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Description
Main Pairing: Merrill / Solas
Additional Background Pairings: Varric / Cassandra, Dorian / The Iron Bull and others possibly in future.

Author's Note:
Please know that when this plot bunny showed up it had me groaning and shaking my head as I am already juggling about three other long fics. I know this isn't the only Merrill / Solas pairing out there. Yes, I did look but I’ve yet to read any of them beyond the summaries. If there are any similarities to anyone else’s please know this is just my take on this particular pairing and scenario of Merrill becoming the Inquisitor.

So far I've only finished one chapter and started another so fair warning updates will be slow as again I have about three other fics I'm currently dabbling with. I also wish to extend a thank you to two sweet ladies from an awesome Dragon Age facebook group we are all a part of who encouraged me to share this. ^_^ Enjoy!

~.~.~

Oh dear... something’s gone wrong-very-very wrong. What sort of mess have I gotten myself into now? But do a favor for Hawke, what else can I expect? Varric! Yes-yes he should still be about… I hope. If anyone can get this misunderstanding all sorted out it’s him. That is once-well let's be realistic here-if he ever finds out about it.

Merrill thoughts raced as she struggled to open her usually wide and nowadays not so innocent eyes. As she lifted up her pounding head, she vaguely wondered how she had managed to slip off to sleep again and yet remain upright. But that thought was cut short by another painfully bright green flash coming from her left hand. It set her wobbling forward. On her knees, the room spun and her wrists chaffed in the tight crude shackles. Yet with a wince, she managed to turn her palm up to inspect her throbbing left hand.

What the humans wanted or thought she did, she did not know. They refused to answer any of her questions when they yanked her from a nearby cell and forced her to her knees. Instead, they watched her and waited with swords drawn and pointed at her. As if she were some kind of abomination about to transform at any second.

With a tremble, she silently asked, Hello? Anyone else inside my head? No? Oh thank the Creators!

With no other signs occupancy, Merrill calmed a little and side-eyed the men around her. For how long they stood guard, again she did not know. Only long enough that cold radiated through the thick material of her baggy breeches. It made her knees ache. Despite the warmer gear Varric had given her and insisted she wear to blend in at the Conclave. But it was the sunburst symbol before her and the fear it inspired which made her shiver more.

Yes, the Conclave! I was in the Temple of Sacred Ashes. Or am I still? Come on think. I was following the Divine at a distance and…

When nothing else came to mind but running for her life from enormous spiders and towards a glowing outstretched hand, Merrill shook her head.

Silly nightmare! I must have gotten lost. Wandered myself into a place I shouldn't have been. Did I fall asleep? Or maybe I was struck? Bit of an overreaction if so, knocking me out and dragging me here.

Fonder memories of the Viscount's gardens back in Kirkwall and a ball of twine came to mind. But they quickly dissolved to spottier ones of the first time she woke up. She had been on her back upon a bedroll, in what she assumed was the same prison cell they pulled her out of later.

An ugly bald elven fellow had been at her side then. Holding her left hand and probing at what burned there with his magic. His focus held such an intense fury and annoyance it made her flinch and think of Fenris. Yet the cold looks Hawke's lover had given her through the years seem downright fuzzy and warm in comparison.

“Ah h-hello, who are you? And why are you scowling at my hand like that? It's not like I’ve made a rude gesture with it at you, have I?” She joked before thinking the better of it. In relief she watched his anger vanish to awe as a hopeful smile light up his whole face.

“You're awake!”

Merrill immediately took the ugly part back. His eyes were kind and clever. His voice a pleasant surprise to her ears too. A bit smitten already she blurted out, “Aye and you really ought to do that more.”

“Pardon?”

She gave a weak laugh and drawled, “Smile. You look so much better when your face isn't all scrunched up being all scary. You gave me a bit of a fright there at first. You seem angry about this, why? How did it get there and what is it?”

His brows lifted as he blinked at her a few times in owlish surprise. At least until she tried to sit up.

“I strongly suggest you do not move,” he urged with a nearly panicked look. His free hand rested upon her shoulder but he did not force her back down. His touch was light as a feather, a gentle suggestion before he nervously snatched his hand back.

Not that he needed to push her down. Not when her head spun and ached from only lifting it. As she eased it back onto the lumpy pillow she agreed, “Ugh! Good idea. Ah, look at you fussing. How sweet of you but do be a dear and tell me what happened?”

He didn't offer so much as an introduction. Instead, he somberly instructed, “You should rest while you can. When they come, I urge you to cooperate with them. They will have both questions and answers.” He then rose, walked away and to someone else instructed, “Please inform Seeker Pentaghast that the prisoner has awakened but is still weak. Under normal circumstances, I would advise she rest more but I’m afraid we cannot delay much longer. Not when what she holds is the key...”

Merrill did not catch the rest as sleep overtook her once more. Now as she knelt she fummed quietly.

Silly foolish flat ear! How can I not cooperate with at least four soldiers pointing swords at me, my hands bound and my head killing me?

Her palm stung as if cut but hummed with a magic that was not her own. Upon inspection, she could find no new visible wound. Only a few faint scars where she had drawn blood in the past to fuel a spell.

How long has it been?

She wondered to herself and counted the years. Hawke upon taking her into his merry band of misfits had asked of her to do just one thing. To refrain from practicing any more blood magic. She understood his concerns even if she did not agree with them. But then she had been so overconfident in her youth. It only took the death of Keeper Marethari and exile from her clan to grasp all of its dangers along with speaking to spirits and demons.

The fact she no longer cut herself did put everyone's mind at ease. Fenris even warmed up enough to be at least civil towards her, most of the time. But to this very day, Hawke’s lover and she were still not friends and she long ago put aside any illusions they ever would be.

A loud hissing snap and flash had her snapping out of her musings and yelping. The strange power flared up again as the door slammed open.

By the Dread Wolf, that hurt! She mentally whined and doubled over.

The swords pointed at her at least were now one by one being sheathed. But at the sound of footsteps approaching, Merrill looked up and blanched. The two hands of the Divine, Varric instructed her to avoid at all costs, entered the room.

The one he called the Seeker Cassandra Pentaghast circled her while Leliana the Nightingale watched on from a distance.

“Tell me why we shouldn't kill you?”

Merrill flinched but peevishly thew back, “I can think of at least five very good reasons, right hand. Shall I give you their names?”

It would piss off Isabela, Varric, Carver, and Aveline. But to both the women’s greatest concern, it would enrage Garrett Hawke the most. He may have not loved her in the way she had wanted him to. But Merrill knew he loved her at the very least like a little sister. She knew all about Bethany and had seen first hand how Hawke and Carver took their rage out upon every ogre that made the unfortunate mistake of crossing their path. Nor did she fail to notice how Garrett and Carver always put themselves between her and those vile creatures.

From what Varric had told her, the two women, as well as the Divine, were very keen on finding the Champion. Their hopes hinged upon his ability to lead the mages and the templars to a peaceful solution.

But given what all happened in Kirkwall, Hawke had his fill of trying to help. He admitted to her his doubts of being able to convince even his fellow mages to listen to reason. All he wanted now was to lay low, help his younger brother Carver resist the Calling and spend time with Fenris. The Chantry was lucky enough that Hawke was interested in at least monitoring the situation from afar. Hence why Varric allowed himself to be captured as she slipped into the Conclave to gather information.

“We're well aware of your friends and associates, Merrill is it not?” Sister Leliana the left hand of the divine spoke up.

“Yes though I can't say it's exactly been a pleasure meeting the two of you. Now tell me what in the Void has happened!"

A decade ago she might have asked politely. Even now in anger, her sweet voice still dulled the bite to her words. But between her friends’ antics, to more than a decade surviving the streets of Kirkwall, Merrill has become ever more a wolf in sheep's clothing.

“The Conclave is destroyed. Everyone who attended is dead. Except for you,” Cassandra accused as she stuck a finger in Merrill’s face.

“D-dead? Oh, Mythal have mercy! Was Varric-"

“Explain this,” Cassandra cut her off as she roughly yanked up Merrill’s shackled wrists. They stared at the glow surrounding her burning left hand until Cassandra threw it down.

“I-I can't. I don't have a clue how that got there or what it is. I was hoping you or-or perhaps that bald elf had answers."

“You’re lying!” Cassandra snarled and charged.

Merrill’s knees and boot tips scraped over the stone as Cassandra drove her body back with a hard shove. Before she could do anything more, Leliana pushed her off and got between them.

“We need her Cassandra.”

“All those people… oh poor-poor Varric,” Merrill cried. The idea of him gone along with hundreds if not thousands pushed all other concerns away.

“You can’t honestly still think the Champion is behind this do you?”

Before the Seeker could answer the Nightingale’s question Merrill through tears scolded, “What! How could you even consider Hawke would do something terrible-horrible like this? Hawke is a good man! He’s done everything he can to help those around him. You’re an even bigger bunch of idiots than I thought! There were hundreds of mages there-me included and-and Varric! You-you...” whatever further insults she had for them gave way to sobs.

“I would be a fool to not at least consider it,” the Seeker argued back. “Varric admitted Hawke and a few of you helped Anders gather the necessary materials for the explosive that destroyed the Chantry in Kirkwall after all.”

“Only because Anders lied! He told Hawke it was to help him separate from Justice.”

“So you all claim. But then Hawke helped that Abomination again. Creating a diversion and affording the means to plant whatever concoction Anders created into a building that housed many innocents who served the Maker and his bride. True, you all tell us he abused your trust. But then if so, why did Hawke let him go?”

“I don't know. Can you kill a friend you've known for years so easily, Seeker? Believe me, when I say, it’s not easy even if there is no other choice in the matter. All I do know is, Hawke has certainly never condoned what Anders did! We all witnessed the destruction first hand. It was horrible! After you-you took Varric, Hawke asked me to follow. To keep an eye on things. Let him know if they were about to get worse.”

“Ah, so you do know how to get ahold of him?” The triumph in Cassandra's voice made Merrill sober and think quick.

“No, well at least not exactly. The plan was to meet up with him. I mean have someone else meet him at a rendezvous point.”

“Who? Where?” Leliana prodded and Merrill swallowed hard.

“I-I can't say. Only he knew,” she partly lied as the genuine tears spilled down her cheeks again. “No matter now, he's dead. They're all dead! Oh Mythal, why? How could this happen? Why am I not dead with them?”

The truth was Varric was the contact but there was no rendezvous. Instead, he would send a phrase coded letter to his “cousin." Someone he made up years ago to head House Tethris. The person he hired to play his cousin would then send word to another who would bring it to wherever Hawke, Carver, and Fenris had chosen to lay low. But then the Hands of the Divine didn't need to know all of that.

“What do you remember? What happened?”

Merrill gave the Nightingale’s question some thought. Blanks and fragments of nonsense filled through her mind. With a shake of her head, she listed them out loud, “Running. These awful things, I think they were spiders, were chasing me. Then a woman.”

“A woman?” Leliana pressed on and stepped closer.

“Yes. Odd she was glowing and reached out to me. I think she was trying to help I suppose. What? What is it?” Merrill asked as the women shared a somber look.

“Go to the forward camp Leliana. I’ll take her to the rift.”

“Rift?”

“Come. It will be easier to show you,” she ordered as she removed the manacles and tied Merrill’s wrists together.

When Cassandra lead her out and her eyes adjusted to the sunlight, Merrill’s jaw dropped at what swirled in the sky. She barely heard Cassandra explain what it was and how it related to the mark upon her hand. Not until the Breech flared up along with her hand moments later in response.

“What do you mean it's killing me!” She gasped as the pain slowly started to fade.

“Like I said, Solas has an idea on how to stop this but we will need your help.”

“Then of course, whatever it takes.”

A fragile hope spread over Cassandra's features before with a grim nod she helped Merrill up. A scattered mob formed as they made their way through Haven. Both soldiers and villagers alike shouted and jeered insults but were kept at bay by the Seeker’s glare.

“They blame you,” Cassandra explained and quickened their pace. As they approached the gate she explained but Merrill was in too much shock pay her much mind.

In a daze, she blinked at her free hands when Cassandra cut the robes off.

“Where are you taking me again?”

“Your mark must be tested. There is a smaller rift on the way to the forward camp. If Solas is right you should be able to seal it and you will attempt to close the Breach next.”

Merrill had her doubts. The power required for such an enormous task she knew could cost her life yet she followed without protest. As they passed by a few panicked soldiers running back to Haven, she took a small comfort in that perhaps her death would at least buy everyone more time.

Hawke and the rest can fix this if I can't. Oh, let's hope he doesn't need to. He's got enough on his plate with Carver and the Wardens all hearing the Calling for some reason. I wonder if-

Another flare-up had her yelping and crashing to her knees. After Cassandra picked her up, Merrill thought to ask, “So how did I survive the blast?”

As they walked towards the bridge Cassandra explained how witnesses saw Merrill fall from a rift. How a glowing woman was behind her but nobody knew who she was. Despite a bridge collapse and a few other setbacks, Merrill pressed on without complaint. With Hawke, she had faced danger and demons before. She only faltered in absolute joy over finding Varric alive but busy wielding his trusty crossbow, Bianca. Shades had poured out from the small shimmering green tear behind him and several others. To help him she eagerly joined the fray. When the last shade dropped to a bolt from Bianca, she tried to run to him but the bald elf grabbed her left arm.

“Quickly! Before more come through!” He shouted and yanked her hand towards the rift.

“Wha-oh yes! I forgot! Ouch!” Merrill blushed and grimaced in pain. His grip was far too tight. Her palm also burned as a cord of pure energy shot from it and connected to the rift. Once it sealed she jerked free. With a glare at the bald elf, she cradled her now sore arm and grumbled, “There. Happy? And did you really need to be so rough?”

“My apologies.”

“Solas, I’m guessing.”

“Yes, and you are?”

“Merrill,” she gave with a polite little nod.

“Pleased to make your acquaintance and to see that you still live.”

His kind smile made her feel as if her head was suddenly stuffed with useless porridge. She tried to think of something to say but when words failed her, she decided to listen to him instead.

“Whatever magic opened the Breach in the sky also placed that mark upon your hand. I theorized the mark might be able to close the rifts that have opened in the Breach’s wake… and it seems I was correct.”

“Meaning it could close the Breach itself,” Cassandra chimed in with a hint of cautious hope.

“Possibly,” Solas agreed and turned back to Merrill and offered a sly smile. “It seems you hold the key to our salvation.”

“Good to know! Here I thought we’d be ass-deep in demons forever.”

“Varric!” She remembered with a happy start and spun around.

“Daisy? By Andraste's sweet dimpled butt cheeks! Is that really you?“

He barely had enough time to holster Bianca before Merrill pounced him at full speed with a happy cry.

“I’m sooo glad you’re alive Varric!”

In relief, she showered his face with small kisses while giggling. Varric blushed but indulged her with a laugh as he spun them around.

“Same goes for you. I’m really happy you somehow made it through all of that! The world would be poorer without you,” his voice wavered as he gave a wet sniff and cleared his throat.

He hugged her back just as tightly but upon spotting the curious looks they were getting from Solas and Cassandra he eased her off and wiggled free. With a glare at both of them, he scolded, “You didn't bother to tell her I was alive Seeker?”

As Cassandra floundered for words Merrill waved the question off while she wiped her cheeks dry. “Oh don't be too hard on her Varric. It must have slipped her mind and with good reason. I mean the big scary hole in the sky does take priority, doesn't it?”

“Ah-ha,” Varric grunted. Unconvinced but he let the matter go at least for now. “Shall we get moving?”

“Absolutely not. While your help is appreciated-"

“Save your breath Seeker. I’m coming with whether you like it or not. Where Daisy goes I go. And even if it wasn't her but instead some random nobody I never met before I’d still come because admit it… you need me.”

Cassandra stewed but Varric only grinned and threw her a playful wink. Merrill bit back a laugh as the woman started to blush before she turned away.

“Varric does have a good point there Cassandra. Is it alright if I call you that? Because if-”

The Seeker cut her off with a disgusted noise and threw up her hands.

“Is that a yes then?” Merrill teased with a smirk as Cassandra stomped off.

“As good as any,” Solas confirmed as Varric nodded in agreement.

“Come. We must get to the forward camp quickly,” Cassandra threw over her shoulder as she climbed over some fallen wood blocking the path.

Merrill ignored her at spotting a staff laying in the snow next to a dead mage. As she picked it up Varric found and pocketed a small purse.

“We might find some more things of use along the way. We could use all the help we can get,” Varric reasoned and rushed to catch up with Cassandra.

To Merrill surprise, Solas lingered and even helped her over the barrier. His hands were warm and slightly calloused yet like before his touch was fleeting. It left Merrill with the distinct impression he was not used to contact or, at the very least, he was rather reserved. She may have found him a little odd before but now in an endearing way. The fact he held himself more like a fellow Dalish than a city elf left her wondering if he had been cast out like she had been. The theory brought a wane smile to her lips and a fragile hope that, if they all lived long enough, in time she would dare to ask.

Description
Main Pairing: Merrill / Solas
Additional Background Pairings: Varric / Cassandra, Dorian / The Iron Bull and others possibly in future.

Author's Note:
Please know that when this plot bunny showed up it had me groaning and shaking my head as I am already juggling about three other long fics. I know this isn't the only Merrill / Solas pairing out there. Yes, I did look but I’ve yet to read any of them beyond the summaries. If there are any similarities to anyone else’s please know this is just my take on this particular pairing and scenario of Merrill becoming the Inquisitor.

So far I've only finished one chapter and started another so fair warning updates will be slow as again I have about three other fics I'm currently dabbling with. I also wish to extend a thank you to two sweet ladies from an awesome Dragon Age facebook group we are all a part of who encouraged me to share this. ^_^ Enjoy!

~.~.~

Oh dear... something’s gone wrong-very-very wrong. What sort of mess have I gotten myself into now? But do a favor for Hawke, what else can I expect? Varric! Yes-yes he should still be about… I hope. If anyone can get this misunderstanding all sorted out it’s him. That is once-well let's be realistic here-if he ever finds out about it.

Merrill thoughts raced as she struggled to open her usually wide and nowadays not so innocent eyes. As she lifted up her pounding head, she vaguely wondered how she had managed to slip off to sleep again and yet remain upright. But that thought was cut short by another painfully bright green flash coming from her left hand. It set her wobbling forward. On her knees, the room spun and her wrists chaffed in the tight crude shackles. Yet with a wince, she managed to turn her palm up to inspect her throbbing left hand.

What the humans wanted or thought she did, she did not know. They refused to answer any of her questions when they yanked her from a nearby cell and forced her to her knees. Instead, they watched her and waited with swords drawn and pointed at her. As if she were some kind of abomination about to transform at any second.

With a tremble, she silently asked, Hello? Anyone else inside my head? No? Oh thank the Creators!

With no other signs occupancy, Merrill calmed a little and side-eyed the men around her. For how long they stood guard, again she did not know. Only long enough that cold radiated through the thick material of her baggy breeches. It made her knees ache. Despite the warmer gear Varric had given her and insisted she wear to blend in at the Conclave. But it was the sunburst symbol before her and the fear it inspired which made her shiver more.

Yes, the Conclave! I was in the Temple of Sacred Ashes. Or am I still? Come on think. I was following the Divine at a distance and…

When nothing else came to mind but running for her life from enormous spiders and towards a glowing outstretched hand, Merrill shook her head.

Silly nightmare! I must have gotten lost. Wandered myself into a place I shouldn't have been. Did I fall asleep? Or maybe I was struck? Bit of an overreaction if so, knocking me out and dragging me here.

Fonder memories of the Viscount's gardens back in Kirkwall and a ball of twine came to mind. But they quickly dissolved to spottier ones of the first time she woke up. She had been on her back upon a bedroll, in what she assumed was the same prison cell they pulled her out of later.

An ugly bald elven fellow had been at her side then. Holding her left hand and probing at what burned there with his magic. His focus held such an intense fury and annoyance it made her flinch and think of Fenris. Yet the cold looks Hawke's lover had given her through the years seem downright fuzzy and warm in comparison.

“Ah h-hello, who are you? And why are you scowling at my hand like that? It's not like I’ve made a rude gesture with it at you, have I?” She joked before thinking the better of it. In relief she watched his anger vanish to awe as a hopeful smile light up his whole face.

“You're awake!”

Merrill immediately took the ugly part back. His eyes were kind and clever. His voice a pleasant surprise to her ears too. A bit smitten already she blurted out, “Aye and you really ought to do that more.”

“Pardon?”

She gave a weak laugh and drawled, “Smile. You look so much better when your face isn't all scrunched up being all scary. You gave me a bit of a fright there at first. You seem angry about this, why? How did it get there and what is it?”

His brows lifted as he blinked at her a few times in owlish surprise. At least until she tried to sit up.

“I strongly suggest you do not move,” he urged with a nearly panicked look. His free hand rested upon her shoulder but he did not force her back down. His touch was light as a feather, a gentle suggestion before he nervously snatched his hand back.

Not that he needed to push her down. Not when her head spun and ached from only lifting it. As she eased it back onto the lumpy pillow she agreed, “Ugh! Good idea. Ah, look at you fussing. How sweet of you but do be a dear and tell me what happened?”

He didn't offer so much as an introduction. Instead, he somberly instructed, “You should rest while you can. When they come, I urge you to cooperate with them. They will have both questions and answers.” He then rose, walked away and to someone else instructed, “Please inform Seeker Pentaghast that the prisoner has awakened but is still weak. Under normal circumstances, I would advise she rest more but I’m afraid we cannot delay much longer. Not when what she holds is the key...”

Merrill did not catch the rest as sleep overtook her once more. Now as she knelt she fummed quietly.

Silly foolish flat ear! How can I not cooperate with at least four soldiers pointing swords at me, my hands bound and my head killing me?

Her palm stung as if cut but hummed with a magic that was not her own. Upon inspection, she could find no new visible wound. Only a few faint scars where she had drawn blood in the past to fuel a spell.

How long has it been?

She wondered to herself and counted the years. Hawke upon taking her into his merry band of misfits had asked of her to do just one thing. To refrain from practicing any more blood magic. She understood his concerns even if she did not agree with them. But then she had been so overconfident in her youth. It only took the death of Keeper Marethari and exile from her clan to grasp all of its dangers along with speaking to spirits and demons.

The fact she no longer cut herself did put everyone's mind at ease. Fenris even warmed up enough to be at least civil towards her, most of the time. But to this very day, Hawke’s lover and she were still not friends and she long ago put aside any illusions they ever would be.

A loud hissing snap and flash had her snapping out of her musings and yelping. The strange power flared up again as the door slammed open.

By the Dread Wolf, that hurt! She mentally whined and doubled over.

The swords pointed at her at least were now one by one being sheathed. But at the sound of footsteps approaching, Merrill looked up and blanched. The two hands of the Divine, Varric instructed her to avoid at all costs, entered the room.

The one he called the Seeker Cassandra Pentaghast circled her while Leliana the Nightingale watched on from a distance.

“Tell me why we shouldn't kill you?”

Merrill flinched but peevishly thew back, “I can think of at least five very good reasons, right hand. Shall I give you their names?”

It would piss off Isabela, Varric, Carver, and Aveline. But to both the women’s greatest concern, it would enrage Garrett Hawke the most. He may have not loved her in the way she had wanted him to. But Merrill knew he loved her at the very least like a little sister. She knew all about Bethany and had seen first hand how Hawke and Carver took their rage out upon every ogre that made the unfortunate mistake of crossing their path. Nor did she fail to notice how Garrett and Carver always put themselves between her and those vile creatures.

From what Varric had told her, the two women, as well as the Divine, were very keen on finding the Champion. Their hopes hinged upon his ability to lead the mages and the templars to a peaceful solution.

But given what all happened in Kirkwall, Hawke had his fill of trying to help. He admitted to her his doubts of being able to convince even his fellow mages to listen to reason. All he wanted now was to lay low, help his younger brother Carver resist the Calling and spend time with Fenris. The Chantry was lucky enough that Hawke was interested in at least monitoring the situation from afar. Hence why Varric allowed himself to be captured as she slipped into the Conclave to gather information.

“We're well aware of your friends and associates, Merrill is it not?” Sister Leliana the left hand of the divine spoke up.

“Yes though I can't say it's exactly been a pleasure meeting the two of you. Now tell me what in the Void has happened!"

A decade ago she might have asked politely. Even now in anger, her sweet voice still dulled the bite to her words. But between her friends’ antics, to more than a decade surviving the streets of Kirkwall, Merrill has become ever more a wolf in sheep's clothing.

“The Conclave is destroyed. Everyone who attended is dead. Except for you,” Cassandra accused as she stuck a finger in Merrill’s face.

“D-dead? Oh, Mythal have mercy! Was Varric-"

“Explain this,” Cassandra cut her off as she roughly yanked up Merrill’s shackled wrists. They stared at the glow surrounding her burning left hand until Cassandra threw it down.

“I-I can't. I don't have a clue how that got there or what it is. I was hoping you or-or perhaps that bald elf had answers."

“You’re lying!” Cassandra snarled and charged.

Merrill’s knees and boot tips scraped over the stone as Cassandra drove her body back with a hard shove. Before she could do anything more, Leliana pushed her off and got between them.

“We need her Cassandra.”

“All those people… oh poor-poor Varric,” Merrill cried. The idea of him gone along with hundreds if not thousands pushed all other concerns away.

“You can’t honestly still think the Champion is behind this do you?”

Before the Seeker could answer the Nightingale’s question Merrill through tears scolded, “What! How could you even consider Hawke would do something terrible-horrible like this? Hawke is a good man! He’s done everything he can to help those around him. You’re an even bigger bunch of idiots than I thought! There were hundreds of mages there-me included and-and Varric! You-you...” whatever further insults she had for them gave way to sobs.

“I would be a fool to not at least consider it,” the Seeker argued back. “Varric admitted Hawke and a few of you helped Anders gather the necessary materials for the explosive that destroyed the Chantry in Kirkwall after all.”

“Only because Anders lied! He told Hawke it was to help him separate from Justice.”

“So you all claim. But then Hawke helped that Abomination again. Creating a diversion and affording the means to plant whatever concoction Anders created into a building that housed many innocents who served the Maker and his bride. True, you all tell us he abused your trust. But then if so, why did Hawke let him go?”

“I don't know. Can you kill a friend you've known for years so easily, Seeker? Believe me, when I say, it’s not easy even if there is no other choice in the matter. All I do know is, Hawke has certainly never condoned what Anders did! We all witnessed the destruction first hand. It was horrible! After you-you took Varric, Hawke asked me to follow. To keep an eye on things. Let him know if they were about to get worse.”

“Ah, so you do know how to get ahold of him?” The triumph in Cassandra's voice made Merrill sober and think quick.

“No, well at least not exactly. The plan was to meet up with him. I mean have someone else meet him at a rendezvous point.”

“Who? Where?” Leliana prodded and Merrill swallowed hard.

“I-I can't say. Only he knew,” she partly lied as the genuine tears spilled down her cheeks again. “No matter now, he's dead. They're all dead! Oh Mythal, why? How could this happen? Why am I not dead with them?”

The truth was Varric was the contact but there was no rendezvous. Instead, he would send a phrase coded letter to his “cousin." Someone he made up years ago to head House Tethris. The person he hired to play his cousin would then send word to another who would bring it to wherever Hawke, Carver, and Fenris had chosen to lay low. But then the Hands of the Divine didn't need to know all of that.

“What do you remember? What happened?”

Merrill gave the Nightingale’s question some thought. Blanks and fragments of nonsense filled through her mind. With a shake of her head, she listed them out loud, “Running. These awful things, I think they were spiders, were chasing me. Then a woman.”

“A woman?” Leliana pressed on and stepped closer.

“Yes. Odd she was glowing and reached out to me. I think she was trying to help I suppose. What? What is it?” Merrill asked as the women shared a somber look.

“Go to the forward camp Leliana. I’ll take her to the rift.”

“Rift?”

“Come. It will be easier to show you,” she ordered as she removed the manacles and tied Merrill’s wrists together.

When Cassandra lead her out and her eyes adjusted to the sunlight, Merrill’s jaw dropped at what swirled in the sky. She barely heard Cassandra explain what it was and how it related to the mark upon her hand. Not until the Breech flared up along with her hand moments later in response.

“What do you mean it's killing me!” She gasped as the pain slowly started to fade.

“Like I said, Solas has an idea on how to stop this but we will need your help.”

“Then of course, whatever it takes.”

A fragile hope spread over Cassandra's features before with a grim nod she helped Merrill up. A scattered mob formed as they made their way through Haven. Both soldiers and villagers alike shouted and jeered insults but were kept at bay by the Seeker’s glare.

“They blame you,” Cassandra explained and quickened their pace. As they approached the gate she explained but Merrill was in too much shock pay her much mind.

In a daze, she blinked at her free hands when Cassandra cut the robes off.

“Where are you taking me again?”

“Your mark must be tested. There is a smaller rift on the way to the forward camp. If Solas is right you should be able to seal it and you will attempt to close the Breach next.”

Merrill had her doubts. The power required for such an enormous task she knew could cost her life yet she followed without protest. As they passed by a few panicked soldiers running back to Haven, she took a small comfort in that perhaps her death would at least buy everyone more time.

Hawke and the rest can fix this if I can't. Oh, let's hope he doesn't need to. He's got enough on his plate with Carver and the Wardens all hearing the Calling for some reason. I wonder if-

Another flare-up had her yelping and crashing to her knees. After Cassandra picked her up, Merrill thought to ask, “So how did I survive the blast?”

As they walked towards the bridge Cassandra explained how witnesses saw Merrill fall from a rift. How a glowing woman was behind her but nobody knew who she was. Despite a bridge collapse and a few other setbacks, Merrill pressed on without complaint. With Hawke, she had faced danger and demons before. She only faltered in absolute joy over finding Varric alive but busy wielding his trusty crossbow, Bianca. Shades had poured out from the small shimmering green tear behind him and several others. To help him she eagerly joined the fray. When the last shade dropped to a bolt from Bianca, she tried to run to him but the bald elf grabbed her left arm.

“Quickly! Before more come through!” He shouted and yanked her hand towards the rift.

“Wha-oh yes! I forgot! Ouch!” Merrill blushed and grimaced in pain. His grip was far too tight. Her palm also burned as a cord of pure energy shot from it and connected to the rift. Once it sealed she jerked free. With a glare at the bald elf, she cradled her now sore arm and grumbled, “There. Happy? And did you really need to be so rough?”

“My apologies.”

“Solas, I’m guessing.”

“Yes, and you are?”

“Merrill,” she gave with a polite little nod.

“Pleased to make your acquaintance and to see that you still live.”

His kind smile made her feel as if her head was suddenly stuffed with useless porridge. She tried to think of something to say but when words failed her, she decided to listen to him instead.

“Whatever magic opened the Breach in the sky also placed that mark upon your hand. I theorized the mark might be able to close the rifts that have opened in the Breach’s wake… and it seems I was correct.”

“Meaning it could close the Breach itself,” Cassandra chimed in with a hint of cautious hope.

“Possibly,” Solas agreed and turned back to Merrill and offered a sly smile. “It seems you hold the key to our salvation.”

“Good to know! Here I thought we’d be ass-deep in demons forever.”

“Varric!” She remembered with a happy start and spun around.

“Daisy? By Andraste's sweet dimpled butt cheeks! Is that really you?“

He barely had enough time to holster Bianca before Merrill pounced him at full speed with a happy cry.

“I’m sooo glad you’re alive Varric!”

In relief, she showered his face with small kisses while giggling. Varric blushed but indulged her with a laugh as he spun them around.

“Same goes for you. I’m really happy you somehow made it through all of that! The world would be poorer without you,” his voice wavered as he gave a wet sniff and cleared his throat.

He hugged her back just as tightly but upon spotting the curious looks they were getting from Solas and Cassandra he eased her off and wiggled free. With a glare at both of them, he scolded, “You didn't bother to tell her I was alive Seeker?”

As Cassandra floundered for words Merrill waved the question off while she wiped her cheeks dry. “Oh don't be too hard on her Varric. It must have slipped her mind and with good reason. I mean the big scary hole in the sky does take priority, doesn't it?”

“Ah-ha,” Varric grunted. Unconvinced but he let the matter go at least for now. “Shall we get moving?”

“Absolutely not. While your help is appreciated-"

“Save your breath Seeker. I’m coming with whether you like it or not. Where Daisy goes I go. And even if it wasn't her but instead some random nobody I never met before I’d still come because admit it… you need me.”

Cassandra stewed but Varric only grinned and threw her a playful wink. Merrill bit back a laugh as the woman started to blush before she turned away.

“Varric does have a good point there Cassandra. Is it alright if I call you that? Because if-”

The Seeker cut her off with a disgusted noise and threw up her hands.

“Is that a yes then?” Merrill teased with a smirk as Cassandra stomped off.

“As good as any,” Solas confirmed as Varric nodded in agreement.

“Come. We must get to the forward camp quickly,” Cassandra threw over her shoulder as she climbed over some fallen wood blocking the path.

Merrill ignored her at spotting a staff laying in the snow next to a dead mage. As she picked it up Varric found and pocketed a small purse.

“We might find some more things of use along the way. We could use all the help we can get,” Varric reasoned and rushed to catch up with Cassandra.

To Merrill surprise, Solas lingered and even helped her over the barrier. His hands were warm and slightly calloused yet like before his touch was fleeting. It left Merrill with the distinct impression he was not used to contact or, at the very least, he was rather reserved. She may have found him a little odd before but now in an endearing way. The fact he held himself more like a fellow Dalish than a city elf left her wondering if he had been cast out like she had been. The theory brought a wane smile to her lips and a fragile hope that, if they all lived long enough, in time she would dare to ask.