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incorrectly-quoted-queers · 5 years ago

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Wicked Surprises

Merribela Week, Day 1: Cards

fandom: Dragon Age rating: PG-13 characters: Merrill x Isabela words: 2.3k additional tags: Wicked Grace, flirty, first attraction description: Varric brings Merrill along to Wicked Grace, but after Varric leaves things get a little steamy between Isabela and the sweetest elf she’d never thought she’d have the hots for

For all the clever airs he put on, Isabela was always amused by how Varric ended up in a duel to the death against her during the final rounds of Wicked Grace. And he’d always start furrowing his brows a few hands in, because he’d go in so sure he could beat her. She knew well enough to let him win a few rounds, get his hopes up, just to destroy him when his self-confidence turned into unfounded arrogance.

They were just hitting the tipping point, about five games in. He put too much money in this time after a streak of wins. And even though his mouth acted in control, it was always his eyebrows that gave it away. Isabela smirked. Everything was going according to plan.

Well, at least when it came to Varric and Hawke. She’d scared the sassy mage under the table two rounds ago and the dwarf was hitting his tipping point. But there was an unexpected element in the game tonight.

At the end of the table, only inches from her, was a chipper little elf with gorgeous, bright green eyes, her feet crossed dainty under her chair. Merrill was sitting there smiling at her cards like they were candy. Most of the time, she figured the ex-Dalish was too saccharine for her tastes. However, tonight there was this mischievous little grin on her face each time somebody dropped out.

Isabela couldn’t tell if she just had good cards and didn’t know how to lie, or was pulling off the most manipulative, yet wholesome looking heist she’d ever seen.

Taking her eyes off the most interesting character at the table, Isabela leaned back in her chair and nodded at her dwarven buddy, his eyebrows looking so tense they could fly right off. She asked, “Going to do anything with your turn, Varric?”

After a few flitting glances between his cards and Isabela, he grumbled and threw his cards down. “Dammit, I’m out.” Even though he was glaring and crossing his arms, Isabela felt so much electric satisfaction. It sizzled under her skin. If she wasn’t such a good pirate, she might have made one hell of a gambler.

Merrill pouted next to him. Bemused, Isabela wanted to see what she was up to. A cute pout like that had to be deliberate. Batting her eyelashes at Varric, Merrill said, “That’s no fun.” Isabela was caught off guard when those sparkly eyes looked straight at her. “Guess that just leaves me and Isabela, right?Or are you quitting, too?”

Running her tongue behind her teeth, Isabela shook her head. Not so easy, baby doll. Not that she minded seeing this new side of Merrill. “Don’t think your cute smile’s about to scare me away.”

“You think my smile’s cute?”

Isabela wasn’t used to finding herself caught off guard more than once in a conversation. She also didn’t know how to respond to Merrill’s eyes sparkling extra while looking at her and talking about smiles. But whatever the elf’s ploy was, she wasn’t going to get in her head. “Not the point.” Isabela gestured to the finished game in front of them and said, “Time to show your hand, better hope it’s a good one.”

“I dunno, but I think I did okay for myself.” And then with that helpless, adorable grin Merrill flipped her cards to show the best hand Isabela had ever seen in this seedy bar. Guess the dark haired elf with had more surprises than she expected in her tiny little hands.

“Well, well, can say I didn’t expect that.” Isabela showed her own abysmal hand and felt her entire body liven up with interest. There wasn’t much about this world that surprised her anymore, more like unfortunate possibilities that she hadn’t counted on happening.

But a surprise, and a pleasant one at that, was something she didn’t want to let go of so easy. Giving Merrill a once over, she said, “I have to see if you can make lightning strike twice. You in, Varric?”

“Nah, Hawke’s already weeping under the table because he lost so I’ll get his ass home.” After standing and dragging up the drunk Hawke with him, Varric gave Isabela a pointed look. “Take care of Daisy, will ya?”

Merrill didn’t look too happy about that, though she couldn’t tell if it was out of annoyance or guilt. “She doesn’t have to--”

“My pleasure.”

Varric seemed pleased with that and lef Hawke out of The Hanged Man, managing to miss other handsy drunk patrons along the way. They both waved the two off and watched the door open and close behind them.

But the second Varric’s orange head was out of the way, Merrill was looking at her again with pinched lips and a wrinkled forehead. “I can take care of myself.”

It made Isabela laugh, how tightly wound Merrill looked. That was more like what she expected. However, Isabela was a little too intrigued to let the elf get all awkward and tense again. She wanted to see what else was underneath. The few glimpses already made her way too interested to let the more salacious side of Merrill slip away. But she did admit, “Sure you can. I’ve seen you in a fight. I’m just making the grumpy dwarf feel better.”

“Oh. Thank you, then.”

Isabela raised an eyebrow, flicked a card with her fingers, and egged Merrill on, saying, “So are you actually good at this game or was that just a lucky draw?”

“What? Think I can’t have beaten you on wits alone?”

Chuckling, Isabela leaned on the table and bit her lip. “No offense, but I doubt it.”

“I take offense to that, but I’ll let it go. Not your fault I have a “cute smile””

Of all things, teasing wasn’t what Isabela expected. This night was only getting better and better. She even was starting to wonder what other surprises those cute, pink lips of Merrill’s had for her.

Maybe this night would get even more interesting than she ever expected.

“Is that all you’re going to talk about now, the fact I said you have a cute smile?”

“When you normally tell people they have nice arse or tits? I take it as a uniquely rare compliment.”

Isabela bristled. She didn’t like that as much as the rest of this conversation. She cut her eyes at Merrill. “There’s nothing wrong with me enjoying company in my bed.”

Shaking her hands in front of her innocently, Merrill looked startled.“That’s not what I meant at all.” Then she looked down at her hands, this little blush covering her cheeks, and said, “I meant it’s nice to hear you say you like my smile.”

While most things about tonight were a delicious mystery, Isabela knew that kind of smile and it made her fingertips tingle. Little miss flower might just have a crush on her. Things just got so, so much more interesting. Especially when said woman wasn’t bad to look at. Good company, too, albeit like a sugar rush sometimes.

In her element, Isabela brushed her foot against Merrill’s. Her posture shot straight up and the blush got a little more noticeable. “If I didn’t know any better, Merrill, I’d say you were flirting.”

“M-maybe it’s all a part of my grand scheme to beat you at cards.”

Winking, Isabela said, “You starting this kind of game with me, flower? I will win every time.”

“Will you? How so?”

Merrill was just making this easier and easier for her, huh? Well, either she was going to scare the elf off or get a much more evening than she bargained for. Whether it was some squirming or screaming, Isabela was open to either option. She twirled a lock of her hair with her finger. “With someone like you? All I have to do is have a drifting hand or to talk about what my tongue can do under your dress, and you’re done. I’ll have won.”

Even though Merrill’s cheeks flared, she swallowed and didn’t flinch. Impressive. “Well you aren’t winning right now.” The little elf, exhaled, slow. Isabela watched the way her chest fell. Even though she was petite, she had to admit her body had to be beautiful under her green tunic. She did wonder how soft her skin that didn’t touch routine battle might be.

But as Isabela was getting far too distracted about all the possibilities of tonight, even though she was pretty sure they’d never happen, Merrill tipped her finished hand and raised an eyebrow at Isabela. Another great damn hand. Merrill's eyes were practically gleaming when she winked at her. “So what do you want to do next?”

Okay, she had to admit that was a little hot. Her throat was a lot dryer than she remembered.

Showing her own cards, she had to accept she got her ass handed to her. Again. “How--”

“A winner never tells their secrets.” Merrill’s cute smile was starting to have less than a wholesome effect on Isabela. She was fantasizing about what she had to do to get Merrill’s intentions to turn a little more than friendly. Cleavage and some mild flirting normally worked, but they were already past that point. “

Across from her, Merrill asked, Another?”

“I’m out of spare coin, I’m afraid.” Isabela couldn’t get the idea of that green tunic on her bedroom floor out of her head, though. It was time to put the ball in Merrill’s court, try to feel out where her head was at. After all, this wasn’t just some drunken, hot girl that she could make fall in love with her for a night. This was sort of her co-worker. She had to be a little more delicate with it. Raising an eyebrow, Isabela said,“But we can always wager more interesting things.”

“Like what?”

“Each failed round, loser drops a piece of clothing?”

Merrill's red cheeks were really starting to do it for Isabela, and it was getting really distracting. She replied, a little overwhelmed.“Not in the middle of the bar!”

Isabela accepted the loss. This idea of her and Merrill wasn’t a real practical one. This was probably just a rare night that’d never happen again. Chocking it up to fun flirting that she’d have to work out of her system on some cute rando later, Isabel conceded, “Well then--”

“W-What if we went to your room?”

Her lips fell into an easy smile that warmed up her whole body. But Merrill just kept on surprising her, didn’t she?

Cocking her head towards her back room, she collected the cards and brushed her fingers against Merrill’s. “Then I guess we have ourselves a game.”

When they got back to Isabela’s room, she was practically drunk on the thought of seeing how far her vallaslin really went. So drunk that Isabela lost a couple rounds way too fast. She had wriggled out of her boots and top less than half an hour later. Only upside was that the red-cheeked Merrill was having a hard time keeping her eyes off of Isabela’s, um, assets.

So much trouble that after losing way too many helpless rounds, Isabela finally won.

“Ha! Seems your winning streak just ended.”

When Merrill grabbed the edges of her shirt, though, her hands were shaking. No matter how much Isabela wanted to toss the elf on her bed and see how long it took to make her moan, it didn’t sit right with her, seeing her so uncomfortable. Before Merrill started pulling off anything, Isabela grabbed her hand and shook her head. “You know, you don’t have to--”

But Merrill took away her hand and peeled off the top like it offended her. “I’m not a child.”

“No, you’re not.” Isabela took a deep breath, seeing the pale, pristine skin underneath. She could see Merrill’s chest rise and fall under her crossed arms. With a soft hand, Isabela caressed her side. Though her face was still red and she looked so unsure, Merrill didn’t pull away.

Tucking a hand under her chin, Isabela pulled Merrill closer and said, “You’re beautiful, you know.”

“Funny, coming from the most beautiful woman in every room.”

“You can’t mean that.”

“Of course I do.” When Merrill’s eyes flicked down to Isabela’s chest, she covered her red face with her hands. “A-And I’m not just saying that because you don’t have a top on!”

“You’re adorable.” Letting go of her, Isabela held back her more powerful feelings about looking at Merrill and said, “But don’t start this game unless you’re serious about playing it through.”

“You dare ask that? I may be awkward and small and people don’t take me quite seriously. But I’m still a woman, Isabela.” She unfurled her arms and held her head high. “Don’t patronize me.”

With that, Isabela found her fingers on Merrill’s hips, pulling her in closer, whispering in her ear, “I’m not trying to patronize you. I’m trying to make sure you want this. Because I want you to end up in my bed because you can’t resist me, not because you weren’t sure how to tell me to stop.”

“Don’t.”

Isabela looked directly into those bright green eyes and waited for the delicious words she wanted to hear. “Don’t what?”

“Don’t stop.”

One gentle pull and Merrill’s body was pressed against hers, and she could feel the elf’s heartbeat against her own chest. It made it hard to keep teasing her, but it was so damn worth it. “And what would you like me to start doing, then?”

“Kiss me.” Hovering her lips over Merrill’s, Isabela chose to play the insatiable asshole. She wanted to see just how much she could make Merrill squirm.

“All you have to do is say you want me.”

Merrill pulled back her face and glowered. “Don’t make some sadistic joke out of my feelings--”

“I’m not.” Isabela got close again, running her hand up Merrill’s back, pulling at the smallclothes left on her body. “Tell me you want me.”

“I bloody want you. Happy now?”

And that was all she needed to hear before crashing her lips down onto hers.

What a surprising night, indeed. She wouldn’t mind letting Merrill surprise her more often.

#Merribela #Merribela week #Dragon Age 2 #Bioware Romances #merrill x isabela #Wicked Grace #Merrill #Isabela #Varric #Dragon Age fanfiction #fanfiction #Merribelaweek

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cruelangelstheses · 5 years ago

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to build a home

fandom: dragon age rating: G characters: merrill/isabela, varric words: 1.1k additional tags: canon compliant, fluff, act 1, pre-relationship description: varric brings isabela along to get some housewarming gifts for merrill. a/n: hi!! i’m running @merribelaweek and today (sunday) is the first day so i wrote this for one of the prompts, “act 1”! title is from “to build a home” by the cinematic orchestra

read it on ao3

—

“No offense, Varric,” Isabela says as they wander the streets of Lowtown, “but why did you choose me for this expedition?”

Varric stops at a merchant’s table and starts sifting through the knickknacks, holding each one up and examining it in the sunlight. “Because, Rivaini,” he says smoothly, “you’re the only other person I know who has responded positively to Daisy’s integration into our little gang...and who actually has coin to spare.”

Isabela snorts. She was about to mention the Hawke siblings, but they certainly can’t afford anything unnecessary, and a housewarming gift for Merrill, while sweet, would definitely count as “unnecessary.” Aveline could probably buy something small, but she looks at Merrill like the poor girl is about to burst into demons at any moment, and Fenris and Anders don’t match either of Varric’s requirements.

“It’s a nice idea,” she says as she scans the items for sale. “I just…I’m not very good at giving gifts, I don’t think. I have no idea what she’d like.”

“I think she’d be happy to have anything,” Varric replies. “It’s the thought that counts, right?”

He’s right; of course he’s right, but Isabela still finds herself hesitating to even pick anything up. How is she supposed to know what Merrill would like? They only just met. Still, she forces herself to take a closer look at the little trinkets. Surely there’s something here that Merrill could use to brighten up her home.

At first, nothing sticks out to her. Varric has already chosen a little green amulet, a plain and simple thing that would go well with most of Merrill’s belongings. Other than that, though, she doesn’t see anything that really screams “Merrill.” Then, just as she’s about to give up and move on to another merchant selling similar goods, something catches her eye.

Near the back of the display, partially hidden behind some Andraste-themed statuettes, Isabela finds what looks to be a small wooden halla figure, hand-carved. She can’t find a name etched anywhere on it, but it’s most likely Dalish—and, she’ll admit, it’s a cute little thing.

“Oh, wow,” Varric says, glancing over at her. “Good find. That’s perfect.”

“It really is,” she agrees as she starts to pull some coin out of her bra.

Varric raises an eyebrow. “You know, if you’d just wear something with pockets, then you wouldn’t have to do that.”

“That’s a lose-lose,” Isabela says. Then, shifting the topic of conversation back to Merrill, she adds, “Hey—is this really enough, Varric? It doesn’t feel like enough.”

Varric chuckles. “Gotta say, Rivaini, I never took you for a philanthropist.”

Isabela rolls her eyes. “Oh, shut it. I just feel like...well, she’s in such an unfamiliar place, and she doesn’t really have anyone. The least we can do is make her feel more comfortable at home.” Immediately after she says it, she scowls and presses a threatening finger into Varric’s chest. “Never breathe a word of this to anyone, dwarf, or you won’t be breathing at all before long.”

Varric holds his hands up innocently. “Hey, my lips are sealed.”

Isabela huffs and shakes her head. “Why do I not believe you?”

As they walk away from the merchant’s stand with their gifts, Isabela racks her brain for another idea. It feels like they’re missing something. Suddenly, it hits her.

“Daisies!” she blurts.

Varric narrows his eyes. “Yeah, what about her?”

“No, not Daisy; daisies,” Isabela says. “You said she keeps picking flowers out of people’s gardens in Hightown, right? We should get her some.”

Varric laughs. “You know, for someone who claims to be bad at giving gifts, I’d say you’ve got a knack for it.”

“Shh. Don’t tell anyone.”

—

Merrill’s house in the alienage, while small, is relatively clean, but Merrill still apologizes for what she perceives to be a huge mess. Isabela isn’t really the best judge of what a nice home looks like, though, considering that she’s spent most of her life either on a ship or in any number of cheap taverns, of which the Hanged Man is only the most recent. Compared to that and most of their other companions’ homes—Gamlen’s house, a dilapidated mansion, the literal fucking sewers—Merrill’s place seems positively cozy.

“So, what brings you two here?” she asks, curiously eyeing the bouquet of daisies in Varric’s hand.

“The Rivaini and I thought we’d get you a couple of housewarming gifts,” Varric explains with a smile. “To make you feel more comfortable here in Kirkwall.”

“Oh, please,” Isabela says, feeling her cheeks heat up just slightly. “It was Varric’s idea. He just invited me along.”

Merrill covers her face with her hands. “Oh, that’s so sweet of you both! Are those flowers for me?”

“Indeed they are,” Varric replies. “Do you have an empty vase anywhere?”

Merrill jumps up from her chair. “Oh! Yes, I do! Hang on!”

She scurries across the hall into her bedroom and returns half a minute later with a nice little vase full of water. She sets it down in the center of the table closest to the front door, and then Varric drops the daisies in.

“We got you some other things, too,” he adds, pulling the amulet and the statuette out of his coat. This is one of those times where pockets would have actually come in handy—not that she’s ever going to admit to Varric that she might have planned poorly for today’s excursion.

Merrill gasps and reluctantly takes the gifts from him. “Oh, these are both so lovely,” she coos, turning the amulet over and over in her hand, then turning her attention to the halla figure.

“I found that one,” Isabela says sheepishly. “The halla. I thought it would be perfect for you.”

“Oh, it is!” Merrill says. “And I know just where to put it, too!”

She runs back across the hall, beckoning for Varric and Isabela to follow her.

The bedroom is much more spare than the main room; it could definitely use some livening up. Merrill places the halla statuette on the little side table next to her bed. “That way it’s one of the first things I see when I wake up, and one of the last ones I see when I go to sleep.”

Isabela turns her face away from Merrill so that she won’t see her blush.

“That’s sweet of you, kitten,” she says with a smile.

“No, you’re the sweet ones,” Merrill replies. “Thank you so much for doing this. My house feels livelier already.”

With that, she leans down and wraps her arms around Varric, then turns to Isabela and hugs her, too, her small and dainty body fitting itself snugly against hers. Everything about her is soft: her clothes, her skin, her hair, her voice.

Isabela could almost cry. She won’t, obviously, but she could.

#dragon age 2 #merrill #isabela #merribela #merribelaweek #da2 #my fics

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wyvernscales · 3 years ago

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Hey I’m abt to write/revise an overly long Merribela fic, but I’m not really in the fandom. Would you rec any blogs/creators/works that are focused on DA2, and esp Merrill + Isabela? Thank you!

Unfortunately I don’t interact with a lot of the fandom either, so I’m not of much help. However:

@dragonagewlw is usually a great ref for female characters

@dalishious is an incredible blog all around and would totally recommend you look there for finding info on Merrill

I did some digging in the tags, and found some additional blogs that might be helpful, but I don’t know much about them.

@/fyeahmerrill posts Merrill content

@/merribelaweek has some fanart/fanfic, but I’m unsure if it’s still active

I totally encourage anyone who makes/knows where to find merribela content to like or reply to this, because I’d certainly like to see more of it 💕

#dragon age 2 #da2 #isabela #merrill #asks

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kirkwallgremlin · 5 years ago

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Day 1 - Cards / Mirror / Act 1

Written for one of the @merribelaweek week prompts! Day 1, but I forgot so it’s late and also only loosely edited. Not super relationshippy but hey ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Amidst the rowdy chatter of the Hanged Man, drinks on tables, music playing, people talking, Isabela relaxed back into her seat, watching the others continue their game of Wicked Grace. This round, she had no chance of winning and had folded early.

Beside the table, Merrill perched on her bench, knitting needles in hand. Exactly what she was making wasn’t clear - in fact Isabela was starting to suspect that perhaps Merrill wasn’t exactly good at knitting - but she seemed happy as the rest of the gang exchanged money across their card game.

“Are you trying to get the snake cards?” Merrill asked curiously, looking up from the… thing she was creating.

“Not exactly,” Isabela replied as Fenris slapped his cards triumphantly on the table. Anders swore and Fenris replied with a rude gesture. Hawke stepped in to divert the inevitable argument about to follow as Isabela continued. “You’re trying to get the best hand, and quickest. I can teach you if you want but the rules are complicated.”

“What rules?” Varric muttered. “Cheats, the lot of you.”

“Is that why you have a card up your sleeve?” Merrill asked curiously and Varric shrugged, slipping the card back into the deck. “Can I play?”

The whole table hesitated as Merrill shifted to sit directly at the table, pulling out a coin purse. Isabela noted the Dalish patterns carving their way through the leather.

“Maybe without money, Kitten,” Isabela said as Merrill placed a coin on the table, beaming at Hawke as Hawke shuffled the cards.

“It’s ok,” Merrill said, pushing the coin forward. Reluctantly, Hawke dealt the cards.

“I’ll help you sweet thing,” Isabela softly in her ear and Merrill smiled at her as she declined.

Rather unpredictably, Merrill lost the round - and quickly too - and Anders reluctantly claimed her money. In typical Merrill fashion, she didn’t seem to care, quickly adding another bet ready for the next round.

“You sure, babe?” Isabela whispered, still a little concerned. “I’ll play you without betting if you want to learn.” In a normal situation, Isabela would happily take somebody’s money off their hands but there was no fun in winning against an opponent who didn’t stand a chance, not when you actually liked the person and hoped to maintain a relationship.

“I’m sure.”

Merrill had the sweetest smile, something Isabela noted even while worried about it. Lately, she’d been worried about the elf a lot. She trusted too easily and Isabela had learnt many times that that didn’t end well.

“Angel of Death,” Hawke said smugly, laying down her cards.

“So we all show our cards now?” Merrill checked, adding hers to the table. Isabela’s eyes widened as Varric let out an impressed whistle.

“Nice hand Daisy,” he said. “Anyone able to beat that?

A wider smile spread across Merrill’s face.

“Did I win?”

“You won,” Hawke confirmed, pushing the coins across to her while she clapped in excitement.

Merrill did quite well that night, much better than expected. Initially, Isabela wondered if maybe the others were going easy on the cheerful elf but it quickly became apparent that they were as competitive as ever, even more so after several losses in a row.

The leather coin purse was significantly rounder by the time a slightly tipsy Merrill announced it was time to go home.

“I’ll come with you Kitten,” Isabela told her, pushing her own chair back from the table. Although she didn’t look it, Merrill was more than capable of taking care of herself but even she might struggle while less than sober and the coin purse on her belt - not to mention her slim figure and pointed ears - made her a tempting target.

It was only later, as they walked through to the Alienage, Merrill’s cheerful humming echoing against the walls as she stuck close to Isabela’s side, that Isabela realised perhaps the elf may have known more about cards than she had let on.

#isabela #merrill #merribela #isabela x merrill #gremfic

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vhenadahls · 5 years ago

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@merribelaweek I forgot to ping you the first time around!

may you be always breathtaking

Isabela and Merrill commandeer (ahem, borrow) a fishing boat for a little calm adventure.

Merrill/Isabela, 1000 words, rated G. For Merribela Week!

The title is from Goodnight New York, by Vienna Teng.

“Ahh, I do miss the sea,” Isabela says, dropping to a seat so her legs dangle off the end of the pier and leaning into the frankly putrid wind coming off the harbor. The slowly setting sun highlights her dark skin and hair, giving both a golden shine.

Merrill wrinkles her nose, both at the comment and the odor. “I sure don’t.” She plops down cross-legged next to Isabela, fidgeting to get comfortable. Or as comfortable as one can, on splintery dock boarding. “It smells horrid. And I was sick the whole time we were on the ship, I think I told you before.”

Isabela nods, but she doesn’t turn around. “You were belowdecks the whole time, you said. That’s no way to travel. And the smell?” She takes a deep breath, laughing. “Smells like freedom.”

“How can something smell like freedom?” Merrill asks. She tries to take a deep breath of her own, but she’s coughing over the stench almost before she’s started. Small, shallow breaths get her back in order, and she shakes her head. “Even if freedom did have a smell, I don’t think it smells like that!”

Keep reading

#next day reblog

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cruelangelstheses · 5 years ago

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in the salt and swell

fandom: dragon age rating: T characters: merrill/isabela words: 1.9k additional tags: historical au, mythology au, fluff, first meetings, flirting, mermaid au description: after she and her crew end up shipwrecked, isabela encounters a mermaid. a/n: hi!! this was written for day 2 of @merribelaweek (which was yesterday but it’s fine lmao) using the prompts “ocean” and “mythology”! title from “the ocean” by against me!

read it on ao3

—

Sailing into the storm was a gamble, she’d say about it later.

And what a gamble it was.

But they’d had little choice, being chased by three French ships hellbent on getting their goods back. They’re pirates, not Vikings, and rather than get their asses thoroughly handed to them in a naval battle, Captain Isabela had decided to sail directly into an oncoming storm, figuring that it would either scare the French away or do them in, too.

She was right about that part, and they got away with several famous paintings, all worth her weight in gold, that she’d promised a former acquaintance in exchange for freeing his slaves. The storm wasn’t finished with them, though, and while Isabela has sailed through her fair share of typhoons, none made their mark quite like this one did.

The tumultuous ocean, the uncontrollable winds, the horrifying crack of lightning that split her eardrums and sent the mast crashing down onto the deck—all of it is a blur of adrenaline in Isabela’s memory. She remembers clinging desperately to the wheel, at first to try to steer the ship, but eventually just to have something to hold on to. She remembers the way it popped off its hinges and took her with it.

She and her crew all survived, luckily, albeit quite a bit worse for wear and having lost a few barrels of cargo. The paintings survived, miraculously, having been stored in a large, watertight crate. Her ship, however, was not as fortunate.

The Siren’s Call. Her baby. She had smashed against an outcrop of large, jagged rocks, launching them all onto the rough, unforgiving shore. When Isabela first looked up and saw the damage, the splintered mast, the torn sails hanging limply, it felt as if she’d been gutted, like she’d lost a part of her. I don’t know if she can be fixed, Varric had said. Isabela almost slapped him.

As it turns out, she can be fixed—for a price. There’s a shipbuilder in the town closest to where they wrecked, a quaint port city just off the coast of Wales, who offered to repair it as long as they could pay the fee. With all the damage sustained, it cost almost as much as it would to just have a new ship built. After a heated debate with her crew in which more than one suggested just stealing a new ship, they decided to just pay up. It wasn’t like they were short on money, anyway, even after losing some of their cargo.

So now Captain Isabela and her pirate crew have to search for things to do to pass the time while they wait for the Siren’s Call to be repaired. They spend their first few nights gambling and cheating at cards, easily winning back some of the money they had to spend on the ship. During the day, though, they all go off on their own, taking strolls through town or day-drinking to ward off the pain from their injuries. Isabela, for her part, always finds herself drawn back to the sea.

It’s been less than a week since the shipwreck, but she already misses sailing more than she misses her own mother (which is not much at all, but the point still stands). She misses the sea spray on her face, the view of endless ocean on the horizon, the gentle rocking of the boat on open water. For now, though, she contents herself with walking along the shoreline, letting the waves lap at her toes and watching crabs skitter across the sand.

It’s during one of these excursions, while she’s standing up to her knees alone in the water and breathing in the salty air, that Isabela notices something out in the distance.

The first thing that catches her attention is a splash, and when she squints, she can see droplets of saltwater flying up into the sky and then falling back down again. It’s probably a fish, she thinks, but if so, it’s quite a large one. Then she sees it: a green, fan-like tail at least the size of a dolphin’s. Every few seconds, it pops back up above the water with a splash, each time closer to Isabela than the last. By now she can see a dark silhouette beneath the surface, and it’s headed straight for her.

Isabela takes a few steps backward and reaches into her coin purse, where she’s stored a small but effective dagger. If this were a shark, she’d probably just run, but she has no idea what this creature is. She’s never seen anything like it.

Before she can make a decision, a head pops up out of the water, and Isabela almost chokes in surprise.

It’s a girl.

Granted, she has strange markings, almost like tattoos, all over her face, and her ears are shaped like fins, but nonetheless, Isabela is undoubtedly staring at a person.

A person with a fish tail.

“Hello!” the girl says in a lilting Welsh accent. “Are you and your friends alright? I saw the shipwreck a few days ago. Nasty one, that was.”

For a few seconds, Isabela just stares, dumbfounded. Then, snapping back into reality, she shakes her head and replies, “I, uh—yes, we’re all fine. What is—who—what are you?” If she didn’t know any better, she’d think she was hallucinating, but she didn’t drink that much last night (the more sober she is, the better she is at cards), and she hasn’t drank at all today. Two equally distressing thoughts cross her mind: One, she shouldn’t be hallucinating; and two, she’s fairly certain that she isn’t.

“Oh! Sorry,” the girl says. “I take it you’ve never met a mermaid before? I suppose you wouldn’t have; we mostly keep to ourselves.”

Isabela blinks a few times, but the girl—the mermaid—doesn’t disappear. “No,” she says indignantly. “I’ve never even heard of you except for in stories. Fictional stories. You know, mythology and such.”

“All stories contain some element of truth in them,” the girl replies, matter-of-fact.

Isabela frowns and thinks back to when she and her crew first ended up on the beach. Captain, I know you’ll never believe me, Varric had said to her, but I think I saw a...a siren or a mermaid or something. When she called bullshit, he’d added, I was underwater, and then I felt these soft, small hands grabbing my wrists and pulling me to shore. When I opened my eyes, I swear I saw some half-human, half-fish thing diving back into the sea.

She hadn’t taken him seriously, of course, but why would she? Even if she’d believed in mermaids, Varric is always making up fanciful tales; in fact, that’s about all he does. How was she to know that he might have actually been telling the truth for once in his life?

“You...you saved one of my crewmates,” she says out loud.

The girl nods. “Right, the stout one with all that chest hair.”

Isabela lets out a short bark of a laugh. “You noticed that?”

The girl shrugs. “How could I not? He seemed to practically have it out on display. But I thought maybe the storm had just messed his clothes up.”

Isabela shakes her head. “No, he wears all his shirts like that.”

The girl puts her hands up to her mouth and giggles. Isabela can’t help the astonished smile that creeps onto her face. She’s having a conversation with a mermaid, and quite a beautiful one at that.

“Oh!” the girl says suddenly. “I didn’t even introduce myself. I’m Merrill.”

It’s a lovely name, even lovelier when she says it with that pretty voice of hers. “You can call me Isabela,” Isabela says. “Well. Technically it’s Captain Isabela, but I don’t exactly have a ship to captain right now.”

Merrill grimaces. “Yeah, it was in pretty bad shape last I saw it. Is it getting fixed up? I noticed the shipbuilder investigating it the other day.”

“It is,” Isabela says, and then she laughs again as realization strikes her. “Do you know what I named it? I named it the Siren’s Call.”

Merrill snorts. “See, you were bound to meet one of us sooner or later.”

Isabela takes another few steps backward and sits down in the shallow tides, not even caring that she’s getting ocean water and wet sand on her clothes. Merrill swims up to her and lies down on her side a few paces ahead of her, letting the waves crash over her.

Up close, Isabela can see the way her torso gradually shifts from human to fish. The lower half of her body is one long, large fish tail that shimmers with bright green scales. Her top half is the same as a human’s, save for the ears. Isabela can’t help but notice that Merrill isn’t wearing any kind of covering, not that she really expected her to.

“Must be nice,” she says, eyeing her companion’s chest, “being able to just bare your whole self like that. We humans have societal norms that make it socially unacceptable for me to run around nude. Or even just in my smallclothes.”

Merrill giggles and makes no move to cover her breasts. “So I’ve heard.”

For a moment, they both just stare, each taking the other in. Then Isabela asks about the thing that’s been on her mind the moment Merrill stuck her head out of the water.

“So mermaids are real, huh?”

Merrill smiles. “Still in disbelief? That makes sense. Like I said, we’re quite reserved. We’ve been hiding for thousands of years, right under you humans’ noses. We’ve seen what your kind can do when you discover something strange or different. Besides, for a long time there was never really much reason for our paths to cross, us living in the ocean and you all living on land.”

Isabela narrows her eyes. “Then why did you save Varric? Why are you even talking to me?”

“We save sailors every once in a while,” Merrill explains. “They’re usually unconscious by that time anyway, or they think whatever they saw or felt was a trick of the mind, especially when they’re alone. As for why I’m talking to you…” She drums her fingers thoughtfully against the wet sand. “You seemed...different. I saw the way you’d sit out here for hours, just staring at the sea. I could tell you longed for it. You reminded me of...well, of a mermaid. You belong to the ocean, just like we do.”

Isabela’s mouth curls into a soft smile. “I suppose you’re right, Merrill,” she says, staring dreamily into the distance. “I suppose you’re right.”

After a short pause, Merrill adds, “Your looks didn’t hurt, either.”

That snaps her back immediately, and when she glances back over at the seemingly innocent sea maiden, Isabela notices a playful glint in her wide green eyes.

The smile on her face shifts into a delighted smirk. Two can play at that game. “Tell me, kitten,” she says, the nickname springing to her lips and sounding perfect as soon as it leaves her mouth, “how would one go about pleasuring a mermaid?”

#dragon age 2 #merrill #isabela #merribela #merribelaweek #da2 #my fics

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