The Hanged Man is crowded when Marian finally enters the tavern. With a quick nod to the barkeep, Corff, she makes her way to her group's normal table. As she makes her way through the throng of lowlifes and run of the mill drunkards, the rogue feels her memories of a few hours ago flood her mind. Hawke had decided to enter the establishment in hopes that she would find her friends to help lift her from her current depression. She always felt a bit out of sorts when leaving the Gallows, after visiting day with her sister, and today seemed as if it was the worst day ever to have to leave her younger sister, Bethany, behind. She hated leaving her behind, but no matter how much she offered the templars or how much she threatened, Marian's pleas for her sister's release fell on deaf ears. The last conversation she had with the Knight-Commander echoed loudly in her head drowning out all the shouts and cheers as everyone took note that she was in the bar.
Suddenly a hand shoots out from a table and grasps her firmly around the wrist causing Marian to reach for her dagger, "Relax Sweet Thing, you nearly passed our table," Isabela says as she allows her hand to drop from Hawke's wrist to quickly grasp her hand and give a quick squeeze. "Here. You can sit beside me, you know I don't bite... well, I don't bite hard anyway," the pirate says with a wink causing a faint smile to dance upon the rogue's lips. As Marian sits down, she notices that everyone in their motley crew is in attendance at the pub.
"Hawke! I didn't think you were going to make it," Varric shouts, trying vainly to be overheard as the din from the next table reaches a crescendo. Staring at their leader, the dwarf raises an eyebrow and states, "You don't look so good Hawke."
"Well, thanks I guess... but coming from you, I would take that as a compliment. After all, we all know the sort of judgment you have when it comes to looks!" Hawke exclaims while the rest of the group bursts into laughter.
"Aww, Sweet Thing, don't tease Varric too much. You see, I have found out that the reason he dates women with as much hair on their face as Anders is because Bianca is jealous," Isabela purrs into the rogue's ear as her hand finds its home on Hawke's thigh.
"Why would a crossbow be jealous of a woman, Isabela?" Merrill asks as she looks at the pirate, "And Hawke, Varric is right, you do not look so well. Is it too hot in here?" the elf questions as she stares at the flustered woman.
"I think I can answer that one Merrill," Aveline says after taking a sip from her flagon of ale. "The local slattern believes that Varric's crossbow takes on human form during the night and would beat the poor dwarf senseless if he should ever look upon a woman who is prettier than said crossbow," the guard captain comments as she stands up and stretches. "And since that is the case, I shall leave your company before Bianca decides to come to life and beat the shit out of Varric." Smirking at the look she receives from Isabela, Aveline leaves before the rest of the group could remark on her comment.
"I think she got you that time, Rivaini."
"Shut up, Varric," Isabela snarls. Turning to face the rest of the group she states, "Does anyone else have anything to add? Fenris? Sebastian? Oh... I know you have something to say Anders, or at least I know Justice is just bursting to voice his opinion!"
The men stare at each other and shake their heads vigorously, hoping that their silence would quell the tempest rising in the pirate queen's emotions. "Good. I am sure that Nora would be obliged to not spend the rest of the night cleaning up the bloody mess that would be your remains if you did have something to add to Lady Man-Hands' retort." Isabela starts looking around the room, "Speaking of Norah... where is that wench? Hawke has been here for ten minutes now and she hasn't received her first flagon of ale."
"I am not exactly in the mood for the ale here tonight, Isabela, I just came to see you guys is all."
"Bullshit. You know you do not come to the Hanged Man just to spend time with us... you are always spending your time with us! You come to the Hanged Man to get spectacularly besotted and then pass out in a ditch. At least that is what I do anyway!"
"Did you visit the Gallows again today, Hawke?" Anders asks, ignoring the banter between their leader and the pirate wench.
"Yeah. I don't understand why Knight-Commander Meredith will not see reason! I mean, Bethany could never hurt anyone... well, maybe a darkspawn or a bandit, but an innocent? She would never!" Marian remarks. Her hand unconsciously drifts toward the dagger on the left side of her hip.
"Because she is a prude, Sweet Thing! I am sure if she didn't have a desert and cobwebs down there she would be more than happy to release every single mage in the Gallows and then would set about all of Thedas freeing mages from the terrible clutches of the Chantry," Isabela comments with a smile, then her eyes focus on a figure moving along the far wall of the main room. The pirate's smile grows larger as she lets out a shrill whistle. "There she is," she mutters before raising her voice to carry over the din, "Oi, Norah! Get your arse over here and take Hawke's order! She's been here for so long without so much as a sip of ale, that she almost mistook this bloody tavern for the Chantry!"
The serving woman nods her head quickly and barrels through a drunken sell-sword causing him to fall to the floor. "By the Dread Wolf... I have never seen that woman move so fast!" Merrill exclaims as she watches in delight as the woman jumps over an upturned chair without spilling a drop from the flagon of ale she is now currently setting in front of Marian. After the excitement of watching Norah traverse the crowded room in such a frenzy, Merrill remembers what she was going to say before, "I don't think she is a prude, Isabela." The pirate raises her eyebrow but allows the elf to continue. "She seems too sour of a personality to be a prude and besides, prudes are fruit. I don't think that the Knight-Commander is a fruit."
Varric, Hawke, and Isabela burst into a hearty laugh as Sebastian rolls his eyes and Anders covers his with his hands and groans softly. Fenris, ever the dark and broody elf that he is, stands, unsmiling, and clears his throat, "I think I have had enough company for one night. Hawke, if you need me for any quest I will be in my home, trying to figure out where Danarius has fled."
Sebastian stands up as well and offers to walk with Fenris. As the laughter finally disperses from the group, Varric sighs, "That's prunes, Daisy, not prudes."
"Oh..." the elfin mage ponders for a moment before speaking again, "Then what is a prude, Varric?"
The dwarf looks toward the rogue and the pirate, his face becoming as red as the Orlesian wine that he was drinking. "I will handle this one, Varric," Isabela says with a smile and leans over to whisper in the innocent mage's ear.
"So a prude is a... oh!" Merrill blushes profusely and clears her throat, "Then no... it is definitely not a fruit."
Marian laughs again as she watches the interaction between Isabela and Merrill, takes a large gulp of her ale and grimaces, "Damn. Does Corff always have to have the worst tasting ale in Kirkwall? I swear, I think drinking goat's piss would be better than drinking this swill!" Looking around, she realises that she missed the exit of Fenris and Sebastian and voices her concern, "What did we do now to offend those two?"
"For Sebastian to leave, I think it had to be Rivaini's comment about you mistaking the Hanged Man for the Chantry and as for Fenris..." Varric pauses to take a bite from the turkey leg that sat on his plate, "I think he left because we were laughing too much."
"Ah, well, they were not the reason I came here anyway. I will not change who I am just because they do not like a bit of fun," Marian replies as she snatches a hunk of bread off of the dwarf's plate and tears the tough, dark bread with her teeth.
"You know, I don't understand it," Isabela muses aloud, "They constantly spend time with us, yet they disapprove of everything we do. At least Man-Hands has finally warmed up to the notion of bending the laws a little bit, but those two..." the pirate sighs as she feigns heartache at the thought of the two men being upset by the antics of the rest of the crew.
"Well, I guess that means more food, drink, and bounty for us, yes?" Their leader states with a smile. Her eyes never straying from the pirate queen's cleavage after Isabela sighed.
"You do know that if you ever slighted them, they would be perfect allies for all of our enemies, right?" Anders says after taking a sip of water, staring wantonly at the flagons of ale, wine, and whiskey that littered the table in front of him.
"Is that Justice speaking, Anders?" Isabela quips as she stares at the apostate, "It has to be since he doesn't allow you to drink. Or is that the snivelling of some half-man, half-abomination who is afraid that things will fall apart around him and he will be found out for the monster he really is?"
Anders stands up quickly, causing his chair to fall to the hard wood floor with a clatter, "I am not an abomination! Within me resides the Spirit of Justice not some vile demon!" He points his finger in the direction of Merrill, "There sits your abomination! With the blood magic she weaves, it is a wonder that the veil to the Fade has not been torn asunder!" The apostate spins on his heel and storms out of the tavern, never once looking behind him to see if anyone would follow him.
"Well, that is the last of them," Hawke says with a smirk, "I was wondering how long it would take the rest of the crew to leave. Now I can finally tell you all what happened."
"I was wondering when you were going to tell us about your trip to see Sunshine," Varric states, "I thought I was going to have to knock a bolt into Anders before he took the hint! At least Aveline left in record time. I guess she already knew that we would go back to plotting, so she left before we made her leave!"
"Why would she stay? It's not like she ever gets her hands dirty when we are faced with the less than savoury tasks that we deal with from time to time," the pirate says with a roll of her eyes as she reaches, leaning heavily across Marian, for the bowl of cherries on the rogue's other side.
"That is true," the Fereldan states calmly, though her body craves to touch more of the woman who leans across her, "Aveline always had a knack of leaving when we have to break a few of Kirkwall's rules. So, of course, this would be no different. I can understand though, she is the guard-captain. If she were to be seen with us in some of the sorties we find ourselves in, she would lose her job."
"Yes,yes... we know that Aveline is too honourable to try to break into the Gallows to help us save Bethany," everyone looks at the young blood-mage in surprise. "I want to know how is Bethany, Hawke," Merrill questions. A smile crosses her face as she muses over the youngest of the Hawke siblings.
"She's fine, Merrill. She told me to tell you not to worry about her and that she misses you sorely," Marian says with smile, the shock of the elf's outburst slipping away as the seconds ticked on. She had noticed a few months ago that Merrill and her sister had been spending quite a bit of time together and was happy that her younger sister had found a strong friendship in the young elfin mage.
"So what did the Knight-Commander say this time, Sweet Thing?" Isabela asks though she already discerned the answer from her lover's facial expressions.
"Meredith said that it does not matter how many people Bethany has saved, the point of the matter is that she is a mage and mages should not be allowed freedom no matter how noble their hearts," Marian grits her teeth and seethes silently as she remembers the conversation that she had forgotten since sitting down at the table. "I had to beg to see her! After all that we have done for this bitch, I still do not have the privilege of seeing my sister for more than a candle mark a week! We need to get her out of there and soon."
The three other conspirators of their group nod their heads in agreement but none can think of an idea that would allow them to free the young Hawke. Sitting silently, they all turn their attentions to the flagons in front of them. Isabela with her strong whiskey from the Rivain, Hawke with her local ale. Varric motions for another cup of Orlais's finest wine as Merrill sips quietly on a less potent concoction of lemon water and triple filtered rum.
Finally, after several moments of silence, Varric clears his throat, "You know, Hawke, I was thinking. Did your parents ever tell you stories when you were a child?"
"That's an odd question, but yes, they did," the Fereldan rogue utters before taking another gulp of ale. "Okay, I can not stomach any more of this filth, Bela, can I have a drink from your flagon before my tongue falls out of my mouth from the taste of this horrid swill that sits before me?"
Isabela smiles seductively before downing the contents of her cup, "Well, I would have gladly allowed you to partake of my whiskey, but alas, it is all gone. But I do know something that can get that horrid taste from your mouth and it is also from the Rivain. Might I suggest you try it? It is in my room and is not very hard to find, we will be back within an hour's time or, at the latest, by mid-morning, maybe then we can come up with an idea on how to get Bethany out of the Gallows."
Isabela stands up and turns from the table with Marian following quickly behind her, the rogue's mind already imagining the clothes off the curvaceous pirate. "Ahem..." Varric glares at the two women, "If you two would just keep your hands off one another for a few minutes, maybe then I can tell you about my plan."
"You mention children's stories, Varric, how were we to know you were going to speak of a plan?" Marian mutters dejectedly as she sits back down on the bench.
Isabela slips into Hawke's lap and sighs with frustration, "Allright Varric, you have our attention. Now make it quick before Bianca needs a new owner."
"Thank you for your patience, Rivaini," Varric states sarcastically as he rolls his eyes. "Yes, I did mention children's tales. Do you recall what most of the stories were about?"
"Hmm, the usual I guess..." Hawke says as she thinks back to her childhood memories. "You know, a knight saving the fair maiden from a dreaded dragon or cruel tyrant. Or my favourite ones with pirates and treasure!" The rogue slips her arms around the woman in her lap and pulls her close.
"Ooo, I love those stories!" Isabela exclaims, her eyes flickering with excitement as she remembers the vast amounts of treasure she had obtained while she still captained Siren's Call, "Hawke, you really need to invest in a ship soon. I mean just think how many sovereigns you can earn if you had a ship!"
"Earn? When does anyone earn anything through piracy, Rivaini?" Varric questions, "Don't answer that. It was a rhetorical question. What I was trying to get at though is that most stories told to little children are about knights and maidens, correct? Correct. Now imagine yourself as a knight, Hawke, and your sister, the fair maiden. Now..."
"Eww!" The Fereldan shudders, "I am sorry, but I just can not picture that! I mean, do you remember what happened at the end of those stories? They were wed and lived happily ever after! That is just not what I need to imagine!" She shudders again.
"Focus Hawke!" The dwarf chides, "Let me lay out my plan before you decide to comment. As I was saying..." He looks at the two women in front of him, narrowing his eyes, waiting for either one to speak. When both stare back at the dwarf, he continues, "Okay, imagine that you are a knight and Bethany is a..." Hawke shudders again and grimaces, "Maiden that you do not live happily ever after with! What would you do? Would you ask the evil dragon or tyrant to let the maiden leave? Or would you scale the tower wall with your sword and shield strapped to your back and sneak in to rescue the damsel in distress?" Varric stares at Hawke for a few seconds, eyebrow raised, "Now is the time to speak, Hawke."
"Oh! Quite right..." the rogue blushes slightly and clears her throat before responding, "I would scale the walls of course! That is what a knight would do! And besides why would a knight in a children's tale ask if..." her eyes alight with understanding and a sly smile crosses her lips, "So tell me Varric, do you know a man who is willing to sell over a hundred metres of rope?"