"Bodahn, is the person on my doorstep sleeping or dead?" Hawke slammed the front door closed, marching right into the kitchen after he had stumbled over a skinny, motionless body in his way. He briefly patted the mabari bouncing around him in joy.
"Ehm, Messere, I've told you about this lad two weeks ago." The dwarf put the roast back into the oven, slapping Samael's fingers scrabbling for the piece of meat. He ignored the accusatory undertone in his master's voice like he was to blame for the squatting lad and he didn't even bother to look up at his master. "He says his name is Hein, some ramble about you saving his life and that he wants to serve you in return," Bodahn shrugged like he couldn't care less and pushed Hawke into a chair and set a silver bowl with fruit in front of him.
"I remember him," Samael sat down and started rolling the grapes on the table before he gobbled them all up. "Varric has mentioned him, but he somehow omitted to add that the boy's greatest wish is die under my command." Hawke brayed in laughter about his own joke, but Bodahn just shot at him a damning glance like these words were inappropriate considering all those dead urchins Raen had taken care of.
"The lad is persistent. I must give him that, Messere…" Bodahn's voice trailed off as he rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Shall I say to him something, Messere?" he asked directly. "You can't allow him just to squat up by the front door of your estate. What do you intend to do about him?"
"Well, nothing I guess," Hawke shrugged. "I have quite a shitstorm around me already and I certainly don't need to investigate right now if he means well or if he's just a petty thief with hope to come to my mansion, gain my trust, then rob me blind and leave." Hawke frowned after this disturbing thought had crossed his mind and the dwarf tried to distract him, but he unfortunately chose even worse topic.
"How was your visit at the Viscount's office, Messere Hawke?" Bodahn asked in a cold demeanor, but Samael knew him well enough to know he would have the old meticulous and always caring Bodahn back soon.
"Hum…" Samael reacted at the question, his mouth full of grapes. Bodahn just rolled his eyes about his master's childish behavior. "He tried to chide me because I had cut Morrell in half right in front of his delicate eyes, then he tried to make me pay for cleaning the blood, but at that point, I ceased paying attention to his endless cawing." Hawke snooped around the kitchen for anything he could eat, since the dinner was still apparently far away.
"Where's that elf of mine?" Samael droned just to himself when he found nothing eatable near him.
"Miss Merrill was carried home an hour ago by that noisy pirate friend of yours, Messere," Bodahn replied with puckered lips. "Both drunk!" he spluttered out like it was the worst possible thing. "The maidservant of course took care of our lady and she is now resting upstairs. The pirate insisted she would speak to you about something very important, but I told her to come back when she was sober," the old dwarf sizzled and cut off a huge piece of butter, then smashed it into a bowl with potatoes.
"Merrill? Drunk?" Hawke repeated the facts with arched eyebrow. The dwarf just nodded and Samael bolted upstairs to investigate what had happened. As far as he knew Merrill hadn't been drunk since her little stunt with the drinking contest. Once he was inside of the bedroom, Merrill's peacefully sleeping silhouette in the bed calmed him down as he tiptoed to the bed, sitting down slowly, so the moving mattress wouldn't wake her up. He watched her for long minutes in the dim light coming from the fireplace, until she stirred and opened her veiled eyes, observing Samael with uncertain smile on her lips.
"Samael is here…" she whispered in relief and closed her eyes again. It came to Hawke that she considered him no doubt as a dream, nothing more.
"Merrill, wake up," he shook her gently, smiling to himself about her lovely drowsiness. She opened the eyes again, then hiccupped and squirmed beneath the blankets.
"Do you want to hear a secret?" she giggled like a dove, again so tranquil and… drunk.
"Sure I want to know a secret, my dreamer," Samael glanced around the room and started pulling his boots off, thinking about taking a nap before the dinner.
"But you won't tell Samael!" Merrill demanded a promise, stretching like a cat. She tried to grab Hawke's forearm, but couldn't aim right. Hawke held back a genuine burst of laughter, but something urgent in her voice made him wait in suspense for her next words.
"No. No, I won't tell Samael about this secret." Hawke shook his head mildly. "Now tell me the secret, Merrill."
"I searched for him, you know?" The elf finally managed to grab Hawke's hand. "I really tried. I tried so hard and I wasn't able to find Samael nonetheless. He didn't want to be found. He left me. He left me!" she sobbed suddenly. "I love him and he left me anyway!" she jabbed the fingernails into Samael's flesh. Samael hissed because he didn't expect her to show such vigour proving him how he had hurt her when he disappeared for the whole week, then he came back and didn't even bother to explain properly where he had been and why. Of course they had a terse conversation about it, but Merrill apparently had hard time in getting past this. Hawke was well aware she deserved much better explanation and that he was overwhelmed with the work he had been swamped with during the last two weeks, but he was just too afraid to discuss his sins with her. Too afraid she would say 'enough'. But this waiting and evasive tactics was obviously much worse.
"Ah, Merrill…" Samael sighed, realizing how he had screwed things up again when he had stalled his return home from the compound after he got better. "What's lost can be found, my little pariah," Hawke tucked her back into the blankets, ashamed and angry at himself. The elf just murmured something indecipherable and closed the eyes. Hawke saw there would be no point in talking to Merrill right now, so he just slipped out of the armor, cursing the buckles and bands in the process, and collapsed into the bed. Somehow the refreshing sleep avoided him this time.
oOo
"Where were you?" Samael woke up when somebody shook him roughly. Merrill was sitting with her legs crossed next to him, her hair disheveled, her eyes barely unstuck and she looked like she had a headache after her drinking with Isabela.
"And good morning to you too, my love…" Samael replied with pretended jovial voice, but he was well aware of her narrowed eyes and clenched fists. When it was clear she was waiting for his explanation, Hawke coughed in uneasiness and started talking. "You do know where I was and why, Merrill," he muttered, stretching and hoping she would let go of this topic.
"Here I thought we've talked about it. You already know what happened, Merrill." Samael scratched his head, giving the elf an insecure smile. "I've got ambushed on my way to the docks," Samael added slowly, when Merrill insisted on this topic with puckered lips. When Merrill didn't say a word, he continued. "I woke up in the Qunari compound after four days. That's all I know," he finished his speech, watching the witch cautiously. Once again, Merrill stayed silent, but she opened her mouth several times like she couldn't decide what to say. Finally, she threw the arms in the air, the words rushing out of her in rather incoherent rambling.
"I… I thought you'd left me! But the ship was still in the port You have no idea how I've been searching for you, Samael! You don't even care! You just – puff. Gone. Just like that. I was so, so desperate! Nobody was able to tell me anything about you! I was so angry when shems resisted talking to me even when they clearly knew something about you! And… and…" Samael rather silenced her outburst with a tender kiss, but Merrill pulled back after a moment. "Wait, you said you woke up after four days?" she asked with her eyes narrowed.
"Well… I intended to go home as soon as I could, but…" Samael stammered, averting his gaze and unable to bear the pain Merrill had in her lucid eyes. She stayed silent for long minutes, clearly contemplating Hawke's words, but Samael felt he had to explain much better.
"Merrill, it's…" the assassin shook his head when he couldn't find the proper words here. "It's not like I didn't care you were worried about me!" he threw arms in the air. "After all that was happening, I just found myself in need to have a few calm days, that's all. Just a couple of days for myself." Hawke's eyes were pleading with her to understand. Merrill simply watched him with her eyebrows knitting and fingers.
"You miss her, don't you." It wasn't a question. Merrill fell back into the bed, staring at the ceiling. Samael let out a rather desperate laugh, but his voice died away soon. Just the fact he perfectly knew of whom Merrill spoke was the evidence she was right. "You are mourning her," she continued, her voice still very quiet and wounded.
"Ridiculous!" Hawke laughed in anxiety to cover up he still had a problem to get over Haydée's death. "That's ridiculous…" Samael whispered to himself in disbelief, rummaging through his thoughts. He realized after several minutes he had been watched the whole time.
"All right, Merrill. I… Yes, I think I liked her because… because…" Samael snorted and threw the arms sideways, searching unsuccessfully for the way out of this conversation.
"Because you two were alike, ma vhenan," Merrill finished his sentence for him; her every word bleeding. This statement left Hawke pretty much astounded and he had nothing more to say about this matter.
"Haydée's dead, Merrill…" Samael breathed out finally, not knowing if he was telling that to her or to himself for hundred times. "Look, Merrill, we've been through a lot lately. I know it's hard to be around me, but—" Samael realized he was just rambling, too insecure about this whole situation. Merrill was obviously thinking the same since she put a finger across Hawke's lips to silence him, shaking her head like the words were futile here.
"I just need to know one thing, Hawke." Merrill set her wide open eyes at her lover, searching his expressive face. Hawke just kissed her finger still touching his lips, nodding at her like he would answer any question. "Do I still have you?" Merrill peeped, not taking her glowing green eyes off him. Samael replied with slow sad smile before he replied with a question.
"Yes. Yes, you do. And do I?" he asked quietly, lowering his head, too afraid of the answer.
"Yes, ma vhenan," Merrill's eyes widened like she couldn't believe Hawke needed her to confirm the obvious. "You've always had me," she cuddled by his side as his arms slipped around her tightly.
"Good," Samael breathed out and pulled her as close as he could. The long silence that followed was precious, but Hawke couldn't afford to put off his duties today, so he interrupted it eventually.
"Are you coming with me, my little pariah?" Samael asked after a long silence of blissful wallowing in the bed. "I was told Xenon is back in his Emporium and I would love to ask him a few questions like why the hell his golem thought I was a punching bag or why he disappeared in the first place. Then I am summoned to the Qunari compound… again."
"Of course, ma vhenan. But I wanted to visit the alienage today as well, so if you don't mind, I will go with you just to visit that old creepy man," Merrill stretched and rolled over to face her lover.
"All right, we go to Xenon together, then I'll have a charming meeting with the Arishok, so I guess you can go visit the alienage instead. I don't like those giants staring at you anyway," Samael sneered, his eyes hungrily watching the slender body in his arms. He laughed at himself as he realized how much he wanted to have her by his side all the time, but then his thoughts went back to the Qunari mess. "Apparently there was yet another clash between the Qunari karataam and several Chantry zealots." Samael scowled when he realized how he hadn't missed these eternal quarrels around the Qunari in this city.
"Are we going like now?" Merrill found her lover's lips and kissed them fondly before she asked.
"I don't think so…" Hawke pulled a blanket over their heads and silenced the giggling elf in no time.
oOo
"Oh, tunnels and caves! I like tunnels and caves!" Merrill poked the crumbling sewer wall with her staff, then she realized Samael with Aveline by his side were ahead of her a few steps, so she hurried to catch up with them.
"You hate caves and tunnels, Merrill," Hawke rolled his eyes, glancing at her over his shoulder.
"Ah, you're right, ma vhenan." The Dalish girl replied, looking around in disquiet suddenly. "They are so dark and dismal and always full of spiders, angry spirits or half-mad apostates—"
"—says the half-mad apostate!" Fenris snarled right behind her, making her jump.
"Fenris…" Hawke gave his lyrium warrior a long look telling him to keep these insults to himself. The elf sneered in return, but he continued walking in silence.
"Here we are." The Captain drew her sword, stepping cautiously forward, right to the new black sturdy door leading to the Black Emporium.
"Is that necessary?" Hawke's eyes were following Aveline's long sword.
"Pardon me if I'm mistaken, Hawke, but weren't you attacked by a mad golem the last time you showed up here?" Aveline silenced him with a scorching glare, opening the door vigorously. They walked in silence forward until a tired voice reached them.
"Ah, I've been expecting you, young Messere Hawke." Samael squinted through the shadows to find the owner of this rusty voice and there he was – Xenon, sitting in his armchair and surrounded by three young urchins.
"Cut the crap, you old charlatan," Hawke growled in reply, stalking right in front of the impressive armchair. One his annihilating glare persuaded the urchins to scurry away. "I'm much more interested about another matter. Why did you order the golem to attack me?" Hawke clasped the katana hilt, his eyes shooting fire at the old emporium proprietor.
"You destroyed my shop, you've turned my poor beloved Bombastus Gigantus Crumbum the Third into an icicle and you dare coming here and demanding an explanation?" Xenon's voice thundered in the crammed emporium, a few spiders fell from the ceiling, urchins squealed in their hiding place, but Samael wasn't scared at all. His hand shot out and squeezed Xenon's parched throat while the other hand ripped out the katana out of its scabbard.
"I'm perfectly aware you somehow managed to cheat the death, dear Xenon the Antiquarian, but I'm also pretty sure you would die as any other if I chop you into twitching pieces with my katana." Samael hissed these words right into something what could have been Xenon's ear once, waiting for a response. Xenon gulped when the weapon flashed in front of his eyes, but other than that he didn't seem concerned at all.
"The golem was supposed to guard the emporium, you scoundrel. Nothing more. Now get that thing out of my face or the consequences will be grave for both of us indeed." There was such a threat in Xenon's voice, Hawke lowered the katana after a moment, glowering at him and intending to step back, but Xenon's arm yanked him even closer. "I know what you two have done, young Hawke," Xenon whispered into his ear, glancing at the fidgeting Merrill, who would like to intervene and drag her lover away from the frightening old man. "I can smell you inside of her…" Xenon continued, realizing Samael shuddered after these words. "In the end of this, there would be a price nobody will be willing to pay." Xenon shoved the young man away, their eyes clashing for a long minute as Samael was estimating how much Xenon knew and how he knew in the first place. "Mark my words, young Hawke." Xenon slowly closed his eyes, stirred for the last time before his body froze and he started snoring.
"Very helpful as always, damn it!" Samael shouted at the sleeping mummy and the urchins' eyes peering at him from the alcoves disappeared at once. Merrill strolled by his side to calm him down, taking his hand into hers both. They left the emporium when it was clear Xenon was done talking for the day.
oOo
"Shanedan, Arishok." Hawke stalked without hesitation through the Qunari compound and halted right in front of the Qunari leader. He didn't realize Fenris and Aveline were gaping at him because of this greeting and they were even more surprised when the Arishok slowly rose to his full height, giving Hawke a long, thoughtful gaze while he looked like he was watching something very pleasing indeed. Samael was used to the Arishok's eternal staring, so he waited patiently until the giant gestured towards the armchair he had ordered to bring here for Hawke along with fruit bowl and two goblets of mead. Hawke glanced a bit insecure at his companions since there were obviously no seats for them, but Aveline just shrugged and made a few steps back along with Fenris like she challenged Hawke to talk to the Arishok without them since it was clearly the giant's intention anyway.
"My patience is strained, Hawke," the Arishok grumbled once they had no listeners. "Only a few from one of my last karataams returned after they've been attacked by your Chantry kneelers and as if that wasn't enough, there was a thief here last night."
"A thief?" Samael spluttered out his favorite mead he had been drinking happily. The Arishok glanced at him briefly with a lenient sneer on his lips before he realized they were being watched, so he just continued in the conversation.
"A thief fell into a trap like I expected and he stole something he thought was a Gaatlok formula." The Qunari leaned backwards in his armchair, obviously satisfied with this outcome.
"What he thought was a blackpowder recipe?" Hawke repeated the words with his eyes narrowed since now the Arishok managed to snatch his full attention. "What was it then if not that Gaatlok formula?"
"It was a decoy. Saar Gamek, the poison gas. It was—" the Arishok started explaining, but Hawke interrupted him rudely.
"— you actually let that thief to steal anything from you?" Samael had a problem to fathom what was the purpose of allowing anyone to steal anything at all. "Why? What good that would do?" To Hawke's astonishment, the Arishok just shrugged like it simply happened and there was no point in talking about it over and over again.
"If you don't want to discuss this thief, why have you summoned me then?" Samael lowered his head in submission, too afraid he would say something inappropriate about the Qunari wasting his time.
"You will want to hunt this thief, Hawke." The Qunari jabbed his bottomless eyes into him, waiting for a reaction. Hawke jumped up in disquiet and started pacing around the throne.
"Why should I?" he halted in front of the Arishok with a question. "Tell me one good reason why should I care at all," he demanded an explanation. When it looked like the Arishok had none, the Qunari spoke again.
"Thousands will die, Hawke," he grunted and Samael froze on the spot, contemplating this information.
"And?" Samael asked quietly after a moment.
"You don't want to save your brethren who might die if this thief decides to make the poison gas, Hawke?" the Arishok seemed genuinely surprised.
"I am not some holy savior of this city!" Samael almost yelled in reply, sick of being dragged again and again into the dire affairs, dark conspiracies and danger.
"But you do know now something bad is going to happen very soon. Will you do nothing?" the Qunari raised an eyebrow at Hawke, obviously trying to understand the human.
"Does it affect me? My friends? I don't think so. Does it affect you in any way since I know this substance is no danger for the Qunari people?" Hawke threw his arms sideways, watching the silent Qunari in suspense.
"Fixing the mess in this city is not the demand of the Qun," Arishok shook his head, the ribbons in his hair streaming in the mild breeze. "But you, Hawke, you will want to hunt him."
"You're mistaken." Hawke collapsed back into his armchair, hiding his face in palms. "What I want is to leave these shores for good, leaving this cursed city behind for good and return home." He twitched when he felt the Qunari's huge hand touching him and forcing him gently to uncover the face. "I am this close to making it happen, Arishok…" Samael gestured how little was to be yet done before he would leave Kirkwall. He slowly stood up, sighing when he saw Fenris and Aveline were watching the whole conversation with their mouths hanging, although they weren't able to hear anything.
"My patience is strained, Hawke," the Arishok repeated his main topic of their conversation and his voice sounded deaf.
"I know. It won't take long before the end, Qunari," Samael whispered in reply, not really knowing why he had said that, but he sounded sad.
"Panahedan, Hawke." The Arishok granted him one last intense gaze before he walked away from him and disappeared in his quarters.
"Until we meet again…" Samael murmured to himself, thinking that their next encounter might be drowned in blood judging by the last events.
oOo
Hawke spent the afternoon without Merrill, lost in his thoughts and ruminating over what was happening in Kirkwall and how would this all end. The Templars were getting more and more furious, driving the mages into extreme and desperate actions and the Grand Cleric Elthina remained as always neutral and she denied with stubbornness even the tiniest involvement of the faithful regarding the Qunari in the city. The Arishok made clear that he stood on the edge of his patience and Hawke was sure he didn't want to live as long to see what would happen once the goblet of Qunari patience would overflow.
Varric was very busy during those days, Samael hadn't seen him in a week, Fawn was gone, Isabela was holed up in her new room at the Hanged Man, and Anders had a tough week, hiding from the Templar hunter who had sniffed out his Darktown clinic. Only Aveline seemed to have a pleasant week, since Donnic and she finally 'hit that thing' as Varric put it, when he demanded some spicy details regarding Donnic's bed skills. Since the birthday party, Fenris calmed down finally because Hawke started visiting him again, although Merrill seemed to have a problem with his daily visits of the lyrium warrior's mansion.
Hawke's fingers were mindlessly playing with the cold black ring while he was thinking and time to time he patted Charon's head drooling in bliss on his lap. It was now when he had woken up from his silent musing, realizing it was already dark outside and Merrill was supposed to be home for a few hours now. The ring twitched like it felt Samael's anxiety, but the assassin was used to these unexpected stunts the ring was doing sometimes.
A commotion by the front door ripped Hawke out of his thoughts as he pushed Charon off him and stalked there.
"Do you know there's some homeless bum sleeping right on your doorstep, Hawke?" Varric dashed inside and poured himself a drink like he was home there.
"Varric…?" Hawke growled at the jovial dwarf when Ichabod marched in right after him and seated himself on the edge of the sofa, wriggling. Samael's face was daring Varric to come up with some explanation why Bane was with him and that explanation better be very good.
"What?" Varric gave him an innocent grin, but somehow Samael didn't buy it.
"What is he doing here, Varric?" Hawke hissed, so Ichabod wouldn't hear it. "I thought that last time I explicitly told you that—"
"C'mon Hawke, don't be such lout." Varric laughed, but once again, Hawke caught that odd anxious undertone. "He'll be quiet and play like a good boy," the dwarf sneered, dismissing the topic.
"Messere, two bits of news." Bodahn came running from the basement, having hard time to catch a breath again.
"Tell me the bad news first," Hawke sighed when he saw Bodahn's glum face. Despite the remark, Bodahn started with the better information.
"The good news is that the builder claims you will have new horse barn for that over-sized beast by the end of the week, Messere Hawke." Bodahn frowned when he reminisced about the magnificent stallion Occela whom Fawn had left here as a gift for Samael. Hawke waved his hand like Bodahn should continue.
"Messere Hawke, that bloody thing is gone," Bodahn muttered to his shoes, fidgeting.
"Come again?" Samael crept slowly to his faithful servant with his eyes narrowed.
"I am very sorry, Messere, but that horse has escaped the City Guard stable this morning," Bodahn glanced at his master this time, awaiting his wrath. To his surprise, Hawke just went to fix himself a double whiskey shot, crushing curses between his teeth.
"Now I know at least what Fawn meant when he claimed he and Occela shared a similar personality." Samael grunted to himself, gulping down the whiskey. "Fucking brilliant," he added after a moment when he was pouring himself yet another drink. "Easy to gain, easy to lose…" Hawke chuckled bitterly, then hissed in pain when the ring on his finger flared with bright green light.
"—go to hell, you mimsy spinster, I have problems too!" A sudden penetrating voice then continued with a chain of the worst pirate insults Hawke had ever heard.
"Don't you dare bothering Hawke with your selfish prattle and go spreading legs someplace else, you pirate floozy!" Judging by the choked thud, Aveline punched Isabela to underline her words. "And I am no spinster, whore!" Aveline's venomous voice died away in clanking of her armor when Isabela had attacked her in return.
"Well, good for you. We'll see how long it takes to Donnic to realize you're the one wearing pants in this relationship, you—"
"Shut the fuck up! Both of you!" Samael shouted. Isabela started groping for her splendid golden weapons while Aveline grasped the sword hilt when Hawke rushed to them, ending the quarrel immediately.
"Hawke, a part of Lowtown has been infested with some gas. The people are going crazy, then they drop dead, I need your help investigating what's going on!" Aveline spluttered out, marching to him like she would love to drag him there right away.
"I'm going to die! There. Got your full attention I hope." Isabela pushed the Captain away and her voice was trembling when she set her pleading eyes at Hawke. Aveline stirred and her hand started fumbling for the sword again, but Hawke calmed her down with a raised hand.
"What's this about?" Samael turned to the pirate queen first, ignoring the snorting Guards Captain for now.
"Remember that relic I was pursuing for so long? I think that— " Isabela started her explanation.
"Come on, Bela, I thought we were talking about this. Fuck this relic. When Castillon shows up, just let me know and I'll take him down," Samael scoffed like he couldn't fathom why Isabela was so upset.
"Care to hear about actual problems now?" Aveline glared at the assassin, challenging him to say no.
"Hit me," Samael shrugged but turned around and stomped into the main hall since he had a feeling Aveline would see on his face, that he had anticipated this event and he could have probably stopped whomever did this. Once again, Samael was rubbing the ring without knowing it, but he felt worse and worse from unknown reasons. The words engraved on the ring sprang to his mind while he tried to listen to Aveline, but wasn't able to.
I am that which binds and cannot be undone…
"The Arishok made clear that poison gas came from his compound, but he claims somebody stole it last night. Can you believe it? He hasn't said a word about it until a thought he might have something to do with it crossed my mind. We need to go there right now, Hawke! To help people, stop that bastard who did this. The Viscount will go mad once he learns about this, damn it!" Aveline started pacing around Hawke, not paying attention to anything but her outburst.
Before you don me make sure of your one…
"Hawke! Are you even listening to me?" Aveline shook him roughly when she realized Samael was staring at nothing particular with a blank expression.
"Hawke?" Varric seemed frightened when he stalked to the silent assassin. Obviously he had been watching him for some time now.
"I…" Samael rubbed his temples when he had woken up and glanced around wildly. "I need to go," he breathed out, his hands shaking.
"What?" Both Isabela and Aveline shouted the same question when it slowly came to them, Hawke wasn't about to help either of them.
"What the hell is going on, Hawke?" Aveline looked like she would drag Hawke to deal with the poison gas even against his will if necessary.
"You still don't get it, Samael! I need that book to get Castillon off my back!" Isabela yelled with horror in her eyes.
"Merrill..." Samael shook his head, grabbed the light cloak he found slinging over an armchair and buckled the belt with the katana on it hastily.
"All right, Hawke, it has something to do with Merrill. And…? Where is she?" Varric caught the cloak, demanding an explanation.
"Yes… Merrill," Samael turned at him with widened eyes, yanking the cloak out of the dwarf's grasp.
"She is at…" Samael's voice cracked as he shook his head in despair. A single word slipped out of his mouth before he whirled around and ran away with Charon at his heels.
"Sundermount."
oOo
Samael realized he had reached Sundermount in a record time. The ring flashing in urgency and burning on his finger was spurring him into an insane running tempo and Samael once more cursed Occela since he could use a horse right now. Charon seemed very cheerful by this unexpected runaway from Kirkwall; he considered it a contest no doubt as he was happily running by his master's side with his tongue lolling out of the maw.
What had Marethari said last time he saw her? Sundermount was forbidden to Merrill and she would be killed if she happened to show there ever again – that was it. And now the ring was telling him over and over again Merrill was right in her former brethren's camp and Samael realized it was not his fear that had flooded into his mind once more; it was Merrill's fear, but somehow he was able to feel it, either through the ring or their blood bond.
The Dalish camp was nearby when Hawke finally halted and bent over to catch a breath. If Samael wanted to scout the environs first, his own worries and fear for Merrill wouldn't let him, so he marched forward until three elves stood in his way with arms folded on their chests.
"Where is she?" Samael went straight to the point, searching the stout faces in front of him one by one.
"She broke the sacred law of Elvhenan people and she will bear the consequences, shem." A tall elf spoke; sneering at Hawke like nothing could make him more cheerful than Merrill's death.
"Get out of my way," Samael growled and the katana flashed in his hand in one imperceptible move.
"Don't you dare interfere, human!" The other elf shrieked and stepped forward. A long painful cry of pain reached them and they all fell silent and turned around. When the elves came back to themselves, Hawke was sneaking past them and as they tried to catch him, the mabari snarled and cut their way off, buying some time to his master to get to the camp.
The scene in front of Samael left him speechless. Merrill was levitating with her eyes closed in the middle of the circle of the Dalish elves, she was surrounded by six tall Shades and Marethari was kneeling right in front of her with a blade stuck in her chest, gasping for air. As Merrill waved her fingers, the Shades started flowing inaudibly towards the Keeper and they enveloped her in such way nobody could see her. Just a final scream of pain let them all know the Keeper Marethari was dead. The elves watched the whole fight between their Keeper and her banished First breathless, but they all anticipated Marethari would win and get rid of Merrill for good. Now she was lying on the ground, the dirt drinking her blood hungrily, as the Shades returned to their posts by their mistress – Merrill.
Samael started creeping closer to his woman, realizing the deafening silence around him and nobody dared stopping him. When he was close enough, the Shades swiveled their faceless heads towards him, awaiting orders from their summoner, but none came, so they started approaching Hawke, clearly intending to kill him as well.
"You all were created through my blood, foul creatures, so don't you dare touching me!" Samael raised the katana, ready to defend himself. To his astonishment, the Shades halted and Merrill opened her red eyes at that moment, surprised, confused, as her feet touched the ground again.
"Wha… Why… What h-happened?" she stammered, but only the silence was an answer. Samael slowly approached her, watching her and the dead body in disquiet. When Merrill noticed Marethari's corpse, she fell on her knees by her with a sigh full of pain, her eyes widened in shock and panic. Only now she fully realized what had happened.
"You fought with her. You won," Hawke stated the obvious since Merrill needed to hear that. She started shaking her head, the big tears rolling in silence down her cheeks.
"It can't be. It wasn't supposed to happen. Please, this can't be true…" she started sobbing and let Hawke to get her up and cry into his chest. Hawke knew which aravel was Marethari's, so he brought Merrill there to keep her away from her former brethren, who remained oddly silent and motionless. He saw well she needed a few moments alone, so he just squeezed mutely her shoulder, left Charon to guard the entrance to the aravel and strolled around the camp for a while. Once again, nobody dared approach him or talk to him.
It took Merrill an hour before she emerged from her hideout and when Samael saw her face, his heart skipped a beat. It was lifeless, with no expression, her eyes still crimson and she looked like a part of her had died along with the Keeper.
"We need to talk." Merrill waved her hand at Hawke and waited for him to come to her. Samael just arched an eyebrow after this terse command, but he gulped the remark about being ordered in such way and sauntered to her. All he wanted was to get Merrill out of there and forget about this whole event as soon as possible.
"So?" Hawke touched her waist hesitantly. "What happened? Why did you come here?" he asked in suspense and his eyes narrowed when Merrill shivered and stepped back, so he wouldn't be touching her.
"I went to the alienage." Merrill started talking slowly, like her memory was blurred and she was uncertain. "I remember passing the Tree there," she glanced at her lover, "then… nothing."
"Nothing?" Hawke repeated. "You don't remember how you've ended up here?" he watched her in disbelief.
"No," she shook her head and started quivering again.
"All right," Samael brushed his forehead, realizing Charon was circling around them, guarding them and growling at the gaping elves. "Let's just get out of here, shall we?" he slowly took Merrill's cold hand and made a hesitant step away. Merrill just shook her again, watching her lover with sad eyes.
"I can't, ma vhenan," she whispered at his mute question about what was wrong.
"Of course you can, my little pariah," Samael countered, his voice hoarse and insecure. Something was definitely very wrong here.
"You don't understand, Samael!" Merrill shook him in vigour, her eyes flashing in the sunset. "I killed her. I killed the Keeper!" she shouted in despair, pacing around Hawke.
"And you had no choice about it, Merrill. It was either you or her. Now let's go!" Samael replied, tensed.
"I am the Keeper now, Samael." Merrill halted right in front of him and said this sentence slowly and distinctly, so Hawke would hear and understand each word perfectly.
"What?" Samael laughed, searching desperately for an explanation here.
"I am their Keeper now," Merrill gestured at her former brethren, "they need me." She granted him a cold glare, daring him to question her statement.
"Need you?" Hawke laughed again, but this time it chilled Merrill's very core. "They hate you, Merrill!" he grasped her by her waist and pulled her closer.
"They do not!" she wriggled out of his arms and clenched the staff.
"Yes they do!" Hawke countered vigorously, glancing around, realizing the whole clan was watching them. After his ardent speech, Merrill fell silent, like she had nothing more to say, but Hawke was far from considering this conversation as over.
"So what now?" he asked quietly, but he saw her reply written across her wretched face. "You're not coming home with me?" Samael whispered instead of her when it was clear she wouldn't say it out loud. She simply nodded in reply and this simple gesture broke him.
"I thought I could do this, ma vhenan," she rasped and stalked to him.
"No, no, no, no…" Samael started shaking his head in vigour, clasping her shoulders.
"I thought I could leave my old life and be with you forever," she placed a cold hand on his cheek.
"Don't… Don't… Please, Merrill, don't do this —" Samael's voice cracked as he cupped her face with both hands.
"I have to, ma vhenan. I was brought here for a reason. I am the Keeper now." Merrill kept saying that, but her words couldn't reach Hawke. Samael let go of her, his jaw set, so he wouldn't beg not to leave him, but his eyes did that anyway. He was able to nod and he stepped three steps backwards from her. Even now, he half-expected Merrill would giggle and tell him this all was just a bad joke. Charon was watching them during the painful conversation in turns and he had no idea what was happening, though he was able to feel his master's growing anxiety and sorrow in his voice.
"So…" Samael glanced around and clenched his fists to hide his shaking hands.
"So…" Merrill coughed in uneasiness, making a single step towards him. "Will you come visit me?" she peeped, but she saw well something was dying in Hawke's eyes. He took his time with a reply and even then his "yes" was almost inaudible.
"Soon?" Merrill held back her tears, when she watched Samael's face transforming into a bloodless mask.
"No." Samael turned around like he had nothing else to say to her. Charon cocked the head, still trying to figure out what was going on, but he followed obediently his master.
"Samael!" Merrill cried out his name and she had a strong feeling this was the last time she would see Samael Hawke indeed. He didn't say anything, but he halted and slowly turned back to face her again.
"I love you," she whimpered, her eyes begging him to understand.
"Not enough apparently…" Samael countered with a bitter remark, whirled around and left the Dalish camp.
oOo
"Perfect…" Hawke murmured and glanced up at the heavy clouds above his head. The storm was coming. He was soaked to his bones when he had reached Kirkwall gates and only now he started thinking about where he was going anyway. Charon kept sauntering by the assassin's side, wondering no doubt why they weren't running home to hide from the storm and taking a slow walk instead. When Hawke reached his estate, he watched the dim windows for a long time. The thought about Merrill leaving him echoed in his mind only a little, yet he wasn't able to go inside and admit Merrill wouldn't be there, ever again. Charon whined when Samael came unstuck from the weeping wall and started walking away from the estate, but as always, he followed the master no matter what. When Samael glanced around him for second time, he realized he was crawling through Lowtown. Nothing could have prepared him for the fact he was standing right in front of the Ichabod Bane's inconspicuous house and the blinking candles in the windows were calling him.
Merrill left me.
Samael walked through broken wicket leading to Bane's front door.
Merrill left me.
Samael shambled right to the new doors he had paid for when the Dalish girl destroyed it.
Merrill left me.
Samael leaned on the door frame with his right arm, pounded on the door with his left palm and let his head hung. His long hair was drenched now, stuck to his head and he watched as the rain kept dribbling down his black hair braids, then they formed into round drops and fell on the ground to be replaced with others.
Merrill left me.
The sturdy door screeched and opened while Hawke's left arm pounding softly on it fell helplessly down along his body. When Samael slowly straightened his head up again, he was as always ensnared into milky emptiness of Bane's eyes. No. Samael really had no idea why, of all the people and all the places in Kirkwall, he had ended up on the Ichabod Bane's doorstep, but oddly enough, he just did and he awaited Ichabod's reaction with tension. No word between them when Ichabod pushed the front door open a bit more, so Hawke could walk in. Samael watched this mute gesture of invitation with indifference and Ichabod seemed genuinely scared when he didn't move even after he had invited him inside.
"C'mon, silly lad, I don't have all night to stand here in this draft…" Ichabod grumbled, but he regretted immediately his stark voice since Samael jerked and made a cautious step back. "Stubborn…" Ichabod snorted and yanked the assassin inside, slamming the door close. He was indeed curious what made Samael come here in this late hour, but he decided not to pry when he had a chance to observe the trembling man, his soaked clothes and his ashen face.
So they stood there in the small, almost empty front room, watching each other, not aware of their desire that the other one would say something, anything.
"Can I sleep here tonight?" Hawke finally managed to form his reason why he had come here into words.
"Yes." Ichabod replied right away and led the assassin to the droning fireplace, pushing an ugly fat glass with brandy into his hand.
When Ichabod Bane watched his sleeping son later, there was nothing but pure delight on his face. He didn't know nor care to what or whom he should be grateful for leading his son to him; but he indeed was.