Disclaimer: Dragon Age is owned by BioWare, I'm not profiting from this in any way.

Isabela/Merrill. 300 words with title.

The Small Things

Isabela knew the power of fashion just as well as anyone. There was a reason why she had spent three winters in Kirkwall freezing her tits off in a tiny blouse, and it had nothing to do with providing the drunkards at the Hanged Man a place to rest their drinks.

Still, staring at the lacy confection of ruffles and embroidered sparrows, she found herself at a complete loss for words.

"Is it... all right?" Merrill squeaked. "Did I do something wrong? I did, didn't I? Creators, I'll never get better at this-"

"I-" Isabela swallowed. "It's very pretty, Kitten. You look good enough to eat," she purred, without a hint of insincerity. There were even little blue ribbons. Tipped with pearls and tied up in bows.

"Hawke bought it for me." Merrill blushed, scooting up the length of the bed to allow Isabela room. "For something so little, it cost more than anything I've ever owned, I think. You do like it, don't you? Hawke said you'd like it."

"Hawke said-" Isabela spluttered, her words lost in a laugh. "I do like it, Kitten. Very much so. But you know what would be even better?" She leant in, close enough to see the gradation of colour in Merrill's eyes as they widened, the elf flushing an adorable shade of pink.


Her fingers found one of the ribbons and tugged, the silk sliding free with a whisper. Not quite as satisfying as slicing through it with her blade, but it seemed a waste to destroy something so pretty, and Isabela always did like pretty things.

"Finding out what lies beneath," she murmured, her fingers tracing across bare skin. Merrill shivered, leaning her head back; the scrap of ruffles and lace slipped to the floor, completely forgotten.