Samael couldn't remember how he got home from the graveyard, but he found himself sitting in the armchair by the fireplace in the main hall of his estate, a snifter full of golden whiskey in his shaking hands and Bodahn fussing around him. For the first time Samael welcomed dwarf's excessive care and devotion.
Bodahn didn't want to disturb his silent master, well, not much at least, but since Samael had stayed motionless for a half an hour, staring into the fireplace with empty eyes, Bodahn dared approach him and patted his shoulder gently. It was like Bodahn had broken a spell, since Samael twitched, gazing at the dwarf in surprise as though it was only now that he realized where he was and why. The old dwarf waited patiently for his master to speak first and when he thought he wouldn't live long enough to see him saying if only one word, Hawke broke the silence finally.
"Bodahn… sit," he gestured towards the other armchair, gulping down the snifter he found himself holding in the palms. The dwarf arched an eyebrow since he wasn't used to be invited to lounge with the landlord by the fire, but – as always – he followed the order without questions.
"You might have already picked up that things didn't go well with Miss Morrell's death," Samael sneered, watching his loosely intertwined hands. "I was caught right with her body by her own brother and as you can imagine, he didn't take it well." Samael looked up at the dwarf only to cast his eyes down again. "From now on I'm marked by the Coterie leader himself with a sign of death and I'm pretty sure he plans on making me suffer a great deal before he kills me." Samael realized his voice sounded business-like, even when he talked about his own death, but Bodahn's eyes were twice their usual size and he was mindlessly pressing his clenched fists onto his chest. But Samael wasn't done, oh no.
"Apparently, you want to leave, Bodahn. And I understand. It's necessary." Samael set finally his tired eyes at the mute dwarf, estimating the impact his words had on his faithful and valuable servant. "You need to leave and you need to do it right now. I want you to grab Sandal, pack small bag, and get out of here. I'll cover your traveling expenses plus enough gold for you to settle down somewhere safe. I can't guarantee peace and safety in this mansion anymore for I'm not sure what would Raen come up with. So…" Samael's throat constricted and he tried to cover it up with brief cough, studying his hands again. "I was honored to have you here and surely—"
"The dinner was roasted seasoned goose on garlic with Orlesian potatoes and fruit flambéed with brandy as a delicious desert, Messere," Bodahn interrupted rudely his master, looking straight into his eyes with defiance Samael hadn't experienced from the always obedient dwarf before.
"Hum, sounds lovely. Did you hear what I've just said, Bodahn?" Samael asked, annoyed, and not completely sure what this was about.
"Shall I warm you up a portion, Messere?" Bodahn asked in a perfectly polite tone, oblivious to Samael's objection.
"You can't stay here! All right? Get your shit and get out!" Samael lost his patience and set the empty snifter he had been playing with in his hands at the table edge. It balanced there for a few seconds, then smashed against the flagstone into pieces.
"Perhaps a nice hot bath will do, I guess. You're awfully tensed, Messere." Bodahn stood up abruptly, dismissing the thought of leaving the estate without hesitation. But Hawke jumped up as well and for a second Bodahn thought Samael would grab him by the neckline and shake this brave decision to stay here out of him, but Samael set his hands gently on the dwarf's shoulders instead, bending down a bit so he would look right into the half-tall Bodahn's face.
After a minute Samael whispered almost inaudibly, "Thank you." When he carefully searched Bodahn's face, he found nothing there but kind understanding for his words, but also an obstinate determination to stay no matter what. Since Hawke had no idea how he could express that storm of feelings that was raging inside of him right now, he just popped out those two choked words, but the dwarf seemed to understand since he gave him a warm smile, fidgeting and went skittering to prepare a bath and meal.
Samael strolled to the cabinet, pouring himself another drink into yet another snifter. Before he could sort his whirling thoughts into some order, Bodahn was pushing him into the bathroom, helping him take off his armor. The meticulous dwarf interrupted the comfortable silence just once when he snorted - the armor was encrusted with dirt and blood and if Bodahn hated something, it was definitely dirty, muddy and invincible dirt. When was Samael stripped just to his tight breeches stained with Haydée's blood, Bodahn bowed and left the bathroom, gesturing towards the silver tray with steaming meal, clean clothing and a bathtub filled with hot water and foam emanating the keen odour of lavender and sage.
Samael strolled to a misted mirror in the corner, staring at his blurred silhouette. After a moment his hand shot out, smearing the droplets of water on the mirror, then the hand dropped down again. He watched his face in the mirror for long time, contemplating Raen's words of contempt and vengeance. They were burning his very core and he wished he would be scared of Raen's revenge, but… nothing. Only echoing emptiness inside of him along with total indifference about what would happen next. When he wasn't able to bear looking at himself anymore, he slipped out of the breeches and sank into the soothing hot water and fragrant foam, leaving nothing but nose above the surface. This way he could pretend there were no bitter tears mingling with the water.
oOo
When Samael re-emerged from the steamed bathroom, Bodahn seemed pleased and calm and nobody would guess the Coterie sword of vengeance was hanging above the Hawke estate. Samael realized the dwarf was waiting for orders regarding the situation, but Bodahn had already gotten started and bragged about locking every door and shutter he could find in the estate. When he had finished, he read aloud a short note Aveline had sent five minutes ago, telling them the three Guardsmen in disguise were ordered to patrol around the estate until Aveline could come over tomorrow to talk about the whole situation with Samael.
Hawke just nodded at the dwarf since he really had nothing more to say and it was only now when he realized Fawn was supposed to stay with Merrill in the bedroom. Obviously, they were both still there since he hadn't seen either of them yet. He felt like sleeping for two damned days, but he couldn't omit Merrill's part in Haydée's death, so he started climbing the stairs, arguing with himself to enter the bedroom to talk to the elves. It was a struggle no to hide himself somewhere and stick his head beneath the pillow, hoping his problems would be gone by the morning.
He almost knocked on the bedroom door, then realized how pathetic that would be since it was his door. He also realized he was miserable; sad, angry and really not in the mood for Fawn's prickly comments or Merrill's evasive answers. When he entered the room, Fawn gazed up at him from the book he was reading by the crackling fireplace, his black eyes gliding along Hawke's body like he was anticipating Samael would return covered in blood. Or maybe he didn't expect Samael to return at all? Who the hell could tell since Fawn's face remained as always impenetrable with that light teasing sneer on his thin lips.
The second glance Samael granted to his favorite myrtle-green armchair in the corner, buried by the nest of blankets and pillows. He noticed there was a small silent bulge beneath them. When Samael stalked closer to the elven warrior he noticed the ripped sleeve of his delicate silver tunic and fresh slash on his skin, making Samael recall that throwing knife Merrill took from him.
"You're… hurt?" Hawke half-asked, half- stated, peering askance at the proud elf.
"You know, you could have told me Merrill had a knife on her," Fawn replied, unconcerned and even mildly smiling. Samael wondered for a second if Merrill could have possibly done anything to actually infuriate Mahariel, since this wasn't obviously enough. That bloody elf looked even amused!
"Sorry for that," Samael sneered, "I had other things in mind. You know, like wondering who the fuck left a dying woman on my doorstep, why was Merrill—" he realized he was about to say something he didn't intend to share with anyone.
"Why was Merrill what…?" Fawn's eyes narrowed.
"Why was she looking for me at the brothel," Samael finished his lie, glancing around the room since he found himself unable to bear Fawn's scrutiny. If the elf had picked up on Samael's uneasiness he didn't show it.
"Tell me, Hawke, did you order her to do anything before you left?" Fawn pierced Samael again with his inquisitive glare, sounding upset suddenly.
"Order?" Samael arched an eyebrow. "I just told her to wait for me in the bedroom and I might have mentioned my armchair," Samael reminisced about his exact words with difficulty. "Why?" he asked since the elf remained silent.
"The maid-servant bathed her and when she came here, she insisted on sitting in that ridiculous armchair, not talking to me whatsoever. When I wanted to settle her in the bed, she struggled like her life depended on sitting right there on that damned spot. And when I tried to simply carry her to bed, she pulled out the blade and attacked me." Fawn finished his narration, watching Hawke like he blamed him for Merrill's odd behavior. Samael just rubbed his eyelids, forcing himself to think and reply something. He felt like choking in the bedroom, so he gestured towards the balcony like he wished to talk with Fawn there and he stepped outside. The elf made sure Samael saw how he rolled his eyes, letting him know how tiring and boring this all was for him, but then he closed the book, set it carefully on a table and strolled after Hawke on the balcony.
Samael leaned on the balustrade, looking out over the sleeping city and inhaling deeply of a night chill mixed with intoxicating scent of crimson roses growing in the garden. They were from Fereldan and suddenly Samael wasn't sure if he loved them or hated them since with every breath he took they reminded him of his homeland.
"So what happened?" Fawn leaned on a balustrade as well, lighting up a fat Antivan cigar.
"I'm screwed… that happened," Samael laughed mirthlessly and jumped on the balustrade to sit there, his legs dangling in the air. Fawn watched his doing with poorly hidden disquiet; it was like he expected Hawke to jump down. "Raen has his sister's body now. He found me at the place I intended to hide her, he promised a terrible revenge, blahblah… such a drama." Samael was astonished that even now he was able to crack jokes and Fawn granted him an amused grin for that. "I'm not sure how he was able to find me, damn it!" Samael continued thinking about it, not aware he was saying his thoughts out loud. "He said Haydée sent him a message to meet her there! But when? How? She was dead for an hour! Yet she led him there at that exact time when I was there! I don't get it…" Samael shook his head, rubbing his temples.
"What do you intend to do?" Fawn blew the odoriferous smoke into the sky. "Shall I kill him for you?" he asked casually, leaving Hawke pretty much awestricken after this simple question.
"Well, thank you for this offer, but no." Samael scratched his head. "I guess I'm going to lay low for a while, not giving him a chance to mess with those around me, and I'm sure he'll get impatient and bored in no time. He will challenge me, probably in front of whole damned Kirkwall and I will face him and kill him. Simple as that." Samael shrugged, scratching his calf on the balustrade.
"Shouldn't I take Merrill out of the city for a while?" Fawn asked, again casually, but he watched Hawke's reaction cautiously this time. Samael scowled at the rose bush beneath him, but then he had to admit, Fawn had a point here.
"I won't stop her if she wants to leave this estate. Leave… me," his voice trailed off, but then Samael coughed, realizing he had to get a hold of himself again. "Tell me, Fawn, since you're a brilliant scheming bastard yourself…" Samael averted the elf's attention, grinning at him. "If you happen to know who just tried to kill you and you knew you were going to be dead within seconds, what would you say to a person witnessing your murder?" Samael rubbed his chin, watching the horizon growing pale.
"Well, this can't happen to me," Fawn straightened up, jabbing his eyes into Hawke. Samael just rolled his eyes, snorting like 'thank you so much for help'. "But if I were a pitiful dying human, I would try to reveal the name of my murderer of course." Fawn's voice was thoughtful and oddly distant.
"Then I guess I have to pay a visit to Xenon," Samael nodded when Fawn confirmed what was he thinking anyway. Fawn shrugged, then bowed a bit mockingly, like he would go with him if it was Samael's wish indeed. Samael glanced into the sky where the stars were fading as the sun was about to peer at them over the roofs of Hightown.
They both knew they should move, do something, not just stand there on a balcony like two statues, but at that moment they both felt comfortable in that silence that followed and peace around them, however it was just peace right before the battle. Fawn broke the silence finally, staring up into the sky. "Did you know that at this time of year, you can see strange rings around a few stars?" the elf almost whispered.
"Well, if you've had enough to drink, you can see them indeed," Samael sneered and they both guffawed like mad men. Samael swayed on the balustrade, both in laughter and because of the gust of salty breeze, so Fawn snaked his arms around the assassin's chest and pulled him down on his feet, muttering "We don't want you to get flattened if you happen to tumble off the balcony, do we? Morrell would be so disappointed," he added, making them burst in laughter again.
"Thank you for watching over Merrill, Fawn," Hawke finally managed to give shape to his thoughts, when Fawn let go of him, rather reluctantly. "Leave us now, please" he glanced into the bedroom, leaving no space for objection.
"I don't think you should sleep here tonight, Hawke," Fawn replied, his face turning into the wax mask again. "I think—" Fawn continued, but Samael simply had no patience left to remain reasonable here.
"So where do you propose I should sleep, huh?" he interrupted Fawn, glancing at him seductively. Once again he was surprised where that strength to talk, joke, smile, and even flirt, came from. Samael couldn't believe his eyes when Fawn actually blushed, gave him a mild bow like this conversation was over and strolled out of the balcony and then the bedroom as well, glancing at the bulge that was Merrill once more.
Samael closed his eyes when the first beam of sunlight reached his face, then he stepped into the bedroom as well, pushing the curtains together to keep the sun outside. Once they were alone, Samael had to fight the urge to simply keel over in the bed and sleep it all off. The bulge stirred and Samael noticed one eye peering at him through a tiny slit between the blankets. He started walking towards the armchair, considering every step he took, realizing he had no desire to talk again about Haydée or about what had happened at the graveyard.
"Give me the knife," he said with an imperious undertone, when he halted by the armchair. Actually he intended to learn if she was willing to talk to him or interact with him. His throwing knife magically appeared in his hand and the greenish eye disappeared beneath the blankets again.
"To the bed. Now!" he continued in the terse orders. What was his surprise when the whole bundle of blankets lifted up immediately and started wobbling towards the bed. Samael couldn't resist and – sneering – he stomped casually on the blanket hem and Merrill's cover slumped down on the carpet after a moment, accompanied with her surprised squeak. She whirled around, her eyes rabid, as she started staggering backwards from Samael who was creeping closer and closer to her. Once they were both settled on the bed, Samael was finally able to take a good look at his elf. She looked just as exhausted as he was, but she was watching him with open fear and disquiet, like he would explode any second and finish what he had started above Haydée's corpse.
Despite her lovely face and rather amusing blanket stunt Samael knew exactly how he felt about Merrill and he intended to make it clear for her, when he inhaled deeply, preparing for an unpleasant conversation.
"Look, Merrill…" he started, scratching his head. "I know we're both tired and upset, but I have a few questions." Merrill simply nodded at him like she would answer them. Samael said shortly what had happened at the graveyard, his voice was perfectly colorless. Then he made sure he had her full attention before he shifted closer to her, catching her eyes. "I'm tired," he said it slowly and vigorously. "Maker, I'm fucking tired of this weirdness that is enveloping us lately," he added, not taking his blazing eyes off her face. Merrill let her head hanging, shrinking to herself, but Samael continued. "I'm done dancing on the tiptoes around you. And I'm done guessing what are you thinking about or why do you do this or that. I want you to… I need you to answer me right now and if you can't give me honest answers, you're no longer welcomed here," he finished his speech, realizing he was losing control. Merrill simply stared at him, opening her mouth several times, but no sound came out of it.
"Are you…" Merrill gulped loudly, her eyes filling with the tears. "Are you kicking me out?" she whispered in horror. Samael just rubbed the temples, asking himself what was unclear about his statement 'tell the truth or get out'.
"Did you kill her, Merrill?" he asked her abruptly, fire burning in his eyes.
"No." Merrill insisted on her version. "Please, let me explain," she asked him with submission in her voice. She realized her future with Hawke was at risk and everything now depended on her words and behavior. Samael just waved his hand like he was listening to her and her words should better be worth his attention.
"When I woke up in the middle of night I heard some strange noises. I knew Charon was upstairs and I was scared," the words were firing out of Merrill. "I peered behind the door and she was simply standing behind it, clenching her neck and staring at me. She… she just stood there, trying to call for help, reaching to me!" Merrill shrieked, lost in the gruesome memory. "I caught her and tried to get her to sit so I could take a look at her injury, but she pushed me… away… like I was… something inferior." Merrill looked up at her lover, a tear rolling down her cheek. She swept it away impatiently. "Despite her wound she pushed me away like I was the one who has done that to her, sizzling insults at me…" her voice trailed off.
"Then what?" Samael asked mercilessly, not giving her a minute to calm down.
"Then… I smelled it…" Merrill breathed out, her eyes bright and wide. Samael stared at her in rapture, knowing exactly what she spoke of, but resisting believing it. "My fingers were coated with the blood as I touched her. I… couldn't resist. I didn't want to. I tasted it." Merrill glanced at him in despair.
"So you are addicted to it… or something?" Samael inhaled sharply, not really wanting to know the answer, but he felt oddly calm right now.
"No," Merrill shook her head in vehemence. "I simply tasted it because she insulted me and rejected my help," she set her eyes at him and Samael found there the same pride of the elvhenan people which was in Fawn's eyes constantly. Samael contemplated her words for a few minutes, then he continued his questioning.
"The brothel," he said shortly, demanding her explanation.
"I wanted to find you there," Merrill started fidgeting; reminiscing about the fight they had before. "I shouldn't have told you… that. It was not my place to question your decisions, Samael," she searched his eyes, trying to assess how he felt about her confession. "Then I saw you… with her." Merrill hissed, her eyes flashing red lightning.
"So let me get this straight. You've been to Blooming Rose, you saw me there, but left without talking to me. I believe that's the time when our mighty Hero appeared, huh…" Samael droned, clenching his fists.
"Yes. Fawn found me; we walked around the city for a while. You already know the rest… ma vhenan." Merrill dared addressing him with this loving expression. Samael considered her words, his tired mind desperately searching for some logic explanation.
"About the blood…" he started again, frowning. Merrill sighed in reply. "Are you going to… continue?" he shuddered involuntarily, but he needed to know.
"You know the answer, Samael," she pierced him through with her eyes. "I will. I want to be strong enough to take care of myself and those I love." She said it with such a vigour Samael wondered for a minute where was that awkward and fidgety girl he had brought from the Sundermount years ago. But Merrill wasn't done by a long shot. "Have you looked recently at our lives, ma vhenan? All the time… just struggling for survival. All the time… problems we need to deal with. When we go out together, everybody is staring at us – at me with disdain because I'm an elf, at you with curiosity or even condemnation of living with an elf and an apostate. Do you think that's easy for me?" she asked him desperately. "Do you think I like what light I've cast on you when I agreed to move in with you? And it's even worse when everybody see you dragging the apostates one by one into the Gallows, although you have one living right at your estate! But I am under your protection, right?" she laughed and it sounded desperate and slightly mad like this thought was eating her alive. "No Templar can touch me, right?" she shouted now, throwing her arms in the air. "That's why I called you a hypocrite and the whole Kirkwall with me," she rounded up her explanation with this surprising, yet understandable critique.
"Oh, let the bells ring, a great revelation for everyone, Samael Hawke is a hypocrite and selfish bastard!" Samael couldn't bear her honesty anymore as he yelled back at her. But he was the one who asked her to be honest in the first place and he knew that. Merrill his her face in the palms, crying silently, her strength she had mustered for this conversation dissipated at once.
"All right," Samael whispered finally after a long silence, watching the elf. "You can have mine," he added after a moment with his eyes wandering around the room.
Merrill uncovered her face, her eyes widened at that simple statement like she couldn't believe what he just had said. "Do you want it now?" Samael asked her casually, although his every sense screamed at him what the hell he was doing.
"W-what are you talking about?" she breathed out, squeezing his forearm. A mild nod was his reaction, but he saw she was amazed by his willingness. They both knew he was talking about Merrill's blood issue.
"I told you, Merrill. You are either at my side or not. There's no grey ground, nothing in the middle. It's your choice where do you want to stand," he rounded his explanation. Her expression made his fingers to trace her jawbone and he watched as she leaned into his palm, closing her eyes, and her tense face relaxed.
"I meant it," he said after a moment, more like to himself than her. "I will give you everything I can, as long as you want it and you're honest with me." Merrill's eyes shot open and Samael knew immediately there was something else on her mind, but he didn't say a thing. He watched her squirming on the bed for a moment, afraid of what she was about to tell him. When it was obvious she had no idea how to say such thing, she just blurted it out.
"Fawn kissed me," she whispered, ashamed and insecure. When Samael stayed silent, she started explaining. "I mean, I didn't want to, I swear! It just happened! He suddenly leaned to me and… I pushed him away and headed home. I knew I have to tell you, because he might bring that up to… hurt you." Merrill stared at her hands clenching the sheets, not daring looking at her lover.
Samael stayed oddly calm again, feeling like nothing could surprise him tonight. Nothing at all. Merrill was desperate though, when no reaction came from him. "Elgar'Nan, say something, please!" she shook him finally, trying to get a hold of herself.
"Hum, let me see. I mean, what the hell do you want from me?" he snapped at her. "You either want to be with him or with me. Or with somebody else, that is," he chuckled mirthlessly. "Just let me know, which one do you want and then I decide if I still want you, witch," he sneered at her, not believing he was cracking misplaced jokes about this serious matter. Her answer was quite clear since suddenly he had full arms of Merrill as she pressed kisses on his skin; everywhere she could reach. When she let him breathe again, Samael realized one question remained. Not that he would be eager to do that, but he grasped the throwing knife, thinking about where he should cut himself. His face twisted into surprised grin when Merrill caught his hand, shaking her head.
"Not now, ma vhenan," she whispered into his ear.
"So… when?" Samael set the knife on a night table, genuinely confused by this twist.
"Later?" Merrill shrugged, covering them with blankets. "Let's just sleep now," she suggested with that practical attitude of hers.
"Sounds good enough for me," Samael sighed contently, realizing again how exhausted he was. The last thought that flew through his head was about cutting off one certain body part of one importunate elf, who was foolish enough to not follow his order about keeping his smarmy hands off his woman.
"Samael?" Merrill murmured into his ear.
"Yes?" he replied, half-asleep.
"I am scared," Merrill breathed out.
"If you won't shut up and let me sleep, you'll be scared and dead," Samael pulled her even closer to him.
"Are you going to leave me?" she asked as though that were the only thing that bothered her and kept her from sleeping.
"I'm going to—" Samael had actually no idea what was he going to do about this whole situation, about Merrill, her blood-thirstiness, how to protect his friends and his position in Kirkwall. It seemed the whole situation was everything but simple and easy. But then it came to him – he was going to do for Merrill exactly the same thing that she had done for him countless times.
"I'm going to save you," Samael answered her question finally, closing the eyes again. He knew it wouldn't be easy indeed, but it was that simple.