"You lied to me!" Merrill gasped, horrified by the treachery. I thought we were friends...

Bethany, currently off getting them something the humans called 'ale' from the tavern keeper, had introduced Merrill to the other human woman a few days ago, and Merrill had to admit she'd found herself quite taken with the other woman.

Despite what Garrett might have insinuated, Merrill was not an elf who had judged humans differently from elves. Sure, she'd not seen too many of them during her travels, and their size was somewhat intimidating, especially with all those stories of their murdering of elves with the loss of the Dales. But Merrill liked to see the good in everyone, no matter who they were... and surely if a person was good, that was all that mattered?

Not that there weren't bad people, or at least those sick in some way. That man Garrett had taken from the cave had been one such person. Like a rabid animal, the only merciful thing for him, and to those around him, would have been to put him down. I know he meant well, well... sort of... but not caring about others like that is not very nice.

Though while her... Keeper, she guessed he was, he was in charge, anyway... didn't seem all that pleasant, his friends had been very nice.

Well... most of them... sort of.

Anders was scary, and always so serious... and while Merrill did like the idea of befriending a fellow elf in their 'group', Fenris seemed angry with her for some reason. Carver was a bit... odd. She wasn't really sure what to make of him, though he seemed to have been a cruel child, which was a bit worrying. He wouldn't nail me like he did Bethany, would he?

Aveline seemed nice though, very busy and very... to the point... but at least she seemed like the helpful sort, and she was a Guard, they protected people, right? Varric had gotten her a house, a house filled with rats and smelling of dank cheese, but a house none the less... and he was very kind and generous. Merrill honestly didn't understand why the man seemed to enjoy Garrett's company. Bethany was also very kind and generous with what she had... though perhaps a bit sad, as if she was constantly troubled by something.

As for Isabela...

The curvy Rivaini had instantly made Merrill smile when Bethany introduced them. There was something disarming with the dark-skinned woman's white smile, and the way she handled over a dozen admirers at the Hanged Man was to Merrill – who still blushed furiously when she thought of the one elf back in her clan who'd tried to court her until her stumbling words had turned him off – an inspiration of how anyone would want to be. Confident, beautiful, friendly, adventurous...s he was the woman Merrill could only dream of being... minus the human part, Merrill was Dalish to the bones, that she wouldn't change.

And Isabela seemed to like her! Merrill, the little soft-spoken mage who didn't know how to make friends or to do anything people in the cities seemed to take for granted! Merrill had been very glad for that.

Except now Isabela had lied to her... and Merrill felt lost as she sat by their crudely made table.

Cocking her head to the side, the pirate-queen smiled at her, a smile cracking into a grin as Merrill stared back in confusion. "It's called bluffing, kitten. Surely you've played games where you tricked one another back in your clan?" She gestured at her cards at the table, three knights and a tower, far stronger than Merrill's own collection of merchants.

Merrill blinked. "Well...t here was 'find the clam'...if you lied about having it, you could still win..." Merrill didn't knew the specifics though. Stuck studying for and assisting Marethari, there had been little time for games with the other children... not that many would have wanted to play with her anyway. "So this was... bluffing then?"

"Yes, a fancy way of saying lying, I guess, but not meant to hurt." Isabela patted Merrill's hand, and as she withdrew her own, she swept Merrill's cards along, mixing them with her own and putting them back into the deck in one fluid movement. How does she even do that? Isabela seemed oblivious to Merrill staring in amazement at her deft shuffling though, her smile never fading as she spoke. "Now, another game?" She glanced down, noticing the pile of pebbles they had used were all on her side... again. "Oh right, better divide these, Merrill, would you?"

"Sure!" Merrill was eager to learn the game after all, though wondered if she would ever get any good at it... Isabela trounced her every time. "So this is how you earn money?" She'd seen Isabela beat various sailors at card before, and those times, she hadn't gotten a pile of pebbles for it.

The pile Merrill had pulled to herself was accidentally larger than the one she left with Isabela, but the pirate didn't seem to mind as she continued shuffling – she could probably beat me with only one pebble anyway – while glancing left and right at their surroundings. "Cards, dice, the odd job with our friend Garrett. Enough to have a bed and drinks, yes... Maker knows how I'll afford a ship though, I spend the coin as quickly as I earn it."

Following Isabela's gaze, Merrill smiled at their surroundings. Sure, it was a bit scary with all the loud and drunk humans around her... but they all seemed very happy, and she had Isabela and Bethany with her, who were more apt at handling the odd drunkard trying to join them. Over by the counter, she saw Bethany trying to press herself past a pair of men at their drinks and speak to the bartender... and then move further away with an annoyed frown when one of them gave her a toothy grin. Why wouldn't she like someone smiling at her? Humans have odd customs... "Oh I'm sure you'll get your ship. Maybe you can spend less money on ale so you can afford it?"

"Awww, that's an adorable sentiment." Isabela ceased her shuffling to reach out and ruffle Merrill's hair, smile wide. "A ship is a bit expensive, Kitten. I'm sure saving the coin from ale would help, but not much." A roll of her eyes. "Besides, if I have to stay in this city instead of on a ship and without a drink now and then... well I'd probably kill myself." Merrill gasped, hands coming up to cover her mouth, drawing a chuckle out of the curvier woman. "That was a joke, Merrill." Oh. Merrill grimaced, feeling foolish. I need to start learning human humour... what I wouldn't give for a good book on the subject...

"Okay, but can you still afford bread with all of this 'ale' you like?" Merrill watched Isabela effortlessly divide the cards between them, the little pieces of paper seemingly flying between the two of them... it was a wonder they never fluttered away or landed with the wrong side up... or so it seemed to Merrill.

"Of course, it's not expensive, you've seen my winnings at dice, haven't you?"

"Well...yes..." Merrill replied, frowning as she shifted in her seat. "But I saw you spend most of that in the bar... I mean I bought a loaf of bread for a silver and-"

"A silver!?" Isabela exploded, stopping her dealing of cards to stare at Merrill in wonder. "You spent a... do you know you're supposed to barter, kitten!?"

Merrill turned crimson, shuffling even more in her seat. "Well yes, Garrett told me about it, and I did... sort of... but he raised his voice, so I figured I'd bartered too much and... well..."

"Well, that's a lesson learnt, there's never too much bartering involved with those snakes at the market." Isabela offered a reassuring smile and finished dealing their cards. "I'll go with you next time, show you how it's done, how about that?"

"Oh I'd love that!" Merrill cried, grinning back. Ancestors, she's so nice, I don't know why Garrett doesn't like her, though I suppose he's a bit of a grump... She pulled her cards up, eyeing them and trying to recollect the combinations Isabela had told her about. "You're so nice." Two peasants, a wall and a joker... could I switch the joker and hope for a peasant? That would make a village, I think...

"It's nothing, girl." Isabela chuckled, eyes twinkling with amusement as she eyed Merrill, seemingly not even glancing at the cards in her hands. Why is she staring? Do I have something on my nose? Can she see what cards I have? Is she looking for my... what did she call it... my 'tell'? I don't understand, I haven't told her anything...

Before Merrill could put down her card though – oh right, I'm supposed to bet a pebble first – there was a creak as the door to the Hanged Man opened, making both players look over in time to see Garrett and Varric enter.

They couldn't be more diametric.

Varric was naturally short, and though broad, it wasn't enough to make him seem anything but small. He walked like a giant though, all confidence, a smile on his lips and hands casually in the pockets of his beautiful leather coat. As he moved towards the back of the tavern, people called out to him, and he called back, grinning at people, greeting them... his smile wide, welcoming all, Merrill and Isabela in their corner receiving a warm one.

Garrett, on the other hand, was tall, only shorter than perhaps Carver, and since he was broader than Varric, he looked huge to the reed-thin Merrill's eyes. Yet his walk was a wary one, his clothes a ragged tunic and trousers that once might have been yellow, his hand never straying far from his sword. None called out a greeting to him, and with the grim look on his face, who could blame them? He noticed Merrill and Isabela in their corner though, and offered a curt nod, polite, but cold.

As the two disappeared into the back of the tavern, Isabela snorted, looking back to her cards. "If I didn't know better I'd say that Garrett needed to get laid, but what woman would want to touch something so cold?"

Blushing – she still couldn't handle Isabela's speech, so full of sexual references, all that well - Merrill tried a pale smile. "Oh I'm sure he has a reason for looking so grim all the time..."

"Yeah, you get like that with a stick shoved up your arse." Isabela snorted, pushing two pebbles into the space between them, eyes now on her cards and her smile replaced by a frown. "All about family, duty, family, work, family, money... oh, and family. Hell, didn't he let that psychopathic elf-murderer go? I mean, who does that after you've seen what you described?"

Merrill shuddered, she'd lost several nights of sleep reliving the memory of the sight of the dead little girl. "Well he did have reasons... I... well... and the killer's in prison now, right?" Merrill grimaced, she wasn't sure why she was defending the man, but as usual, she was trying to see the positives in people. "I don't liiike it... but I don't know how Kirkwall is... so..." She shrugged, uncomfortable with the subject. She bit her lower lip, then let the words come. "Though back in my clan, we would never have let him go like that..."

"Exactly, but our grim little Hawke doesn't think like that." Erm... he's anything but little... Isabela nodded at Merrill pushing forth two pebbles to match her wager, then put down two cards on the table and drew two new from the stack. "If it doesn't concern his family, it doesn't matter."

"Well...yes..." Merrill admitted. She couldn't claim to know the man, but it sure seemed like Isabela had a point. "...it's a bit...selfish?" She put down her joker and drew a new card, frowning at the tree she got.

A snort. "That's one way to put it, I'd call it immoral... and that's coming from me." A chuckle escaped Isabela as she pushed another three pebbles into the pot, only for her to chuckle again as Merrill put her cards down on the table, her hands quickly scooping up her winnings. "You're still telling me what you have, kitten." Merrill frowned, confused. I'll never get this... "Anyway, he's a dick, doesn't know how to live, and all that, you'd have to go to the Chantry to find someone more-"

"You're being unfair." Merrill blushed furiously as she jumped in her seat, finding Bethany having snuck up on them with three glasses of yellow liquid in her hands. Putting the glasses down, the mage pulled out her chair and sat down before distributing the ale between the three of them, frowning at the table and seemingly oblivious to Merrill's shame. "My brother might make... questionable decisions, but he's not a bad man, nor a... dick." Like Merrill, Bethany grimaced at the word.

"Am I?" In contrast to Merrill, Isabela seemed not the least bit ashamed of being caught badmouthing Bethany's brother. By the gods, if I could be as confident and calm as you. The Rivaini was looking at Bethany, apparently ready to hear the mage's argument... or maybe she was just being polite since the other woman had bought the ale? Either way, the Rivaini drained half her glass with one mighty swig. "Hit me." She glanced at Merrill. "I mean... tell me what you mean."

Okay, so this is ale... Merrill hadn't dared try it so far, despite Isabela's urgings. It kind of looks like pee... Merrill's gut tightened at the thought as the stared at the glass in front of her.

"My brother was seventeen when our father died." Bethany began, still looking down at the table, her slender fingers tracing the marks in the table left by previous users. "The hour after that, he was in charge of the family... he... he barely allowed himself to grieve, though I heard him cry in bed at nights." She looked up at that, looking a little ashamed of telling them, making Merrill give a trembling smile as Isabela cocked a doubtful eyebrow. "Sorry, I... shouldn't have said that."

At seventeen...? Merrill tried to imagine being in charge of the clan at that age... at doing that now... and felt terror squeeze her chest. Isabela shrugged. "Don't worry, that's nothing to tease the guy about, go ahead, I'm all ears until my glass is empty." Judging by what remained, that wasn't long.

Sighing, Bethany shrugged, gaze moving up to the ceiling, as if unwilling to look at the women she was speaking to. "Even before that, he was so serious... you must understand, he and father... they were our protectors when we were out on the road, keeping us... me... safe from Templars..." A grimace. "Father was so afraid of them finding me, of losing the family he'd made... and I think my brother picked up on that, he made it his own job to keep us safe, because he was the eldest, because he loves us." A soft shake of her head, a look on guilt on her face. "While other boys began to take interests in girls, my brother was chasing off wolves with a torch and fighting bandits in the forest to keep us safe." A deep breath. "While others had fun together in Lothering, he was coming home to watch over me and mother, carving things to sell at the market so we could make a little more money."

Oh... Merrill looked down at her hands, feeling ashamed for having judged him so harshly. That sounds like a heavy burden. Isabela yawned though. "So he's a good brother and has a reason for being like he is, that doesn't change that he's got a stick up his bum." Looking up, Merrill found Bethany glaring at an amused-looking Isabela. "Does he even know how to smile? Or does his face crack if he tries?"

Though she looked annoyed, a small giggle escaped Bethany at the question. "Yes, yes he does, it's just... rare."

"Oh, like if you..." Merrill started, then blinked. "...actually I have no idea what would make him smile."

"You and me both!" Isabela agreed with a laugh , then smirked as she leant over the table, nearly making her breasts fall out of her tunic. "Now, why aren't you having any of your-"

"E-excuse me..." The three women looked up at the new voice, Merrill's eyes widening at the sight of a worn-looking elf standing before them. Her ragged clothes suggested she was an Alienage elf, yet the tattoo on her face... it was the tattoo of Ghilan'nain, the Mother of the Halla, marking her as one of the people. The elf was staring back at her too...a nd a look of shame crossed her face as she put a hand over her forehead. "...I... are you friends of... H-Hawke?"

Merrill could only stare at the other elf. What are you doing here...? The style of the Tattoo... it reminded Merrill of her own clan's, though judging by the age of the elf, maybe her leaving had been before Merrill's time, she hadn't always been with her current clan, after all.

"That's one word for it." Isabela snorted.

Bethany was quick to speak up though, smiling gently. "I'm his sister, what can I do for you?"

"I... I'd like his help..." The woman swallowed, shooting Merrill a nervous glance before looking back to Bethany. "W-with my s-son..." Again, she shot Merrill a glance.

Merrill paled. White skin, torn open, neck in ruins... "I'm... not sure if he'd help you...he's not a helper of elves, I think..."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Bethany glowered at Merrill, making her shirk back in worry...t hough she wasn't about to apologise, she still found Garrett brushing aside the threat Kelder posed to elves as... distasteful. "He's not..." A deep breath, Bethany averting her gaze, making Isabela cock an eyebrow. "...he's not like that."

"E-either way doesn't matter..." The elf standing next to them replied, glancing at Merrill once more before continuing. "...he's human..."

Oh. Merrill grimaced. Meaning she mated with a human, meaning she forgot the way of the Dalish, meaning we cast her and her child out... Her grimace turned into a crimson blush. And I accused Garrett of racism... no, a poor custom of my people doesn't make them or me racist, we must do what we can to keep our numbers up. "I... see."

As if struck, the elf shirked away from Merrill, head now downcast, looking ashamed. I'm not angry with you for fathering a child... Merrill didn't dare say it though, nor offer any sort of comfort, too uncomfortable and embarrassed by the situation. Isabela though, shrugging aside the tension with nary a grimace, spoke swiftly. "Well, either way it still depends on if he's paid, I do believe he claims not to be a charity."

Merrill grimaced at that. If his reality is not to help people if they can't pay you... I don't' want to be part of it. In answer, her stomach growled. Yet I need to eat...

The woman nodded though, eagerly so. "I have money, a little at least, probably enough to make him look... it's all I ask..." Her tone was pleading, desperate... and Merrill's heart ached for her.

"Of course, I understand." Bethany did what Merrill could not, reaching out to brush the woman's shoulder with a kind look on her face. "Go to the back he's there with a dwarf, they'll help you out, I'm sure."

"Thank you... so much..." The mother said, backing away and bowing as if the three women at the table were Keepers... and then she eagerly turned and marched for the back of the tavern, steps swift and hurried.

"Huh, wonder if the man will deem the payment worth it. Alienage elves usually don't have much." Isabela mused, making Merrill and Bethany both grimace, neither particularly liking the idea of the desperate woman not getting any help. "What was with those tattoos though? Weren't they Dalish? You know her, Merrill?"

They mean she was in the clan, then no longer, because she lay with a human, because she made our people weaker by birthing a human instead of a Dalish, and will never be accepted back until she leaves the child behind. Merrill stared at the table. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Well... okay then."

The silences stretched between them.

Then Isabela spoke up again, a grin in her voice. "Anyway... let's make a woman out of you, Merrill." Wh-what!? Merrill went crimson. "Time for you to have your first ale." Oh, whew... wait, that stuff? Merrill looked up at the glass before her, one eye narrowed, suspicious of the amber liquid held in what seemed to be a badly cleaned glass. "Oh don't give it that look, that's rude, drink it instead!"

Merrill looked to Bethany for help, but the other mage simply grinned at her. "Go ahead, Isabela's right, it's time." A little smirk. "Plus, I want to see what you think..."

"O-okay..." Merrill gripped the glass hesitantly, lifting the somewhat heavy glass and eyeing the drink with a hint of curiosity.

"Take a big gulp, like a big girl." Isabela advised, the pirate all smiles.

A deep breath...and Merrill nodded before bringing the glass up to her lips. Following Isabela's advice, she took a deep gulp, letting the liquid pour down her throat before filling her mouth when her throat sealedshut as the taste finally reached her. Ewwwww!

Slamming the glass back down, Merrill's body spasmed on instinct, spitting out the large mouthful of ale in her mouth.

All over Isabela.

The tavern went silent.

Merrill, eyes wide, felt a flush creep down from her ears and up her neck, slowly engulfing her face.

Before her, Isabela was staring back with equally large eyes, ale dripping from her hair and sliding down her face, staining her tunic as it soaked into the white cloth.

Then, the pirate leant back in her chair, reared her head back, and laughed.

Loudly.

A moment later Bethany followed.

Then the rest of the tavern.

Merrill, still red like a strawberry, pulled her shoulders up to hide her face as best she could while hiding her fiddling hands in her lap, shyly smiling as she struggled to contain her embarrassment. Her voice, a shy whisper, was lost in the roars of laughter. "Sorry..."

8

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Thanks to Abydos Jackson for being such an immense help.