A/N: OKAY SO I now am at the point where I temporarily cannot stop writing. So please consider this my continued apology for the earlier lack of updates! I hope you enjoy! I don't own Dragon Age.


"There she is!" Varric shouted as Hawke and Fenris strode into the Hanged Man. The mage offered Varric a warm smile, waving a bit.

"I hear you've been holding out on me, Varric. Throwing a party without telling me ahead of time!" she laughed.

"Oh, you like it," the dwarf chuckled throatily. "Come on in and find a place to sit. Broody too."

As they crossed the room, moving toward their usual table—the only one in the common room large enough to fit their entire group—Hawke glanced around. There were no other patrons in the bar tonight. Varric must have rented out the whole place for the occasion. As she was about to sit, though, a hand clamped onto her arm.

"What do you think you're doing?" Isabela asked, staring at her incredulously. The pirate swayed a bit. Apparently the late arrival of her fearless leader had not discouraged the dark-skinned woman from drinking.

"Uh… sitting?" Hawke asked timidly.

"In that?" Isabela jabbed her free hand toward Hawke's dress.

The mage flushed. "I like it."

"Well sure, it's pretty. But this is a party! You need to loosen up! Let your hair down. See?" she asked, waving Merrill over. The elf smiled and approached and Hawke was taken aback at how well Merrill cleaned up. Sure, she was always pretty with those big doe eyes and delicate features. But under Isabela's guidance, the Dalish elf was absolutely beautiful.

"Hello, Hawke. What do you think?" she asked, doing a little twirl. She'd taken her dark hair out of its numerous tiny adornments and instead wore a crown of pale yellow flowers in her hair. Her dress, too, was a sunshine-yellow in colour, bringing out the depth of colour in the elf's eyes. The cut was perfectly suited for her—right between delicate and provocative. It bared her collarbone and shoulders while still keeping her bust modestly covered, and it was fitted down to her hips where the fabric flared outward. It ended just above the knee, showing off Merrill's legs without being gaudy.

"Merrill, you look gorgeous!" Hawke exclaimed, grasping the elf's hands. For once, she didn't have to fake her enthusiasm.

Smiling, her cheeks pink, Merrill bounced lightly on her heels. "D'you—d'you know when Carver will get here?" she asked in a hushed voice.

Hawke winced at that. She'd suspected there was attraction between Merrill and her brother, but with Carver joining the Order… "Ah… did he not mention anything about…"

"About joining the Templars? Oh, he did. He came by to tell me while you and the others were still gone. But he said he would look out for me," the elf replied, turning even redder, "and that he'd be here tonight."

Hawke felt her mouth go dry. After their falling out this afternoon, she didn't know if she wanted to see Carver so soon. But she couldn't very well say so. And so, she turned her attention to Isabela. "I hate to disappoint, but I don't have any clothing that nice."

"I figured as much. That's why Kitten and I went shopping for you while you were gone! C'mon!" Isabela grinned, dragging Hawke toward her room. Merrill started to follow, but Isabela waved her away. "Oh, you go wait for your big strong Templar." She cooed. Hawke found herself laughing as she and the pirate entered her room.

"Alright, we weren't sure what you'd like, so we took our best guess."

"Thank you, Isabela." Hawke said with a smile.

"What are friends for?" she chuckled, tossing a dress onto the bed for Hawke's approval.

Hawke stopped and stared at it. Black fabric with a sweetheart cut to the top. Sleeveless. Floor-length, by the looks of it, and with a slit in the right side that would probably run all the way up to the hip.

"But wait, there's more!" Isabela cheered, and a red corset with delicate black needlework in the shapes of swirling flowers and vines sailed onto the bed as well. "You'll wear that over the dress. You like red, right?"

"Well, yes, but—" she flushed nervously. It was certainly a lot flashier than anything she was used to.

The pirate whirled, resting her hands on her hips. "But what? You want to catch his eye, right?"

Hawke stared, blank-faced. "Whose?" she forced out with a tiny laugh.

"Oh, don't play innocent with me. I know these things. I realized your brother had it bad for Merrill before he did. And you've been even less subtle. I can hardly blame you though. That lean body. That deep voice and those dark eyes. That brooding demeanor, the intense gaze…" Isabela purred as she whirled Hawke around and whipped her dress up over her head, tossing it onto the bed. "I hear he still wears the shackles from his bondage under his clothes."

Hawke reddened as she felt Isabela tugging the black dress down over her head. "He does not!"

"So you've seen under his armor?" the pirate squealed, spinning the startled mage around and giving her a sly grin. "You are quick, you naughty girl. So how was it?"

"No! No, we haven't—nothing like that!" Hawke sputtered as she smoothed the silken fabric down over herself. "I just… saw him without a shirt on. After a bath." She mumbled.

"When?"

"Today."

"You mean just before you got here?" Isabela demanded, going for the ornate corset and putting it on Hawke. She deftly began doing up the laces with a red ribbon.

"Yeah, why? I mean it wasn't weird or anything. He was just kind of there."

"There and shirtless."

"Yeah."

"You do realize nobody has ever seen him without that armor before, right? He must trust you. He has to like you."

Hawke wasn't so confident. "I think he just sees me as a friend—and—and I mean that's fine! He's a wonderful friend. Frankly, considering I'm a mage it's a miracle he tolerates me."

"Well, regardless of what he thought of you before—and I don't think you're giving yourself enough credit… he's definitely going to see you as more than a friend tonight." Isabela grinned as she pulled hard on the laces of the corset, tightening it.

Hawke sputtered. She'd never worn a corset before, and the sensation was not a pleasant one. Her insides felt as if they were being squeezed together, which she supposed made sense because they were. "Do—do you really think so?" she asked as she tried to get used to breathing with the corset tightened.

Isabela spanked the mage, earning a squeal of alarm from Hawke, as she went to find some jewelry. "Look here, I happen to be an expert at how these things work. How much experience have you had in the bedroom?"

"Uhm… none?" Hawke replied gingerly as she smoothed out the fabric of her skirt.

The pirate returned, carrying a choker made of a red ribbon and adorned with numerous tiny rubies dangling in looping chains. She fastened it around Hawke's neck and then immediately set to work putting makeup on her. Hawke had never work makeup much, but she endured the process. At last, Isabela went to work on styling her hair for her, helped her into a pair of black shoes with high, tapered heels and more tiny rubies as embellishments, and then released her. "Have a look in the mirror."

Hawke shifted, balancing carefully in the heels, and looked at herself. The woman staring back at her—she wasn't sure who it was. Noel Hawke was a tiny, skinny mage with average looks and a tendency to duck her head. This woman was… was her if she had Merrill's natural beauty and Isabela's stunning confidence and appeal. Auburn hair, glossy in the soft lighting, spilled onto her shoulders in gentle waves, framing her face. Her eyes stood out, long-lashed and lined with kohl. Her lips looked fuller, somehow, and were a rich red colour. The dress and corset did wonders for her figure, showing her off in a way that her modest robes never could—revealing her bustline, a peek of cleavage, making her waist look even more dramatically narrow as it tapered to her wide hips.

"Isabela…" she whispered, and the reflection's lips moved, too.

"You're beautiful." The dark-skinned woman smiled, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Let's go downstairs."