Lena is an incredibly thirsty dwarf, unfortunately her Charisma skill is fairly low.

Athenril was the answer. It didn't come to her right away. Heck, it didn't even come to her until she spotted the elven coterie agent sneaking into the Rose and catching her mid-tryst with Cora. The two of them pressed into an alcove, rutting and gasping their pleasures in between shushes and giggles.

Sue her, Lena listened intently. You'd think she'd be used to hearing the sounds of fucking. The slap of flesh on flesh, moans, gasps and the faint heady scent wafting to her. She works in a brothel for fuck's sake, she should be used to it. But there is a difference between fucking, having sex, and making love. So when she listened intently, it was because the level of passion Athenril and Cora displayed was downright pornographic and heartwarming. It was a refreshing change of pace.

Lets just say Lena was going to go out of her way to find some alone time, someway somehow, and reflect on the noises she overheard.Taarsidath-an halsaam , indeed.

However, approaching Athenril right then for help was not an option as she swears she was a paid slave given how quickly Lusine demanded her to do things. She almost felt like the little princess. If only she had an attic room, then she'd be glad to do everything the Madam asked of her, only to retire to her imaginative machinations. Sadly, that wasn't her reality.

The chance to ask came Tuesday morning just after closing. Lena was exhausted. The Sharps had been in and instead of pursuing of the wares, they had instead opted for the best wine and ale the house had in celebration of some job. She didn't know and she didn't fucking care. She did however care when they drank until they pissed themselves because that meant less splash back on the chamber pots and less cleaning she had to do as it was in their trousers. But their celebrations meant Lena was dragged to the cellars and helped Quintus carry up the wine.

Remember, Lena had zero muscle definition and came from a world where if things were too heavy, you got a forklift or a reasonably able bodied young man. Thedas didn't have that. Well they had many able bodied men but Quintus was already hoisting up the other cask.

The cask had dropped from her grip because, let's face it, Lena was a weakling and it had been slipping the moment she began climbing up the stairs. With a faintly whimpered "I can make it, I can make it" she tried to go up. It slipped from her grasp and while she tried to grab it again, it fell off the stairs sideways and crashed open below. Quintus had been right behind her with his arms full and gave a low whistle while he bustled past her up the stairs.

"That's going to cost ya." He mumbled to her.

She was only so lucky she'd been carrying up a cask of relatively cheap ale. Had she been carrying the good stuff... she would be crying. In other news she now had an additional sovereign tacked onto her debt, bringing it to a total of sixteen sovereigns and twelve silvers.

Bursting out the alley entrance of the Rose twenty minutes after Luisine called for Viveka to add the sovereign to her debt, she grumbling curses in every language she even partially knew. Spanish, French, Japanese, Chinese, heck even some Tevene and Qunlat.

There were patrons of the bathhouse, aptly named "The Powder Room," slipping from their back entrance in the alley and slipping into the Rose freshly cleaned with flushed faces and their intent evident by their expressions and loose trousers. Some of them gaped at the stream of curses coming from her, before disappearing into the Rose. None of them stopped to ask her if she was alright.

She'd never been inside the bathhouse. Five weeks in Thedas and she hadn't bathed. That's not saying she hadn't cleaned herself. She's kept up maintenance on her crotch, pits, and face and hair as well as washed her hands every chance she got because hygiene on Thedas was atrocious. She only just tried not to think about how much germs she ingested when she ate whatever the Rose's cook, Pippa, made. The bathhouse cost money to use. Precious coins that she was not going to give up.

Tonight though, she could use it. She'd already forfeited her night's wages once she walked out. What's a few more coppers?

Yanking her apron off, she slipped back into the Rose and grabbed a change of clothes as well as all her dirty clothes. She dropped her them off at the laundress for two coppers. A steal of a price but one she got because she reported when the eldest son, Johan, would try to sneak into the Rose.

Entering the Powder Room, she dropped the three coppers into the waiting hands of the elderly woman at the door and walked in. She happily rushed to the public ladies side and chucked her clothes off. There were private bathing chambers with hot water for those who paid a few silvers more, but Lena was not made of money. The group baths were barely lukewarm, having been heated up every few hours.

Avoiding the shiny metals that were makeshift mirrors in one corner, real mirrors were very expensive, she climbed into the large wooden tub. With a withering glower at her leg hair, she hid them from view under the water.

Lena had already spent one evening examining her body and it was definitely hers. Yes, she'd entertained the idea that she had been shoved into someone else's body in some body-snatching horror story. Thankfully, that wasn't the case because she had every scar, birthmark, and peculiarity she remembered having back home only now it was in a much smaller denser package. She'd been transformed into a dwarf and did not like being reminded of it anymore than her having to crane her neck up to look at everyone, so she avoided reflective surfaces.

With her bundle of clothes down on the ledge, she submerged herself in the warm soapy water not yet wanting to sit down. She wadded in the warm water for all of two seconds when a certain elf popped up behind her.

"Fancy seeing you here." Athenril crooned into her ear. Lena yelped, her voice echoing in the tiled chamber, other bathers looked her way and paused in their conversations to give her a cursory glance.

"Athenril!" She hissed and eyed the elf who lounged back against the seats with a pleased grin, shoulders shaking with contained laughter. Lena had a scold on the tip of her tongue but stopped.

In truth she hadn't spoken to the elf once since she was dropped off at the Rose but she had seen her walking the streets and alleys of Hightown, ducking and weaving guards while dropping off packages and threatening folks.

Athenril was bare of all her clothes, armor and even her hair was down. The intricate blue tattoos Lena had caught a glimpse of stretched up her arm, over her shoulders, to her back and down her chest. It swirled up and out, all around her arm and ended in stylized flowers. You wouldn't have guessed they were so girlish given how Athenril holds herself.

"How's servant life… Lena, was it?" Athenril stretched her arms up, her breasts rising out of the water.

It wasn't her fault Lena's gaze naturally gravitated toward them. Boobs were a magical part of the female anatomy and thus she appreciated all kinds. For instance, Athenril's were small, she'd say less than an A cup but they were taut against her frame. A messy jagged scar along the right side of her chest partially marred the dark areola and nipple but it gave them character. They were not soft or bouncy, in fact they were as defined as the hardened body that carried them.

It did not make the desire to lick each nipple and suck on them any less, especially remembering the gasping moans Athenril could produce.

"Was it Lita?" Athenril mused, a single brow quirked up.

"What… no no it was Lena sorry I uh-" She was blushing, and she couldn't even blame it on the hot water because the water wasn't even that warm.

"Enjoying the view?" Athenril deadpanned, a harsh glare sent Lena's way, but she didn't cover up. "Haven't seen enough bosoms working in the Rose?"

This is true. She'd seen the breasts of every woman working in the Rose at least once by now. Either by accidentally seeing them naked when she delivered food or had to clean up a mess all over the floor and the workers were still in states of undress, she'd seen them all. Perky, bouncy, sagging, puckered, innies and outies. You name it, she's seen them. Idunna, Katreila, Luisine, Viveka, Cora, Sabina… she's seen them all. She's also seen the cock and balls of all the males but that's another story. The weekly "shaving" of the girls and gents had made her miss the ease and use of nair cream products to keep her bits from becoming a fire hazard, as she used to call it. Now though, sadly she had a fire hazard herself.

"Breasts are different from woman to woman. Yours are especially beautiful." Lena muttered confidently. Somehow this caught Athenril off guard and made her flush. She looked away, her hair drawn to cover her cheeks and hand covering her mouth.

Was Athenril self-conscious of the scar? Lena narrowed her eyes and considered her options. Back home, this would be easy. She could be forward and ask for permission, but if she offended people from home they were not likely to pull out a dagger and cut her. As she's learned, daggers are not her friends.

"May I touch them?" Lena dropped her voice a tad, and spoke as though she lost her breath with a sly smile. The red flush bloomed all across Athenril's face, down to her lovely chest and even reached the tips of her ears, which were now pointing up out of her hair and twitching.

Was twitching a bad sign? She really hoped it wasn't.

"I… you… you what?" Athenril whispered, sinking into the water and looking around them suspiciously, particularly at the other patrons.

"I guess that's a no." Lena casually waded to her own seat a few feet from Athenril and began scrubbing her body thoroughly, getting rid of weeks of sweat, oil, dirt and grease with the thin bar of soap. She'd have to buy another one soon but that'd be another five coppers gone. It almost seems cheaper to just make her own soap but it's a long process.

Ducking into the water, she rinsed off and climbed out. Athenril had already disappeared after her rather forward request. Great. She probably offended the coterie rogue.

Dressing, she walked out the back entrance of the Powder Room into the autumn rain that was now pelting the streets of Kirkwall. If she'd known it was going to rain, she wouldn't have bothered paying to bath and instead have stood on the rooftops showering under the cloudy dark skies. So what if the rain was a bit cold, it would have been cheaper.

Sighing, she slipped back into the Rose. Today was just a day of wasted coppers and wasted opportunities.

Sunday as usual meant the Rose was closed, or else the wrath of pious and hypocritical Chantry clerics would reign on them. Lena has just finished waxing the floors and it was still light out and so she ventured out on a few errands, including to pick up Luisine's favorite soap that had run out. The Madam wanted to head to the bathhouse before she visited the Chantry. It was expected of her as the proprietor of the Rose, even if the sisters and nobles sent her dirty looks. Lena had seen them and frankly they were hypocritical as their husbands, sons, and brothers all partook of the Rose's wares.

There were Chantry sisters bustling about trying to make the Red Lantern workers guilty, but she ignored them. Or… she would have if a certain royal archer wasn't avoiding the Red Lantern District specifically. She spotted him in initiate cleric robes, which raised her brows.

Initiate robes… He hadn't yet taken his vows.

She almost expected Grand Cleric Elthina to be next to him. Instead she found an elderly brother and a few Sisters. They were reading from the Chant in the merchant square, taking turns reading and nodding along and advertising the service in a few hours as well as confessions.

Lena probably had a death wish because suddenly she had a desire to express religious conversion and confess some dirty filthy sins, but only if a certain archer was tending to the confessions.

Dashing off to the Rose she dropped off the soaps and splashed her face, waking herself up. Normally she would be asleep by now but things had to be purchased.

When she walked into the Chantry she had to take a moment to catch her breath. It was large and beautiful. Stained glass depictions of Andraste sent tinted light only to be cleared by the hordes of candles. The main hall itself was had many worshippers sitting in the birch wood pews or kneeling by the stone altars with statues of Andraste with a bowl of fire. The architecture itself was made of marble, tiny crenellations giving the balcony depth and beauty, the arches tying the balcony together with the main floor. There were two stairwells that lead to the main stage or podium where the Grand Cleric would give her sermon.

Lena felt completely out of place and like she'd be smote any minute now for even stepping foot in here.

"Changed your mind did you?" A rather vicious voice hissed her way and Lena eyed the human, squinting. It was the one who had called her a heathen. Her blonde hair pulled back into a tight bun and her eyes accentuated by dark smudges. It created sharp edges and made her look that much more tense and mean. "The Maker accepts all his children, even those who rejected him prior."

"Right...thanks…" She muttered, side stepping around that particular sister and shuffling into the Chantry. It was still very early and from what she knows about the patrons who complained, the nobles usually had their sermons early and then the rest of Kirkwall could come and visit the Chantry for their sermons. Given the still lingering nobles, she'd guess she caught it right on the tail end.

She spied a few dwarves in the pews, all grouped up on one side. Occasionally a human would stop by and speak with them before progressing to another seat. Aside from the surprising realization that there was dwarves here at all, why were they segregated?

She shook her head and slid in the back pew by her fellow vertically challenged folks. There's a sentence she thought she'd never use. She didn't feel quite so short with them even if some of them were taller than her by a few inches.

"Well well, and here I thought you weren't Andrastian." Denier slid into the pew next to her.

"By the stone, Denier did you follow me?" She snapped lowly under her breath, wary of the dirty looks that were sent Denier's way.

"By the stone? Since when were you a believer of the old religion... and here in the Chantry?" Denier threw his arm over her shoulders. Lena tried to shy away from him.

"It's an expression. Just words..." Lena grumbled.

"Better not let the Kalnas hear you say that."

"The what?" Lena hissed as more dwarves slid next to them and she was forced to slide all the way down the pew until she was squished between Denier and one hooded dwarf next to her who regarded her with a bemused look. She didn't get much of a look at him, wanting instead to hide away before the other dwarves recognized who she was and made her leave or something.

"You really are new to the surface. Here I thought Lusine was joking.'" Denier tutted and began explaining surface dwarven politics. Kalnas wanted to maintain caste and rank from Orzammar, to which Denier and her both rolled their eyes at that. Kalnas typically were those from respected castes and nobles, so of course they wanted to retain the prestige they had in Orzammar. Ascendants wanted to leave Orzammar traditions behind and embrace surface life. You can guess that most ascendants were from less than prestigious castes and ranks, many of which were casteless. There were of course some exiled nobles who wanted nothing to do with the castes, but they were rare and far between.

"Just how do you even know this?" Lena knew all this from the games of course but appreciated the reminder and thus filed it away. Perhaps she could concoct some type of background from her. Eventually someone was going to ask and she could only coast on by with the assumptions people made about her appearance. She was sure many of the dwarves around her would know she was not in fact from a Noble house of Orzammar. She needed a cover story.

Denier pressed close and whispered in her ear. "Oh... it's because I'm the disgraced son of House Harrowmont."

"Harrowmont?" Lena regarded him. Had House Harrowmont had other children besides Renvil, Baizyl, and Harvel? She couldn't remember much else about House Harrowmont aside from it being one of the oldest noble houses. "...as in the advisor to the King of Orzammar? Head of the House being Pyral?" Lena asked, eyes narrowed. "You're fucking with me."

Denier pulled back, mouth open in offense and he glared. "No, it's true. Exiled in my youth because I wouldn't marry the Princess Aeducan-"

The dwarf next to Lena burst into laughter, startling her. She jumped in her seat and gave a small yelp. Denier leveled a terse glare his way for all of twenty seconds before he was sputtering with laughter.

"Andraste's ass, Denier. Don't yank on her leg too much." A faintly familiar voice came chuckling from the hooded dwarf beside her.

"I couldn't keep it up for much longer, anyway." Denier snorted and clapped a hand on Lena's shoulders. "Lena, I'd like to introduce to you to-"

"Varric Tethras." The hooded dwarf held his hand out to her.

Lena's stomach gave a flip flop hearing the name, the connection between voice, name, and now face as he drew his hood down and sent her that signature smirk and wink. It made her toes curl pleasantly and she felt a giggle bubble up in her but she squashed it down. Be cool. Okay, be cool, you're totally not meeting your self-proclaimed spirit animal. She gave a somewhat crooked smile his way and shook his hand, silently vowing she'd never again wash that hand.

"Le-" Her voice squeaked with a cringe. She cleared her throat. "Selena River, but Lena is fine." She thought she managed to save herself, but the way Varric's brows furrowed just then made her stomach sink. Great, now he thinks I'm a twit.

Varric poised the silent question. "You must be new to Kirkwall."

"Uh… yes. I am... " She floundered, staring at Varric. His blonde hair swept back into a ponytail, the tell tale gold earrings, his necklace, and she spied his bare chest hair. Her fingers itched to run through it. Despite what the games and books said, he did have a bit of peach fuzz on his jaw, not nearly enough to constitute as a beard though. It was enough scruff that she wanted to rub her face against it…or her tits.

Varric's scruff rubbed on her tits. Yes, please .

"Barely, she's been here a month already?" Denier

"Five weeks, three days." Lena automatically answered, knowing the exact amount of time she's been here. Most in her situation would immediately think how worried their family and friends back home would be… not her. Her family and friends wouldn't be the least bit worried as Lena tended to disappear for months on end with no contact with any of them while she worked on a new project. If it weren't for the fact that they knew she loved to eat, they would probably worry she wouldn't eat enough but she did. In spades if her chunky form was any indication. A chunky form that was now even heavier in her new shorter stature. Sigh .

"I didn't exactly have a choice in whether I could stay or go." Lena muttered once she saw Varric's questioning look. She almost wanted to spill and say she was being held against her will and made to pay off a bogus debt, but he had no ties to her. He had zero loyalty to her. The thousands of hours spent play Dragon Age 2 and Inquisition did not equal a friendship, no matter how many times she actively elected to bring Varric along to hear his party banter. Even if it did… none of that had yet happened. It was years before his meeting Hawke, a whole decade plus before Inquisition. She was in uncharted territory.

"Kirkwall not sitting well with you?"

She gave a dark chuckle, refusing to ever giggle in the presence of Varric Tethras. "You could say that."

"Lena's just sour. Luisine's working her down to the bone." Denier explained empathetically, pulling her close again. She just caught the waggling of his brows.

"I-... I don't… I work in the Rose yes, but not like Denier." Her cheeks flushed. She did not want Varric Tethras thinking she was a prostitute… although. Did Varric ever partake in Luisine's wares? Would he ever?

He probably would.

Her brain had a mini aneurysm at that.

"Really now? Didn't know Luisine managed to find a fairer sex of the dwarva for her collection." Varric stroked his chin and gave her an appreciative look.

Lena might have drooled a little at his response, her hand twitching and her entire right side burning by being so close to Varric Tethras. If only they were touching. She was sure to be made of lava and bursting with steam at the ideas running through her. All fueled by that look the rogue had to give her just then.

She needed a bath. And a good long lay. Preferably with a certain dwarf and elven coterie agent.

Lena didn't get to respond back because the hall grew silent as one of the clerics began the sermon. Honestly, she didn't pay attention. She was more concerned with her inner battle as she looked down between Varric and her. Their hands were inches apart. Her fingers twitched toward his.

How forward would it be to grab his hand? How forward would it be to intertwine their fingers together like the silly goose that she was? More importantly how forward would it be to slip her hand on his thigh and grip the muscles she knew to be there, because Varric Tethras lifts. Probably too forward for Thedas. Way too forward.

She gave a soft sigh and pressed her hands to her lap. Be cool, you thirsty fool. She admonished herself over and over, completely missing the sermon.

Denier's arm was over her shoulders again and dragging her into Hightown. She would have drawn away if she wasn't used to it. When they weren't working, and she wasn't actively seeking exploring and getting lost in Kirkwall, they were both on the show floor drinking ale and playing cards. Eventually… Denier got it in his head that it was okay to touch her like this.

It was not.

She was uncomfortable with this level of touching at this frequency but she rather not punch him again and break her fingers. Once in awhile would be fine, but every day was nauseating.

Instead of heading back toward the Blooming Rose, Denier lead her elsewhere, following the small procession of dwarva toward the Merchant's District. Red flags waved and alarm bells clanged in her head. She wasn't allowed here. If the looks the Merchants had given her last time was any indication all those times.

Strangely though, today no one shot her a look, even though she was still wearing the red band on her arm that signified she worked in the Red Lantern District. She probably should have removed that before going to the Chantry. Stealthily, she undid the band and slipped it into her breast band, far from sight. Just to be safe.

"Where are we going?" She wanted to whisper but she caught sight of the large statues of the dwarves and passed into one of the buildings. Lena could not read any of the inscriptions. Not for lack of trying but she wasn't wearing her glasses. After her first two days she had deemed wearing them as a risk because it drew too much attention and the danger of breaking them was all too high given the nature of her work.

Besides she wasn't reading anything except road signs in Hightown, which were handwritten signs in Common and Orlesian. She thanked her mother for the broken Spanish she spoke and read and the two years of Italian she took in high school. The Latin based languages were not too different and she could pick apart the Orlesian. Common however was not completely foreign, if structured oddly. It was like English on crack… as if the English language wasn't already on crack.

The hall she stepped into was, by what she gathered, a guild hall with four tables, two on each side with one main table on a stage at the head of the hall like this was Hogwarts and she was walking into the Great Hall. Was she about to be sorted into a Dwarven House? For all she knew, this could be just that. Was she being inducted into a secret Dwarva cult? The only people around here were dwarves… so maybe?

Oh… no she spoke too soon. There were a few elves and humans about but that was about it. The room was mostly filled with the dwarva.

She followed the person in front of her, who happened to be Varric.

Not intentional at all.

She noticed something then, watching Varric's behind. Or rather she noticed a lack of something. Something very integral to Varric was missing. It felt wrong.

Where in the void was Bianca?

Her eye twitched as she eyed his empty back. He had no crossbow there. Not even hidden underneath his jacket. He wasn't even carrying it. She did however spot a collection of daggers at his belt which brought a fresh wave of panic and glee. Every time she notices daggers, certain things happen to her.

Yes, Varric please hold me against the wall with a dagger to my throat. Let me feel those arms of yours, let our chests press close and let me bury my face in your manly chest hair. The thought however sunk with the absence of Bianca. She wasn't as giddy.

Meeting Varric without Bianca was like meeting Batman without Nightwing. It was great, but you just wished Jason Todd was there to flirt with. It was the second most disappointing moment in her life now. The first being her first sexual encounter, but she rather not think about that disaster.

The entire meeting with Varric now felt... less than stellar. She sighed as she sat down at the table Varric and Denier were sitting at.

The tables which were laden with plates upon plates of food. She started. Was she allowed here? Was she supposed to pay to get in here? Nervous, she eyed her two companions who both gave her confused looks.

Lena was one second away from asking before a chuckle to her left answered her. "Women, sit over there, little lady." The deeply grumbled tones of one Bartrand Tethras told her.

She knew it was Bartrand because Varric greeted him, albeit begrudgingly and with a roll of his eyes.

"S-sorr- y ." She faced the elder Tethras who took a step back upon seeing her. "Didn't know segregation of the sexes was a thing here." She snapped at him.

There seemed to be segregation in a lot of places in Kirkwall. By the classes, race, and now even gender. She didn't like it and she wouldn't abide by it, even if she had to stare down King Endrin. Or in this case, the most popular dwarf in Kirkwall dwarva society, as was the case.

"She's a stubborn one, Barty." Denier pipped up with a chuckle, and yanked her back down into the seat, this time next to him and once again squished between Varric and himself. She was going to have a stroke being this close to storyteller.

Bartrand grumbled but sat further down the table around a group who immediately began questioning him about his next party and whether his engagement to Lady Dace was yet finalized.

As it turned out, the guild hall they had all congregated in was filled because the dwarva met once a month to catch up on gossip and to have a decent meal, far away from the humans. Typically the Kalnas and Ascendants of the Merchants Guild of the city arranged it and so all dwarves were invited. Occasionally an elf or a human was allowed via invitation but not very often. There was food, drink, and music. Dwarves gossiping and laughing.

All of which was fine and dandy but Lena... Lena stuffed herself full with the assortment of food before her. Five weeks and she's coasted on by with thin meat stew, bread, cheese, and the occasional soft grapes and bruised apples and once, she came across some oranges which she inhaled. She still had the peel in her suitcase, the smell of it. But now... she had a full on meal. Her mouth watered, even as she loaded up her plate a second and third time and no one batted an eye.

There was braised ram ribs, roasted chicken, stuffed nug, deep mushroom pie. Roasted turnips garlic and celery. Lentils and peas, carrots in a buttery glaze. There was at apple cider, peach cider, and something that tasted suspiciously like pumpkin cider. There was an assortment of wine, and far too many kinds of dwarven ale that she decided to taste every single type in a small cup, until Denier filled a goblet for her and shoved it her way.

She felt tipsy after one goblet. It'd been years since she could actually get a buzz on normal alcoholic beverages but Dwarven ale sent her tittering in her seat. Denier drank in excess with her, the two of them paying no mind to how Varric refrained from keeping up with them, instead he watched them amused over the rim of his solitary goblet.

A few other dwarves joined them, all male who looked amused at Lena's presence. A bard picked up a tune that had dwarves asking ladies to dance, a raucous boom of laughter of activity filled the hall.

She was on her seventh goblet of ale and hadn't gotten up, despite denier asking her to dance. Based on how she was rocking while sitting, dancing didn't seem like a great idea with her two left feet. So she clung to Varric's side who snickered at her.

"You're really very pretty, Varric." She tried to say but it came out more like "I'd sit on your face." Someone howled next to her and banged on the table. Was it at her expense? She wasn't sure, she just knew that Varric was chuckling and trying to pull something from his jacket. Her fingers ran up and down the leather of his jacket, jealous of the quality.

Varric hummed appreciatively. "Would you now? I've been told I'm quite the charmer but I never had any woman just throw themselves at me like this."

"Must be the chest hair." Lena angled her head down and reached a hand where Varric let her pet it and she giggled, face red. "It's magical... I can't help it."

"I'm afraid it's just a well kept chest."

"Hmmm dwarven magic's a thing though. Wouldn't be surprised." She mumbled laying her head on his shoulder. "Your magic is in your words. Weaving tales and painting mental pictures. Varric the artiste. I have so much to learn..." Lena sighed.

"Didn't peg you for a fan-"

"Tch... course I am. Varric... the rogue, storyteller and unwelcome tagalong." Lena mumbled. "S'too bad Bianca isn't around... then it'd be a real party." She gave him a grin even as he tensed. "Magnificent crossbow..." Lena sighed.

"What do you know about crossbows?" Varric drew her closer, arm wrapped around her shoulders tightly.

Sipping her water slowly, she regarded him. "Not much...Not a smith." She hiccuped and covered her mouth as she giggled.

"How about we take this somewhere a little more private." Varric helped her up.

"What... oh. Oh . Master Tethras... I may work in the Rose but I'm not a whore." Lena wagged her finger at him as he led her out of the guild hall and into the late afternoon light.

"Never said you were." He sounded amused.

"But you know... I think I'd make an exception just for you. Free to boot... can I pet your chest again?" She babbled and Varric laughed.

"Sure thing, Babbles." Varric's voice said into her ear lowly. She shuddered and grinned, suddenly excited to get to this somewhere private he was leading her toward.

Unfortunately for her, being awake for a solid twenty four hours in addition to the amount of ale in her, left her half asleep by the time Varric led her wherever he did. She barely registered a wooden man hanging upside down and the fact she had needed his help climbing down and up stairs. After that, she really couldn't tell you what happened.

I really have to admit, I am having fun writing this. I get to make fun of myself and imagine how I'd act with the characters. It's a win-win! Let me know what you guys think! is it good? Is it funny? Are you fed up with my self-insert yet?

SNicole25: "beautit friendship?" - Was that intentional? Please tell me it was. Because I hollered much too loudly when I saw it. And to answer you, yes Lena has met Sebastian before he's taken his vows, so technically still his wild years. Remember he did go through a "reflection" phase before taking his vows, so plenty of time to play. -waggles eyebrows-