No, I didn't forget about this story ... sorry for the delay...

It started with a kiss part 25: featuring two flabbergasted people and one very embarrassed Viscount

Viscount Dumar restlessly shuffled the papers lying on the desk in front of him. Nervously his eyes swivelled from the sombre-faced dwarf, dressed like an eccentric carnival, to the angry looking woman, dressed like the embodiment of wild, sweltering sex. With might and main he fervently tried not to stare at all those sultry curves on display. It was a hopeless endeavour in advance. He fingered the collar of his ceremonial robe and felt a few drops of sweat trickling down his neck. Again he shifted his attention to the dwarf who kept attempting to peek at the official papers, and so he turned them upside down, giving him a stern look which, evidently, made no impression at all.

'What the hell is taking them so long!' exclaimed Isabela. It wasn't the first time she uttered the sentence and, worse, with every new time she sounded more aggravated. And, even worse, brought out a hipflask to take a draught of something that, by the pungent smell of it, was the most strong and foul rum ever distilled. It didn't do much to ease Dumar's nerves; it made him only long for a swig himself, preferably licked from the breasts of – He couched nervously. It sounded as if he got strangled by a boa constrictor.

At that same moment, just before his tension snapped, the door swung open and the happy bride and groom strode into the office. They looked as innocent as a blank sheet of paper. But to the observant onlooker a light flush on both their faces revealed that said blank sheet could be filled in with, well, hot actions.

'Finally!' Isabela cried out. Irritably she waved with her flask in their direction. 'What was so damned important that you kept us waiting for half a day?!'

Without missing a beat Marian answered, 'We couldn't decide on the best position, so we tried them all. Never knew there were so many, took us more time than we expected. Sorry about that.' She gave the stunned pirate an unperturbed look, though she couldn't entirely hide a naughty twinkle. 'You should have placed bets.'

Fenris tried to stick to his cool and collected composure. It was hard.

Marian's attention swivelled from Isabela to Varric and a grin tugged at a corner of her mouth. 'My, you have spared no expense to humour us. I must say I'm flattered. And impressed. My dear Isabela, that dress, or should I say napkin, shoots right through the borders of obscenity to end up on the stylish side of fashion. How do you manage it! And where did you dig up that, er, eye-tormenting costume, Varric? Did the Guild of Fools have a summer sale? Or is it an heirloom from some since long deceased ancestor? The Funny Uncle type?'

Indignantly Varric drew himself up to his full height, which wasn't much, but his haughty expression made more than up for that shortcoming. 'I'll have you know that this is the official ceremonial full dress of the Merchant's Guild that I have, hitherto, refused to wear at all occasions. So, yes, you should feel flattered. In fact, you should feel no less than honoured.'

The Viscount ostentatiously cleared his throat. 'Since we're all gathered at last, shall we commence with the ceremony?' He wanted to get it over with as fast as possible so he could flee to his private rooms and have a cold bath. A very long very cold one.

Hawke turned to him with her sweetest smile, which was quite an achievement, since she had spilled such a substantial amount of honey during the past few days already that it was a sheer wonder her blood sugar level hadn't dropped dangerously low. 'By all means.'

The man, on his account, gave her a quivering smile back. He was definitely at the end of his tether, what with fighting off a too inquisitive dwarf and battling the sexual tensions the pirate queen had stirred up. And with knowing what was about to happen. He looked down at the documents on his desk, turned them upright so he could actual read them, looked back at his audience, scraped his throat once more, eyed Hawke who gave him an encouraging wink, and started speaking. All the way Hawke silently prayed he would keep his wits together. Before their friends would catch the message and would run off to leave them empty-handed.

After a bunch of hollow words, sounding pompous but meaning little, Dumar finally came to the point. 'If you would be so accommodating as to sign here,' he said with a strained smile, indicating Varric and Isabela. He shot a desperate look at Hawke. 'Because you are the witnesses, you have to sign first,' he managed to explain.

The dwarf and the pirate queen looked at each other, plainly not at ease. 'Why first?' Varric demanded to know, and his whole attitude broadcasted he didn't buy this unexpected turn of events. 'Why not the bride and groom? I'm pretty sure that's the right procedure.'

Marian tensed and saw their brilliant plan shatter to pieces. She knew Dumar had been the flaw in her plan, but had hoped he wouldn't mess up as splendidly as he did now. What was he thinking, letting them sign first?! The blighted idiot!

But then the Viscount took up courage, strengthened by the knowledge he had endured more than enough from the illustrious couple that eyed him suspiciously, and that this was payback. He stood straight and explained, and his voice made clear there would be no room for a counter-attack whatsoever, 'Because the Laws of Kirkwall say so.' He straightened his shoulders some more and added daringly, 'I can't imagine a sophisticated Gentleman of the Stone doesn't know that fact. Or a well educated Queen of the Waves, for that matter. I was under the impression you both were familiar with the laws of out treasured city.'

Hawke let out an inaudible sigh of relief; right now she could kiss the man. Who could have thought Viscount Dumar would have that much imagination..? Or bravery, in point of fact?

Or was scared to death by the murderous glare in your eyes, which made him fly, was Fenris's explanation, much later.

What counted, at this moment, was that both Varric and Isabela swallowed their objections and obediently took the quill and signed the contract.

'And what do you think you're doing?'

Aveline's probing Guard-Captain's voice, drenched with natural authority, froze Anders's hand, already on the door handle and in the process of pushing the door open. He stiffened, suddenly feeling like a little mageling, caught in the middle of committing some mischief by an austere and bad-mooded Templar. Slowly he turned around, to come face to face with an impressive collection of ornamental steel, pretending to cover more exquisitely developed muscles than even Aveline possibly could boast, draped with a too bright sash sporting the coat of arms of Kirkwall and dripping with tassels, above which a pair of severe eyes made him shrivel even more.

'She can't marry him,' he managed against all odds, be it croaking. 'It would the biggest mistake of her life.'

Aveline didn't budge. In fact, her look became even more severe. 'Even if that were true, and I definitely doubt it, you still would have no right to prevent, or even disturb, the celebration of their marriage. Step away from that door. Now.' She gave the impression she was handling a dangerous criminal, running rampant on whatever drug he had been snorting or smoking or injecting and who was waving a loaded crossbow at random to boot. He balked and wanted to protest. Loudly.

And only then he became aware of a host of guards behind Aveline's back, standing neatly in line and all decked out in shiny, near blinding, armour and all of them with drawn swords. For one crazy moment he thought they were about to take him captive, until it crossed his mind they must represent some kind of Guard of Honour for the married couple. The insight didn't anything to lift his mood, rather the opposite. The balking part took over. He clenched his jaw in an effort to resist Aveline's overwhelming steadfastness. 'And how do you think to prevent me from going inside and carry out my intension?' he said defiantly.

Before Aveline could react, and she had a good whack around the ears in mind, there sounded a blood-curdling scream from inside the Viscount's office. Without thinking she pushed the mage out of her way and barrelled inside. She already opened her mouth to demand an explanation, but closed it abruptly when her eye fell on the outlandish tableau.

Viscount Dumar had stumbled backwards and now clung unto the heavy curtains for dear life, with an expression of pure horror spread on his face. That very life got threatened by Varric, who was about to pounce upon him with a determined posture that made clear he would gladly sacrifice his whole career of both Storyteller and merchant to end the man's existence, all the while shouting all kinds of dwarven swearwords no-one understood but that were intimidating and comprehensible enough without subtitles. On the other side of the room Fenris was holding Isabela's arms in a firm grip in an attempt to keep her from flying at Hawke's throat. The pirate viciously fought back.

'You fucking bitch!' she screeched at the top of her voice, which needed no subtitles at all.

A few minutes earlier...

Fenris gracefully signed his name and stepped back to stand beside Marian. 'This brings back memories,' he smiled crookedly. 'Perhaps we can go camping later?'

'I knew you secretly loved all the frolicking!' Varric grinned deviously, blissfully oblivious of things to come.

'Oh yes,' said Fenris, straight-faced, 'I can't imagine why I resented it for so long. Frankly, I can't wait to get in touch with my elven inner self once more. I'm even contemplating to become Dalish.'

Varric's merry expression faltered somewhat. 'No way. You're kidding me.'

Fenris smiled enigmatically. 'Who knows?'

The Viscount coughed politely. 'You may kiss the bride now.' He looked anxious but some sparks of the kindled fire of annoyance still lingered in his eyes.

Expectantly Varric and Isabela looked at the other pair. 'Well, go ahead,' Isabela spurred them on, 'don't worry, we've seen it all before. We won't faint at the sight, promise.'

Hawke gave her a bright beam, although the sugar that formerly had gushed from her face seemed to have changed into drops of poison.

'Actually,' she drawled, 'it is you who should kiss each other.' She held out her hand. 'May I be the first to formally congratulate you with your marriage? I hope it will be a prosperous and fruitful one and will last till death do you part.'

A heavy silence fell, pregnant with unrefined shock, sheer dread and fast approaching outbursts of fury.

'You didn't, you wouldn't,' stammered Isabela, the personification of terror. She staggered when the full blast of the betrayal hit her. She turned sharply and pointed an accusing finger at the Viscount. 'And you knew, you bastard! You played along all the way!' She let out a terrifying scream and was about to attack Hawke with clawed hands. If it hadn't been for Fenris's lighting fast reaction, she would have ripped her face off.

And back...

Resolutely Aveline dragged the seething Varric from the Viscount before he could do real harm, besides scaring the man shitless. Literally, she feared by the smell of it. She held the dwarf in an iron grip while she convinced herself Isabela was still sufficiently incapacitated by Fenris. 'Explain,' she snarled.

'Well,' began Hawke, the only one not occupied with restraining enraged people or attempting to conceal embarrassing flaws in the bowel department, 'in a nutshell it boils down to: they thought they were witnesses but now they're married.' She had retreated till she stood with her back against the door so she could keep an eye on both Isabela and Varric. And on the Viscount, should he suddenly try something bolder than hanging onto the curtains.

Aveline frowned. 'It sounds like the start of some dreadful ballade. One of the kind Lousy Poet would come up with.'

'I don't think you've been listening properly,' Hawke said, a little disappointed with Aveline's lukewarm reaction.

'Oh, but I have been listening. I'm just trying to get my head around it.' The Guard-Captain bit her lip in a desperate attempt to stop herself from bursting into a fit of laugher. She failed gloriously. It started with some badly suppressed titters but soon bloomed fully into loud and hearty guffaws. After a long minute of wallowing in shameless hilarity, she had to sit down and by doing so she forced Varric, whose wrists were still captured in her steel grip, more or less to kneel at her feet, an action that almost dislocated his shoulders.

'Calm yourself, won´t you,' he said crossly, 'it's not that funny.' He realised at the same moment that her behaviour involuntarily had taken the sting out of his seething anger. 'You can let go off me now,' he grumbled. And Aveline did, but only to use his shoulders as some kind of counterpoint so she wouldn't fall off her chair.

'This is priceless!' she managed between two bouts of hooting.

'Oh really? How do you figure?' Isabela ardently wished to know. She, just as Varric, had lost most of her fighting spirit due to the Guard-Captain's uncharacteristic behaviour.

Hiccupping Aveline pointed a finger at her. 'Because, because, you! Whore! Professional strumpet! Legally wed!'

Irritably Isabela shook Fenris off and said sharply, 'It wouldn't be the first time, you know, Captain Timid Maiden, and it didn't end well for the other party.' She continued darkly, indicating Hawke, 'In this case I'm thinking about changing my tactics and victim.'

Hawke folded her arms and jutted out a hip. 'It's all but your own fault,' she stated. 'The moment you tried to make Fenris and me believe we were married, you signed your wedding sentence.'

Varric freed himself from the Captain's embrace. 'So you found out,' he said flatly.

Marian regarded him as if he was retarded. 'Of course we found out! Who did you think you were dealing with?! It didn't take us, or rather Fenris,' she added conscientiously with a tiny smile at her lover, 'more than an hour to put two and two together. I must admit it was a nice touch, forging my own copy of the "Complete People's Laws of Kirkwall", but I'm afraid your work was for naught.' She turned to Aveline. 'Did you know about that?'

The Guard-Captain had the decency to look embarrassed while she wiped the tears from her eyes. 'I'm sorry, Hawke. I didn't know at first, not at that night at the Hanged Man. But things had already gone completely out of hand and I'm afraid I couldn't resist the dwarf's plea.' She took courage and heaved her shoulders. 'Not after I became suspicious and he explained what he had done. Not after the incident with the parade armour.' Her fierce demeanour wilted when she met Hawke's concrete stare. She hastened to add, 'But that doesn't mean I don't take responsibility.'

Hawke shook her head and looked very saddened. 'And here I was, trusting you like you were my own flesh and blood. I'd never thought you would sink so low. And me with helping you to get your love life straight and all.'

Aveline sagged and slumped back into the chair. 'I suppose I deserved that jab,' she murmured, suddenly appearing rather forlorn. She complete forgot about how the other side of "my own flesh and blood" had delivered her mercilessly into the claws of that atrocious dinner. Simply Hawke's eyes could manage that.

Hawke's face brightened up. 'Oh, come on. Don't fret. I suspected this all along. And if you hadn't conspired together, we would never have come up with this plan. This brilliant plan, if I may say so myself.'

'Yeah, really brilliant,' grumbled Varric.

Only now Anders dared to venture into the room. He got overtaken by a very concerned Donnic. 'Is everything alright Ave-, er, Captain?'

Hawke turned to him with a bright beam. 'Besides a notch in her confidence I believe she's right as rain.'

'I need a drink,' Varric announced. Wordlessly Isabela handed him her flask. 'I told you I had a bad hunch, but you wouldn't listen,' he complained.

'How was I supposed to know something like this would happen, husband?' groused Isabela before she snatched the rum back.

Anders looked puzzled. 'You, you are not married?' he asked tentatively, trying to get a hold onto the facts.

'We are married, you dumb nitwit!' Isabela snapped. She continued viciously, 'But your precious Hawke is still free to you clumsy and stupid advances. I recommend you take advantage of that right now, for as long as she's alive.'

'Don't even think about it,' Fenris rumbled threatening. It was meant as a warning for both Isabela and Anders, though he was well aware he didn't have to fear anything from either of them. The first he could keep in control with just a firm grasp, the latter would never stand a chance with Marian. Nevertheless, the mage ruffled his feathers, as he always did. Just his existence made his mood run sour. 'What are you doing here in the first place?'

Again Aveline burst into laughter. Helplessly she fluttered her hand. 'Preventing you two getting wed!' Apparently she was, apart from Hawke, the only one who saw the joke of the situation.

Fenris, busy with coping with his sudden annoyance, glared such malicious daggers at Anders that the mage actually staggered back. Anders, while making an effort at fencing off the elf's murderous glower, didn't know what to make of the turn of events and was not certain Hawke and the elf weren't married after all. Donnic wasn't convinced some lethal outburst was about to happen and looked like it. And Varric and Isabela were still too wrapped up in anger and shock to see the joke of anything at all. Possibly for a long time.

No-one paid Viscount Dumar any attention anymore and he seized the opportunity to sneak off and make a run for his private chambers, determined to stay in bath the rest of the day. He fervently prayed nobody had noticed his little mishap. He would never hear the end of it, especially if Seneschal Bran got wind of it; the quirt would never let it go.

Marian, desperately trying to stifle the merry laughter that welled up in her chest, walked over to her lover and laid a soothing hand on his arm. 'Let's go home,' she giggled. 'I think I'm in need of a strong drink after all the commotion.' She hooked her arm into Fenris's and started to lead him out of the room. Turing her head and looking over her shoulder she said to the rest of the company, 'In case you've forgotten: you're all invited to the party my lover and I will throw tonight. And, Varric, please do come. We have a little surprise for you.'

'Another bombshell?' groused Varric morosely. 'I don't think I can handle that.'

'You'll be amazed,' Marian promised.

She managed to keep a straight face all along the way to her mansion before she doubled up in the hallway, desperately clutching her belly.

Thank you all so much for your patience!

I hope the outcome wasn't too obvious; it's hard to judge when you make it up yourself.

Thanks again!