AN: Welcome to my second attempt at writing Dragon Age fanfiction. I did not like the way my first attempt was coming along, therefore I removed it. Fingers crossed the second time's the charm! And before anybody points it out, yes, I know that there is already tons of (f)Hawke/Merrill stuff out there. But they're my absolute favorite pairing and I just wanted to contribute to the pile as I think there should be tons and tons more. Seriously, they are both super duper sweet together. Anyway, hope you enjoy this here tale and please review if you feel so inclined. Constructive criticism is always welcome.
Disclaimer: I do not own the wonderful world of Dragon Age and its characters. All ownership is that of the Great and Mighty Bioware.
"Ten sovereigns says she chickens out again," Varric said, propping his feet up on the table.
"Raise it to twenty and I'm in," responded the Pirate Queen of the Eastern Seas.
"You've got yourself a deal, Rivaini." Varric leaned forward and the pair shook hands.
Anna Hawke looked up from the bottom of her half empty mug, raising a suspicious eyebrow towards the two rogues.
"And just who's miserable life are the two of you betting on this time?" the ebony haired mage asked, tearing her attention away from her drink.
"Why your miserable life, sweet thing," Isabela said cheerily, much to Hawke's annoyment. "Varric here doesn't think you've the balls to confess your undying love to Kitten." Hawke could feel a distinct crimson blush begin to burn in her cheeks.
"Varric!" she hissed across the table, as if worried the petite Dalish girl were right beside her. "I thought that was between the two of us!" Varric raised his hands in mock defense.
"Gotta give the people what they ask for, Hawke." He nodded towards Isabela, who was currently busy chatting up the serving girl as she topped off their drinks.
Hawke sighed bitterly, taking an equally bitter gulp of whatever liquid the waitress had poured into her mug.
"Relax, Hawke," Varric began as Isabela turned to face them again. "It's not like we'd outright tell Daisy how you feel about her. Right, Rivaini?"
"Me? Divulge private information? Never," she said a little too sarcastically for Hawke's liking. "Although, I may have to step in for you if you don't make a move soon," she added quickly before downing a shot. Hawke choked on her drink and began to cough.
"Isabela! You wouldn't!" she sputtered wide eyed and in between coughs as Varric slapped her on the back.
"I might just have to, sweet thing," the bronze skinned pirate said with a mischievous glint in her eyes. "You're both so shy and awkward it's painful to watch. Not to mention sickeningly adorable."
"What do you mean both?" Hawke asked slowly, a funny feeling building in her chest. "Does she-? Do you think-?" She stopped herself, realizing she wasn't making sense and took a deep breath.
"Aww, you're cute when you're confused." Isabela reached forward and pinched Hawke's cheek as she tried to swat her hand away.
"Daisy does sort of worship you, Hawke," Varric finally chimed in. "In fact, I'm willing to bet fifty silvers she's got a tiny shrine to you somewhere in her house. Probably behind that giant mirror."
"Maybe you should go over there and have a look around. Among other things..." Isabela added, arching a suggestive eyebrow. Hawke thought over their words, sipping at her drink. Did the dwarven storyteller's words hold truth? Did the young blood mage really worship her? Could she? And, if so, did she do so in a romantic way?
Unfortunately for Hawke, none of these questions could be answered without actually speaking to the woman in question. Again, unfortunately for Hawke, the mere thought of confessing to Merrill how she truly felt made her want to run out to the Wounded Coast and bury herself in sand.
Realizing that both Varric and Isabela were staring at her, Hawke quickly calmed her nerves and reigned in her thoughts. Chugging down what was left of her drink, she shook her head as the burning alcohol made its way down her throat and stood up from the table.
"I think..." She paused, having stood up far too quickly. "I need to have a chat with Merrill," she said, just a bit slurred.
"I think you need to sober up first. You and alcohol...Well, let's just say the results tend to be disastrous," Varric said, reaching up to place a hand on Hawke's shoulder so as to push her back down. "I don't think Daisy will be any more eager to open to you if you're drunk off your ass."
"Hold on, Varric." Isabela held up a hand to stall her fellow rogue. "The booze might just give her the confidence boost she so desperately needs."
"I can handle my drink just fine, thank you" Hawke retorted, pointing somewhat unsteadily at the dwarf and then at Isabela. "And I'm already charming as can be. Watch this." She gave a passing waitress a lopsided half smile of sorts causing the girl to greatly increase her pace to back behind the bar. "Wasn't my type anyway," Hawke said slightly louder than necessary as Varric began to chuckle lightly.
"But Kitten is, so get going," Isabela urged, giving Hawke a light push on the shoulder.
"Yeah, yeah, 'Bela. I'm going, I'm going." She began making her way towards the exit, using the various chairs and people she bumped into as supports.
Varric watched her practically tumble out the door of the Hanged Man before turning back to his drink, shaking his head and sighing into his mug. "What have we done, Rivaini?"
Isabela gave him a wry smirk and downed another shot.
