Violet

(Merrill)

Everything in this city is gray. The sky, the stone, the drawn faces of the elves in the Alienage. So when she sees the bright pile of remnants at the dressmaker's stall her eyes pop, greedily gobblin gup all the colors she can see.

"You can't be here now—they see an elf looking at the wares, the human ladies won't buy them." Hisses the elf attending the stall. At Merrill's stuttered apology, her eyes soften. "Come back when we're getting read to close shop—I can probably convince the owner to sell you the scraps for cheap."

And cheap to a woman running a business is different than cheap to a (mostly) unemployed Dalish girl, but even so she manages to get a piece large enough for the small window in her hovel.

The violet shadows they cast on the gray corners make the coin worthwhile.