Post by Deleted on Jul 10, 2012 17:30:22 GMT
It didn't make any sense, like a mosaic had been presented in front of her eyes of the original Fenris. Merrill wanted to ask, but she knew it would only make him angrier so those words remained behind her pursed lips. Hawke was becoming their every reason to even communicate, but somehow it felt like a half-truth and what was behind that excuse, she wasn't sure. Talking to him felt like half the battle, the other half interpreting his reactions. Even Audacity hadn't been so difficult... but then again it had been a demon, she thought to herself wryly.[/font][/color]
A few people stopped to look at the curious pair, not that it was unusual to see two elves together but the female was waddling so far behind the swordsman could've been mistaken for a mother duck - needless to say he would have been even unhappier about the analogy.
The dark-haired elf watched Fenris open the door, which had been unlocked. She frowned, it was very unlikely he had the key. Someone could attack at any moment given the chance. Yes, she would be gone by daylight but the state of the manor he currently stayed in would keep her from a peaceful sleep. Again, her body was overcome by a wave of sadness. How was this much different from staying in the alienage? There were more items and space, but the lackluster feeling of a temporary shelter reminded them that no, it wasn't really a home. She assumed it would be better for the foyer to look unkempt, at least closer to the door so no one would think someone actually lived there. There was no reason not to help him, after all. Even if the man wouldn't say it himself, Merrill thought he deserved a place to look forward to. Didn't everyone?
She knew him, and though they didn't get along she liked him. That was enough.
As Fenris went upstairs, her emerald orbs kept tabs on him until she was sure he was out of hearing range. The small elf eagerly started to rummage through what had been left behind and destroyed when they had broken in. Clumsy fingertips traced over ripped pages, broken glass, and shards of wood. She remembered that day clearly, Merrill had been too scared to actually speak as the former slave shouted for his master. There had been a fire in his eyes, and as angry as he'd looked she felt like that was when he was most alive. Hunting. She admired him then, looking up at his profile the girl was so very small and fleshy in comparison.
Once long ago Aveline had called her the most human elf she'd ever met. Did that mean this warmth within her chest, to desire happiness for herself and others, it was a burden? Merrill wasn't sure.
Nearly thirty minutes had passed since the mage had started her search, when she came upon a ragged piece of embroidered cloth. It wasn't a tool for cleaning, but she had to make use of what they had there. Step by step, she went over the railings and tables. The rag went over the windowsills and scraped dried blood off the floor, or was it wine? Merrill left the books and other documents she deemed important for Fenris where they were, Creators knew what would happen if she tried to touch them. Even so, she had made a pile in the corner of broken items and miscellaneous trash, making a little pile of small knick-knacks and treasures Merrill came across for the other elf to sell or keep as he wished. The rooms she came across became a little more organized, he would no longer have to step over things to get where he wanted to.
Before Merrill knew it, she had been in most of the downstairs rooms and had picked up the majority of the garbage. She began to pick through the pantry for food that might still be edible, tossing the items that were no good. By then her tiny hands were bleeding and swollen from scrubbing, but the blood mage didn't pay much attention to it as she gathered a few slices of stale bread and jam with a light coat of dust over the bottle. The food had been placed on the nicest plate she could find, one with a huge crack down the middle decorated with gold leaf. For silverware Merrill grabbed a silver butter-knife with the family crest engraved upon it, then made her way upstairs.
A couple hours had passed since Fenris went upstairs, where he stayed for the majority of the time. Perhaps he found comfort there. Not one to interrupt, Merrill's knuckles met the door a couple times before she decided to enter quietly. Aside from the plate of food, she still kept the rag she'd originally found tucked away and held a broom in her free hand. The mage's eyes flickered across the room, hesitant. What if he got mad at her for doing this? Or that it was some kind of trap?
"I, um... F-Fenris..? I hope you don't mind... I brought you some food, if you're hungry..."