Warnings: Smidge bit of language and the removal of clothes. Nothing major.

Flash Back

"The places I let you people take me…"

Seated at Varric's table, Sebastian glanced around the upper floor of the Hanging Man with obvious distaste. Lip curled, he flicked at a dubious lump of… something on the stained wood, sending it skittering off onto the already filthy floor.

"Oh come on, Choir boy. It's just one game of Wicked Grace. You said you wanted to 'get to know us' better, so what better way?"

The Prince sniffed with a little disdain. "Figures that wanting to get to understand a group of hooligans would lead to gambling. I don't gamble."

At the other end of the table, chair leant back and boots up, Isabela scoffed. "Well that figures. That's half the fun of the game."

"Gambling is deplorable."

The scrape of her boots as she drew them down to the floor. With a feral grin, Isabela leaned forward, elbows on the table to frame the show of her ample cleavage. "Oh come on. I've heard the stories about you. You cannot tell me you've never gambled."

A hint of red on his cheeks, Sebastian did an admirable job of keeping his eyes on her face. She had a feeling half of his glaring was simply to narrow his range of vision to make the task easier. "That is a life that I have left behind."

A pout of her lips. "Come now, even Chantry boys can have a little fun."

His frown drew sharper and she sighed. Her arms folded, palms slapping down on the table with her disappointment. "Fine. Have it your way then."

"Think you can read the cards this time, Broody?"

Fenris snorted. "I can read just fine."

Isabela barked a laugh. "Now maybe, but have you learned which order the numbers go in yet? Or has Hawke not gotten to math yet in your little 'tutoring lessons'?"

The dirty implications there did not go unnoticed. Fenris scowled. "I know how to count, woman. All she does it hand me a book, so you can keep your mind out of the gutter."

Undeterred, Isabela flashed a grin. "I have a few books she could suggest to you. Two of you could probably learn a lot from those."

Slightly red faced, Fenris snatched the deck from Varric's hands and began passing out the cards. "No gambling," he muttered. Pleased with herself, Isabela took her hand and returned to her earlier balancing act on the back legs of her chair.

It was only a matter of time, seconds really, before alcohol became involved. After the first several attempts they stopped bothering to offer the bottle to Sebastian who glared at it with offense. Varric shook his head in humorous dismay. "You must lead a dull life, Choir boy. No gambling, no drinking, and a vow of chastity."

Even with her lips around the bottle of wine, Isabela managed to look suitably horrified. Sebastian snorted softly, never taking his eyes off his hand.

"One does not need vices to enjoy life. It took me some time to come to that realization, but I find I have come to appreciate life better without them."

Varric shrugged and took another quick swig of his own drink. "To each his own."

Yet, as the game dragged on, Isabela sank lower and lower in her seat. "This is dull. Where's the excitement!? The adrenaline? That on the edge of your seat fear as you put everything on the line? Come on. Can't we at least bet with beans? … Or better yet, clothing." She grinned cattily.

"These robes belong to the Chantry, they aren't just mine to give away."

The Pirate tossed up her hands. "Always something with you."

"What if we don't bet the clothing to one another, but simply the right to wear it? Would that appease the both of you?" Varric suggested.

The instant gleam on Isabela's face said she was already hooked. Sebastian looked far less appealed. The bridge of his nose wrinkled. "Strip Wicked Grace? Are you serious?"

"I won't even need to guess the color of Fenris' under garments!" Isabela crowed happily.

The already drunk Elf snorted with amusement. "Like that will stop you trying. Besides, who said you would get me that far?"

The idea of a challenge only sharpened Isabela's grin. Sebastian looked less and less willing to agree. Varric quickly stepped in.

"Look, we'll work it so that if you can choose what article you remove. Yes, Isabela, your bandana can count."

"Where's the fun in that?"

Her pout went ignored. "And only the person with the worst hand has to remove something. If you tie for worst, then both would have to remove something. You can't tell me you don't have a million layers to those robes. I know you Chantry folk have all that pomp and ceremony about every aspect of life."

Sebastian appeared to teeter on the edge. Warily, his eyes moved to Isabela, but she was too busy wiggling her eyebrows at Fenris and throwing out colors. He glanced at their tallied scores. So far, they were surprisingly mostly even. Varric hedged them out a little ways, but to his surprise, for being fairly out of practice with the game, Sebastian had held his own against Isabela and Fenris.

Perhaps… Perhaps it could not hurt.

With a heavy sigh, knowing he would most likely regret this, Sebastian caved. "Alright. If you insist."

And oh how dreadfully right he was…

It did not seem in any way possible, but somehow, alcohol only appeared to improve his opponents. He stared with dismay as once again, he lay down the worst of the losing hands.

"You're cheating…"

Varric laughed already sans his coat, gloves, and boots. "Really?"

"Oooo," Isabela cooed. "I win again! Someone is a sore loser."

"Not sore, merely perplexed as to how you can do better when you can hardly read the cards… Two of your wins were almost negated because you misread the numbers." Sighing, Sebastian slid his cards over to Varric to shuffle again. "I should never have pointed it out to you…"

The pirate was not put off. Her hand thrust out towards the priest, fingers curling repeatedly. "Come on! Pay up!"

He gave her a pained look, but slowly, peeled off his undershirt. He was down to only his pants and small cloths now. This was not going well, not at all.

Fenris had managed to only lose his gauntlets, which was a wonder, as Isabela was not incorrect with his sometimes failing ability to order the numbers correctly. Isabela had only lost her bandana and boots. The bandana had quickly been replaced with Sebastian's belt, much to his disapproval. All attempts to reacquire the belt were for naught.

His remarks that it was hardly appropriate for a woman of her kind to be wearing Andraste's face on her brow were met with, "And I'm sure the Maker loves you having the face of his Bride between your legs."

He had stopped trying after that.

"You know," Varric said with a gesture of his mug towards Isabela, "I'm shocked that you didn't go for the top right off."

"Come now, Varric. Where is the fun if you don't save the best for last?"

In teasing cheer, Varric raised his mug. "I'll drink to that."

"You will drink to anything," Sebastian muttered as he threw down yet another losing hand. They had to be cheating. There was no way he could go from holding his own to falling on his face so swiftly. Three more hands went down and three sets of inebriated eyes darted among the cards before Isabela crowed.

"Victory again for the Pirate Queen! Ha! Pay up, Choir boy!"

He scowled at her. Never had he hated a nickname quite this much and he had had quite a few colorful ones in his younger days. With a weary sigh, his pants joined the pile.

Varric's shirt was soon to follow, the Dwarf shaking his head with an amused smirk. "Might be eating my own words soon."

And…

"Absolutely not."

"Rules are rules!"

"I'm not stripping entirely naked."

"You agreed to the terms, Land Lubber! The Pirate Queen takes no prisoners!"

Her fist slammed on the table in mock rage, but Isabela was all feral grins. Ale sloshed and Fenris scowled, grabbing his mug before it could tip over as Varric protested the loss of "good" ale. One could hardly call anything served here as good, but it was all they had so the wise and the desperate did not complain.

"I am not getting naked in front of you… you… heathens!"

Isabela snorted. "Heathens? Really? That's the best you have? I've been called faaaar worse," she slurred.

"I recall Aveline calling you a whore on our last outing," Fenris muttered into his mug.

Brown eyes rolled. "Yes, because I've never heard that one before. Please. Whore's get paid, anyway."

Revulsion slackened Sebastian's jaw, but it tightened again quickly as Isabela leant around the table to try and nab his small cloths. "Hey!"

"Fenris! Phase through the table and grab them."

Even the Elf looked put off. "I am not using my marks to grab another man's underwear…"

"What good are they if not to steal people's clothing? … Do you think it's possible to phase just through the top layer of their clothes to take off their underwear? Or undo the hooks on a woman's breast band?" The sheer possibilities gleamed in her eyes. It was evident that Fenris was torn between being mildly horrified, offended, or amused. Varric thought he just looked constipated.

"Come on, Choir boy. Rules are rules. I'm nearly about to join you."

"Fine," Sebastian hissed.

More than one quizzical stare followed him as he rose and stormed into the side room that served as Varric's bedroom. Seconds later a pair of small cloths flew out to join the sad pile of his clothes. Mahogany hands flew up into the air with glee.

"Whoo!" Only to then crash onto the table with an indignant slap. "No! That's cheating!"

"Woman, will you stop jarring the alcohol?" Fenris growled. But he went ignored.

As dignified as he could manage, Sebastian reseated himself at the table… wrapped in only a blanket. "It is not cheating. Blankets do not constitute as clothing."

A guffaw erupted from Varric. "He's got you there, Rivaini."

"No he doesn't! That's just further proof that he's a dirty cheater!"

The Present

Armored hand raised, Aveline broke into the retelling. "Alright, wait, so far this only sounds like a usual night for all of you. Though, Sebastian is new… I'm shocked that you joined them, Brother."

Drawing the blanket around him tighter, Sebastian scowled. "I was hoping to understand what drives them, to get to know the 'people' of the city better so that I may help them more appropriately… Foolishly I let my guard down. I should know better than that with this group by now."

The look Aveline gave him was sympathetic.

"Sadly, however, this would not be my first time running outside in only a blanket," Sebastian sighed.

Sympathy flew out the window. Aveline's eyebrows shot up to her leather headband. "I'm sorry, what?"

Her voice was nearly lost under Isabela's at the Rivaini pirate perked up excitedly in her corner. "You? In a blanket before? Oh, please, do tell. I need to hear this story."

Teeth gritted, Sebastian leaned around Hawke to growl at the tanned woman. "Absolutely not."

"It was an ordinary night," Varric declared loudly over the group before they could derail further. "… At least until Hawke came in with Merrill."

"Tea!" the Elf cried, throwing her hands up. Hawke blinked in startled alarm as Merrill's hand slapped into her face.

Varric tried to arch his back, tipping his head to glower in Merrill's general direction. "Whatever that was, it was not tea. …As I was saying…"

Chapter 2 – In which Merrill has Varric try some… 'tea'.