#vaderslegacy

Varric grinned over his cards at Hawke, who was smiling in bemusement at the two elves across from her. "No? Expecting a lot more gore? Kirkwall is finally getting to you."

Merrill giggled. Isabela, trying to peek at Anders' cards, straightened up to raise her brows at the handsome blond assassin, who was murmuring quietly about something apparently very amusing. Zevran was clearly enjoying himself.

Merrill, they realized, was too.

Zevran leaned his head on a hand. This had an added benefit of forcing his eyes to look upon the recipient from under his lashes; Merrill beamed sunnily. "Ah, keria, please. Tell me of your favorite."

"Oh!" She clapped her hands. "Well, everybody loves Mythal. She was like--like a mix of Hawke and Isabela, all confidence and love. She was responsible, too..."

Hawke and Isabela exchanged looks, full of confidence and love. Nobody questioned Merrill's tastes in men: she could take care of herself, and if she wanted help she knew she could count on her friends.

She continued talking about Dalish culture throughout the evening. Absolutely no one was surprised when Zevran showed up the day after, or the day after that. 

Eventually, talk shifted from Dalish culture to Kirkwall politics to the elves at the Alienage to places they had or wanted to visit. Eventually, Merrill’s slim fingers found their way into Zevran's hair and formed little braids he never took out. Eventually, he began tracing her tattoos with a gentle finger. She always let him.

"Are you planning on going home?" Ferris asked three weeks later, voice drier than his drink. "At all?"

Zevran grinned, unoffended. "My home, I am finding, is another person."

Merrill smiles, and laughs, and absolutely no one is surprised when the rest of their lunch is eaten one handed.

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AN: So @vaderslegacy I can’t tag you but I hope I fulfilled your request!! This was supposed to be posted yesterday but then I was like, “Banner. It needs a banner.”