send me a ✿ and i’ll generate a number.13. Hand Kiss
Inara was not quite certain what possessed the young Dalish elf to be so terribly sweet to her all of the time even when she was only lukewarm to her in response, why she came every day without fail to that dingy tavern room to bring her new flowers to set on her dresser, where, given the Taint in her and the stench of the bar, they would only wither and die by the time that she came carrying that next bundle.
Perhaps it was the fact that they were both refugees of the past, hiding in the muck of Lowtown because they had no where else to go, because everyone they had ever known did not wish or could not see them again. Perhaps it was the Taint in her blood, the blackness that she shared with that mirror that Merrill fawned over, labored over in the night. Perhaps it was her interest in the stories that Inara had to tell, the danger and the Blight and the life Merrill's clanmates could have known if only it had been them saved by Duncan.
But whatever it was, whatever intentions the Dalish had, Inara was not exactly in a position to be turning away friends. And so, when it came time for her to choose an escort to that ball in Hightown, when she had to shoulder the weight of being known once more and strap on those Warden blues, it was Merrill that she took on her arm, allowed her to be fitted for a dress that made her blush and swoon and fitted for it at her expense, bought her pretty jewels that hung around her neck and wrists and shone just as brightly as her eyes as she stared at them.
"You look lovely," Inara told her when she turned, met her in the doorway with a smile curling her lips, a fair blush settled on her cheeks. "How do you feel?"
"Strange," she answered, fidgeting, brushing her fingers over the strange fabric of that dress, shivering at the way the silk felt against her skin. "Are you sure this is alright? Are you certain--"
"You'll be fine," Inara answered with a smile, her fingers capturing the elf's thin, soft hands. Merrill's eyes glittered when Inara bowed her head, pressing her lips to the back of Merrill's hand, and Inara smiled at the sight. "Just don't use blood magic at the dinner table."
"Okay," the elf answered.
Inara laughed, but her stomach fluttered with nervousness when she saw the fear in Merrill's eyes.
