If any of you have played Dragon Age then you know who Merril is, yes? Good. And, since this is in the crossover section, I take it you all know about Naruto and such, correct? Great. This, is a what if story based upon what might happen when Merrill first attempted blood magic. Of course, what with Blood Magic being so, well, bloody, the effects and consequences are rather hard to discern. What if she screwed up the ritual? What if she summoned something else all together?

Also, I advise you to have played Dragon Age II to understand where I'm coming from here. But hey, if you still want to read an EPIC story full of humor, fluff, guts, and gore, then, by all means, read on.

Shards

Merril was about to summon a demon.

She'd made all the necessary preparations. She'd drawn the circle, invoked the rite, cleared the are of all inhabitants, thusly creating a secluded place for the ritual. Now came the part she dreaded the most; because all that remained, was the blood. Tenderly, tenderly she touched the tip of a knife to her forearm. Silently, she shuddered as the edge of steel opened her flesh and fountained forth crimson.

She let the blood flow, seeping through her skin as it trickled into her palm. There was pain there, pain, as it broke through the skin, as it unblocked channels of power she'd stopped up long ago. She was powerful now. Powerful and dread. She took this power and focused it into the blood, fusing it with her magic, welding the two together until they became one. Then, and only then, did she approach the altar.

With a slow and practiced gait, Merrill approached the chalk circle she had drawn in the dirt with chalk. Upon closer inspection it really resembled more of a pentagram than an actual circle she mused , not at all unlike those that the Dales and their wayward ways. She let the blood coalesce slicking the fingers of her left hand as she laid it down upon the massive stone idol that had purportedly bound the creature for so long; the creature that had been calling out to her in her dreams.

The effect was as catastrophic as it was explosive.

Light rippled outward from the idol; because the idol was cracking. Fine, hairline fractures, each spreading outward one by one, until at last, the idol itself was bathed in a light so intense, so mind numbingly bright, that the elf was forced to close her eyes against it for a moment. Just a moment, while the light dimmed. Then she opened them, seeing it for the first time, realizing that she was not at all alone as she'd thought herself to be.

"Ah...so this is the air of the mortal realm."

Merril gawped up at it; because at some point, the explosion had knocked her onto her laurels. Rubbing her sore rump, she peered into the debris-filled haze and wondered as she sought it; desperately seeking whatever entity she had summoned. A pair of baleful red eyes, twin pinpricks of crimson in the darkness, regarded her as prey. Something swept through the smoke, banishing it to the Beyond as an ancient oath reached her ears.

Creators but this demon was strange.

Unlike the hulking apparirtion that was pride, lacking the distinctive slouch that belonged to the creatures of sloth, he was strange. Even for a demon. His eyes did not burn as those of the Rage demons did, nor did his prescence convey even the slightest vestige of allure, nor emotion as those of the Desire often did. Tall, humanoid in form, its stood within the circle with which it had been summoned, blinking the sparks away from its eyes, and frowned.

He was a handsome fellow, if intense. His blond hair was disheveled, his blue eyes intelligent, his features balanced. Whisker marks tripled each cheek, cheeks that had once dimpled with a constantly bright and enthused grin; no matter the situation or mission. Now, he was intense. His face was hardened, his visage freed of the baby fat that had plagued him in his younger years. Chiseled and nigh but expressionless, that face bore an eerie series of markings, deep, crimson lines running from righ ear to left, drooping down his chin and neck and lips, curling toward his forehead, pursed now in a scowl with the tattoos as he flung a hand forward, two fingers jutting prominently outward from within the sleeves of his his flaming cloak

Then it noticed her; sprawled at its feet like a tasty apple, ripe for the picking.

It laughed.

"An elf?" It mused softly, with a voice like liquid, and a smile as craggy as the peaks of Sundermount. "Hmm." It sniffed the air, scenting it. "Ah. I am among the Dales, then, after all. I had not dreamed to see this place with my own eyes again, and yet, here I am." It made as if to take a step forward, only to find that it could not. The circle would suffer no trespass, and his body shimmered as he dared to brook such an offense.

Hastily, it retracted the limb, solidifying upon contact.

"What sorcery is this?" It whispered, casting its gaze about in sudden dismay. "Why is it that am I confined?"

Then it saw the circle.

Then it saw Merrill, truly saw her,and its expression darkened; its mind coming to the inevitable conclusion that its body was no longer its own. Fury swept through the demon and for a moment, it contorted into something hideous. Abruptly, it faded, the stom brewing just beyond the veil of its vision as it turned, regarding her with eyes full of sheer disbelief, and a smattering of scorn. A dash of dismay, too, perhaps? It wouldn't be the first time someone was dissapointed in me, she thought idly. And it probably won't be the last if the clan has anything to say about it...

But this was different.

Beneath that gaze of grey and granite, Merrill felt small. It was as if she were eight years old again, squirming beneath the Keerper and her dissapointed frown, which was a terrible terrible expression capable of turning your very bones to jelly. This feeling was similair to that; because as she had wriggled and squirmed back then, so too, did she now as the demon loomed over her.

"Why have you contracted me, mortal?" He spoke; and his voice was deep like the river, harsh like the thunder, and deadly with the flame. "Be quick in your answerment, lest I smite you where you stand!"

Consumed by hysterics, Merril squeaked in disbelief.

A demon!

She'd actually summoned one! For real! She hadn't thought it to be possible, but clearly, it was. Looming over her like a mighty storm, eyes crackling with raw lightning, those eyes, the spirit's gaze, bored into the very depths of her soul and lodged itself there forevermore, setting into motion a whirlwind of events that Merrill could not even begin to guess at, not now, and certainly not later.

"Answer me, wench!" the creature thundered. "Why have you reached out to me from across the fade and brought me to this place? Why have you bound me to this circle and prevented me from seeking out my kin!" It raised a hand, as if to make good on the intention to "smite" but paused, waiting instead for Merrill to reply. When there was no immediate smiting, she gathered her courage and pulled herself to her feet.

"I have a name, you know."

The demon paused, intrigued by her matter-of-fact approach to the possibility of possession.

"Do you now, wench?" It asked, biting off every word. "And what might that be?"

"Why, Merrill, of course." she blinked owlishly. That was her name after all. What else would it be? Merrill pondered to herself before electing to shrug off the thought, chalking it up to the demon's peculiarities. He was very unlike all the other spirits she'd ever seen or heard about, but he was being very good, so she trusted that he had to be doing it correctly. Leave it to the experts, and all that.

"Merrill?"

The demon smiled; it was a devious, charming grin.

There was something incredible and irresistably dangerous about that smile. Intoxicating, even. She knew not what kind of demon this was, but the smile was enough to bring her defenses to bear upon it once more. She still didn't know what kind of demon this was, and as such she refused to relax around it. If it was indeed a creature of sloth then she couldn't risk it, most of all. Still, he was being awfully nice...for a demon, that is.

"Well then, its a pleasure to meet you, Merill." The demi-blond bowed, sweeping one arm to his chest, bending deep and low at the waist. "But really, where are my manners, I'm being so rude, aren't I? I've been in the Fade for so long I'd nearly forgotten how to manifest myself, let alone carry on a civil conversation." He straightened woodenly as he spoke, not taking enough care as the fire-cloak billowed around him.

"Now," He began, "I-

"Don't you have one?" Merrill found herself asking, rather, interrupting.

"I beg your pardon?" The demon asked, indignant. "Don't I have a...what?"

"You must have one." She answered quizically. "Everyone I know has at least one. Maybe two."

"May the blight take you, what do you speak of!" The demon snapped back, though it would soon prove to be unprepared for the simplicity of the answer.

"I'm talking about a name."

The fury in its eyes turned to pity, then something else; something she couldn't discern. The demon lowered its arm and contemplated her question for a moment. The barrier that bound him spat and fizzled absentmindedly between them as the pariah awaited his reply. At length, he raised his gaze, those smoldering orbs of souless scarlet seeking her deep, earth green, leaving her dazzled and captivated.

"A name?" He asked, his voice deadly soft. "You believe that I...have a name?"

"Everything does." Merrill pointedly adressed the fact. "Well, maybe not everything, there might be some...oh, I'm rambling again, aren't I? I do that when I get nervous, I'm so sorry!"

The demon laughed; it was a deep throaty sound.

"You ask for a creature of chaos to give you its name?" His expression turned wistful. "My...name." He mused silently for a few moments, stroking his chin with a foreFinger as he pondered her question. "I...yes." His brow furrowed with thought. "It has been so long, I had all but forgotten it. The pieces, they are still there, but they are...fragments now. Perhaps it has been too long in time for me to remember my title...ah."

His eyes brightened with the dawning of a realization, punctuated by a joy so boundless that Merrill found herself at a loss for words. For a moment, he almost seemed human -as human as a demon with human form could appear-then it was gone; snatched away by a sadness so profound that it blotted out everything else. What travesty had dulled his capacity for kindness so, she wondered? Or was this too, an attempt of the demon to gain possession of her body?

She couldn't be quite sure.

"Na...ruto?" He half-said, half-asked, tentatively rolling the name around on his tongue, tasting it, sounding out every syllable until he seemed satisfied with the answer. "Yes, that was my name, once. But that was a long time ago." His eyes darkened and he folded his arms; he would brook no further discussion on the matter, Merrill realized. And it was not without a bit of sorrow on her part that she moved on to the matter of hand, the meaning to which she'd summoned this enigmatic demon to begin with.

"Can you purify this?" Merril dipped an arm into her satchel, feeling around for something scattered among the various poultices and other elven items until finally, her fingers closed around what she sought. She returned with a small, transparent shard, of sorts. It glittered as it captured the sun's rays, casting a myriad of mirages against the moss and the rocks; spewing a rainbow of infinitismal colors upon the peaks of Sundermount.

The demon inhaled sharply.

His eyes grew wide and large, his very being thrumming with barely contained power.

"Tell me, elf, how did you happen upon that shard?"

"Merrill."

"What?"

"My name is not, elf. It's Merill." Merrill countered, slightly cross by the creature's brief refusal to use her name. "I'll call you by your name unless of course you don't want me to, then I won't." She paused for breath at last, the rest of her words having emerged as little more than a scattered rush of nouns and verbs. The demon said nothing for the longest time; then he inclined his head a fraction of an inch, the smallest of smiles playing across his lips.

"You may."

Merrill blinked.

"Really? You're sure that's alright? Sometimes I accidentally call people the wrong thing and-

"Merrill," Naruto hissed, his patience reaching the breaking point, "That sounds very...interesting, but I would very much like to know how you came to acquire that shard." In the time that it took him to inhale and exhale ten times-rather lengthy, for a creature of his stature-Merrill had explained to him the story of how the Eluvian had first come to be, how it had been discovered, and the tragedy that had forced her clan to uproot themselves afterward.

"So you mean to tell me that Mahariel, the Hero of Ferelden, came from the Dales themselves?" The demi-god quirked an eyebrow. "And from your clan no less? My, but that is quite the tale, elf-ah, I mean Merrill. You do know that he yet lives, I trust?" The disbelief and astoundment with which she protested told him she had not. No matter. The Warden was gone; because not a soul yet knew to where he and his allies had fled.

"Enough!" He barked, when her protestations grew louder. "I will grant one request of you, and one only! I will either tell you where the Warden is, and you can seek him out for yourself, or I will help you with your task! Now, choose, or begone!" He folded his arms before his chest and relented only when Merrill weakly proffered the shard forward for him to inspect.

"You wish for me to purify it?" The spectre blinked, nonplussed by her request. "That is all?"

"Y-Yes!"

"I take it you know what is required, then."

"Not really, no." Merrill relented.

Naruto sighed.

"You're new at this blood magic thing, aren't you?"

"Is it that obvious?"

"Absolutely." Naruto said. "Now, enfuse the shard with your blood."

Merill allowed a few droplets of blood to spill upon the shard of the Eluvian.

"Good." Naruto ammended. "Now, give me the shard."

"How can I know you'll give it back?"

Naruto sweatdropped.

"Oh, very well." The demon beckoned for the piece of the Eluvian. "Give it to me and I shall cleanse it of its taint. You have my word. However! I would have you give me your word that you will not speak to any of my kin about this. Also! In order to reconstruct the Eluvian, more than purification is required. It requires...a certain...energy." Here, he droned off, his eyes growing dim, hazy, almost vacant.

"I will tell you no more." Naruto stated suddenly. "Not unless you remove me from these bindings."

"Creators, no!" Merill cried! "If I do that you'll try to possess me!"

Naruto snorted.

"Hardly. I merely ask that you remove my shackles so that I might be able to move freely about this room as I please. I have no desire to claim the body of an elf as my own, beautiful creature though you are. It would be such a shame, both on my part and your own, were you to become an abomination." He smiled again, and that smile was near and dear to heart and suddenly so...so...tempting.

He thinks I'm beautiful.

'No,' She chastised herself. 'He's a demon! I cannot allow myself to think such things!'

"Take your time and think on it." Naruto offered, still smiling. "You will know where to find me, in your dreams, and, in the Fade." With these words, he began to shimmer. First at the feet, then the knees, and suddenly, he had vanished, dissolving into thin air before she could question him further. All that remained of the Chaos demon was the chalk circle in which he had first been bound.

Then that too, was gone.

Before she could protest further, he was gone.

Leaving a very confused Merill to try and understand what had just happened.

A/N: Poor Merrill. She has no idea what she's getting into. Then again, most people don't, when Naruto is involved. Like I said, you NEED to play Dragon Age and watch Naruto to understand the complexity of this story. Otherwise, enjoy, and feel free to drop me a line with questions, and, of course, review! Oh, and I nearly forgot...

...MERRILL IS AWSUM!