#F!hawke/merrill

[gardensystemtv]

I feel like my Half-elf rogue Hawke would REALLY get along with Sera when she goes to Skyhold. Sera would quite quickly pick up on the fact that Hawke received a similar treatment as she did due to her square ears (not as pointy as an elf’s, not as round as a human’s) and not quite fitting in anywhere. So Sera talks to her a bunch, try to keep her happy because Hawke keeps having this homesick look in her eyes as she misses Merrill. So Sera starts asking about what it’s like for Hawke to be married to a Dalish elf, and Hawke IMMEDIATELY figures out that Sera has a crush on the Inquisitor (Almithara Lavellan). So she tries to give some earnest advice, be kind to her. And eventually tries to give her some courage by telling her. “I have seen you with a bow. Sometimes in life you just need to shoot your shot.” SO THAT’S WHEN SERA DECIDES TO FIRE AN ARROW AT ALMITHARA’S WINDOW EVERY DAY TO TRY AND COURT HER

[iamonlybutaneel]

Mentally I am here

[thedragonhermit]

Been seeing the hot witch wife meme floating around and felt obliged to make this addition while I’m suffering from Merrill DA2 brain rot again

[mosartandjunk]

they're married ur honor

[fanstuffrantings]

Tidied up an older hawke/Merrill sketch I did to put in my convention application folder.

[buttsonthebeach]

Anywhere But Home

Back to writing Solavellan angst and it feels so goooood

Pairing: Ellana Lavellan x Solas (past); Marian Hawke x Merrill (past)

Rating: M for Mature - sexual themes and images

Triggers and Spoilers: Hawke is lost in the Fade; spoilers for Tevinter Nights

Summary: Nine years post-Trespasser, Ellana tries her best to move on.

His name was Varlan and Ellana hadn't seen him since the summer before she became Inquisitor, and when she slept with him, what she was really doing was slipping into an old self to see if it still fit, like the person she had been that summer was an old pair of trousers in the back of a drawer. She'd just forgotten about her. She could try her on again.

He wasn't an Inquisition agent - because of course she couldn't even dream of sleeping with any of them. And he wasn't some hero worshipper fascinated with the myth of her - because every one of them that had approached her since she became Inquisitor made her skin crawl. He wasn't a nobleman whose aims and ends she couldn't trust.

He was just Varlan of Clan Alvar, and they happened to be at the same inn, each passing through on their way to somewhere else. Her to Kirkwall. Him back to his clan.

“Ellana?”

And it was probably the fact that he said her name. It startled her at first - she was tying up her horse at the hitching post and he was just passing by, her hood was still mostly up, she was traveling alone, she was so used to being called Inquisitor or my lady. But then she saw him, recognized him, and it felt good. Just Ellana.

Clan Lavellan and Clan Alvar were close, both Marcher clans that overlapped in their roaming a few times each year, making him one of those people she couldn't actually remember meeting for the first time. He'd just been there. They'd slept together twice before, the last time being that summer before she left for the Conclave, twelve years ago now. So she could know, after passing a flask of whiskey back once or twice while reminiscing about old times in the room she let, that he really wanted to sleep with her for old time's sake and nothing more. She didn't take him up there with that intention - not really - but when it happened, she wasn't sorry.

Dorian had been after her about it anyway. Leliana, too. Gentle at first as the years went on and then more direct, he can't have been that good of a lay morphing into it's been 5 years and you deserve happiness, you know. Ellana, don't you think it's time to…? Maybe this would appease them.

And the first kiss did take her breath away. Not because she was in love with Varlan but because it had been nine years now since someone kissed her. His skin on her skin was exhilarating and too much - she kept her shirt on the whole time, and so did he. And gods it did feel good, it did, the weight of him -

“I'm clean,” he murmured. “If you wanted to…?”

“Me too,” she said, and it hurt even though it shouldn't. She knew she was clean because it had been eleven years since she lay with anyone. “I do.”

“Do you take a brew or should I…?”

That question hurt the worst somehow. She had just turned 39. And there was a part of her that wanted to lie, to not take her brew after he left (because he would leave), because she was getting older, and maybe this was her last chance -

“I do, but maybe to be extra safe…?”

“Of course.”

And gods it was good to feel him move in her, it was familiar, the roll of her hips and the delicious tension in her muscles and yes, it was her first time doing this since the loss of her left arm, but she could almost ignore that. Could almost pretend it was summer, an open field, stars above, and she was just herself. She'd go back to the circle of aravels after this. Restring her bow. Breathe in the woodsmoke. Hunt in the morning.

“I'm glad the gods brought us back together,” he said before he left. “And that they have kept you safe.”

She was sure he didn't intend the words to be cruel. But Halamshiral’s hallways echoed in her mind all the time now, and instantly she analyzed it. He did not ask about the vallaslin. She considered it a blessing. Perhaps he knew? Word had spread through the clans. But he still believed in the gods, still thought they kept her safe. So he knew and still believed?

Why was he conveniently at the same inn as her, at the same time, why had the conversation gone so easily, why had they slipped so easily into old familiar ways?

She banished the thoughts. It was fine. This was fine. She had moved on. She could move on. She carried on to Kirkwall, got settled in to her estate, had dinner with Merrill. Tried to stay in the same skin she'd found briefly with Varlan. Back to Ellana, just Ellana.

“About time!” Dorian said when she called. “Now, perhaps Mae and I can start finding someone eligible for you here in Tevinter. Make me a list and you know we'll make it so. I already have a house picked out for you in the countryside near my villa.”

His words were so bright and so brittle they might snap if he forced himself to be any cheerier. Ellana let out a dry laugh, tried to come up with a witty reply, and found her throat closed. What did she want?

“So I can't just move in alone? Varric gave me a whole house and a key to his city without insisting I have a partner.”

The crystal crackled. She thought maybe she heard a sigh.

“Of course not. Shall I send you the contract? Right after I get this bill passed about elves being able to own property of course.”

“Ah yes, that pesky little thing. Tell me how that's been going.”

“Oh, my friend,” Merrill said that night when Ellana recounted the conversation. How she had not even been able to make a list of what she might want in a future partner. “I don't think I could, either.”

Because Merrill had spent the last eleven years waiting and longing, too.

But Ellana kept trying. What would she want? She looked around Merrill’s table whenever there was a group for dinner. Most of her friends were elves from Kirkwall's alienage. Ellana had always envisioned herself with a fellow elf - but that was when she was young and living with her clan, so of course she assumed she'd bond to someone Dalish. Did that have to be true now? She'd always been with men. Did that have to be true now?

She tried to feel a sense of wonder and possibility. She was arguably the most privileged elf in Thedas, with money, power, and connections in every country. She could envision whatever life she wanted for herself.

The sense of wonder never came.

But Charter did. Back from a teahouse in Hunter Fell, after months of searching and gathering information and coordinating a meeting between spies of every conceivable faction.

“I have news of the idol,” she said. “If you wanted to go get Mistress Hawke.”

She and Merrill both perched, tense, through Charter's tale. It confirmed much of what they had suspected. It was back in the Dread Wolf's hands. That was how Charter referred to him the whole time. Merrill interjected occasionally and called him Fen'Harel. Ellana pretended it was all a story.

“One figure comforting another,” Merrill murmured. “Mythal comforting Fen'Harel himself, if his tales of being her right hand are to be believed? I am more certain now than ever that it was a tool of Arlathan that was blighted, like my eluvian. Perhaps related like the arulin'holm, something used in rituals of creation, lyrium stored directly within to power the spells? One of the implements he used to create the Veil? I never laid hands on it myself. I didn't go into the Deep Roads with Marian, and the fight with Meredith - it was not my focus. I wish I'd had time to see it, study it…”

“That window has certainly closed,” Charter said, shifting her weight, settling into a stance, like she was expecting a blow. “Solas assured me of that.”

Ellana stood.

“He what?”

And then Charter told the end of the tale. The moment she realized the Orlesian bard was not Orlesian at all. How only she and Solas walked out of that room.

The untouched tea.

Her mind circled that detail over and over again until she could smell the fresh plaster in the rotunda, hear the caws of Leliana's ravens, feel the warmth of a hand on her back -

“So he still doesn't like tea?” She finally managed, when she realized Merrill and Charter were staring.

“No, my lady,” Charter said, lowering her eyes.

Ellana hated Charter suddenly. She'd been in the room with Solas. Close enough to touch. She'd heard his voice. Did he look well? Did he look tired? Did he -

“And - Inquisitor, he told me to tell you - that he is sorry.”

It was meant to be a mercy but it felt like a deathblow. Like bleeding out, lungs collapsing, praying there was a healer nearby, eyesight fading.

“Thank you, Charter. That will be all for tonight.”

He is sorry?

“Lethallan,” Merrill said, and let the word hang in the air.

“It’s fine, Merill. You should go.”

“Lethallan.”

He is sorry?

She couldn't talk about this with Merrill. Couldn't ask the woman whose wife she’d left to die to comfort her because the man who willingly left her had sent her a message via a spy, and it was that he was sorry, but he was still going to rip the world asunder.

“Tomorrow. Let's hike to the summit of Sundermount.” The words came from someone else who happened to have Ellana's own voice.

Merrill left. Ellana sat down. She took a breath, then another. She closed her eyes.

He is sorry.

And suddenly, he was in the room with her: Solas Solas Solas Solas. So close she could touch him. She could see him, the sadness in his eyes, hear the hitch in his quiet voice.

Tell the Inquisitor - I am sorry.

Varlan had been on top of her, in her, fingers in her hair, and he was not as real to her then as that image of Solas was now. As she sat there, choking on the unfairness of his words.

He was sorry, but he was still gone. And she was never going to be the same again without him. All the Varlans in the world couldn't change that. All it would take was one word, one dream, to bring her back to the way he looked at her, the way he shook his head, kissed her again. To come, while the music plays, dance with me.

Ellana went to bed and allowed herself to imagine that Solas was down the hall, painting. That she had called for him already, sleepily, that he said he'd be there in a moment. That right when she was on the edge of sleep, he slid into bed, threaded an arm around her waist, and kissed her. He would be warm, solid, large behind her, but he would melt into her too, lean his weight against her - each of them leaning on each other, sheltering each other. And as she imagined it, she felt it - wonder. Bright as midday sun.

She woke alone, flecks of red in her smalls warning her that soon another chance would be gone (even though Varlan had pulled out and she had taken her brew because she knew, knew she couldn't be a mother now, not now, not without him). She went downstairs, saw the letters that had arrived overnight, all addressed to the Herald and the Inquisitor. The final reminder that, Solas or no, there was no way back to that summer field twelve years ago. The world had destroyed Ellana Lavellan and raised up something else instead. Harding said it in the Frostback Basin. Once you are more than a person to someone, you're also less than a person to them. So there was only forward. Deep breath in, out again. Just keep going.

Merrill was already at her door, bags packed, ready for the long day. Smiling even though her eyes were sad. The path up Sundermount felt longer, Ellana's footsteps heavier than usual. She could go anywhere she wanted but home, could have her choice of lovers but not the man she loved. Everyone knew her name but she hardly knew herself anymore, some days.

But then they were at the summit, looking out over Kirkwall and the sea, and if her footsteps didn't feel any lighter, she at least felt equal to their weight again.

“Varric will want to know about the idol,” Merrill said at last.

“Yes. I'll go see him tomorrow. I think he'll be even more involved now that we know for sure Solas has it. It will be even more personal.”

“You are his friend. It has been personal from the beginning.”

Ellana sighed. There were ships out on the sea. What if Solas was on one of them?

“I wish it was only about duty. Only about serving Thedas. For all of us.”

“Would you really wish that you had never met Solas? Never loved him?”

I felt the world change.

“No.”

“It's a good thing he is sorry. That means there is hope.”

A bitter laugh rose in Ellana's throat but she swallowed it down. Hope was a meager thing to live on, year in and year out. But Merrill knew that better than anyone.

“Yes. There is hope.”

They sat up there, breathing hope in and out together, and then they carried it back with them to Kirkwall.

[llysaan]

Inktober Day 19: Puppy Dog Eyes

It’s about the pining 😌

[soul-siren]

As a bonus DA art:

I finished my replay of DA2 and forgot Hawke reacts in the banter with Isabela and Bethany.

Poor Terrwyn.

I was committed to the girl gang through the whole game, so poor Terrwyn had to listen to every banter of Isabela's attempts at corrupting her little sister for Act 1. 🤣

[sanzosin]

I just wanna say first that I love your art it's so beautiful. Second your Hawke I just want to hug her like she so cute.

I had question tho. Did your Hawke ever flirt with anyone besides Anders? Or is she a one person kind of girl?

My Hawke is a one person kinda girl , but ya know...when you show you care..sometimes ppl care back <3 and that's worth caring for!

Thank You for your kind ask and caring <3

BONUS

[scarfacemarston]

saw your post saying that you want ideas for Fenris, so here's my 5 cents;

You know the romance ending for Fenris? Whenever I see it and I hear Varric say "a hero was born" for some reason that makes me think that it is giving us the idea that Fenris has become a dad, soooooo, any thoughts on Fenris as a dad?

Have a good day/night

Hey! I LOVE that idea. Seriously, that is so heartwarming to think of. It's been months since I've written hc and I've never written for Fenris before, but I hope you like it! I have bonus hc's from the crew below the cut. Background: Despite being together for over several years since Act 3 and the fact that they might as well have been married, Varric and crew still found themselves surprised to hear that Fenris and Hawke were pregnant/adopting. "Broody with a Broody Jr on the way? I knew it'd happen at some point; you owe me 50 coppers, Rivani."

If pregnant - Hawke was initially worried Fenris would leave them because of their first night together, but he had proven himself loyal to a fault numerous times, the thought thankfully disrupted quickly.

Fenris is the worrying warrior until after the baby is born, or if adopting, til they bring them home.  His mind is always going a mile a minute risk calculation and problem-solving for things that haven't yet happened. Hawke has to get him to snap out of it. He's extremely attentive partially because he tries to think about any possible situation and discomfort and how to avoid it. If Hawke is pregnant, he's ready, whether through ginger tea, soothing balms, hot towels, massages, craving outings, you name it.

It's not original, but the baby would definitely be named Bethany, Leandra, or Malcolm if it's a son. With adoption, he feels a little more in control. (I love the idea of Fenris having a daughter, so that's what I'm using her. Feel free to hc differently!)

The baby loves his voice. Adores it. She perks up whenever Fenris speaks, even if it's the quietest of murmurs or humming. Fenris would talk to the baby if his partner is pregnant, calming her down, especially if she starts kicking.  

He doesn't mind getting up in the middle of the night to take care of her. He's lived on such little sleep before, but this was something worth it. He sometimes likes the quiet to reflect on his new life and gaze at the miracle in his arms.

Fenris has to be reminded to put her down sometimes so Hawke can hold her ---then Hawke has to be reminded to put down the baby so they can get work done.

Definitely lots of story time together and time spent reading books together. 

He wants his child to be curious about the world and not be afraid to question why things are the way they are. He encourages her to ask difficult questions, even if it's something he doesn't always want to answer. He will try to answer in an age-appropriate manner anyhow.

Incredibly protective. He never thought he'd have a family, and now he has someone who depends on him more than anything. He is never far from her; if he can't chase after them, she's in a playpen where he can keep watch. However, he also tells himself that falling and making mistakes is okay. Scratched knees or messes are to be expected. Fenris becomes very good at toeing the line between being protective and allowing her to pick herself up and figure out solutions "by herself." (Of course, he'll still be there to kiss it better or give her a boost.)

He and Hawke agree that they'd rather gift her love and time than gifts.

Somehow, Fenris has ended up with an extra Malbari, 2 cats, and a goat as pets.

He teaches her a lot of skills, Lots of nature excursions, and teaches her things like navigation, plant identification, starting a fire, and helping her learn a language. 

He and Hawke agree to teach her self-defense once she's old enough. He's a firm & thorough but patient teacher.

He and Hawke believe she should do whatever she pleases with her body. Does she want long-flowing hair? He'll show off his braiding skills. Does she want chopped hair like FemHawke? Done. 

If she turns out to be a mage, Fenris would accept it. He would know that was a possibility whether she was biologically theirs - because of Hawke's mage line or, if adopted, that it is a randomized gene. He would be lying if he didn't think their lives would be easier if she wasn't a mage - but that is because he is worried for her and the current politics - not so much because of his past treatment of mages. It would take him a little time to process it, but he would love her just the same……….he only hopes that Hawke or one of their friends can help with the magic because turning the floor into an ice rink or the smell of burnt hair can only be tolerated for so long.

Bonus:

The Hawke crew isn't always around, but I like to hear them stay in touch and visit. Maybe they still travel together. I hated the idea of them breaking up.

Varric has most definitely written a few adventures with her in mind - one being a talking animal version of Hawke's adventures. Another about griffons and another about malbari adventurers.

Merrill brings the sweetest gifts and loves telling stories and taking her foraging. Flower crowns are a must.

Isabela develops a liking for stuffed plushies. It started with a stuffed parrot, and before they knew it, the bed was crowded with stuff like Malbari, parrots, griffon, cats, and whatever she could find. Isabela also gives her her first pirate sword. Baby Hawke loves her jewelry.

Aveline - mage or not - offers to train her in combat. Of course, Hawke laughs and says, "She's a baby. I think she's fine for now." She'd offer to babysit - Hawke having a child really has her curious about starting her own family with Donnic when they can find the time. Donnic makes her a set of cards so she can "play" diamondback with them.

Anders offers medical care if he is around and also offers to tutor her in magic - but I think we all know what Fenris' thoughts on that would be. Still, Fenris would begrudgingly be thankful for any care he provided.

[hollyand-writes]

In this chapter, Merrill, Tamlen and Mahariel go on tour... and decide to stop by Lothering after all. Huge thanks to @storybookhawke for this lovely art – original artwork post (without text) is here.

Title: A Chance Engagement Rating: Teen and Up Audiences Chapters: 57/? Pairings: Eventual Carver/Merrill, background F!Mahariel/Tamlen and F!Hawke/Isabela; other pairings not revealed yet Other characters: Marian Hawke, Bethany Hawke, Leandra Hawke, Isabela, Tamlen, Fenarel, Female Mahariel, Keeper Marethari, Sabrae Clan, Arishok, Pol, Dragon Age: Redemption Characters (Chapters 51 to 53)   Other tags: Alternative Universe – Regency, Pride & Prejudice References, Bethany and Carver Hawke Live, Pride & Prejudice AU, Fluff and Humour, Ballroom Dancing, Secret Relationships, Comedy of Errors, Jane Austen References, Pining, Rejected Marriage Proposals     Summary: “It is a truth universally acknowledged, Lady Leandra Amell tried to impress upon her three children, that a single man in possession of a large fortune must be in want of a wife. However she hoped this wisdom would be received by her offspring, Lady Amell was dismayed to find that it had not had the effect she intended.” Regency AU. When Miss Merrill attends the Kirkwall public assembly ball, the last man she expects to engage in a dance is Carver Hawke – a single man who has just come into possession of a large fortune. This chance meeting, however, sets them both on a path they never expected. READ FROM THE BEGINNING ON ARCHIVE OF OUR OWN

———

The weeks passed away quickly; and the period of Merrill’s much-anticipated travels arrived. The night before, Merrill had been so excited she thought she would not sleep; and on the morning itself she flitted about so happily and exuberantly, that Keeper Marethari could not temper her high spirits if she tried. Merrill believed that even Tamlen and Mahariel were not as happy as she was, even though they themselves were clearly excited and cheerful that morning, given they were setting off in pursuit of novelty and amusement with her. 

Tamlen himself was in such good humour that he even agreed to accompany Merrill and Mahariel in calling on the Hawke sisters before they went – although he insisted that their visit was as brief as possible, for he wanted to cross the Waking Sea and reach Ferelden well before nightfall – and this they did, although Miss Bethany was out again with her mother, and they found Miss Hawke all alone and writing a letter.  

‘Bethany will be so disappointed to have missed you,’ Miss Hawke told them, as she folded up her letter to seal it, ‘but I am thankful you decided to take leave of us before you depart for the countryside. And it is an honour, Mr Sabrae,’ she continued politely to Tamlen, ‘that you decided to accompany your wife and cousin. I bid you all safe travels and adieu, and look forward to hearing all about them when you eventually return to Kirkwall.’ 

‘I will miss you!’ Merrill cried as she hugged her friend, taking Miss Hawke so much by surprise that the latter dropped the folded letter she had been holding. ‘Oh! I am so sorry, Miss Hawke – let me get that for you—’ and here Merrill bent down to pick up the parchment that had floated to the floor; Miss Hawke had bent down for it too; but, in her nervousness at having done something wrong again, Merrill was quicker. 

As she picked up the sheet of paper, which was full with Miss Hawke’s handwriting, Merrill caught sight of the words:  

I will submit to any thing you may command me—but cease to respect, to love and adore you, I never can or will. 

Read more on AO3...

[gardensystemtv]

Have a little Wip Whenever, because I'm really proud of it.

Faith followed Merrill outside, looking at the small shrine to Falon’Din Merrill had already prepared.

“I’m sorry it’s so small, but I hope it will do for just us.” Merrill said, locking the door and walking up to Faith.

“No, it’s perfect. Me and my father use a similar one, actually.” The shrine had a small statue of Falon’Din, wielding a staff and an owl flying above him. Around the statue were a bunch of small candles, and two slightly larger candles on a stick.

Merrill and Faith both got on their knees in front of the shrine, and grabbed the larger candles. Merrill grabbed a matchbox from her pockets and took out a match, lighting it and using it to light both candles. With the candles lit, Merrill led with a small poem in Elvhen.

“Ma sahlin’al sa sethenerin, an dellan era mirthadra din. Ma serannas Falon’Din ghilana ma lath dinan’an, la desin vallas var lethallen in elgar’an”    while Merrill said the Renin’din, the words of the dead, both Faith and Merrill used the candles they were holding to light the ones around the shrine, starting at the outside and meeting eachother at the middle.

[imakemywings]

Hellooooo Merhawke fans, anyone want to toss some links my way of Merrill/f!Hawke fanfics you've enjoyed (or written)?

[dirtybiowareconfessions]

Confession: I just know merrill and f!hawke (And isabela, occasionally) have the kinkiest blood magic sex you've ever imagined

[monazonezz]

[dragonjoys]

some sketches to deal with the da2 brainrot <3