Prompt: Merrill and Fenris, "You're not sorry!", kiss

Fenris grasped his bleeding leg with a scowl and a hiss of pain. He looked up to reluctantly call for the abomination to heal him, but the blonde mage was leaning over Hawke's body, looking frantic. Fenris bit back his call for aid; Hawke needed him more.

"Let me help, Fenris," Merrill said, coming up, wringing her hands. "I... I have to do something and Anders won't let me near her - Hawke I mean - but I can help!"

Fenris snarled. "I want none of your filthy magic, witch."

"It's not blood magic, I promise," Merrill sighed. "Anders has been teaching me a little of healing magic and it looks to me like you could use it, or do you intend on bleeding out into the dirt?"

"Fine," Fenris bit out. "One hint of you even thinking of using my blood or yours..."

"I won't," Merrill said cheerfully, and knelt beside him.

Fenris watched with narrowed eyes, but the magic she conjured to her palms looked just like what Anders usually did. And despite his misgivings, his leg was feeling better by the second.

"There!" Merrill said, pulling her hands back a moment later. "All better!" And then she did something that Fenris would never had seen coming in a million years: she leaned down, and kissed his leg.

Fenris jerked back. "WHAT are you doing?"

"Oh! I'm sorry!" Merrill blushed a violent shade of red.

"You're not sorry!" Fenris sputtered. "What was that for?"

"It's just..." Merrill fiddled with her braids, still blushing. "It's just something I remember my mother doing when I was a child, alright? Kiss the owwie to make it better. Haven't you ever heard of it?"

"If I had a mother, I don't remember it," Fenris growled, flexing his leg experimentally. It felt good; as if he'd never been wounded.

"Well, I am sorry," Merrill said, still flustered. "I won't do it again."

"No, you won't," Fenris agreed, and stood to his feet. As he was walking away, he paused and turned back to the elf girl still kneeling in the dirt. "By the way, thank you."