#carrill

Sometimes Carver thought that his life couldn‘t get any better. Like just now, when he was sitting on the Wounded Coast, away from his brother and his ragtag band for a day, with the most lovely person he knew right beside him. He threw a shy glance at her, and Merrill looked right back at him and gave him one of her lovely smiles that always made his insides turn to goo.

If Anders knew about that he‘d probably blame it on blood magic, but Carver knew that it was something else. He was hopelessly in love with the Dalish elf, that was what it was. He had been trying to court Merrill for a while now, and she seemed open enough to it, even though he wasn‘t sure that she really got his intentions already. But he also didn‘t want to be too pushy…

At least he had managed to take her on a date now. Nothing fancy, but they were sitting on the beach on a blanket and were enjoying a peaceful afternoon (after much grumbling about how he should be careful around her, Fenris had agreed to make sure that no group of bandits, Vashoths, wolves, spiders or other vermin made it to their little bay, and Carver knew he owed him a few bottles of that fancy wine he liked now. It was worth it though.

Merrill seemed very busy, intensely focused on her lap where she had a bunch of flowers that she was slowly weaving into a wreath with her clever, nimble fingers.

„It is a beautiful day, is it not?“

„It is“ Carver agreed, even though there were heavy rainclouds hanging at the horizon. Maybe they wouldn‘t drift into their direction. And even if they did, it wouldn‘t matter much. As long as Merrill wouldn‘t mind, and he knew that she wouldn‘t.“

„You know… I don‘t think I‘ve ever met anyone as lovely as you“, he murmured, then blushed bright red and turned away to rub at the back of his neck. Why was he always so clumsy around her, damn?

He heard a little giggle next to her, and then something touched his head. He felt around with his hand and realised that it was the wreath – the flower crown – that Merrill had made earlier.

„I think you‘re wrong“ she stated and took his face in her tiny hands, making him look at her.

„You‘ve met yourself, and you‘re clearly the most lovely person“ she stated, and Carver momentarily worried about whether it was possible to pass out from blushing too much.

„You… think so?“ he asked, his heart beating frantically. She liked him? She thought he was lovely? She would even give him a flowercrown?

„Of course I do“ she replied and then leaned in to press her lips against Carver‘s in a short, clumsy kiss.

„This is how you show it, right? That you like someone?“

Now she seemed to be at odds, and Carver quickly pulled her back in to return her kiss, albeit with maybe a little more force.

„Maker, never change“ he murmured as he pulled her close against him, and she got comfortable in his lap with a shy little giggle.

„I wasn‘t planning on it, you know. I think I like myself the way I am. Even if not everyone sees it like that...“

She sounded sad then, and he knew that she was thinking about some of the others of their companions that only saw her as a silly foolish girl with no idea of how life worked. But he knew better, and he leaned forward to give her kiss a cheek.