It looked to be another sleepless night for Merrill, walking along the starboard of Isabela's brand new vessel. It was a fine ship, almost too fine considering the cargo it had previously held under Castillon's command, but Merrill's private quarters were quite accommodating and comfortable. They weren't comfortable enough, however, for no matter how hard she tried, she would not take to slumber. She told herself it was just stress; perfectly natural considering everything she had been through in the weeks prior. She was hoping that after they escaped Kirkwall, she would finally be able to enjoy some peace, but her heart still felt as heavy as the ocean beneath the hull. Deep down she knew the cause of her ache, but naivety led her to believe it would disappear so long as she didn't think on it. And yet here I am, wandering around like a love-struck fool, thinking about nothing else, she mused with a painful smile.

Everyone agreed it would be best for Hawke to leave Kirkwall, at least until the situation with the Templars got under control. He wasn't too happy about leaving the city in such a state, but Aveline assured him she'd stay behind to keep the peace. Varric had the merchants guild to attend to, Fenris needed to reconsider his allegiances, and Anders was...gone. Merrill was the only one with nowhere to go and nothing to do. With the Eluvian destroyed, what did she live for? She couldn't refuse when Hawke asked her to come with him, but wasn't quite sure what it meant. Don't get your hopes up Merrill, he was probably just being nice. I doubt he even remembers that night. Her own thoughts stung her like a sharp icicle. Hawke was the closest friend she had in the world, but that was all he'd ever be. That is of course, next to Isabela.

Things between the pirate and her were perfect, until she had to ruin everything. It was that same night she spent with Hawke at his estate in hightown when she came to Isabela, her face reddened with tears. "I'm such an idiot" she had said, sitting on a bed next to Isabela, "to think a man like him and, and, an elf like me could..."

She couldn't go back to the Alienage, she was too embarrassed to risk facing Hawke again, so she had gone to the best place to nurse one's shame and depression: the Hanged Man."That's it, I'm cutting off his balls!" Isabela exclaimed, after prodding the truth from the heartbroken elf. Merrill giggled as she wiped her eyes dry. "That's my girl, I know you'll recover from this. That's more than I can say for him, however."

"Thank you, Isabela." Her laughter paused when she realized Isabela might not have been joking. "You're not actually going to hurt him though are you? Oh, please don't, I'm just a stupid girl with a stupid crush, it's not his fault."

Isabella hugged her close, "Stupid or not, you'll always be my favourite." She released her grip and took a long look at the frail form of her elf companion; there was mischief in her eyes. "Hawke doesn't know what he's missing."

Isabela was quick to order drinks for her room and continued prying the truth from Merrill's broken heart. Sitting on the bed together, Isabela began to console her with a sympathetic arm on her back.

"It means a lot to me, having someone like you to look out for me."

A long silence prevailed as their eyes met. It seemed for once as though Isabela was having trouble with her words. "You're such a sweet little thing" she slurred, eyeing her from top to bottom, "I just don't think I could bare to see you hurt."

It was there that the impulse took over Merrill. She didn't even think about it, she just sort of leaned forward, and her lips met Isabela's. She could only imagine what was going through the duelist's mind. Their breath rose and filled the silence of the room as they kissed. Whether or not this was Isabela's plan, or if she was just as surprised as Merrill was, she couldn't say. She could barely recall what her own thoughts had been at the time. Her actions seemed almost instinctual, as though she had been swept in a current of passion, with no desire to escape. One moment her tongue had been in Isabela's mouth, the next it was sliding along her neck, and then down to her breasts.

Her hands seemed to have a mind of their own as she watched them undo the string of her bustier to reveal what lay beneath. On the bed their legs intertwined and their arms wrestled each other. It was not before long that Isabela had Merrill on her back. She kissed her again, possibly to distract her attention from the curious hand trespassing below her waist. Merrill stopped her and dug her gaze into Isabela's. Those beautifully hungry eyes stared back at her, impatiently awaiting her admittance. "If you don't want to-" she said, before another kiss cut her off.

"Don't stop," were Merrill's last words that night, as the sounds emanating from her mouth afterwards could barely be considered civilized speech.

Things were never quite the same between them. Of course nothing could change Isabela's sense of humour or unyielding charm, but whenever they were alone together, it was different. Merrill couldn't ignore the feelings that grew inside her, and with each month her longing intensified. But as was par for the course in Merrill's life, the more she wanted something, the more it seemed to elude her. Whenever they were alone together, Isabela became distant, she'd barely even look at Merrill. She's afraid of me, she thought, just like Hawke, she doesn't want to be tied down by some desperate Elvhen. A few years passed and things seemed to return to normal, but every time Merrill tried to confront her about it, she dodged the issue, merely saying "it's best we didn't speak on it."

Hawke was more open about things. Emotions didn't seem to scare him like they did Isabela. "About what happened between us," she remembered his words well, "Whatever you think of me, just know that I do care about you, and that your friendship has been everything I've needed these past few years."

Friendship; it seemed to be the only thing people wanted from Merrill. If only it could be simple, if her heart could just remain content with one love, one heartache, but as she learned on the summit of Sundermount, life was seldom that easy. So here she was, on a boat with the two most significant people in her life, and she couldn't talk to either of them. It seemed like the only time she felt brave enough to compose her feelings into a speech was when she was wandering the deck alone in the dead of night. So as luck would have it, Isabela came storming out of Hawk's cabin to head for the bow. A member of the crew she passed by gave her a courteous "evening captain," to which she sharply replied "Piss off."

Merrill took a deep breath: this was her moment. She would confront Isabela and demand to know why she ignored her, what she did to deserve being shunned this way.

As she approached, she noticed the Riviani woman leaning over the rail, with her head sunk into her hand. She seemed to be shielding her face. "Isabela?" she asked cautiously.

The captain chuckled when she heard her companion's voice. As she turned around, Merrill saw she was crying. "It figures. He's all yours kitten."

"What d'you mean?"

"Hawke, he's still in love with you. Maker, if one of my crew were to see me like this, all touchy-feely. I feel like such a little girl." Merrill's confidence left her, it didn't seem right to corner Isabela as she was, though she couldn't understand what she was speaking about. "We never talked about what happened between us, you know, at the Hanged Man."

"You said it was better not to."

"I get it, you know, I don't need you to explain. You were upset about Hawke, so you found the easiest candidate to shack up with. That's all I am to anyone, a side dish, a detour. I don't blame you, though. I mean, he is the bloody champion; who am I."

"That's not what happened!"

Isabela didn't seem to pay attention. It seemed she had her own speech prepared. "You're better off. You and Hawke, you were meant to be. I'm just, I'm nobody. A selfish slut. I can't even get friendship right."

"Isabela, there's so much I've wanted to say-"

"I slept with Hawke." Merrill's words stopped dead in their tracks. "Years ago, it was before the two of you...you know. Damn it, this whole 'feelings' thing really doesn't suit me. Anyways, we had sex, and I told him we'd keep things casual, but he lead me to believe that there was something...more. I just thought, maybe, he and I, I thought I might've had a chance and...It doesn't matter, I went and fucked it up in the end. I knew all along this whole love thing was more trouble than it's worth."

"Love?" Merrill thought out loud.

She smiled her tears away, "Funny, isn't it? I must've taken a blow to the temple in the Gallows."

"Isabela!" a familiar voice emerged from the cabin. Hawke came rushing to the bow to chase after the woman in question, when he noticed Merrill. His beard was freshly shaven, to Merrill's surprise, and he had forgone his champion armor for his much more comfortable red housecoat.

"I'm sorry, alright," Isabela turned away once more to conceal her emotions once more "I shouldn't have forced myself on you."

The champion shook his head, "don't apologize," he delicately replied.

Merrill looked away in embarrassment; this clearly didn't involve her. "I should let the two of you talk."

"Stay," he stopped her. There was compassion in his voice that she didn't expect. "I think I owe both of you an explanation."

"I get it." Isabela exclaimed, once again trying to amuse away her tears,"You're gay!"

Tilting his head, Hawke only laughed, "Is that what all women say about men who won't bed them?"

"You're too good for us then?" Her tone was colder this time.

Hawke sighed, "You know that's not true." Merrill said nothing, she simply searched his eyes for the answer she had been waiting for. She hadn't spoken to him in days; she wanted so much to know if he was alright, to be there for him, but she figured it was more out of selfish longing than compassion. "I've been thinking a lot these past few weeks about what happened with Anders." The mention of the name seemed to trouble him a great deal. "I've had to make difficult decisions in the past, and I have my share of regrets, but I've never doubted myself more than in that moment. Sometimes I wish there were a clear answer, that there were no mistaking right from wrong, but the real world's not that simple, and sometimes you just have to decide. But try as I might, there is one decision that I cannot make, and it's standing right in front of me."

Isabela turned her head to the side to watch Hawke approach from the corner of her eye. As he drew nearer, Merrill lifted her chin to look up at him, and he returned her gaze. "I don't care about being champion. Lothering, Kirkwall, my family...All I have left is this damned title," his eyes then met Isabela's, "and the two of you. I can't afford to lose either of you, not when I need you the most."

"So what then?" Isabela asked, walking towards him. Merrill suddenly became aware of their close proximity and her heart started racing. She knew what was going to happen before she could comprehend it. "Are we trapped in this stalemate? What are we supposed to do?"

"This time, I leave that to you to decide."

Simultaneously Isabela and Merrill turned their heads to each other, not speaking but understanding all the same. Merrill had her doubts, but just like that night three years ago, she couldn't stop herself. It would only confuse her more to try and say what she felt, she knew she had only to act. Without warning she pulled Isabela towards her from the hip to lock their lips together. Seconds later she reached up and grabbed Hawke by the collar and pulled him into the kiss, and the three of them held each other there. Whatever her doubts were before, Merrill could tell from their fervor that both her captain and her champion consented.

Hawke's arms reached around their backs as he pulled them even closer together. His hand slid up the thin elf's back to clasp the back of her neck as he forced her deeper into the kiss. Her and Hawke shared the Riviani's lips in a silent negotiation between tongues. A harmony of gentle moans and the perpetual struggle for air amidst their mutual engulfment rose quietly over the soft slapping of the waves on the hull. When elf and man joined their lips together, their third participant began to kiss at the edge of Merrill's ear. She released her lips to aspirate, and the champion proceeded to remove her green scarf, baring her delicate neck to his mouth.

Her reverie was interrupted when her eyes slid open to see another crew member along the port of the ship. She pulled away and her two Human companions looked to her, waiting for her command. Without a word, she smiled deviously and took them both by the hand, leading them to her quarters. It was only on her way that she realized she had the smallest bed of the three of them. It was too late to turn back; she had started this, and it was up to her to finish it. Isabella and Hawke followed, shooting each other sideways glances, grinning to each other the same way they would before a battle.

They reached her bedroom. It was a cramped space they gave her, but Merrill insisted they not fuss over her too much when they boarded. She was used to tiny rooms, and it was generous enough to not have to sleep in bunks with the rest of the crew down below. Isabela leaned against a wall to watch as Merrill wordlessly ushered Hawke to the bed. She undid the belt of his finery robe and looked for a tidy spot to leave it. She had no coat hangars, and many of her clothes had already been piled in a heap under a desk. She paused as she removed his robe, not sure what to do with it, when she looked over and saw Isabela, leaning against the wall, her chest heaving with deep breaths as she stroked her breast. It took one look at the impatient pirate to realize she was worrying about nothing, yet again. She tossed the robe to the side, and to his surprise, shoved the topless man backwards on to the bed. He was grinning hungrily now.

Merrill's bed was stuffed into an awkward corner of the room, where the wall opened up into an even more cramped space. It was surrounded by wall on three sides, and had barely enough room to fit two people. It was certainly comfortable enough for Merrill, and she was fortunate to have gotten an abundance of pillows, which she propped up against the walls for reading (and to keep from bumping her head in her sleep). Squeezing in was going to be interesting, but she heard no complaints from Hawke or Isabela.

Merrill climbed on to the bed on top of him, and their embrace continued. Her hands explored his naked chest as they had on their first night together. It felt gentle and intimate as it had then, but the thought of Isabela watching them from behind excited her. Her night with the pirate was far more extreme than it had been with Hawke, and she was anxious to find out how their temperaments would clash. With their mouths locked, Hawke skilfully slid her green Elvhen robe down her shoulders. She was lucky to forgo wearing her mail underneath this evening, as it would've made the motion a lot more awkward and embarrassing. She rose to sit above him, her cheeks reddening as she continued the work he started by slowly lowering the top of her garment down to her breasts, just partially revealing their supple form. The tease was too much for him, and he rose to pull her close and suckle upon them.

This continued for a moment until they both found themselves sprawled out on their backs, half-naked, waiting for the lover they had not forgotten. Isabela stood against the wall, fondling herself in delight, and began by removing her boots. Baring her long robust legs, she strutted towards them in that careful gait that drove her crewmen mad. As she walked, she slid both her hands up along her thighs to reach at the undergarment beneath her white tunic. Merrill and Hawke eyed her voraciously as a pair of panties slid out from beneath the flaps of the tunic to hang between her knees, all the while keeping their attention close to what remained concealed below her waist. As she crawled on to the bed, her black unmentionables slid off her feet to lie at the edge of the bed, and the three of them began their tumble.

They pulled Isabela closer, and shared a kiss between the three of them, while her hands began to massage Merrill, and lightly pinch her nipples. Next she moved to Hawke, gently first and then aggressively going straight towards his pants. From the sound she made, she clearly was not disappointed with what she found there.

With so much happening at once, it was impossible to tell who was doing what to whom, as they kissed and fondled and wrestled each other on the bed. Eventually Hawke wound up behind Isablea, with his touch inside her. She moaned in delight without interrupting her attention to Merrill's lower lip. She began rocking herself to Hawke's rhythm on top of Merrill, who was sliding the straps of her bustier down to reach the clasp of her bra. When it was released, Merrill's tongue began to play with the round breasts that hung low, clenching and sucking them. Isabela grunted, "Ah, that's my girl," she smiled in rapture. At the same time, Merrill felt Hawke reaching beneath her green robe, which was still hanging around her waist. He slid off her undergarments, along with his own.

First he tasted her, leaning from the edge of the bed. Merrill gasped, but only briefly, for Isabela enjoyed smothering her far too much. When his hunger was sated, he moved his hips into hers, teasing her first, and then entering her fully. Her breath left her mouth with faint melody, but she was still captive to Isabela, who clutched her head deeper into her cleavage. Isabela's panting grew louder as well, for Hawke's fingers had not forgotten her. He leaned forwards, kissing the captain's neck, while thrusting into Merrill below.

This continued for some time, until Hawke decided to shove Isabela off Merrill and on to her back. He moved to her thighs to for a taste of the moisture that awaited him there. This time Merrill was on top, and Isabela lay captive. They kissed, and she stroked her back, until Merrill grabbed her wrists and forced them down on to the bed above her head. She continued to kiss her, while rocking her hips over Isabela's stomach.

Her and Hawke unlaced Isabela's bustier, and after removing it, the three of them were completely nude, save the garment that hung loosely over Merrill's waist.

Isabela forced Hawke against the wall of the bed and pressed her waist over his. He responded by clutching her bosom and forcing himself into her as their tongues danced. Merrill crawled over to the couple sitting against the wall, enjoying the sound of their lovemaking. She placed a hand between the champion's thighs to play with his manhood as it drove into the curvy hips above it. As he and Isabela began to slow their ride, Merrill threw her arms around the other woman, and she and Hawke sandwiched her close between them as they osculated around her neck.

Hawke then pushed both of them back on to the bed and continued fucking Isabela fervidly, while gently kissing the elf beneath her. Isabela's voice rose until she ultimately bellowed a wordless approval, contorting and grabbing Hawke. Merrill reached down to the girl's crotch to find the evidence of her climax. She rolled over, and Hawke was on Merrill next. He took his time with her, and their bodies swayed together each time he moved. It was a dramatic shift from the battle that took place mere minutes ago inside Isabela. The duelist took a few moments to recuperate, while caressing and kissing the side of Merrill, in compliance with Hawke's more 'restrained' example.

She realized then that it really wasn't better or worse than Isabela's approach, just different. She needed this, to be able to look into his eyes and breath in his breathe as they became one. With each kiss she remembered how much she missed having this, but she was also curious about Hawke's other talents. "Harder" she whispered. The pace quickened. "More" she begged again, and her man followed suit. He rose to concentrate all his energy into his hips, and Isabela filled the gap he left behind by moving on to Merrill's torso. Her ecstasy was prominently audible, with Hawke's exertion also rising in volume. He stopped to flip her over and continue from behind, when Isabela had an idea that shone all over the devious grin she wore. She turned upside down and slid beneath Merrill, to get a better view of the action behind her. She started having fun with Merrill's clitoris, rubbing and licking it while Hawke continued to fuck her in a way he never had before. Merrill reciprocated Isabela's actions and moved between her thighs. The three of them became of chorus of sensation, letting their pleasure be heard. When Merrill finally came, Isabela welcomed it like rain in a desert.

Aferwards, the three of them fell atop each other on the bed, breathing heavily, laboured but not worn out. They took a moment's pause to hold and kiss one another, nuzzling and cuddling. "Kitten," Isabela panted, "I'm going to have to start calling you tiger." They giggled.

Once they were ready for more, they continued their waltz. This time they moved faster, rolling and toppling on to one another as they wrestled and necked and fucked. Merrill came a second time riding Hawke while Isabela held him down. There were gentler moments as well, as they spooned each other on the bed with Hawke inside Isabela, the three of them with their arms interlocked.

Finally Isabela watched as her two lovers embraced each other naked on the bed. She climbed on to Hawke and placed a hand between Merrill's legs, but this time she opted to work both of them slowly, taking her time, riding with grace and passion instead of the primal aggression she was infamous for. They both looked up at her, fighting the pleasure that weighed their eyelids shut, and she returned their gaze. She lowered herself and the three of them kissed the way they first had on the bow of her ship, and in that steady embrace, She, Hawke, and Merrill climaxed one final time.

Afterwards she rolled over to Merrill's side so she and Hawke could cuddle the elf between them. Their eyes were fixed to one another, glancing back and forth between lovers while being held in each other's arms.

When Merrill met Isabela's heavy gaze, she finally understood why it was so hard for her to talk about it before. The same loneliness that weighed on her heart also hung on Isabela. She was the cruel one, coming on to her only after being rejected herself; Isabela deserved better.

"Isabela, there's so much I've wanted to say. I'm sorry I-"

Her lover hushed her, "Don't speak on it, my sweet. It's all the past."

"Yes, the future looks much brighter," Hawke jived in, "apart from the world going to war and what not."

"Right, the future. I'm still a little fuzzy on that concept. So what happens now? Are we...what did this mean?" asked the captain. "Who's the wife and who's the mistress?"

"Merrill will be the wife," Hawke smirked, "I'll be the mistress."

"Wait, 'you're not thinking of bringing feelings into this, are you?'" Merrill teased.

"Not fair!"

"Well if you don't like it you can always throw me in the brig."

Isabela grinned, "I think I'm going to have to teach you to show your captain some respect. Hawke, what should we do with this insubordinate?"

He stroked his chin, "Hmm, I'm sure we could brainstorm a few ideas. Say, in your cabin?"

"Ooh I like the sound of that. Well, I would be taking my leave right about now, but it just so happens that I'm quite comfortable, and as captain of the ship I think I'll commandeer this bed as my own."

"Oh really" Hawke flirted back, "Well seeing as you wouldn't have this ship without my help, I think I should also have the same privileges as the captain, and I'm not going anywhere."

As usual, their subtlety was lost on Merrill. "Wait, are you kicking me out of my own room?"

Hawke and Isabela sighed, shaking their heads with amusement.

"No, love," Isabela replied, "you belong with us."