"Oh Maker, what did you put inside me last night? Venom? I'm sure it was *urp* some- some kind of venom or toxin."

Hawke hugged the ship's railing, his head lolled as he watched the winged sea-rats enjoy his floating breakfast with gusto.

"C'mon, Hawke, you honestly think your own friends and loved ones would go out of their way - wait did you say venom? I'll have you know venoms are injected into the body. Poisons, on the other-hand, are imbibed. Glug, glug, glug then gaaar-aack." The Siren's Call's captain pantomimed death throes.

"I hate you", the groom weakly stated between soured burps.

"No you don't. You just hate too much fun, or least too much fun guzzled down in liquid form", Isabela smirked to herself while leaning against the main mast of her ship.

"Hate you so, so very much."

"Shush, Varric is on deck now. He'll be insulted to know not only did you and your body reject all the wonderous grain alcohol he bought for last night's celebration but also the delectable breakfast we convinced Merrill to force feed you."

"'We'? It was just you."

"I like to think Fenris' eye rolling was a form of encouragement. Did I mention he has yummy eyebrows?"

"Evil, evil woman."

"Thats 'Captain' Evil Woman to you. Aboard this ship I have a title, you know."

Hawke pulled himself up, his mind finally convinced that his stomach had little else to give to the sea, and straightened his sweat soaked shirt, "I have a few choice titles for you."

Isabela stared at him, her expression a mix of seriousness and expectancy.

"I have a few choice titles for you... Captain", Hawke muttered dispassionately.

"Much better."

Varric stepped between a pair of Sailors whom were carrying forth pieces of a long table that was being set up on the deck for the ceremony. The dwarf's face shone far redder a tint than it normally appeared and it almost worried Hawke to find the normally cool, confidence man flustered so.

"Are - are you alright, Varric?"

Varric stopped in his tracks and looked around the bustling deck carefully before locking eyes with Hawke.

"They're not behind me are they?"

"Who?"

"Aveline and Sunshine?"

Hawke raised an eyebrow and used his sleeve to wipe away the sweat that had collected on his upper lip, "Uh, no."

"Good, good", the storyteller exhaled in relief. "Alright, so since Merrill is about half way finished getting ready, we should probably get around to doing something about your... well, your everything."

"Well, not everything. I say his arse looks just fantastic in those trousers. Each buttock so well-defined, easily grippable for that first half-clothed ride into matrimonial bliss", Isabela chimed in.

"My ass, aside, I apologize for the state both of your appetites for debauchery left me in."

Isabela and Varric exchanged a quick look then broke out laughing.

"Hate... is a strong word and its why I'm using it so much today. Happiest day of my life, my ass."

"Mmm."

"Stop thinking of my ass, Isabela."

Varric clapped a hand against Hawke's shoulder, "Listen, friend, last night was both your and Daisy's final night as separate entities. We wanted both of you to live it up big, one last time."

"Your liberal use of the words 'last' and 'final' make it sound more like funerary rites than cheering me up."

Isabela crossed her arms and slightly leaned forward, amplifying her already impressive cleavage then chimed in, "Okay, Hawke, I'd be the last to admit we might have gone just a smidge too far but Kitten seemed to enjoy herself immensely. Besides when you party with the best, don't expect any less."

Hawke stared at them equally undistracted and unimpressed.

"Alright, lets just go get you cleaned up", Varric grabbed his armed and began dragging away the groom.

"Yes, lets do that. I have some nice bath oils that should get rid of that swamp-crotch odor", Hawke and Varric both gawked as Isabela confidently pushed past them.

"She's not..."

"Well she's already seen all there is to see, am I right?"

"Hmm. Good point, Serah Tethras."

"Besides, shes not wrong about the odor. I turn to face you and its - whoa, right there."

"I live a charmed life", Hawke sighed before being led off after the Captain.

Bethany took a step back and admired the reflection in the vanity's mirror.

"Merrill, you look so beautiful."

"Thank you, Bethany. I do feel rather pretty", the little elf replied while Aveline quickly, yet carefully lifted up the neckline severely reducing the gown's cleavage.

"I must admit, I am a bit jealous of you", the younger Mage admitted as she absently picked the bride's dark brown hairs from the bristles of the pearlescent-handled hairbrush.

"You are jealous because I am marrying your brother? I didn't think you were his type being his relative and all."

"MAKER NO! I - I can't live a normal life as a Grey Warden. You've heard me cry out in my sleep. You think any man would want a woman who can't promise them any children let alone a single good night's sleep?"

Aveline opened her mouth to reassure the girl but nothing came forth, she quickly shut it and simply rested her hands on Bethany's shoulders. The three women stood and sat, respectively, each of them framed in the Vanity Mirror's reflective image as the room stood silent for a time. Then before any of them would deign to break the quiet moment muffled, angry shouting and devious laughter from the guest cabin filled the air.

Bethany cleared her throat, "Guess they're getting my brother ready, and yet again he is acting like a child and fighting the excessive grooming every step of the way."

"Speaking of getting ready", Aveline piped up, "we should probably see to getting ourselves prepared for the Wedding. I can't be a bride's maid in full plate armor now... or can I?"

"You can wear anyth-"

"Absolutely not. Donnic in gleaming armor, yes. You, no." Bethany once again cut Merrill off.

After both ladies said their quick goodbyes, they made a bee-line out of the Captain's Cabin leaving Merrill to her own devices until Varric gathered her for the ceremony.