Disclaimer: Not my characters, just my idea. Enjoy! Leave reviews!

"Hey, Varric, look at this!" Hawke came dashing into his suite with a large smile on her lovely face. Ever since her mother's death earlier that year her smiles had become quite rare and Varric treasured every one when they appeared. He grinned back at her exuberance laying his pen down and carefully folding his spectacles. The dwarf hated for anyone to see him wearing them, but the small print on the Guild missives was impossible to read without them.

"Well, hello, Hawke. What's so exciting?" Varric appreciated her form as she sank into one of his chairs. She was short for a human, but still had those long human legs to compliment her hourglass figure. He was sure she didn't know that her armor clung to her body like a second skin and it was sometimes very distracting for her smaller friend when they traveled.

Giggling, Hawke passed a roll of parchment to him across the smooth stone. He arched an eyebrow – giggling? She was giggling now? Okay, now his curiosity was piqued. Deftly he unrolled the missive and could immediately tell by the confident strokes he wouldn't need his spectacles to read it.

My dear lady,

Has anyone told you what a remarkable being you are? You have done amazing things for this city – ousted slavers, slain dragons, rescued men, women, and children – all without thought for yourself. It is presumptuous of me to say, but have you ever stopped to consider your own worth?

You are a gem among women, the shining jewel of Kirkwall, priceless beyond compare! I'm certain there is no feasible way to measure such generosity, compassion, strength, and beauty that comprises your soul. Surely you do not need me to tell you how astoundingly beautiful you are – or perhaps you do? I'm willing to bet that your companions do not shower you with the compliments you so rightly deserve.

Allow me to volunteer my services for such a task.

Forever yours,

An Admirer

Varric swallowed the rising panic welling up in his chest as the letter fluttered from his numb fingers. Looking at Hawke he saw the flush in her cheeks, the sparkle in her eyes, the nervous way she bit her lip while waiting for his response. Andraste's ass…what do I do? Clearing his throat he leaned back and smirked. "Well, well, Hawke, that's quite a letter." Her blush deepened as she nodded her head gently. "Any idea who it could be from?"

Hawke sighed. "No. I found it buried among my other messages today. Bodahn brought them in, but that was hours ago! There's no way to trace its origins now."

"Did you want me to look into for you?" Varric's heart thumped so loudly he was sure the woman next to him could hear it, too. She shook her head no and he gave a mental sigh of relief. "So, why come to me then?"

She giggled again. "I needed to share it with someone! And you're my best friend. I can't tell Isabela or Merrill for obvious reasons, or Anders and Fenris because…well, it wouldn't be pretty." Hawke twiddled her thumbs anxiously as she looked at the dwarf. "Do you have any ideas? I mean, honestly everything he says about me in that is a gross exaggeration of me…he must have heard your stories, Varric!" She laughed, but stopped suddenly at the sad look on the man's face. "Varric? Is everything all right?"

The dwarf plastered a smile on his face to hide his heartbreak. It was suddenly very obvious to him that none of Hawke's friends had been very good at telling her what an amazing woman she was. She should be aware of her beauty and her sparkling personality, but as it stood she thought she was only good at fighting. He felt like an ass. "Everything's fine, Hawke. I was just thinking." The young woman smiled.

"I'm sure Mother would have loved to see this. Neither of us would have expected it to happen to me. Bethany was always far more likely to be on the receiving end of such declarations." Her voice broke at the thought of her sister locked in the Gallows watched by zealous Templars, while her mother was dead, scattered to the four winds. She closed her eyes to stop the tears and gave Varric's hand a light pat – he hadn't even realized he'd taken her hand in a show of comfort. Hawke opened her bright blue eyes to meet his honey orbs and gave a small sigh as she released him.

Slender fingers reached out and re-rolled the parchment before she put it gingerly in the inside pocket of her leather jerkin. His throat constricted at her soft smile as she patted the letter gently. "Well, I shouldn't take up any more of your time. I'm sure you have plenty of work to do." Gracefully, she stood to take her leave, but she turned at the door nibbling her lip again. "You'll tell me if you have any ideas, won't you?" Her hand unconsciously touched the letter hidden against her skin. "I-I would very much like to meet a man who holds me in such high esteem." She ducked her head slightly as the blush returned.

Varric could only nod and watched with a heavy heart as she walked down the stairs towards the front door. When he was sure she was gone, he laid his head wearily across his folded arms on the table, trying to calm his breathing. If he had known that she would appreciate such a gesture…but he should have known! Everyone was always saying that he knew the young lady best and it was true, but he'd never thought that love letters would be his ticket to winning her over. It was just his damned luck to find out now that someone else had made the first move!

He growled into his duster. He had a pretty good idea who that someone was, but he wasn't about to tell Hawke. Varric was smart enough to realize he'd never have a shot with her if he revealed his hunch and was proven correct. "Two can play this game." He sat up and grabbed a new piece of parchment. It was time to make his move before he missed his opportunity.

Varric stared at his doorway, waiting for her lithe form to come crashing into his suite, but he was only becoming grouchier as the day dragged on and there was no sign of her. He had sent the message before dawn with instructions to the urchin on where to leave it and paying him extra for his silence. The dwarf had played it smart and not sent his letter immediately after writing it. He didn't want to give himself away too quickly. He'd hidden it in one of his secret compartments scattered throughout his rooms and it had practically bored reproachful holes into his head for a full week.

He always teased Hawke about Bianca being his only love or joking that humans weren't his type, but they were defense mechanisms. Varric was terrified that his lovely rogue would reject him – that simple. He made her larger than life in his stories only because she already was in his mind and he could get away with waxing poetic on her beauty, her compassion, and her deadly skills in his tales and not worry about losing a limb. Hawke believed he said such things about her because they made for a good story – she had no idea that most of the things he said were really his own feelings towards her.

Sighing, he called to Norah for some ale. He could tell by the increasing bustle downstairs that it was evening and most of the rabble was in to order their drinks after work. He'd neglected his own business all day, but decided he needed the boring Guild papers to distract him from his anxiety. Norah replaced his mug three times and stoked his fire before he heard her distinctive laugh mingling with Isabela's cackle downstairs. He stopped reading mid-paragraph, something about golems in Orzammar, and removed his spectacles.

Then she was there, her small feet barely making a sound on the creaky floorboards, as she rapped her knuckles across his heavy door to announce her presence. His face lit up as he indicated the chair next to him and she sat with a smile of her own. Norah came in seconds after Hawke with a chilled mug of ale that she placed before the young woman. "Ahh, its nice to sit down after the day I've had. I had a meeting with the Viscount about his son…again. And then Isabela and I went on a wild goose chase looking for her stupid relic. Want to know what we found instead?" She paused for effect and Varric's lips quirked in response. "Spiders – a whole bloody nest of them! I could barely fight I was so terrified!" Varric laughed in his rich baritone at the image. Both of the women were absolutely horrified of spiders and he was sure there was more screaming and ducking behind rocks as they turned tail and ran instead of actually fighting them.

Hawke shivered as she replayed the memory. "It took me a good hour of soaking in scented water to get the smell off me and I'm pretty sure I'll just buy new armor so I don't have to clean it." Varric's laugh caught in his throat as he thought of Hawke soaking in a tub of fragrant bath water, but he squashed the image before he could end up dead.

"Well, it sounds like more fun than what I did today." He indicated the Guild papers haphazardly piled on a corner of the table.

"Huh, next time I think I'll run into spiders I'll bring you, my short friend and see how far you get on your legs." She glared at him, but the humor in her eyes reassured him that she was only teasing.

He raised his mug. "I'm taking you up on that, Hawke. I never get tired of seeing you run in abject terror, screaming to the Maker at his choice of creations, only to be seen again when I've done all the work." Varric winked which dissolved her pout into a grin.

They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes, drinking and sitting by the fire, as though they didn't have a care in the world. Hawke shifted and reached into her pocket to pull out two letters which she laid in front of him. He settled his features into a neutral expression while he waited for her to speak.

"Uh, I got one yesterday which is from the same person, but there was a second today and the handwriting is different…" She let out a breathy laugh. "I never thought I would be so popular."

Varric picked up the letters with false confidence. "Do you want me to read them? They were meant for you, Hawke, I don't want to intrude."

Hawke spun to face him almost in desperation. "Please, Varric, I need advice and you know the rest of them are useless. Besides, I'm asking you to read them, you aren't intruding. I-I have no experience with men…I don't know what to do." Her bottom lip was captured by her tiny, white teeth and Varric was lost. Swallowing hard he unrolled the letter he knew wasn't his and read.

My lady,

I hope my earlier words did not offend. It was only after I sent my letter that I realized that even with your station; you might not be used to such fervor. Every word I said was true, my lady, but I do not wish you to think that I am insincere because my words were more impassioned than they had any right to be.

I only wish to bring you happiness and allow you the opportunity to see yourself the way that most of Kirkwall does. The way that I do. I have watched you from afar and been enraptured by the halo that encompasses your heavenly features as the sun shines off your flaxen tresses. My fingers itch to touch it – to discover if it is truly as silky as it looks.

Forgive me. I should end here before I overstep my bounds. I hope I have not already done so.

Always,

An Admirer

Varric silenced the growl in his throat with a hearty swig of ale. He cleared his throat and looked at the woman beside him. "Pretty heady stuff, Hawke. He seems sincere, maybe a little over the top…What do you think?"

Hawke was giving him an unreadable expression as she mulled over the question. "I'm not sure. I'm afraid its one of the noblemen trying their hand at bedding Leandra Amell's daughter who is rich in her own right. I just don't want to be taken for a fool…that's why it's hard for me to believe what the letter says. Oh well, read the other one, I want your opinion on it, too."

Unrolling the second sheet of parchment he read his own words and wondered what they must have sounded like to her when she read it this morning.

My lovely lady,

I have been an admirer of yours for some time, but have been too afraid to make my feelings known. I'm sure there are plenty who would call my reluctance 'cowardice' and I'm not sure that I would disagree. You are such an amazing woman – more than any man should ever have the right to call their love. It has been said in some circles in the city that no man deserves you: you are too good, always willing to help those in need, and certainly, too beautiful.

How many times have I wished I could tell you that your eyes shine like sapphires, or that your generosity puts me to shame, that I cherish every laugh, every smile that graces your decadent lips? I've stopped myself more times than I can count for fear that you will brush off my words as teasing banter.

You are a magnificent woman. Never forget that.

Loving from afar,

An Admirer

He sighed as he put down his letter down and took another draught from his mug. Hawke was running her fingertips across the carved designs on the stone table. After reading the first letter, his sounded dreary in comparison. "I don't know, Hawke, he's not as flowery as the other man."

Hawke sipped her lukewarm ale before she turned to face him. "He sounds like he knows me on a personal level." Varric nodded. "I think it's one of the guys – it sounds like Anders, maybe Sebastian…Fenris' reading and writing is not advanced enough. But I suppose he could have paid to have it transcribed – no, he's too private for that." She raked a hand through her shoulder length blond hair with a huff. Varric spread his large hands in a gesture of noncommittal.

"Could be anyone, Hawke. You do a lot of business with the merchants in town and you've become friendly with Knight-Captain Cullen…" He trailed off, but he could see that his words cast enough doubt to send her in other directions and buy him more time.

Draining her tankard she carefully rolled her letters and tucked them away. "I should go. It's late and we have an early morning. I plan on taking you with me to talk to the Arishok tomorrow like the Viscount requested." He nodded and made to push his chair back, but she stopped him with a touch on his arm. "I don't need an escort, Varric, but I appreciate the thought. I think I would like some time alone."

Looking into her blue eyes was like drowning in the ocean and he had to struggle to the surface to breathe. "All right, Hawke," he managed to say, somehow sounding like himself. "Let me know you made it home safe, okay?" She smiled at his concern. She was well aware that he had a couple urchins that kept watch on her estate.

"I'll let your boy know, Varric, don't worry." His surprise lasted only a moment before he chuckled. Either his boys weren't careful about keeping hidden or she was really good at sleuthing. He was pretty sure it was the latter.

The words tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop them, catching her at the door. "They're right, you know." She gazed quizzically at him. "Your admirers – they're right about everything." He forced himself to maintain eye contact instead of ducking under his table and was rewarded with a tiny smile. His body hummed from being so close to her even after his ale became so warm it was unpalatable and with a resigned sigh he reached for parchment and pen.

Crashing through the door of Hawke's mansion, Varric and Hawke coughed and wheezed into the main room. It was a setup that had backfired, sending Hawke and her companions into a trapped alley with poison gas that was slowly eating their insides. Fenris had fared better than the others and was fetching Anders. It would have been easier to go to Darktown from the ambush, but Hawke insisted that she and Varric head to her home instead.

Bodahn took one look at them and began fetching water and wash basins. The comrades followed the manservant upstairs and began to shuck their armor. Hawke hissed as her wet wash rag passed over an angry blister the size of her fist on her upper arm. The poison had seeped into a hole in her leathers left from one of her mercenary raids. Varric turned at her intake of breath and felt like he'd been punched in the gut. Blisters covered the fair skin of her back. Damnit! He'd told her she needed to replace that armor after all the damage it took in their last large raid. A couple of archers had hit her in the back and it only took those holes for the poison to leech through and mar her creamy flesh.

He was sure he wasn't much better. There were welts on their faces, and he knew after that assassin nicked his tunic he was sporting some ugly blisters on his stomach and side. Sure enough, when he eased out of his top he could see the red marks on his abs and right side. Varric tried to pull out his hair tie, but his hair felt oddly stiff and then he froze in shock.

"Hawke, don't get your hair wet." She turned sharply at his tone and it was her turn to gasp to see the dwarf's injuries. "Seriously, my hair is stiff from the poison. If you wash it and it gets in your eyes…" He swallowed thickly at the idea of her going blind, her brilliant blue eyes turning a milky white. She reached up to touch her own hair pulled into a thick pony tail and found it hard and immobile.

"Maker…we need to wash this stuff off. Now. Bodahn! Bring two tubs – rinsing will not be enough!"

"Yes, Mistress," he called back. Soon, he and Sandal were each rolling wooden tubs into Hawke's room, only to disappear again to fetch the water to fill them.

Varric shuffled his feet. "Maybe I should wash in one of the guest rooms. I can roll it myself." He moved towards one of the empty tubs.

"No, Varric. You can't do that with your injuries. Look, we'll set up the privacy screen between them, okay? I know you're worried about my purity." She gave a light chuckle and began to drag the screen. Sighing heavily Varric grabbed the other end and helped her maneuver it.

Minutes passed slowly as they waited for Bodahn's return. Varric only became more anxious in the silence. His normally cheeky attitude was most likely cowering under Hawke's bed and he found it hard to meet her eyes. Then came the sound of the other dwarves lugging water buckets upstairs. In two trips the tubs were full of steaming water and Varric nervously began to untie his leather breeches. He knew Hawke was right about a full wash to get the poison off their skin and out of their hair before it did more damage, but she was right there! It was like his favorite daydreams and his deeply buried insecurities had a love child and he was being forced to live through the awkwardness.

Dropping trou quickly, he placed one foot in the water, instantly regretting the action. The hot water lapping his raw skin could be likened to willingly dipping his hand in lava. Gritting his teeth to keep from crying out and further embarrassing himself, Varric climbed fully in the tub, knuckles white against the edge as he sat down to completely submerge his body. He wasn't able to hold back the pained gasps as the water touched his blistered form.

He heard the labored breathing on the other side of the barrier and he unconsciously stretched his hand out to her. Realizing what he'd just done, he pulled it back before it could be noticed. "Hawke?" His voice sounded gruff with the pain. "How are you holding up?"

"Oh, I've had better days," she replied flippantly, but there was a sharp edge to her words. "Here, I'm tossing you one of the cloths. Somehow they both ended up on my side." He chuckled when the wet cloth cleared the top of the screen and landed with a splat just outside his tub. "Sorry for the bad aim. I'm blaming the Qunari."

He grunted as he stood and leaned over the edge to scoop up the rag, and then quickly slid back into the water before he lost his nerve to meet the lava again. "Normally, Hawke, I would say that blaming someone else for your crappy aim is bad form, but today – today, it's justified." Her soft chuckle floated across the space and for now it was enough for him. Soon, the only sounds in Hawke's bedroom were water lapping and the occasional hiss or grumbled oath as they washed off the searing poisonous residue. Closing his eyes tightly Varric dipped under the water and scrubbed furiously at his scalp, pleased when the hair softened under his deft fingers and his hair tie fell away. Coming up for air he kept his eyes closed as he tried to locate the cloth that was sure to be floating in front of his face only to feel a towel drape across his head, massaging his hair in an effort to dry it. He grabbed for an edge of the towel to pat down his face so he could open his eyes and he nearly sighed in relief to see Anders.

"Blondie, long time, no see." Varric smiled broadly as the mage glared down at him and began to wring out his hair harder than was necessary. "Hey, be gentle. I've been abused enough today." Anders grumbled something unintelligible, ordering him to step out with a flick of his head, which the dwarf did with much cursing. The man rolled his eyes and set to work healing the blistered skin as Varric stood in a towel. The cool touch of magic on his slightly fevered skin sent a chill down his spine, but he knew better than to say anything when Anders was busy, so he stood on the cold, stone floor dripping water without complaint. He breathed a sigh of relief when all the blisters were gone taking the pain with them, instead leaving him a cold, wet dwarf in Hawke's bedroom. "Thanks, Anders. I, uh, don't suppose you know where I could find some clothes? I'm bloody freezing!"

"Bodahn said he has some clothing you can wear while yours are drying. I'll go get them." His clipped tone cued Varric into the mage's foul mood. Well, what else was new? Although, he could understand it. He'd be pretty pissed to find Anders bathing in Hawke's room with only a cloth barrier between them. Anders returned with dwarf-sized clothes and placed them on the bed. Yep, there was a bronto in the room and he knew the mage wouldn't be able to just ignore it. "So, are you and Hawke…not that it's any of my business, of course."

Varric gave the man a tight smile – the one he gave slavers before Bianca ended their lives. "Did you ask Hawke?"

Anders straightened and glared at the dwarf. "She said it's none of my damn business," he growled.

Varric's eyes flashed wickedly. "Then maybe you should listen to her." The mage spun on his heel and left slamming the door as he went. Quickly, Varric threw on the clothes so he could find Hawke and make sure she was alright. Obviously, she was since Anders had spoken to her and she was feisty enough to tell him off, but he had to see her for himself. No sooner had he made it down the stairs then Hawke's front door burst open and he walked in.

"Choir Boy, what are you doing here?" Sebastian startled to see Varric at the foot of the stairs and he did a double take to see him wearing…whatever he was wearing.

"I heard about the ambush. I came to make sure she was okay." The prince's eyes lit up in understanding. "Varric, you were with her! How is she?"

Varric crossed his arms across his broad chest. "As far as I know, she is fine. Anders was just here fixing me up and I know he would have taken care of Hawke first." Sebastian nodded thoughtfully, relief washing over his chiseled features, and Varric had to keep from punching the overbearing bastard. Damn pilot whale.

"Sebastian?" Hawke's voice filtered through the door to the study. The Chantry brother swiveled his head in her direction and smiled enthusiastically when she opened the door to stand before them in her finery. Her hair was down grazing the tops of her shoulders, a slight curl to the ends of her blond locks, as it air dried and her legs went for miles under her short skirt.

"I came to check on you. I heard about the ambush in the alley." He stepped closer to Hawke and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "You should be more careful, Hawke. I was afraid for you," he whispered in a husky version of his brogue. Varric was bristling with jealous rage, but he was waiting for a sign from Hawke. If she accepted the exiled prince's advances, he would bow out gracefully; if she refused, he was going to throw him out on his ear and make his intentions known. She gave a tiny sigh and leaned into his palm, closing her eyes in pleasure.

Varric's heart shattered as he watched his hopes of making her love him vanish with that one gesture. Clearing his throat he startled the couple out of their reverie. Hawke's eyes widened guiltily when she registered his presence. "I should go home, Hawke. I can see that you are fully functional again. Just…have Bodahn send my things over when they're ready." Keeping his shoulders straight he walked through the entryway, barely stopping to jam his feet into his boots, before escaping out her front door.

He managed to avoid her for over a week. Whenever she entered the Hanged Man one of his runners would tip him off and he would bolt through the secret back alley passage and wait for the all-clear signal. She'd even tried to catch him the couple times he went to Hightown for an actual Guild meeting, but his boys were the best in the city for causing a distraction and somehow she always managed to be dead center of the trouble and he would disappear.

Varric was leaving the alienage after a visit with Merrill and the creepy mirror when he was grabbed and roughly shoved against a wall. He winced to think of the damage to Bianca, but then he saw who his assailant was and became more worried about the damage to his person. "H-Hawke…nice to see you, too. Umm, can you let go – getting hard to breathe." She loosened her hold enough to allow oxygen to fill his lungs, but she didn't let go of his tunic.

"You've been avoiding me, Varric. I must admit, some of those diversions were quite creative, though. The elven comment about dwarven ale tasting like darkspawn piss because their ancestors couldn't figure out how to properly brew anything turned into an all-out brawl in the Guild quarter." He grinned and chuckled. "Now, tell me why you've been hiding all over Kirkwall?" Varric refused to meet her eyes.

"It wouldn't have something to do with this, would it?" With her free hand she pulled a worn letter from her pocket. His letter – the one he wrote and had delivered before the mess in the alley. He shook his head feebly.

"Another letter, Hawke? My, my, you should feel special."

"I do feel special. Shall I read my favorite part?" Varric opened his mouth to protest, but his words were falling from her lips like honey – from memory. "Being near you drives me crazy, in the most fabulous sense of the word, and leaves me feeling unsure and tongue-tied. I try to keep things platonic between us, but the more time I spend with you, the harder that is to accomplish. If I had more faith that you wouldn't reject me I would court you openly and whisper these affectionate words in your ear as I pressed my lips against your fair cheek."

Hawke paused to calm her erratic breathing, but her face was in the shadows and he couldn't read her expression. "There is more, of course, but what broke my heart was the line about your fear of rejection." The dwarf froze in her hold and closed his eyes to hide the pain in them from his fellow rogue.

"I saw how you reacted with Sebastian after the fight and I…I couldn't stand to stay. I had to leave. You made your choice." He was surprised by her soft laughter in the shadows.

"Varric, I always knew it was Sebastian who sent me the first letters. He did it because I asked him to. To get a reaction out of you and find out if you were interested in me. I couldn't come out and ask you, no matter how many times I tried." She bit her lip and it distracted him from processing this information.

"What?" His eloquence caused her to laugh again. "But – but the letters…they were very intense."

Hawke nodded and sighed heavily. "He took the opportunity to tell me how he really felt about me in those letters, even though he knew I wasn't interested in him. I leaned into him that day because I knew I would have to be brutally honest and I didn't want to hurt him." Her sad blue eyes filled his vision as she released him and knelt to his level. "Instead, I ended up hurting you. I'm sorry." Her whispered apology soothed the cracks in his heart and he couldn't hold back a smile.

"Accepted," he murmured before his lips finally met hers. It was only awkward for a few seconds as they adjusted to the height difference and angled their faces into the perfect position. Cupping the back of her neck with one large hand, he used the other to pull her closer, pleased to hear the soft moan as she wrapped her arms around his body. She tasted as amazing as she looked – sweet, heady, yet something distinctly Hawke – no, not Hawke.

Varric pulled away and sighed breathlessly against her ear. "Eowyn," she shivered as he caressed her name with his sultry voice, "I have wanted to do that for a long time."

"So have I, Varric." She gave him a wicked grin. "Your place or mine?"

"Mine's closer." His grin matched hers as she stood up and they ran to the pub. They didn't even see their companions gathered for a game of Diamondback as they flew up the stairs to his suite, shooting hungry glances at each other. Anders laid his head on top of his arms with a groan, not even caring that Isabela and Fenris peeked at his hand, while Aveline pursed her lips in disapproval. With a triumphant squeal Isabela laid out her cards and collected the coins piled in the center of the table. Turning to Fenris she held out her palm. "You owe me a sovereign for winning the bet on those two." She jerked her thumb up the stairs with a smirk.

Fenris eyed the pirate. "I don't have the coin right now, but maybe I could work off the debt instead?"

"I love the way you think." They stood together and turned towards the stairs.

"Don't come see me in the morning, Fenris. I don't want to know," was the muffled response from the mage. The couple ignored him and continued on their way. "I need another drink." He sat up to find Norah and saw Aveline nodding her head.

"Anders, I never thought I'd say this, but let's get shit-faced. Then I won't have to think." The mage nodded emphatically and signaled Norah for another round.

Hawke woke in the morning, long, lean limbs entwined with short, stocky ones, her face resting peacefully on Varric's broad chest and gave a contented sigh. The rumble of laughter in his chest had her smiling happily in the face of her dwarf. He leaned down and gave her a slow, deep kiss until someone began pounding on his door. "Hold on!" Shooting her an apologetic look, he scrambled out of the bed and threw on his breeches, hurriedly tying the laces as he opened his door. Hawke could hear whispering, but not the words.

"Uh, Eowyn, you might want to get dressed." Varric entered his bedchamber and threw on his tunic. "Our friends went off the deep end last night." Mouth a perfect 'o' she quickly pulled on her under tunic and pants, following where Varric led. The first door they opened revealed Fenris and Isabela buck ass naked and still sleeping off their hangovers. Hawke quickly shut the door and Varric shrugged. "Could be worse."

At the end of the hallway Varric pushed open a door that was perfectly concealed in the shadows. Dwarf and human could only stare in shock and awe. Anders was hanging from a pair of manacles on the wall wearing nothing, but his smalls, while Aveline was passed out on a cot against the wall. Anders roused slightly at the sound of the door grating against the floor, but it was Justice who spoke.

"Get me down from here at once!" Varric rushed over and stood on a chair to pick the locks on the manacles.

"Justice, what happened?" Hawke wasn't sure, but it looked like a whip and a feather were lying on the table in the center of the room. The blue-tinged entity inside Anders' body radiated rage.

"Those two," obviously meaning Anders and Aveline, "got drunk and decided to play 'the naughty mage and the helpless recruit!' I swear I will never let this idiot mage get drunk again!" Varric and Hawke burst into laughter, which made the lock picking process take longer, but eventually Anders was dumped unceremoniously on the filthy floor. Justice disappeared as the mage came to.

Anders took in his surroundings and state of undress in horror. "Oh, Maker, please tell me we didn't…wait, never mind, I don't want to know." He stood up and dressed without meeting his friend's eyes. "Thank you, you two. I-I'll see you later. I must go." He was gone before either of them could say a word. When Aveline began to come around, Hawke and Varric bolted for his suite, quietly closing the door behind them and locking it. As they undressed and crawled back into bed they smothered their laughter in the pillows.

"I swear I can't make this shit up!" When Aveline came pounding on Varric's door demanding answers he called back that they were busy, which soon had them alone again. As they snuggled together, their bodies naturally molded into one, the couple drifted to sleep - happy that their mutual admiration was finally in the open.