"If you think you can summon me any time you like, I will happily explain to you that you… simply… can't!" Samael's quiet speech turned to shouting which echoed in the crammed Qunari compound for long seconds after the last word.

"I was told you are at my disposal and you're here to appease me, human. Besides that, it's not like you would have anything better to do." Arishok remained calm and his gaze slipped from the fuming Hawke at elven girl who squirmed under his scrutiny.

"Anything better to do?" Samael whispered to himself. "Anything better to do?" he roared a second later, stalking to the Qunari leader. Two broad-shouldered Qunari stepped in his way, but they were wallowing in the dust before Arishok could blink. Before Samael could ruin the fragile peace with the Qunari for good, one thin arm and one lyrium-tattooed arm snaked around his chest. Samael looked on right - Fenris' subtle wink telling him not to provoke the Arishok further, then he glanced on left - Merrill's concerned face and that poorly hidden fear in her eyes made his tensed body to relax.

"Your non-existent diplomatic skills don't surprise me, Hawke," the Arishok mumbled, observing the silent struggle right in front of him with an unconcerned expression. "Perhaps we could proceed why I summoned you in the first place, which I gravely regret right now." The Arishok hurled something in the Samael's way and he caught it; it was just a pure reflex. Merrill squealed, staggering a few steps away from her lover, Fenris gasped, but stayed at the assassin's side and Fawn stepped closer, examining the thing with interest.

Like in the slow images, Samael looked down at the round thing in his hands and it took him a while before he fully realized he held a Qunari head in his hands, staring at him with burnt out eyes and there was no tongue in mouth.

"You have to do better than this to scare me, Qunari. I kill people for living, in case you don't know that," Samael sneered, ruffling the dead head's hair.

"An explanation, human. I want an explanation why my whole karataam disappeared at the Wounded Coast and only the heads came back to the Qun." The Arishok was watching Samael's disrespectful actions, but decided to pass that in silence. For now.

"Your Qun can suck it…" Samael muttered to himself.

"What did you say?" The Arishok stood up to his full height and Samael looked ridiculously little in comparison with him.

"I said the Qun should be happy to have their heads back at least." An innocent grin sprawled on the assassin's face and Merrill giggled despite the choking atmosphere.

"What is it you want from me then, hm? Do you want their bodies? Do you want me to drag whoever did that by his ankle in here, so you could recite him the Qun until he passed out from boredom?" Obviously Samael wasn't scared enough of these horn-headed creatures and a strong poke into his ribs from Fenris pointed out this fact.

The Arishok marched right in front of the cheeky human, looking down at him with his jaw set and his usually lifeless eyes looked alive enough right now, burning with wrath. Samael's group was able to see the massive muscles bulging on the Qunari's bare torso, yet Samael stayed still, looking straight into those fish eyes above his head. No one could see that he had the blades almost out of their forearm sheathes, ready to strike back if the Qunari was foolish enough to attack him. Of course, Samael chose not to see his own foolishness.

"Step away from him, Q-Qunari." Merrill was obviously much more frightened than Samael and she wasn't able to control herself as her palms started emanating the venomous green light. Every Qunari in the compound started growling right now, closing in around the group of intruders.

"She is… a Saarebas," the Arishok breathed out, not believing his eyes. "You have an uncollared Saarebas with you!" He stalked to her, reaching for her with his brawny arm and Merrill gave a squeal of fear. The Qunari's arm was stroke aside fiercely as Samael positioned himself between the elf and the Qunari. Merrill was peering at the Arishok from behind the Hawke's back, her palms were darkening again as she was calming down, realizing Hawke wouldn't let the Qunari touch her. Fenris and Fawn had their weapons ready, challenging the nearest Qunari to come closer.

The Arishok's expression became thoughtful as he rubbed his chin, ruminating about the situation. As much as he hated humans and this city, he still needed Hawke, but he was genuinely interested in the girl as well.

"I told you I can't fight you, Hawke," he grumbled finally. "You are not a Basalit-an. So leave the girl here and the rest of you are free to go." The Arishok seemed pleased with this negotiation and his eyes were gliding along Merrill's body, considering her as his winning prize.

"Would I get at least your Saarebas in return, Arishok?" Samael asked in a perfectly nonchalant tone and he squeezed Merrill's hand behind his back to let her know he wasn't going anywhere without her.

"The Saarebas… belongs… to its… KARATAAM!" The Arishok lost his patience, shouting.

"Well, and this Saarebas belongs to me, Qunari. So this is what's going to happen. You attack me; I and my companions will kill as many Qun-kneelers as we are able to. You would be cornered, your mind wildly musing about how the hell you are supposed to kill me when the pathetic Hawke is no Basalit-an, oh no. You might end up dead because you're underestimating me, which is good for me. It gives me an advantage and the possibility of your head being spiked at the city gate is rising as we speak." During his speech Samael was circling around the silent Arishok, keeping Merrill with him.

"Or you could paw your own Saarebas and let me leave to investigate who murdered your precious karataam." Hawke rounded up his statement, standing right in front of the speechless Arishok and reaching the arm holding the Qunari head by its hair towards him. When the Qunari stayed motionless, Samael dropped the head to his feet. He gave him the last vicious sneer and marched out of the compound, half-expecting the Qunari spear in his back. Merrill scuttled right behind him, still holding his hand and Fawn with Fenris stepped cautiously backwards with their still drawn weapons until they were out of the compound as well.

Fenris blew the snowy hair out of his sweaty forehead, piercing his grinning assassin with a cold gaze. "I'm impressed, Hawke. Next time Varric complains about your diplomatic abilities, I will be the one telling him you almost killed us in the Qunari compound because you couldn't hold your vain tongue behind the teeth. Of course I'll add the part when the same tongue rescued us afterwards." Samael just shrugged at those harsh words, glancing at Merrill who was trying to embed herself into his chest. He wasn't used to showing his feelings in public, but he placed a peck on her forehead anyway, encircling her with his arms briefly. He did notice Fawn turned away to hide his disapproving face, but at least he forbore making a comment this time.

"You thought I would leave you there." Samael whispered to Merrill when it was obvious she wouldn't let go of him any time soon. When she nodded in reply, fidgeting in his arms, Samael waved the two elves away to give them a moment. Fenris rolled his eyes but turned around and strolled away, but Fawn followed him more than reluctantly, watching Hawke in suspicion as he lit up a cigar.

"How can you still doubt me, Merrill?" He brought her chin up so she would finally look at him. When she did, Samael froze, arching his eyebrow. "Your eyes are red, Merrill," he breathed out, holding her a bit further from him.

"By the Dread Wolf! Really?" Merrill gasped, hiding them in her palms.

"That was not my point," Samael pulled her hands away gently. "I remember well what you said about who you are and what you are, Merrill, before you moved in with me. So don't you dare hiding from me now." His quiet words conjured a faint smile on her lips as she breathed out loudly in relief. Samael watched in astonishment as his crimson ring stone turned into mossy green in one second.

Hawke realized Merrill was watching his amazement with a smile on her lips so he just put down the hand with ring, coughing, murmuring to the sky "Bah, magic—"

"A message for you, Messere!" A lanky lad skittered by them, then returned and halted in front of Hawke in a hilariously stiff pose. Samael took the note, leaving a silver coin in the lad's hand instead. His eyebrow knitted as he was reading the message, waving at the two elves arguing thirty feet away to come closer.

"So… not that I would want to, but I need to see Varric right now, then Aveline requires my presence in her own charming way of a direct order and then I guess I'm heading at the Coast. Who's with me?" Samael glanced around him. Merrill squeezed his hand in agreement and Fenris nodded, still scowling about something Fawn had said.

"I have… other business to attend to today, Hawke. Don't wait for me with a dinner." Fawn sneered, but Samael glimpsed a nervous twitch in Fawn's face as he whirled around and almost ran away.

"Fenris, try to lure somebody else to come with us, please. Maybe you shouldn't mention the fact we're looking for the Qunari corpses." Samael smirked and leaned closer. "Wait for me at the Keep entrance." The elven warrior nodded and sauntered away.

oOo

Once Hawke and Merrill stood in the dooryard of an inconspicuous Lowtown house, Samael had no idea if they had the correct address. But Xenon's sources were usually more than reliable, so Samael knocked on the massive door, listening to the sounds coming from inside.

"What ya want? No more door-to-door merchants here, no more Chantry bigots! Leave me to my unholy fornicating peace or I'll make shoe strings out of your innards!" Hawke jumped up at the hoarse voice, yelling at him from behind the closed door with a rising intensity.

"I'm looking for Varric Tethras!" Hawke shouted in return, pounding on the door twice.

"The password?" the doorman guffawed in reply.

"I don't need any password, you boor, but you'll need a new door if you won't let me in to talk to him!" Hawke lost his patience which wasn't hard to achieve anyway.

"Every! Visitor! Needs! A! Passwoooord!" A voice roared in reply and it occurred to Samael his owner wasn't probably sane. He just jiggled the door knob, intending to break the door down or use his lockpicks. He chose the swifter choice and at the moment he was about to smash the door down, the door opened and Hawke flew through like a greased lightning, hitting the wall behind the door in the full momentum, and tumbling down, stunned. The door was slammed close again before Merrill could run to her lover and she hammered at it, calling his name in pure panic.

"HA! You definitely have a face of a lecherous Chantry bigot!" an unfamiliar voice said while Hawke was blinking, nursing his bumped head when he felt a blade on his throat and he looked up at his captor. To his astonishment an elder skeletal man was standing there, his left eye twitching with a nervous tic. But it wasn't the most peculiar thing, since his eyes were completely milky white, but he did seem to see Hawke, so he was not blind then.

A choked sound resounded behind the door and it flew in all directions, exploding in purple flames when Merrill's silhouette enveloped in outraged red light walked through the doorframe. Samael uncovered his face, which he had hidden to protect it from the explosion and he couldn't believe Merrill just used her blood magic for something that petty as being ripped from him for a half of a minute. The man screeched as he was caught with Merrill's powerful blood vortex and the bright light emanating from Merrill's staff was dazzling. Blinded, Samael climbed up on his feet, reaching for her. When his hand entered the blood magic field around her he felt warm tingling sensation running through his whole body, but it was nothing in comparison with what he felt when his palm connected with her shoulder. A pure geyser of pleasure flooded into his mind and he gasped, scared about the intense feeling. Merrill's crimson shield started turning amber then it darkened as she lowered her staff, panting, her eyes wandering between her lover and the stranger who collapsed down.

"Merrill… what the hell? He wasn't about to kill me! Look at him – he's old! And gaunt! And…!" Samael rubbed his forehead, hissing when he brushed the tiny scratch caused by the wooden splinter from the door. Merrill opened her mouth to reply when a man sitting on the floor chuckled and they both glanced at him. He had his both palms in front of his face, twisted into puppets, talking to each other when he moved his fingers against each other.

"That was quite a blow, wasn't it?"

"Oh yes, it was."

"We definitely should have let those two pass, because they weren't kidding about the broken door."

"But who could have known?"

"Indeed who the hell could have known?"

"Such a beautiful door…"

"But the witch knows!"

"Yes, she knows, but she's under his protection, love. There's nothing we can do."

"Unless…" His voice trailed off into incoherent and indecipherable chuckling and muttering.

Merrill and Samael glanced at each other again, their mouths hanging.

"By the Stone, Hawke! What's this mess? I knew it was you the moment splinters and spells started flying around," Varric strode over the murmuring doorman, pulling a wooden chip out of Samael's disheveled hair.

"Your lackey tried to kill me, dwarf!" Samael scowled in return.

"Oh, come on, Hawke. He's harmless. And funny," Varric pulled the man up on his feet. "Hawke, this is Ichabod Bane. Ichabod, meet the destroying element of this city, Samael Hawke. He's going to apologize and pay for the door, don't you worry," Varric pierced Hawke with a threatening glare.

Samael just rolled his eyes and sighed "Whatever," gesturing towards the room. They walked there and Samael seated himself on a creaking sofa, Merrill nestled down beside him, looking around with her eyes wide open. Varric took a seat in the armchair opposite to a sofa and assumed a position of a hurt friend waiting for a well-deserved apology. Of course, there was an overweening smug on his face. Samael was aware of that and a proper apology just froze on his lips so he made it quick.

"Errr, yeah, sorry about the other day, dwarf. Now, are you going with me or what?" He blurted out, scratching his head.

"That was the worst apology I've ever heard, Hawke!" Varric leaned backwards in the armchair, steepling his fingers. His expression then darkened as he reminisced about the fire and that his home and all his things had burnt.

"You know, Hawke, I thought you were the worst thing that had ever happened to me," Varric mumbled and Samael lowered his head in guilt, knowing the insult he gave Varric was completely misplaced and that the Hanged Man had burnt to ground because of him as well.

"But then I recalled the Merchant Guild and no – you're definitely not the worst thing in my life," Varric grinned and shooed away Ichabod who peered inside with a green parrot on his hand.

"You know you're welcomed at my estate, Varric, if you need a place to stay," Samael thought an offer of temporary shelter was in order.

"Nah. Thank you, Hawke, but no. I wouldn't be able to sleep there anyway since that pointy-eared guts-stabbing bastard lives there as well." Varric pointed out the obvious obstacle. "It's quite comfortable here, well, if you ignore Ichabod's many stunts like setting the kitchen on fire, staring at you while you're sleeping or playing lyre at 4 AM."

"Who is that man anyway, Varric?" Hawke's voice was quiet as he leaned forward, interested in the peculiar person.

"He's an old friend of mine. His story is long and you wouldn't believe even the half of it anyway. But I'll tell you some day," Varric smirked and stood up. "So? Who are we after today? Bianca was itching to stick some bolts in some bastard's ass for ages now!"

Samael laughed shortly at his eagerness, realizing he must have been bored lately and jumped on his feet as well, pulling Merrill up with him.

"Fuck my feathers!" the parrot squeaked when they passed by the silent Ichabod, who was ogling Merrill.

"Don't even ask…" Varric sighed when he noticed a mute question Hawke was giving him with his arched eyebrow.

oOo

"I have no clue why do you have to do several things at the same time, Hawke…" Varric was brooding, looking around the coast for something he could shoot.

"I need money Varric. It's as simple as that," Samael shrugged, pulling Merrill away from the cliff edge when she swayed there in the fresh breeze, staring in rapture at the waves turning to fluffy foam on the rocks thirty feet beneath her feet.

"Come on, Hawke. You can do better than this explanation. You're wealthy. You could stroll around the city in beautiful clothes with beautiful women, no offense, Daisy, and everybody would drop to your feet for you to grant them a smile and maybe a small share from your fat pouch of gold," Varric laughed, cocking his head in curiosity.

"Do you have any idea how much this one eats lately?" Samael replied as he pulled his woman closer. Merrill was pouting about those pretty women Varric had mentioned.

"Very funny, Samael," Varric scowled, glancing at the skinny elven girl. It surprised him though when he noticed she didn't look so gaunt and unhealthy as normal. She was still slender, but healthy slender and she was glowing with happiness every time her lover touched her or looked at her.

Samael glanced back where Fenris walked along with Anders, both taken by a quiet debate. "They are actually talking to each other without making a single attempt to kill each other," he shook his head in disbelief, laughing shortly. "And it won't kill us, Varric, to look for a runaway mage since the Templars are offering nice pouch of gold for her. Then I need to search for any signs of stinking Qunari carrion and don't forget it was Aveline who gave me the task about clearing the northern path here. I must admit that woman scares me sometimes…" He rounded up his explanation with muttering to himself.

"Just sometimes? I find myself constantly scared shitless of her," the dwarf guffawed and inhaled the salty spring breeze deeply before they headed north.

oOo

Two hours later Varric was completely boltless and they were all keeled over in the sand, exhausted because of the "present" which Aveline gave them by clearing out the path. Anders had to use a potion so he would be able to heal an ugly sinuous wound on Fenris' thigh and Merrill stayed lying motionless, intending to sleep for two days after their arrival home. The breeze brought a distant familiar voice to them, saying the most unexpected things.

"… and if the blacksmith hadn't done that correctly, the blade could be easily shattered or even–"

"Listen, Captain, how is it comes that our route was so quiet today? I mean the coast always swarms with bandits, refugees, but today – nothing," a thoughtful rusty voice interrupted her and she replied just with a nervous cough.

"Guardsman Donnic, I was wondering if you… if we… it's completely all right if you won't… but I…" Aveline rounded up her ramble with racy swearing which was accompanied with Donnic's raised eyebrow and open mouth.

"Now I get it, Aveline! Just command the silly Hawke to do your dirty job so you could have your fun, right?" Samael jumped up from his hiding place, stalking to Aveline with his fists clenched.

"Hawke! What a lovely surprise! What are you doing here?" Aveline's eyes begged him not to reveal his part in her plot to ask Donnic about their relationship. But she didn't know Hawke well enough if she truly thought that Samael would act like an adult for once and help her.

Before Samael could ruin the whole situation, Varric stepped in, squeezing Samael's tensing shoulder. "So are we done here, Captain, or do you want me to hold him down for a while?" His words were even worse since he said them grinning and he shot a lewd glance at Donnic at the end.

"Varric, DON'T!" Aveline gulped.

"I don't understand!" Merrill peeped, her eyes popping out of her head. "What's happening? Why would we hold that nice Guardsman down?" She scratched her head in genuine confusion.

"Because, Daisy, ah girl…" Varric sighed, not knowing how to put it lightly for the elf. "Tell me what are you doing in the bed with your dear lover every night? Then apply the same situation for those two pigeons here." Samael just rolled his eyes about Varric's lesson and pulled out a silver flask with whiskey.

"I still don't understand! Why would Aveline want to comb Donnic's hair?" Merrill continued her investigation. Of course, Varric burst out laughing, Anders with Fenris bended over, roaring with laughter as well, and Samael choked and spluttered the whiskey out over the sand.

"Thanks, Merrill, I always wanted to let the whole damned Kirkwall know I like my hair combed with a special brush and candles burning around me," Samael gave her a scorching glare and Merrill shrank back at her lover's harsh words.

"Would anyone please tell me what's going on here?" Donnic interrupted them all when the limits of his patience overflowed, searching the faces around him one by one.

"I would run if I were you, Donnic." Hawke stalked to Aveline, looking her deep in the eyes, but talking to Donnic. "You're about to become her bitch." A fierce slap coming from Aveline forced Hawke to dance backwards to dodge it and he stopped when he was between his grinning companions again. Aveline glanced at Donnic who was starting to understand the whole situation, but before he could say something Aveline set her jaw and marched away.

"That was… cruel, Hawke," Varric was the only one who seized laughing and he was giving Samael a condemning glare now. "Even from you."

"She should have told me, damn it. I would clear the path anyway, but I would know why had I do that. It's her fault!" Hawke defended himself, but he knew he overstepped the boundaries of friendship. Varric shrugged when he saw Hawke regretted his words already.

"Let's go." Samael growled. "We still have a mage to drag to Gallows and–"

"You're a fool if you think I will return there voluntarily!" A high-pitched voice slashed the air and they all whirled around, looking for her. And there she was standing on the rock not far from them. She was Dalish, a bit older than Merrill, and her raven hair was waving in the breeze.

"Come on, elf, don't fight me. I don't like killing people with black hair," Samael slowly unsheathed his katana, watching the elven mage. She strolled down to him, orbiting around him. Samael was that surprised about her odd behavior he stayed still, but ready to attack.

"What is it you want that would make you leave me alone?" she whispered into his right ear. "I can give you many things, Hawke!"

"You know my name. How do you know who I am?" Samael swiveled his head to face her.

"Who doesn't in Kirkwall?" The woman laughed mirthlessly, glancing at the silent companions.

"Samael, please let her go," both Merrill and Anders stepped forward, but it was the blonde mage who said it out loud. Hawke whirled around to look at them in shock about questioning him, but calmed down when Varric and Fenris came by his side, watching the Dalish apostate intently.

"She's going back to the Circle, Anders, unless she could beat the offer from the Templars," Samael's voice was soft, but somehow deadly soft. Anders turned to the apostate with a mute question, but she just shook her head and her gaze slipped at her Dalish kin.

"What about you, sister? Will you let him claim me? Will you let him claim one of your own?" asked the apostate. Merrill started fidgeting under her eyes, burning with hope. Samael's heart skipped a beat when he realized he had just forced Merrill to choose between him and her people. He was wise enough to know not to ever do that because he wouldn't probably like the outcome, but here we – it happened anyway. And Merrill was about to betray him no doubt.

"Hawke, just for this once, please." Anders tried to say it in a jovial manner, the flashes of his charms, coming from the time before the Fade spirit started to consume him, started to show through his always tormented façade.

"So now what? You think just because I'm fucking a Dalish mage I will suddenly love all mages? Well, think again, Anders!" Anders' eyes started glowing after those nasty words, but two pairs of arms held him on the spot. Not to protect Hawke; to protect him.

"So you're a Templar-helper, as always, right?" Anders lashed out at the assassin, struggling with his captors.

"Don't be ridiculous, Anders!" a vicious smile twisted Samael's lips. "I'm at no one's side since nobody is at my side. I'm a mercenary in the first place and I don't give a damn about the whole Templars versus mages thing." Samael's eyes then slipped at the motionless Merrill who just stood there with her head hanging. Samael realized his harsh words had probably hurt her, again, yet he needed to know at which side of a barricade she was standing and he needed to know that right now.

"Merrill…?" He brought her chin up gently and her eyes swimming in tears unarmed him. She blinked to keep the tears in check and stalked to her kin.

"I have no people to call my own. Not anymore. I'm sorry," she wiped away the one tear which started to make its way down her cheek and returned to Samael's side. Samael strolled to the defeated mage who obviously wasn't about to fight for her freedom, but he was prepared for the blade pulled out of her robes. To his astonishment, she attempted to stab herself in the chest, not him. He caught the hand just in time before the blade could plunge into her body and pried the knife out of her trembling hand. He felt sorry for her, maybe even more than he was able to admit to himself.

Without any words he tied her hands behind her back and pushed her gently down the path.

"What about the Qunari, Hawke?" Varric asked in a small voice, watching the apostate.

"I haven't seen nor smelled any Qunari carcass, Varric. Have you?" Samael smirked, regaining his composure. The dwarf just grinned back at him.

Anders finally broke the Fenris' and Varric's hold and fled the coast like a mad man, but Samael found him waiting near the Gallows gate. Their eyes clashed as they passed by to collect the reward, but not a word between them. When Samael re-emerged from the Gallows courtyard, Merrill joined him again and Samael stopped right in front of the silent and hunched blonde mage who looked like he was twenty years older than his age. They were studying each other's face for one long minute; Samael then dropped the pouch with a reward at his feet and left.

oOo

They lay intertwined after their lovemaking for a long time without words, listening to each other's slowing breathing. No doubt they were both musing about what had happened at the coast that day and Samael felt the burning scratches on his back – Merrill let her fingernails show her anger there and Samael couldn't blame her.

"Samael?" Merrill finally broke the fragile silence.

"Hm?"

"Don't do that ever again," Samael pushed her away so he could search her face.

"Because next time you would betray me?" His words were hesitant but bitter.

"Because next time I would betray myself," Merrill closed her eyes and snuggled closer again, relieved when Samael wrapped his arms around her in a tight protecting cage. They both drifted off, but a vivid dream filled as usually with burning ships and empty faces of those who had died by his hand, woke up Samael in the middle of night. Merrill wasn't sleeping by his side, but he needn't to look for her since she stood by the dresser, naked and lost in her thoughts. He was about to ask why she wasn't asleep, but her sudden movement silenced him.

Merrill fished something from an open drawer, something pendent on a thick silver chain which clattered in a deaf silence. When she held it in front of her eyes, Samael recognized the hyaline flacon they used to keep their blood in, for the possibility to find one another if needed. And it was definitely the flacon containing Samael's blood since Merrill's one was almost empty from the time Samael needed to locate her at the Gallows. Merrill slowly opened the vial and smelled its content. Nothing could have prepared Samael for what came next since Merrill gulped down the blood without hesitation.

She… drank it. She drank the blood. My blood! What the hell?

The first impulse Samael had was to yell, scream, shout, shake an explanation out of her, but somehow he remained still and closed his eyes again when Merrill put the flacon on its place again and was about to turn around.

Samael felt the mattress rocked as she sat on the bed again and he let his one eye to peer at her – she was sitting on the edge of their bed as he thought, stretching with her arms up and then she sighed in… relief? Pleasure? Well, certainly not in disgust or pain. His eye slowly closed tight when she started to crawl on all four to him.

Merrill placed a tender peck on his lips when she snuggled as close to him as she could, wrapping his free arm around her. Samael played his part of a sleeping person, so he let his arm fall back on the blanket where Merrill picked it up again with an impatient snort, shifting and wrapping it around her again.

Samael lay awake for long minutes, musing why the hell the little bundle snoring in his arms would drink his blood.