You didn't want me

You never cried for me at all

You didn't love me

Were too far above me

Then you watched me take the fall

- Mesh, You didn't want me

This my first ever attempt at fanfiction. English is not my native language as well. I fell in love with Merrill at the point where the rivalry romance triggered for me, since then she has a special place in my heart, enough to make me write. I am looking to fill gaps in their story, and tweak a bit. Please be kind. All chapters will be loosely based on the Mesh album 'Fragmente'. I am strange like that.

Anger still had her stomach in knots. She couldn't recall ever having felt so much anger before. Anger was not something Merrill was used to. Maybe every drop of blood she used to fuel the restoration of the eluvian with, maybe every single drop took anger out of her. By all rights, she should be angry. About the Keeper's meddling, about her clan hating her for being what she was. Her companions belittling her, in the best case, or downright insulting her in the worst.

Worst of them was Hawke. Beautiful Lady Hawke, Champion of Kirkwall, mighty warrior and friend. Or so she had thought. Pretending to care about Merrill when all she really did was toy with her. Too far above her, all a pretense. "Liar!" she whispered. Merrill slid down to sit down in front of the mirror, weak at the thought of Hawke who she had just sent away, probably forever. It was so easy to have her anger change to anguish, for it felt she lost something that was so precious, something she felt was hers, hers alone. Anger was winning though, as it would return to drown out anguish time and again. Time passed, slow as molasses, as Merrill sat there stiffly, her hands with those long fingers balled into fists, her nails digging into the soft skin of her palms.

She turned her head at the sound of the door, and in one swift motion grabbed the staff that was resting against the wall by the mirror, rising, poised to attack. She was ready to send bolts of lightning towards the betrayer, who else would it be? Anger was now burning brightly in her, actually embracing the opportunity to consume Merrill completely. The air crackled with energy.

The person who entered Merrill's small house was not wearing plate armor, and her hair was not the color of the flames that were consuming the Dalish elf. Instead it was the lithe movement of a cat, the confident swagger of a pirate. Merrill sighed and then forcefully sat down, hitting the floor hard, her staff clattering to the floor. Anger dissipated, only an ember still alight within her, still burning.

"My my, kitten, you looked like you wanted to roast me for dinner. Have you not been eating again? Look at you, all slumped like that." The Rivaini pirate moved to stand behind Merrill, ruffling her hair affectionately. If she sensed the anger, Isabela didn't say.

Merrill shook her head, and finally spoke. "I am fine, Isabela. I…did I scare you? I hope not. I didn't mean…I thought you were…" She tried to smile, for Isabela was dear to her, but it was a wan effort, quickly fading. She swallowed hard, noticing how weak her voice was. The voice of someone who was not really doing fine.

"You thought it was going to be Hawke. Don't worry, she won't be coming here. The Champion of Kirkwall is in the Hanging Man, drowning her sorrows as I have never seen her do that before." Isabela crouched, to lift Merrill's chin with a finger and to look into her eyes. "I think Hawke is drinking more right now than after we found her mother. That's hard to believe, isn't it." Merrill flinched, and looked away, to see her own broken reflection in the eluvian.

Isabela rose again and started pacing behind Merrill. "Listen, kitten, I hate this. I make Thedas' worst go-between. Mind you, she didn't tell me to come here." She raised her hand, because Merrill had turned around to look up at her heatedly at the thought. "She wouldn't want me to come here. She's too hurt for that." Isabela kept turning around, pacing close by, her fingertips dancing over Merrill's shoulder or her scalp, as if to soothe her, to reassure her. "She didn't even say it was about you, but who else could it have been about. Maker knows she's quashed every attempt of the boys and me, hah, me! No kitten, you are the only one she cares about like that."

Isabela moved to sit on the edge of Merrill's bed, resting her palms on those dark thighs of hers. Cocking her head, she looked at stricken Merrill, who had turned around now to sit on her knees, her back towards the eluvian. "What could you possibly mean, Isabela? She does not care about me. She is thwarting me at every turn, telling me how everything I am doing is wrong. She is sabotaging my work! She wants to see me take the fall." Heat rose to Merrill's cheeks, as she continued kneeling before Isabela, with raised, clenched fists held before her. Anger flared in her expressive green eyes.

Isabela did not seem to fear the anger, for she raised a hand, to gently caress Merrill's cheek, in a gesture both intimate and caring. "Ah, kitten. Your work. I understand your loss and the need, the absolute need to keep going, until you have in your possession what you really crave. For you it is knowledge. For me it is a ship." There was yearning in her voice, a longing so deep that Merrill could relate to. The Rivaini's hand slid down to grab Merrill's shoulder, the calloused hand now almost rough. "She isn't sabotaging you, she's watching out for you. If you can't see this, then you are blind in your quest to achieve what you want." She looked into Merrill's eyes, as if trying to convey her message merely by looking at her. Merrill could not stand the look, and instead turned her head to look at the hand that was now painfully holding her.

The pirate smiled slyly now. "Kitten, you can have the Champion of Kirkwall eat from your hand." She laughed roughly. "Not only from your hand, but that is entirely up to you, sweet cheeks." Confusion crossed over Merrill's face and she looked back at Isabela, not understanding that last comment. Isabela let go of Merrill's shoulder, still grinning. "Go talk to her. You can still convince her to help you, whatever it is that you need. She would do it." Her smile turned wry now. "I thought you cared about her too, given the puppy eyes looks you give her when you think no one is watching. The only one who didn't see those is probably Hawke herself. Reconcile. Do it for me, kitten, if not for yourself or Hawke." She rose to her feet, giving Merrill one of her saucy winks. "The world is your oyster, Merrill. Make it so." She touched her taut stomach with one hand. "Sheesh, kitten, my tummy hurts now, from all that sweetness and emotional gunk. I don't do emotions. It just doesn't do. I hope that tells you how important you are to me." Now it was Isabela's turn to swallow, as if embarrassed by her admission, her face still a non-chalant expression however. Without further ado she turned to leave, and as soon as her back was turned towards the Dalish elf, her face turned solemn, her eyes full of concern. She stopped at the door, and then just called "Good night, kitten," before walking out into the alienage.

Merrill looked after her, unshed tears in her eyes now. Still on her knees, she crouched, her palms flat on the floor now. She felt defeated and lonely, but deep in the pit of her stomach, a burning ember was still gnawing at her, her anger not extinguished, just waiting for more fuel. It was the most uncomfortable feeling the elf had ever felt in her life.