"The Viscount is busy. Try again sometime next year." Bran's snide disinterest was easily audible from Varric's office.
"Wonder which guest is bothering us today?" Hawke asked. She had several of Merrill's most recent wedding gown books open in front of her and was currently losing her mind with boredom at the prospect of choosing one.
Varric looked up from his papers. "You could go find out," he suggested with a knowing smirk. "The gowns will be here when you get back. Or not. Who knows what could happen while you're gone?"
Hawke kissed him. "Marry me?" she asked breathlessly.
He chuckled and slapped her ass playfully. "Maybe later," he replied.
She hurried out of the room with Dane at her heels, shooting Varric a flirtatious look over her shoulder that he returned. Sure enough Bran had succeeded in scaring away this visitor, but Hawke ran past him and caught sight of familiar shiny white armour descending the steps.
"Sebastian!" she called.
He stopped and looked back, his bright blue eyes lighting up at the sight of her. "Hawke! I was told you and Varric were busy…"
"Bran always says that," Hawke laughed, running to hug her friend. She refrained from mentioning that in the case of Sebastian, she was fairly certain Varric had told Bran to say that. "You came all the way from Starkhaven?"
"I would not miss your wedding, Hawke," he told her sincerely. "Nor Varric's. I must say it's rather surprizing either of you ever settled down. Though seeing you together it makes more sense." He smiled at her. "You look happy, Hawke."
She bumped his shoulder with hers. "And I remember a time when I used to tease you about marrying you!"
Sebastian flushed and chuckled. "Yes, well, if I recall correctly Hawke you once offered to marry Corff if he brought you another ale."
"Blighted bastard didn't do it, either," Hawke complained bitterly.
Sebastian laughed.
"Ooooh, Hawke, what about this one!" Hawke sighed and slid the book across the table towards her. Merrill's large green eyes eagerly watched for her reaction. "Isn't it beau-ti-ful?"
Hawke's closest friends were all at the Hanged Man for the evening, and Merrill had insisted on bringing the wedding books. "Where would I keep my staff?" Hawke asked. "Or my dagger?"
"You can't have your weapons at your wedding!" Merrill exclaimed.
Aveline nodded from across the table. "Agreed, Hawke. No weapons. I'll have enough problems with security without needing to worry about you," she warned.
"Don't worry, sweetness," Isabela added, plopping herself into the empty chair beside Hawke. "I'll show you all the best places to hide your weapons…as for the staff…that one's on Varric." She dissolved into giggles as Aveline sighed.
"Did I miss a dirty thing?" Merrill asked in a hushed voice.
Hawke ignored this. "Aveline you can't expect me to go to my wedding unarmed. What if we're attacked?"
Fenris nodded from beside Aveline. "At Hawke's wedding, it does seem likely," he agreed.
Varric returned to the table carrying more drinks. He handed one to Hawke. "I assume we are once again discussing the many reasons why we should give up and elope?" he guessed. Hawke laughed.
"Your betrothed wants to bring weapons to your wedding," Aveline informed him.
Varric considered this. "Well…" he said. "It is Hawke's wedding."
"That's what Fenris said," Isabela chuckled.
"What about Bianca?" Sebastian asked. "A crossbow that size is hardly appropriate for a wedding."
"Honestly," Varric told them, taking a sip of his drink, "it never occurred to me to bring her to the wedding. I thought she might get jealous."
"Wait…" Merrill said, "Are we still talking about the crossbow? Or the dwarf?"
Into the awkward silence, Isabela said, "Who is marrying you two, anyway?" She gasped then asked, "Can I do it? Please? Pretty please?"
"You can only marry them at sea, Isabela," Aveline pointed out.
"Right. Shit," Isabela complained. "You could get married on my ship!"
Hawke smiled at her. "Let's call that a Plan B, alright?" Isabela was clearly disappointed but did not argue.
"Isn't Varric friends with the Divine?" Fenris asked.
Varric raised an eyebrow. "I think she's a bit busy."
"The Inquisitor is moving to town soon, I hear. Into that mansion you gave her illegally. Bran has been complaining to me about that ever since," Aveline informed them. "Having the Herald of Andraste marry you would…certainly be interesting."
Hawke smiled at that. "She did get us together," she said.
Varric frowned. "Now isn't really the best time to ask her to officiate a wedding, I don't think. She's going through a lot. She did send me a letter saying she'll be there, though."
"You could do it, Sebastian," Hawke said suddenly.
Sebastian's eyes widened. "Hawke, I am no longer a brother in the Chantry…"
"No, you're a Prince now. Either way you have the authority."
"Technically Revered Mothers are the only members of the Chantry with the authority to perform marriages," Sebastian pointed out.
"You're not a member of the Chantry anymore, Sebastian. We just covered this. Keep up," Hawke argued.
"Hmm…" Varric mumbled. "The Prince of Starkhaven marrying the Viscount and Champion of Kirkwall. I honestly can't decide if this is a great idea or a terrible one. Either way, I'm sure it will piss off Bran."
Hawke beamed. "Please, Sebastian? Please!"
Sebastian's face broke into a slow smile and he shook his head. "As you wish, Hawke. I will be your Plan A."
"Don't get cocky!" Isabela teased. "Everyone knows they're one crisis away from Plan B."
"Perhaps that is why I agreed," Sebastian said with a smirk.
"Hawke," Merrill interrupted, "you never said if you liked the dress?"
Varric's arm wrapped around Hawke as her head dropped onto the table.