A/N: Holy cripes, people, you are so amazing. I am truly humbled by all the fabulous reviews, and by so many people setting story alerts. You guys are awesome. I am a bit nervous I can't deliver the goods now, but I'll try my best. The pace is still a bit slow, the best plans need some time to get in motion.
"Kitten, I didn't expect to see you back so soon. What a lovely surprise!" Isabela was never shy with her affection for the Dalish and nuzzled her hair playfully, before plopping back down on her chair. "You're lucky to find me here, because Varric and I have a business meeting later." She rubbed her hands gleefully. The two of them were conquering Kirkwall with their 'Jester' brand fiction. Thin pamphlets more widely spread than Anders' manifesto, full of racy stories and ravishing and ravished heroes.
"Oh, oh, if you are busy, I can come back another time. I wouldn't want to be a bother, Isabela." Merrill did not sit down yet because she really hoped to catch her friend at a moment that she actually had time to talk to her. It had been her first impulse to head back to the Hanged Man after she finished her morning tea, in her eagerness to get the ball rolling. The sooner she started, the earlier she would have her revenge.
The Rivaini grinned and kicked a chair out for Merrill. "Sit down, let's talk. We haven't had a good talk in forever. I swear, I'll drag you out by one of your lovely ears. You always sit in front of your mirror and never have time for me anymore. Too much work, not enough play, kitten. Don't you want to go to the market with me? I promise I won't abandon you for handsome sailors next time!" She pouted beautifully, and Merrill laughed, reaching out to squeeze one of her friend's hands. Isabela drank some beer, which made Merrill wrinkle her nose. She was still feeling a slight pounding behind her eyes, but Isabela was already drinking again, before noon. "Come on, kitten, you're never here without a reason these days. What can I do for you?"
It was the opening that Merrill had hoped for. Amongst their circle, no one was likelier to run her mouth and gossip fiercely than Isabela. Varric was a close second, but Isabela ruled supreme at this game. The racier the gossip, the more she was wont to talk about it. Merrill leaned to her and hurriedly whispered "What's this with Hawke and Fenris? Are they doing...dirty things? They seemed very intense last night." She actually blushed, not because of the content of her question, but her deceiving her friend like this. She wished she could be upfront about it, but she did not dare. Isabela would never keep quiet about it.
Of course the question was just feeding the bright gossip flame that was Isabela. She looked delighted at this. "Aren't they ridiculously obvious? Hawke is just exploding with all her emotions, she can't hide anything at all." Isabela had made no secret of it to Merrill that she found Hawke endearing but boring. She never responded to the Rivaini's flirtations, usually had no interest in partying or Diamondback nights, and was more likely to follow the path of righteousness than any path of profit. She turned down money if it went against her principles. Boring, boring, boring. "Him, he stops brooding around her, it's quite amazing. I am however very sure that they haven't done anything yet. There's just too much tension between them. She's actually coming by later. She wanted my advice. It's the only reason that I am up this early." She laughed, this deep, throaty laugh of true merriment. "She will be so uncomfortable, kitten, don't you think? So much fun."
Merrill was fascinated. What could Hawke want? Maybe something similar to her own visit with Isabela. Advice about Fenris possibly? And who better to sit in on it than Merrill, innocent Dalish elf, a meek kitten who would listen with big green eyes, shy giggles and fierce blushes at every suitable moment. "Oh, I hope it's not a problem I am here. I guess I could leave, I didn't know you were waiting for Hawke."
Isabela shook her head. "Girls talk, I don't see why you wouldn't be able to stay. Look, there she is." The Rivaini pointed at the door where a tired looking Hawke entered the room. She was in full armor, with a tall sword worn on her back. She looked calm and collected as always, albeit having dark circles underneath her eyes. Merrill studied her with pursed lips. There was no doubt that Hawke was beautiful, strong, quite intelligent for someone who usually whacked people with a giant sword, and charismatic on top of it all. There was also no doubt that she was an innocent maiden who happened to be a righteous, pompous ass on her worst days. Merrill kept a smile plastered to her face, as she greeted Hawke with a cheerful wave.
Hawke waved back, almost shyly, when she took a seat next to Merrill. "Good morning. I really didn't count on you being up already, Isabela, or for you being here as well, Merrill. I hope you're both well." Always flawlessly polite, well-mannered, that was their Hawke. She rubbed her nose and then fidgeted with her hands. Merrill could relate to this, as she usually fidgeted with her scarf when she got this nervous. "Ah, I was hoping for some advice in areas I am not comfortable with." She actually blushed, and kept rubbing her nose.
Merrill reached out and gently pulled Hawke's hand to rest between her own hands. "If you keep rubbing like this, your nose will disappear. You would look funny without a nose." Hawke turned her head to look at the elf, laughing softly. Her strong, calloused hand relaxed between Merrill's far more delicate hands. It was a good first step. From now on, Merrill would have to be there for Hawke, be her friend, her companion, her confidante. Never shy with physical affection. Always there. Ready to pick her up whenever Fenris hurt or confused her. Ready to...use unconventional means for making her calm down. Merrill pressed her lips together briefly at the thought, as tantalizing, pretty images were in her head. Hawke's hand felt very nice. This would be the best revenge ever.
Hawke took a deep breath and finally spoke up. "Girls, I think I am in love, but I don't know how to do this." Isabela leaned forward eagerly, her amber eyes alight with amusement, whereas Merrill still held Hawke's hand, all reassuringly, of course. "Can you help me?"
Isabela took a long swig of beer, chortling. "Of course we can, sweetcheeks. You only have to tell us what kind of help you need. Is it the kind where you want to bed him, I can provide advice that will make your toes curl, and you'll race straight to his mansion. If you are looking for different advice, like courtship, you might have to ask our local expert. Aveline." At that she burst out laughing, in memory of the almost tragic courtship period with Donnic.
Hawke tensed at this, which made Merrill throw an arm around Hawke's shoulders, the other hand still holding on to Hawke's hand. "Ah, don't worry. Isabela will be able to help you, certainly. Just talk. Getting it out will help, won't it? She might educate the both of us!" Again, Hawke relaxed. So far Merrill seemed to find just the right notes to calm her down, which made the elf smile.
"Ah, well, what I mostly need is advice regarding how to proceed. Figure out if I am reading the signs correctly." Hawke propped an elbow up on the table and rested her chin in her palm, while her other hand's fingers laced with Merrill's, almost naturally. "I don't even know if he's interested in me, you know? It's easier to tell with...say, Anders, he is a bit more forward, even though I am not interested in him at all." She let out a sigh of frustration.
Isabela snorted at that. "Honey, you have to be blind not to see he's interested. When he thinks you're not looking, he just stares at you, all mooning. I would have thought he's more direct, he certainly always seemed interested in my advances, but with you he seems to go all shy." Hawke's eyes had widened when Isabela indicated her own interest, and once again, Merrill was reminded of the Darktown puppies, downtrodden and oft-kicked. By the creators, Fenris and Hawke both were hopeless. "Relax, I won't touch him if you want him. I have my standards. It's not like I am some kind of homewrecker."
Merrill sat stiffly, her arm still around Hawke's shoulders. Isabela's words were strangely piercing. Was it right to be so vindictive? The elf remembered a time when she was more gentle, nicer. Then she remembered Fenris calling her a monster while she was grieving for Pol, and her doubts were wiped away. A homewrecker she would be.
Hawke seemed relieved and with a blush on her cheeks gratefully nodded to Isabela. "What should I do now? I mean, you would probably suggest that I just head to his mansion and resolve it, but that's not how I work. I want to wait for him, have him come for me. I want to make sure he understands my feelings, without being pushy." Her eyes glazed over, her mind probably lingering on most romantic notions. It was enough to make Merrill's stomach churn a bit. So bland and so overly sweet it made your teeth fall out..
Isabela broke Hawke's daydream with another fit of laughter. "I am sorry, honey, but you came to the wrong girl. Varric is far more of a romantic than I will ever be. I deal in raw passion, in two bodies colliding, in mindless rutting. In dark alleys, in proper estates like yours, or in ruins like his. I don't do this romance thing, sorry to disappoint." When Hawke looked at her full of disappointment, she reached out to ruffle Hawke's hair. "Don't worry. I mean, look, you are sitting next to the most adorable person I know. She is probably full of romantic notions. Aren't you, Merrill?"
That was enough to make Merrill stutter, and she blushed, up to the tips of her ears. "Uh, I don't know about that." She let go of Hawke's shoulder and hand and started fidgeting with her scarf. It was not that she was embarrassed, though she was also that, but that her mind was now working feverishly. What could she possibly tell Hawke? The opportunities. She could just make up things that would delay their relationship, grant her more time to truly put a wedge between them. She took a deep breath. "It's all terribly romantic, I think. I just wish I knew more about Tevinter elves. He is...somewhat reluctant to tell me much." She smiled apologetically.
"I really don't know if their traditions are the same as ours. Dalish have a lot of arranged marriages and courtship is very formal. Sometimes, if an Arlathvenn is going to happen in the near future, they will wait until the time of the meeting." She scratched her head for a moment. "Ah, the Arlathvenn are once a decade. I joined the Sabrae at such a meeting, when I was four years old."
Merrill smiled thinly at that, and both her current companions gave her sympathetic smiles. Fools. They thought her discomfort was talking about the Sabrae, and her cultural background, when in truth she was worried that she was laying it on too thickly. Hawke would never wait years for Fenris. Her story was hardly the truth so far. There was nothing formal about the Dalish other than their rites. Mating, love, courtship, it all seemed a lot easier than what she had seen amongst the city elves and the humans. The Dalish did not have the weight of the Chantry dragging their relations down.
The elf rubbed her chin for a moment. "He probably is currently only looking for something physical. He doesn't seem like he's ready to form any emotional attachment. He is too angry for that. You might have to find his slave master first." She chuckled at this. "He is driven with his past the way I am driven by the heritage of my people. Priorities, you understand. But I will think about this, Hawke, I promise. I have books about the Tevinter, and I will also go see the library. I love their history selection. I will find out more about the Tevinter elves, so that I will be able to help you better. Surely we can make him love you."
Hawke's smile was so genuine and touching that Merrill's bad conscience was nagging at the back of her head again. For just a blink. Their eyes locked gazes, until Merrill looked away. Isabela broke the short, awkward moment with a loud yawn. "You two are making me so sleepy. Tell me more exciting things. Have you read the friend fiction Varric and I wrote?" She pushed a thin book towards Hawke and Merrill, and moments later they were reading the tales of Aveline and Donnic, in vivid detail. What a splendid imagination Isabela and Varric had.
On the one hand, Merrill had to get closer to Hawke. This seemed to work so far. Whereas she had gone weeks without being asked along for any of Hawke's errands, she was now asked along frequently, much to Fenris' displeasure. On the other, she had to start filling Fenris' head with doubts. She was looking forward to this, almost more than playing her part with Hawke.
One afternoon on the Wounded Coast, the wind carried some heated words to her, Fenris actually yelling at Hawke that he could not understand why she tolerated the filthy blood mage's presence. Hawke seemed to win the argument, and soon she and Aveline were far ahead of the two elves as they returned to Kirkwall. Fenris hadn't noticed that Merrill was walking right behind him. He was too busy brooding and mumbling to himself.
Merrill studied his form from behind. Lanky, sinewy, with the elegance of a dancer. Based on physical aspects, she couldn't blame Hawke for her infatuation. He was easy on the eyes, if you liked the kind of person who never smiles. The lyrium tattoos added a certain mystique. He probably was charming in his own way when you were not a mage. His personality disgusted Merrill.
She actually snuck up on him and then hissed "Boo!" in his pointed ears. Fenris nearly jumped, and turned, reaching out to Merrill with a hand. For a moment, for a frightening moment, she expected him to reach into her chest and rip her heart out as she had seen him do. She sensed the power flaring in his lyrium markings, she saw them glow faintly. He wanted to. The last moment, he regained control and merely grabbed her shoulder, shaking her painfully. "Stop talking to me, monster. Leave me alone. Being near you sickens me."
Merrill wriggled out of his grasp. "I heard you. I know you hate me. I know you don't want Hawke to have me around. Get used to it. She's never going to do just what you want her to do." She lowered her voice, with a smile. "You can't be her master. Everyone knows Hawke. No one knows Fenris. You will always be below her."
She skipped through the sand on the coast road, as if she was out for a merry day of picking flowers along the rocks of the coastline. "You don't really ever expect her to return your feelings, do you? They are so obvious on your face. She knows them. She'd never act on them, though. A slave would be so unsuitable for a Kirkwall noble like her. Have you heard of all the suitors lining up for her?"
Merrill turned her head to watch his face carefully. So many warring emotions. For all of his brooding, he was easy to read. He spit out, aiming at her feet. "I am not a slave," he spit out words now, full of anger. "Don't you ever call me slave again, witch. I have no master. I will find him and kill him, and I will have no qualms killing you as well, blood mage. I am not afraid of you and your demon-augmented powers.."
The Dalish was now walking just a little bit ahead of Fenris. "Oh, I know you are not afraid. And yet, you cannot do anything. If it weren't for Hawke, I'd be gone. We're friends, you know. She likes me quite a lot. She probably still feels bad that you destroyed my work when you made her deny me the arulin'holm. If you harmed me, she would never touch you." She looked over her shoulder again. "Poor, lonely Fenris. Ashamed of his status, pining away for a woman well above him. Keep waiting for her to come to you. It might be a long time."
The sand was quite hot under her bare feet. Merrill skipped through the sand some more, like a fanciful young elf frolicking through the woods. She picked up a flower that grew by a tree, and then hurried to catch up to Hawke and Aveline. "Look, isn't this flower quite lovely? I am sure if you put it in your hair, it would give you a softer look. Elvhen men like this." She spoke those words softly so that Aveline wouldn't hear. Hawke took them to heart and tucked the blue flower behind her ear. It matched her eyes startlingly. She looked over her shoulder towards Fenris, with flushed cheeks, then smiled gratefully at Merrill.
How would it look to Fenris, Merrill idly mused. Wouldn't it look like Merrill gave a flower to Hawke as token, and she gratefully put it in her hair? Wouldn't he be fuming that Hawke showed so much appreciation to a woman he despised so? The Dalish didn't need to look behind her, she almost physically felt the waves of his hatred for her.
And so the seeds of discord were sown.