Hi everyone, in case anyone who was previously reading was wondering, I went through this story and edited a few things. The biggest example of this is that I changed my Hawke's name to Marian, because that's the default and honestly, the more I thought about it, the more I liked the ring of it. So... here we are! :)

"Hawke! Care for a game?"

"You must be joking. Anyone with a pair of functional eyes knows that you're a cheat, Bela."

Isabela laughed loudly and leaned back in her seat. She motioned toward Carver sitting on the opposite side of the table and replied, "You might want to check your brother's eyes, then, because I cleaned him out just before you got here. I was hoping to clean out both the mighty Hawkes, but I suppose just one will do." This last bit was said with a rather flirtatious wink.

Catching the banter, Marian simply smirked and replied, "Not tonight, sweetheart, but if I ever have a couple sovereigns I want to blow up, I know where to find you."

"I should hope so."

Taking a seat across from Isabela, Marian swung an arm around Carver's shoulder and asked, "What came over you to simply gift Isabela with your money, dear brother?"

Carver spluttered indignantly for a second, which only made both Marian and Isabela laugh. After regathering his wits, Carver defended himself with, "Merrill wanted to learn how to play, she wanted to watch!"

Marian blinked and glanced around the table. Somewhat amused, she said, "Then where is our favorite Dalish elf?"

At this query, Carver scoffed and began to respond, "She's sitting right—" He abruptly stopped when he realized that Merrill was, in fact, no longer at the table. Noting how his excuse had backfired, he sighed. "Well, she was right here."

"I believe you," said Marian, though she was shaking her head.

She took a glance around the Hanged Man, wondering if Merrill was nearby. The elf would likely be all right—according to Varric, she went on regular strolls through the viscount's private gardens and managed to leave them unharmed—but it would be a good idea to look anyway. All she could see, however, were a few patrons at the bar and empty chairs and tables.

That was when a disgruntled-looking Varric caught her eye. He was stomping towards them with Merrill in tow, and as he approached the table Marian was sitting at, he pointed at the bench next to her and said, "Merrill, sit."

"Oh, all right, no need to be so pushy," said Merrill, but she sat down next to Marian as requested. "Hello, Hawke!"

"Evening, Merrill," grinned Marian. She looked back up to the dwarf that was overseeing the Dalish elf's whereabouts and asked, "So where did she get off to this time, Varric?"

"Nowhere far. Just decided to take a little sojourn into my room. Managed to catch her before she could head back to the viscount's gardens again."

"The flowers are so lovely! I've told you before, why would he plant them if he doesn't want anyone to look at them?"

The others began laughing at the exchange; Marian noticed that Carver's cheeks had started to turn a light shade of pink—with a devious grin, Marian rose from her seat and moved across the table to sit with Isabela so Carver and Merrill might have the bench to themselves.

After she claimed her new spot, Marian gestured to the seat next to her. "Want to join us for a drink, Varric?"

Varric chortled, holding up his hands in protest. "Sorry, Hawke, but I've got some important business to attend to. Maybe later I'll be freed up." And without waiting for further debate, he turned and began to walk back to his room.

"Ugh, he's always busy," Isabela griped. "I needed his help with something."

Marian leaned forward. "Oh? What with? Perhaps I can be a substitute."

Isabela raised an eyebrow, her gaze traveling up and down Marian's body… not that that was anything new. "How sweet. But if it's you that's offering help, I might need to change my game plan a little."

Marian blinked and shuffled in her seat. The way that Isabela continued to appraise her made her feel like she was about to walk into something that perhaps she didn't want to.

Noting the change in atmosphere, Isabela laughed and swatted her shoulder. "Oh, don't fret, it's not that bad. I just might have to ask you to seduce someone. Briefly," she added at the startled look on Marian's face.

"Oh, this ought to be good," Carver muttered.

"And why exactly is that needed, Isabela?" Marian demanded. The thought of seducing some shifty pirate or Hanged Man patron was less than appealing.

Isabela chortled and leaned back in her seat again, apparently reveling in her friend's discomfort. "I just need you to distract a man for a moment while I sneak into his room. Rumor is that he has information on that important relic I'm keeping an eye out for, remember?"

Marian exhaled and ran a hand through her black hair. Hesitant still, she asked, "Any idea how long this might take, Bela?"

"No longer than ten minutes, but just long enough for things to be… fun."

The groan exited Marian's mouth before she could attempt to restrain it. Fortunately, the ex-pirate thought the sound amusing. She winked and began backing away from the table, saying, "He'll probably be out of his room in a few minutes—I'm going to sneak back in Varric's room and wait. I'll give you a signal when he's out, then you come in for the kill. Yes?"

"I suppose so," Marian replied, although she definitely felt less than ready. She hadn't had a one-night stand in years, and therefore might have lost some of her touch. Hopefully she wouldn't completely botch the operation… Carver would never let her hear the end of it if she did.

Before she could even ask for details about this person, Isabela had already disappeared, which meant the rest was already in Marian's hands. She looked back to Carver, who looked incredibly smug, to Merrill, whose eyes were wide. With remonstration, she muttered, "Wish me luck. If I'm going to do this, I need a drink. A strong one."

"Good luck!" Merrill cried.

Marian nodded and stalked to the bar, feeling like her bad karma was finally catching up with her. When the bartender asked what she wanted, she immediately answered, "The strongest thing you have." And when it was plopped onto the counter, she shot it down with one gulp.

Figuring that was the best she could do to remain functional, she sighed and waited for her target, leaning against the bar as she did so. For about five minutes she lingered before noticing a man with ebony hair emerge from the back rooms. As he approached, Marian could see that he was fairly tall, and his eyes were a dark brown color. A jagged scar ran across his left cheek and hooked towards his jaw. He wasn't unattractive, at least.

Marian glanced at the doorway and saw Isabela trailing him; she jut her chin towards the man, as if it wasn't already obvious enough that this was the person she needed distracted. After acknowledging the sign with a nod, she turned back to the bar, having bet that the man was on his way to drink.

She was right. The man ended up standing right next to her and ordered a shot of the tavern's most expensive whiskey.

Marian figured that alcohol could be a good way to introduce herself. "Make that a second one for me, too," she added to the bartender's back, who grunted in affirmation.

This was apparently enough to gather the man's attention. "Whiskey for you too, eh?"

"Beer doesn't quite get the job done, does it?"

A brief silence made her worry that she wasn't going to get a response—but after a moment, he exhaled through his nose and replied, "I suppose it doesn't."

"There you are, then," Marian grinned, although she still didn't face him. The old bait-and-switch: make them wonder, keep them interested.

At that moment, her drink appeared. Without a word, she picked it up and finished it off as easily as she had done the first… and then she waved for a third. Out of her peripheral vision, she saw the man's eyebrows raise.

"You know, I'd remember if I'd seen you before."

"Are you asking if I come here often?" Marian figured it was time to turn and face him completely; so she did. "If so, I suppose there's no harm in saying I'm around from time to time."

"I figured as much. I'd certainly remember you." The man's eyes remained upon Marian's face—there was an intensity to his person that she hadn't spotted from farther away. "Another shot? This one's on me."

His voice became smoother than before; while he hadn't made any move to signal that she was doing well, if she was right, she had him exactly where she wanted. "Well, I wouldn't say no to that."

The man smiled somewhat and ordered two more shots. After they arrived, he handed Marian hers and raised his small glass, offering cheers.

She returned it: together, they gulped down the drink.

When Marian slammed the glass back down onto the counter, she happened to glance over at the table Carver and Merrill sat at; something twisted in her stomach upon realizing they were now accompanied by Anders, Fenris, and Varric. Most of the men looked highly amused—save for Fenris, who was frowning somewhat—and Merrill was mouthing something that suspiciously looked like, Kiss him!

She just shot them all a sardonic glare before returning her attention to the man, who was in the middle of saying, "—bottle of wine in my room, if you'd like to crack that open with me."

Whilst she missed the beginning of what he was saying, she gathered the idea that he was offering to take her back to his room, and that was definitely not what she wanted seeing as Isabela was still in there. But she didn't quite know how to keep him entertained at the spot where he was at, and on top of it all, she was definitely starting to feel the effects of the alcohol.

Marian pouted somewhat, pretending to think. As she was scheming what next to say, Isabela reappeared, but she was frantically gesturing… it looked like she needed more time.

At Marian's lack of response, the man laughed and peered closely at her. "I get it: you want something. I should've known—all beautiful women do."

"I have no idea what you mean," Marian said, turning back to the bar and hoping her surprise wouldn't turn him away.

"I think you do." He placed a hand on the bar and leaned closer to her; even though she was fairly tipsy, Marian still had enough of her wits about her to know that if she weren't careful, things could get very ugly very fast.

So the safest option was to play his game. "All right." The only way to give Isabela the time she needed to finish her search was to keep him drinking. "Maybe I came here for a reason—to get stone-walled drunk."

The man laughed and removed his hand from the bar, which almost made Marian sigh in relief. "If that were all, you only needed to ask." Then he proceeded to order more shots.

Marian was only able to down two more before realizing that if she tried to walk, she would fall straight over. Everything was spinning, and to be quite frank, she was starting to want to sleep with this guy—

"All right, thank you, Hawke. Play time's over."

With these words, the man Marian had been flirting with for the past thirty minutes crumpled to the ground. Isabela stood above him, a scroll in her hand and a charmed smirk on her face.

"Dear Maker, didja killhim?" Marian hiccupped, gazing over his body. No one in the tavern seemed concerned by the fact that Isabela had just knocked him unconscious—it happened every other week, anyway.

"No, sweet thing, I just helped him to go to sleep. He'll be fine, and hopefully have no recollection of the past half-hour."

Marian laughed, although she winced at how slurred even that was. "Well that's good I guess. An' meanwhile these bastards were jus' watchin' me!" She loosely gestured to all of her friends sitting around the table, all of them with hopeless laughter on their faces.

"You know, Hawke, for a second there I thought you really were going to sleep with him," remarked Anders, shooting her a playful look.

Marian giggled. "So did I."

Varric and Isabela burst into laughter whilst Anders turned pink. Rather pleased with herself, Marian stumbled back to her original spot on the bench and exclaimed, "You owe me one, Bela! Take care of tha' guy for me, okay?"

"Sure, Hawke. Whatever you say."

Carver glanced at his sister and sighed. "Great. I have to take this back home to Mother. Is there any way you can cure drunkenness, Anders?"

Anders chuckled as he looked at Marian and shook his head. "Not through any magical means that I know of."

This prompted Carver to curse under his breath, but before he could say anything further on the matter of Marian's intoxication, Isabela leaned sideways against her and said, "You did well, Hawke. I appreciate the help. Turns out you have a knack for this sort of thing, eh?"

Marian laughed and leaned back in her chair. "This wasn't my first rodeo, Bela. Have a little faith."

"Oh? What's the story?" Isabela goaded, a bottle already pressed to her lips.

"I'm not telling, sorry to disappoint you," Marian returned. "But hey, if you think I did a good job, the res' of your opinions mean next to bloody nothin'."

Isabela giggled. "I'm flattered."

"Hey now, there's no criticism from here. I'm pretty sure your act would've worked on any of us," laughed Varric, shooting a haphazard grin to Anders and Fenris both.

Marian was aware that he was kidding, but she decided to at least put him on the spot for the joke. "Don't tempt me, dwarf."

He just laughed.