipped from her stool and made towards the exit. She needed to leave before she drew more attention to herself.

A soft hand reached out and grasped her arm before she could get far. Merrill turned back to see Sorcha's friendly but still far too curious eyes staring back. "You might as well try the old ruin in the Wendin' Wood. I've heard Dalish tend to camp in important places…well, important places to them anyway. If one clan used to camp there, could be a new one might go there too."

Merrill smiled nervously and nodded her thanks before beating a hasty exit for the hay loft. Creators, she was not made for this sort of thing! This was precisely why she had always left the talking to Hawke…but she supposed that was well and in the past so she'd have to figure out how to make do without a sophisticated friend to do all the talking.

The remainder of the night came and went without further incident and Merrill was awake and on the road again first thing in the morning…though that was only after awkward and stilted negotiations that required the surrender of most of her remaining coin. Once the coin was spent, however, she found herself hitching a ride with a merchant passing through the Wending Wood. He'd known what she was of course, in the bright light of day it was far more difficult to hide the vallaslin, or the spots on the hoot bulged a bit over her pointed ears…the merchant had taken the coin and given her that look shemlen tended to give when they were debating asking where a knife ear got so much coin. He kept, his mouth mercifully shut, apparently deciding he preferred not to know.

The cart she rode in was hardly anything worth noticing; a box on warped wheels that creaked and groaned with every bump in the road. The ride was hardly worth the money she had spent on it, and more than once Merrill had to swallow back the rising bile in the back of her throat. She would never curse the aravels again, she thought.

But when the ruined tower appeared around a bend in the path, something in her gut told her she was on the right track. The gold and torturous ride seemed entirely worth it for that moment of certainty. It was immediately clear to her why the location had been important to it's previous inhabitants; it was difficult to see at first, the Elvhen details—the ruin could've just as easily have been a Tevinter relic—but the gentle arch of the windows and the delicate, if time worn, carving of twisting and spiraling vines along the pillars was enough to tell her that it was in fact of ancient Elvhenan. It immediately brought to mind memories of the ruin that had changed the course of her and her clansmen's destinies forever.

She hopped off the cart as it passed by the walkway which spanned a stony gorge. It was a miracle she made it across the bridge, as her eyes were practically glued to the structure overhead. She even forgot to thank the merchant for the ride, though he seemed not to care and just kept right on creaking down the road. The tower was simply marvelous, and for a moment she was envious of the clan who had spent time here…what she could have learned in a place like this…

But no matter, she was here now and she would learn all she could while she was—assuming, of course that there was anything to learn…and that Fenarel didn't run her off, or kill her outright, when he found out she was hear. Of course, it was far more likely that Fenarel had taken the clan towards the Brecilian Forest, the exact opposite direction of Amaranthine. There were other clans in the Brecilian Forest that would be able to shelter children and elders far more effectively than the Grey Wardens could from their fortress a half day's journey away…and Keeper Lanaya had always been known to be one of the kindest women when she had been Zathrian's first. Merrill had to tamp down a flare of jealousy at the city elf that had ascended to a roll that she had not been born to. By all rights, Merrill should have been a Keeper by now and Lanaya should have grown up in one of the Chantry's circles…but that was unfair, Lanaya was a good keeper and Merrill's mistakes were her own to fix.

The foot road up the hill was old and well-worn and her first impulse had been to climb that path just like it would be for any other, but as she took one and then two steps in that direction, something tingled in the back of her mind and she paused mid-step and turned her head towards it. The feeling pulled her towards a hidden path, long overgrown by weeds and bushes and fallen branches, which looped in the opposite direction around the front of the tower. It was a strange sensation she noted as she began picking her way through the bramble; a prickling inside her skull that disappeared when she reached up to try to rub it away, but returned the instant her hand was gone. It vaguely reminded her of the feeling she'd had when the ancient spirit atop Sundermount had begun calling to her…but it was different as well. It felt older and somehow stiff and sluggish, as if awakening for the first time in eons. It seemed confident, wise, bored, curious, infinitely patient and beneath all of that…perhaps a little angry? That last part caught her up short, breaking her stride. She'd ignored the feelings she'd had that warned her away from the Pride Demon in Kirkwall, believing she was strong enough to resist the spirit's desires while it taught her what she wanted to know.

Well she wasn't stupid enough to do that twice…

But that didn't mean someone else wouldn't make the same mistakes. For a moment she debated turning around and finding Lyna and her wardens and imploring them to destroy whatever it was that lay beneath the tower. Of course that would require facing Lyna, and despite the mindless thrashing of limbs and spewing of venomous threats, she did not doubt the Warden Commander meant every last one of the things she'd said to her the last time they'd seen one another. Lyna was capable of many things, but she had never known the woman to lie. No, she would have to deal with this herself, here and now.

She pressed forward again and emerged out the other end of the tangle of weeds in front of a door; it was made of wood but it was clear the door had long ago hardened to stone. There was no handle, nor were there any hinges to be seen, but it was clearly a door—one that perhaps was not intended to be opened. At least someone had tried to protect the world from this thing, whatever it was, but intentions so often fell short as she had discovered and if she had found this place, this spirit, then someone else would.

She closed her eyes and aimed her hands towards the door as she

"Sahlin garas bora vir'alas sethenaran, ar nadas halam banal'ras," she chanted to herself as she reached out with her spirit and summoned power from plants, animals, rocks…the sun and the earth, the mother and father of all creation themselves. She felt the tingle of their energy gather in her mind and her heart as her ears began to ring and the sounds of the world dropped away. "Sahlin garas bora vir'alas sethenaran, ar nadas halam banal'ras." She felt her body hum and saw the limbs stretched out before her glow a faint pale green. She willed the power gathering inside her to travel down her arms and gather in her hands, and she felt her palms heat as pale green energy crackled in to existence. The magic formed a perfect orb and it grew and pulsed as she chanted, louder this time, "Sahlin garas bora vir'alas sethenaran, ar nadas halam banal'ras!" And with the last word she released the green orb towards the door.

Her magic collided with and then engulfed the door and when she felt it sink it's teeth in to the obstruction she yanked her hands back. She heard the sound of stone cracking, breaking, flying past her on all sides before she registered that the entrance was clear. She exhaled a sigh of relief when she realized none of the pieces of petrified wood had hit her. She always worried about that when blasting through stone.

Inside, there was no light and so, as she stepped over the rubble at the entrance, she flicked her wrist and summoned a wisp, holding it out before her like a candle or a torch. The inner chamber was stark, barren with two millennia's worth of dust laying undisturbed over the stone floor. The ceiling was high, reaching up as least five times her height and coming to an abrupt, flat stop. Here and there, stones had come loose or crumbled to the ground, whether the product of age or of some more immediate cause…the Avvar had warred over this land for centuries at one time.

And there, along the wall opposite the door and standing as many as fifteen feet high sat something she had never expected to lay eyes on again in this lifetime.

An eluvian.

She gasped abruptly, fear instantly shooting down her back as the wisp flickered out and she took a nervous step backwards. How had this come to be here? How was it that no one else had discovered it in all these years? Surely if the Dalish had known what was hidden right beneath their feet they wouldn't have simply left it here!

She took a tentative step towards the mirror. And then another. She felt no menace coming from her reflection, felt no danger…she still felt the subtle ebb and flow of various energies coming from it, and worried at the hints of anger that continued to shift pervasively beneath it all...but something told her that anger was not for her, or for anyone she knew or anyone alive today. "Hello?" She called, flicking her wrist and summoning the wisp again as she slowly approached the eluvian. "I know you're there…" she ventured. As she approached the energy she sensed grew stronger. "Hello…?" She tried again as she reached out, fingers hovering just an inch from the glass. An image of Keeper Marethari possessed flashed across her mind her hand flinched. If the keeper had been unable to defeat the demon, how was she supposed to do it? Creators, she didn't even know what kind of spirit she was facing! For all she knew it could be the Dread Wolf himself trapped behind that glass surface.

She stepped back again as uncertainty plagued her mind. She needed to leave this place, get word to Mahariel somehow, let someone that couldn't be possessed deal with this spirit…but she had broken down the door. If she left now, the eluvian and the spirit within would be left unguarded for an entire day at the very least. Any mage traveling along the Pilgrim's Path would sense the weakness in the veil and come to investigate and there was no way to know whether or not that mage's intentions would be good. No, she would either destroy this spirit now or be consumed by it. And if she could not destroy it…well maybe she could follow in Keeper Marethari's footsteps and hold it within herself long enough to make it to Vigil's Keep where she knew Lyna and her wardens would destroy them both.

She reached out again and let her fingers touch the glass.

"Andaran atish'an, Da'len," a voice boomed.

"Fenedhis!" She cursed as she yanked her fingers back as if she had been burned, her ears practically ringing at the volume of the voice...except she had not actually heard the voice. The words had manifested in her own mind as if she had simply thought them to herself, but the volume she had perceived them at had been nearly deafening. She reached out again, stopped, her heart pounding in her ears as she took a deep breath and summoned every ounce of courage she could muster and then let her hand fall on the glass again. "Who are you?" She demanded.

"One who was betrayed," it replied vaguely, though there was no animosity or resentment in its voice at that statement.

"Betrayed?" She asked, hoping to draw out more details. Spirits were never forthright.

"By kin and Clan and sealed away in my tomb for all eternity," it continued.

Kin and Clan? Well that certainly ruled out the possibility of this being any sort of spirit. She'd never known any spirit that understood the concept of family…not that she knew any spirits on such a personal level, but seeing as the subject had never came up, she supposed it was a safe assumption. "What did you do?" she asked, wondering if another line of questioning might be more enlightening.

"I warred against my own, as they warred against me," it provided.

She hated playing twenty questions with…well, whatever it was that she was playing the guessing game with. Why was every last ancient being so infuriatingly vague? Frustration rose again in her chest. "Who are you!?" She demanded as she slapped a hand against the heavy mirror. It made a strange sound, like a reverberating drum in the middle of a Chantry.

"I am vengeance," was all it said, the voice far too calm and collected to be anything but the most frightening thing she had possibly ever heard. It made her heart pound painfully in her chest and she took several deep breathes to attempt to calm it's palpitations.

"Is that why you were imprisoned; to keep you from seeking your vengeance?" She asked. She waited but there was no answer forthcoming. It was a stupid question, she supposed. If he was vengeance, of course he was locked away to keep him from claiming whatever vengeance he thought he was owed. She supposed the "Who do you seek vengeance on?"

"The wolf," it replied, nearly snarling. But…what wolf? It wasn't…it couldn't be…The Dread Wolf? Surely not. While the Elvhen certainly believed that Fen'Harel still stalked the Fade, it wasn't as if he was whispering scary bedtime stories to children and sticking insects in the stew. In fact, there'd been no mention of him for as long as the god had been locked away in the beyond. Surely he meant another wolf…

"For what offense?" She asked, but was again rewarded with silence. It seemed this being, whatever it was, had no intention of sharing its secrets with her. She sighed as she drew her brows together in consideration. She was decided that this creature was no spirit, but that didn't render it harmless. There were any number of reasons why something…someone might be trapped within an eluvian, but regardless of any other reasons it was given that the creature was dangerous. The questions was who the being was dangerous to. "Why did you reach out to me?" That seemed like a fair question that deserved and answer; someone who reached out to another always wanted something, and it could not get what it wanted if it didn't tell her.

"I did not reach out to you, seth'lin," it snapped, and Merrill flinched in response. It seemed to sense her reaction and softened its tone. "There is a crack in the bindings that hold me. I was awoken by the desire for a vengeance that has been denied seeping through my bars…I can do nothing from here." There was a long pause as if it could already predict the mage's response to its request. "I require a vessel."

And there it was, something seeking a vessel. Why was it always some extremely scary and powerful thing, trapped beyond the veil and needing a vessel? Why couldn't it be a fluffy bunny rabbit or beautiful bird or something equally as charming and harmless? "I've had more than enough of evil things trying to possess me for one lifetime, thank you!" She sniffed as she moved to leave. She'd find a way to seal the room and worry about binding the creature in the mirror in the morning.

"I did not ask you to be the vessel," it snapped, though there was a hurried and desperate note in its voice. "And The People will not thank you for leaving me here."

"Oh? And how do you suppose?" She practically snorted as she rolled her eyes. There was a long silence, longer than any of the previous ones and she wondered if perhaps the creature was out of ominously vague responses and chose not to answer, rather than look anything other than all-powerful.

But at last it relented. "I am the All Father. I am Elgar'nan."

.oOo.

A/N: First, I apologize for the long wait for this chapter…I hate Merrill and as such I never write her. I rarely even play with her in my party. I've even skipped her loyalty quests because of how much I dislike her. As such, I agonized just a bit about getting her voice right. That being said, she is the absolute best choice of character for what I am planning for this story, so I'll just have to deal with my personal issues there. Hopefully the extra-long-ness of this chapter makes up for the extra week y'all had to wait for it. Secondly, has anyone ever seen that door at the base of the ruined tower in Awakening? WTF IS THAT DOOR FOR!? Ugh, it makes my inner completionist and OCD-crazy-person VERY angry that I can't open that damned door. Actually, all doors in every video game that don't open annoy the crap out of me, but this is how I am choosing to deal with this one. And don't get me started on that dwarven cave that you can't reach above the Vinsomer Dragon in Inquisition…(seriously, if someone knows how to reach that cave, please share? I swear it's taunting me…)