On Merrill's Rivalmance
I often hear people argue that rivalry is the sensible path to take with Merrill, that it’s irresponsible to blindly support her as she makes decisions she barely understands, that a Hawke who cares about Merrill would not stand idle and watch her bear the consequences she didn’t know were there.
Pol didn’t die because of Merrill’s blood magic. Pol died because he was scared that Merrill carried the taint; a lie that was spread by keeper Marethari.
Keeper Marethari didn’t die because of Merrill’s blood magic. Keeper Marethari died because she refused to give Merrill a chance. A choice she alone made.
Merrill’s clan, if killed, didn’t die because of Merrill’s blood magic. They died because they refused to believe her, accused her for something Marethari alone did without informing anyone, and attacked her, forcing her to defend herself.
“Fear makes men more dangerous than magic ever could.” She said before the final battle, having experienced the truth of it firsthand.
Merrill’s blood magic never hurt nor threatened anyone, where prejudice killed an entire clan.
Merrill endured a lifetime of blame and hatred. Even the visions of her dead friends taunted and blamed her. Where she had hoped to make new friends, people called her a foolish child and repeatedly tried to dissuade her from her path that she had been forced to walk alone, a choice she made so as to never bring harm to anyone.
Her eagerness to act, the sacrifices she took for the mirror, her alacrity to do anything that was needed to fix the eluvian, was often mistaken for ignorance. For foolishness. People often told her she did not know what she was getting into, which was why she acted with no reservation. Except…
“If things go wrong, if (the demon) possesses me, I need you to strike me down.” She said, fully aware of the risk.
Merrill had always known the cost of the the burden she chose to carry for the sake of her people, who had done nothing but make her feel unloved.
Her eagerness to do the things she did, so selflessly like it was nothing, was not because she was ignorant to the consequences. It was because even if there was the slightest chance, she had to take it, for the people she valued above herself, even if it meant them hating her, even if it meant everyone she cared about renouncing her, because her eyes were fixed on something she believed was bigger than herself.
Merrill, after having lived an entire life with no human experience, was made to live among them, and they made no effort to accommodate her.
Merrill was called a monster and an idiot.
Merrill, who used to wander forests; trees and flowers of all kinds growing as far as her eyes could see, for her to enjoy as she pleased, was thrust into a world were gardens were a luxury restricted to the privileged, and they laughed at her naivety as they explained to her that she was not allowed to pick flowers in people’s private gardens.
Merrill, who lived an outcast among her people and an apostate among humans, was never made to feel at home.
What Merrill lived through, what she had been told, how she had been made to feel, was enough to make anyone lose heart, to doubt themselves and wonder if they were truly a monster who needed to be stopped, to be laden with enough regret to weigh them down and drag them to the bottom and into a dark place, but does she succumb to it? When the whole world blamed her, did she take it?
Let’s compare Merrill’s words after A New Path, presumably after her clan had been killed, in both the friendship and rivalry versions.
“Why didn’t any of them listen to me? All this time, I thought… I could help them. Save them. But they chose to destroy themselves in order to escape my help.”
The sight of her dead clan, along with whom she had once considered a mother figure, would be enough to bring down anyone, no matter how strong. Yet she stood by her cause, supported by Hawke who had been there with her through every step of this difficult path.
“There was nothing you could’ve done.”
“No, I know that. Maybe it’s time I stopped living for them.”
What I also love is that there is the dialogue option for Hawke to tell her “Fear did more damage to your clan than blood magic ever could.” and I like to think that when Merrill echoed those words before the final battle, she thought of Hawke as she tried to make people see who the true villain was, just as Hawke did to her at her most vulnerable moments.
Now let’s take a look at the rivalry version.
“Willfull, stubborn idiot. All of this is my fault. I’ve… I’ve done everything wrong.”
She takes the blame for a crime she didn’t commit. She hates herself for things that she isn’t. She punishes herself for only doing good. All the words, all the insults, that she once rightfully dismissed, are now sinking in deep.
They were right all along and she was oh, so very wrong, she now believes. She thinks she is a monster, an idiot.
This is abuse. I have no other word to describe what the rivalry path does to Merrill, romance or not.
To rivalmance Merrill is to overlook everything about her character, everything that makes her so wonderful.
Because Merrill, who never preyed on anyone’s emotions while they were hurting, as they always liked to do to her, is not immature.
Merrill, the only one who argued to spare Anders because she was willing to see reason where others could only listen to their rage, is not a child.
Merrill, who told a romanced Isabela she wasn’t surprised anyone would love her, where others said that sleeping with her was only ‘expected’, is not blind or ignorant.
Merrill is a strong, beautiful, and brave character, who deserves the world, but gets so little of it.
And romancing her on a friendship path is not unrealistic, complacent, or irreponsible. Hawke is not her parent. They are not there to scold her and decide what they think is right for her, not having lived her life or known what she had gone through and her reasons to do what she does.
But Hawke can be a hand that holds hers and a place to call home. They can be what reminds them that there is still good experiences in the world for her to be had, that there is love to be felt, that she did not have to give up all joy in favour of finishing her task, that she can have both, that she is worthy of being loved, and respected enough to be given the right to make her own decisions, where she had lived a life of others insisting they knew what was best for her.
And she deserves that much.
Hawke, of all people, would know what it feels like to be blamed for things that were out of their hands. They would know what it meant to carry regrets instilled in them by people whom they called family, but could never understand them.
Hawke and Merrill could heal together. They could recover and learn to be kinder to themselves.
Or they could carry their shame and their guilt and live a life of trying to make amends.
That anyone could prefer the latter is beyond me.
