“Oh, this is the Alienage?' Merrill said, staring around at the square when they arrived. Her eyes were very large and they lingered on the muddy streets and the patched clothes of the residents. “This is where the elves live?”
“You're the one who wanted to come here,” Anders pointed out, folding his arms.
“I've never been somewhere with so many people,” she said, looking around. “It seems—lonely.”
“Oh no, it's nothing like that!” Sigrun assured her. “Maybe they'll take some getting used to you, but people around here are alright.”
“Anyway, you know all of us already,” Abigail told her. “I'm sure you'll be making more friends soon.”
“Just watch your back,” Nathaniel advised. "This isn't always the safest place.
“Oh, believe me, I will,” Merrill said.
"Where in Kirkwall is safe, anyway?" Anders asked Nathaniel, who considered that thoughtfully.
“Come on,” Sigrun said. “Why don't we get you settled in? We can introduce you to Hahren Josiah and our neighbors.” Sigrun, Velanna and Merrill went to their house, while Anders and Nathaniel decided to go back to Darktown.
“You're sure you'll be alright there?” Abigail asked, her expression dubious. “It’s not very safe at all.”
“But what's life without a little risk?” Anders said with a slight smile.
“A lot longer, statistically speaking,” Nathaniel sighed.
“We can talk about it later,” Anders said. His eyes caught the light, gleaming faintly blue for a moment. The two of them left, leaving Bethany, Abigail and Varric alone. They walked towards Lowtown, some of the Alienage elves glancing curiously at them as they left.
“So,” Abigail said, turning to Varric. “Do you know of any other jobs for us?”
Varric gave a heavy sigh. “I've been looking,” he said. “There's a couple possible ones—a captain whose ship got sunk might have something for us. At this point, I'd even suggest the Qunari.”
“The Qunari. Really.” Abigail folded her arms.
Varric spread his hands. “We're running out of time and options,” he said. “Two other expeditions have already gone. You might wanna talk to Athenril.”
Bethany groaned. “I can't stand that woman,” she said.
“Athenril isn't so bad,” Abigail said.
Bethany frowned at her and folded her arms. “She liked you,” she muttered. “Carver and I not so much.”
“Look—come by tomorrow, and I'll see if that ship captain has anything for you,” Varric said.
Velanna and Sigrun helped to get Merrill settled in the house. They put Merrill up in the back room (Velanna moving aside several potted plants to free some space), and Merrill set about making herself comfortable.
“Did your Clan fight in the Blight?” Merrill asked Velanna.
Velanna nodded as she reorganized her plants into a better position. “We did.”
“A Wandering Keeper came to ask us if we would,” Merrill said, carefully putting her mysterious locked box on top of a nearby counter. “But Marethari didn't want to. Some of the others did, but she wanted to come here, away from the fighting.”
“I’d thought that Clan Sabrae allied with the Wardens,” Velanna said, her lips pursed. “I could have sworn that I had heard that...”
Merrill shook her head. “A Warden came to see us,” she said. “But he left.”
Sigrun came into the room. “Come on,” Sigrun said. “Why don’t we take you to the market? Show you around. It doesn’t do to be in this stuffy house all day.”
“It is not stuffy,” Velanna huffed, but agreed, and they both lead Merrill out of the house and to market.
The market was a collection of stalls around the Vhenadahl. Most merchants didn’t go near the Alienage, so the Alienage had developed their own merchants of a sort. There were local sellers as well as a few peddlers visiting from other Alienages.
Merrill was fascinated by all of it. There was a woman who sold only fruit pies, and a woman selling wines, a man with little wooden carvings—she loved it, and delighted in flitting from stall to stall and asking the proprietors questions.
“Velanna, Sigrun!” an elderly elvhen man came hobbling over to them, leaning heavily on his stick. His long silver hair was gathered in a severe braid that accentuated his sharp face. “I didn’t know you’d come back.”
“Hahren Josiah!” Sigrun smiled. “Yeah, we just got back a little while ago.”
“Savhalla, Hahren,” Velanna said, inclining her head.
“Good to see both of you got back in one piece.” He looked at Merrill, who was busily inspecting a bunch of radishes. “Who’s this young lady?”
“This is Merrill,” Sigrun said, patting Merrill on the shoulder. “She’s going to be staying with us for a bit. Merrill, this is Hahren Josiah. He’s in charge.”
“Well, for a given measure of ‘in charge,’ anyway,” Josiah grumbled.
“Ander’an atish’an,” Merrill said, putting down the radishes and inclining her head respectfully.
“Nice to meet you,” Josiah said. His eyes traced her vallaslin. “You’d be Dalish, like Velanna here?”
Merrill nodded.
Josiah hummed. “Arianni’s Dalish, too—your Clan kick you out? Heard they do that sometimes.”
“What?” Merrill squeaked. “No!”
“Oh. Well, why are you here, then?”
“We...” Merrill looked away. “Disagreed. The Keeper and I.”
“So they did kick you out.”
“Hahren,” Velanna snapped.
Josiah raised his hands. “Alright, alright,” he acquiesced. “Well, young lady, I hope you like it here. Don’t cause any trouble, you understand?”
“Of course not, Hahren,” Merrill gave him a nervous smile.
“Good. Now, Velanna, David and Heynel still need that cough medicine—you wouldn’t happen to know any herbcraft, would you?” he asked Merrill.
“Oh!” Merrill jumped, startled at being addressed. “Um—a little,” she said.
“Lovely, lovely. Could always use someone else who knows that. Anyway, Heynel went out in the bloody rain again, and he’s still coughing,” Josiah rolled his eyes. “So if you could get him some of your syrup, Velanna, that’d be dandy.”
“Oh, curse Heynel,” Velanna shook her head. “I told David to keep an eye on that idiot husband of his...” she rubbed her temples. “Yes, Hahren, I’ll see what I can do, but if it turns into pneumonia, tell Heynel to get his worthless hide down to the Darktown healer—my potions aren’t much good against fluid in his lungs.”
“The healer’s back?” one of the women at the stalls who had been listening to their conversation butted in.
“Oh, yes,” Sigrun nodded. “He got back a little while ago, same as us. He should be getting back to work soon.”
“Oh, good,” the woman, middle-aged with iron-streaked auburn hair, gave a sigh of relief. “My Zicra broke her leg, and I’m worried I’ve not set it properly.” she looked at Velanna. “I’d have asked you, Velanna, but you were away.”
“Bone-setting isn’t my strong suit, anyway,” Velanna grumbled. “You’d be better off taking that daughter of yours to the healer.”
“Oh dear,” Merrill said, sympathetic. “Maybe—maybe I could look at it?” she suggested. “I know some bone-setting—if you want, that is, I mean, if you don’t want me to, I won’t...” she looked away.
“You do?” the woman exclaimed. “Oh, that’d be just wonderful! Oh, where are my manners? I’m Rachel, Rachel Josran. You’re Merrill?”
Merrill nodded. “Yes. I know some medicine—my potions are no good,” she chuckled. “But I can do injuries well enough. And I can definitely tell you if you set it right or not.”
Rachel beamed. “Oh, well, young lady, why don’t you come right away? I can get my son to watch the stall for a bit. Abraham!” she called to a gangly elvhen youth who was chatting with a few friends. “Watch the stall, would you?”
Abraham came over, looking sulky. “Yes, Ma,” he mumbled.
“Good. Now, I’ll be back in a little bit—watch it carefully, understand? You go off with your friends and I won’t be happy.”
Abraham sighed and leaned his elbows on the stall. “Yes, Ma,” he repeated, rolling his eyes.
“Wonderful! Now, young lady, come along—I’ll show you the way.”
To Merrill’s surprise, Rachel looped her arm in hers, and tugged her towards the tenements. Sigrun giggled and covered her mouth, and waved as she left.
“Well, she looks like she’s doing just fine,” Sigrun said.
“Who’s that?” Abraham asked. “She was pretty.”
“Too old for you, da’len,” Velanna said curtly, rapping Abraham on top of his head with her knuckles.
“Ow! Velanna! I just said she was pretty!” Abraham rubbed his head.
“Hmph,” Velanna folded her arms.
“You worry too much, ibine,” Sigrun said, putting her arm around Velanna’s waist. “She’ll be just fine, you’ll see.”