Author's Note:

All Dragon Age 2 characters are copyright (c) BioWare – many thanks to them for creating a complex and engaging fantasy world and allowing me to play in it's sandbox.

Dealmaker

"I'll give you ten silver,"

"Sorry,"

"Fifteen, then."

"Nope."

"Twenty. I'll even pay for the dress. My final offer."

"Give up, Varric," sighs Isabela. "Do I have to spell it out for you? I. Don't. Do. Weddings."

"Come on, Rivaini! It'll be fun."

"Fun? That woman utterly despises me. And since when is getting gussied up in front of a bunch of stuffy noblemen just to watch her get all loveydovey and vow..." Isabela cringes, "eternal fidelity...to one man, fun? It's like, The Anti-Fun. Ugh!"

"You'll be missing one helluva party..." Varric insists, but she ignores him.

"I'm sure I'm allergic to the mere mention of it. Look," she says, pointing down at her tanned thigh, "I'm breaking out in hives,"

"Those aren't hives, Rivaini."

"They're not?" Isabela wrinkles her nose. "Then what are they?"

"Something you probably want Blondie to have a look at. I'm sure he's got a salve for it."

"There's no way I'm touching that after everyone else has," Anders declares, joining them in Varric's suite at The Hanged Man.

Marian Hawke enters just behind him, a mug of ale in her hand. "Who's touching what, now?"

"A nerve, Hawke," the dwarf snickers wryly, "I think I just touched a nerve," He points a gloved thumb at Isabela, slouched in her chair beside him. "Can't say I didn't try, though," he turns his attention back to his drink.

"I'm sorry, Hawke," Isabela stubbornly crosses her arms, "but I won't do it. Maybe for you. But there's no way in The Void I'll ever be one of Aveline's sodding bridesmaids,"

Hawke puts down her ale, which signals that she means business. "Clearly, Varric has been going about this entirely the wrong way."

The dwarf's ears perk up at the sound of his name. He's got to hear this. "I'm telling you, it's a lost cause,"

"I'll give you just two reasons, Isabela,"

"There's nothing even you can say that could change my mind," she sticks out her pierced bottom lip.

Hawke smirks, counting off one finger at a time. "Hen Night. Open Bar."

"I'm in."