Warnings: Mild implications of drug use. More naked priests. Nothing serious.

Flashback

In the time it took for Isabela to finally relent and let Sebastian keep the blanket, also known as the time Varric spent nearly an hour trying to mediate the heated debate between a pirate and a priest, Fenris had gone to the bar nearly four times.

"Are you sure your heart doesn't just pump alcohol? How are you not dead? Hell, how can you still walk?" Varric wondered.

Fenris glanced at his half empty mug, shrugged, and returned to drinking. Isabela was pretty far into her own set of drinks, the game half-forgotten at this point. "Ish a talent," she declared.

Somewhere down in the main room, a familiar voice nearly wailed Varric's name. Isabela swiveled to grin at Fenris. "Your pretty birdy is here." Irritable eyes narrowed at her over the edge of his wooden mug.

Moments later, Marian Hawke entered, half helping and half restraining Merrill. "Varric… Help," Hawke huffed.

Ginger blonde brows shot up. "Daisy? Are you…?"

"Baked," Hawke growled. "Some ass sold her 'tea' and after she steeped a cup or two I found her trying to bake her whole house to 'induce visions'."

Isabela fairly roared with laughter. "She's high? On tea?"

Hawke sighed. "No tea I've ever heard of… Then she decided to get more and start using it like incense. When I find that merchant…" None so subtle threats were muttered beneath her breath.

The help she was hoping for was perhaps… not so helpful. Isabela was clearly near her limit and Fenris, while still going, would soon be regretting it once the food in his stomach digested. The amused shakes of his head did not leave her much hope for Varric and Sebastian simply looked harassed.

"… You're all trashed… aren't you?"

"What clued you in?" Sebastian muttered with a gesture to two dozen mugs littered around their table of scattered cards.

"… Are you in only a blanket?"

"Bahahaha!" For a drunk, Isabela was surprisingly well balanced. Her chair rocked back to a degree that Hawke figured would send her crashing down, but she held it as she rode out her fit of laughter. Against her side, Hawke could feel Merrill giggling helplessly with the other woman.

"Aw look at her, she's so cute though," Isabela cooed as she rocked to her feet. Merrill was only half her destination though.

Hawke sighed as she readjusted Isabela's hand from her rear. "Hello Isabela…"

In only a matter of minutes Hawke found herself stuck in a game of "handsies" with Isabela. Fingers interlaced, their hands wavered around in the air as Isabela attempted to get them closer and Hawke further away. Not truly bothered by it, Hawke watched with amusement as Isabela leaned in, trying to snag a kiss.

"I see you've enjoyed your evening." It went unnoticed when Merrill bounced away to go pester Varric.

The Dwarf was forced to give up his rooting on of Isabela when he found a pouch of leaves presented to him. "Tea!" Merrill chimed, her voice sing song.

Tea. Varric hated tea. It might have had a chance, if only his mother had not tried to make it the only thing they ever drank. She disapproved when Varric and Bartrand had taken to using alcohol instead of water to steep it. Alcohol did absolutely nothing to improve the flavor, most likely making it worse, but when one was drunk enough you stopped noticing things like flavor.

But with the way Daisy was smiling at him, it would be rude to refuse. A little tea could not hurt, he supposed. Never let it be said that Varric Tethras had willingly disappointed a beautiful lady.

Dubious, Fenris watched Varric accepted a handful of the leaves. "Are you sure that's a good idea? Wasn't Hawke implying that's not tea?"

"It's probably fine. You know Daisy. She gets hyper off of an excess of fresh air."

"Accepting anything from a known blood mage is not wise."

"Here we go again," Varric muttered. One leaf was picked up and pressed to his tongue. Earthy and not the most enjoyable, but also not the worst tea he had ever put in his mouth.

Merrill frowned and practically slapped his hand up to his mouth. "Only helps if you eat all of it!"

"Oi, hold on, yeesh. Let a Dwarf sample it first. There's an art to this, or some shit like that…"

"Oh yes," Fenris drawled teasingly. "I wager you know so much about the art of tea."

"I know enough to know I generally detest the stuff. Mother had a habit of buying it in vast quantities once she heard it was all the rage among human nobles. Can't live among the Dwarven nobility in Orzammar? Why not suck up to the humans!" he declared with scathing slurred sarcasm.

With a scoff, Fenris shook his head. "The human nobles don't even know what they want."

"You can say that again," Varric muttered and finally tossed back the handful of leaves at Merrill's repeated insistence. Face screwed up in disgust, he smacked his lips. "Uch. It's even worse when dry. Sorry Daisy, but this stuff is awful. Take it back to the vendor and demand your money back."

"Of course it's awful, you don't eat tea," Fenris rumbled.

"You ate random leaves that may have gotten her high!?"Sebastian squawked. "You people are utterly immoral."

"Says the priest in a blanket," Varric laughed. With a roll of his eyes he snagged another pinch, flicking them at Sebastian. "It's tea, relax."

Current state forgotten for a moment, Sebastian threw up his hands. "She said it might be tea! This is why drinking is a horrible habit! Your judgment is clouded." As the blanket banded around him rapidly began to slip down he hunched, immediately snapping his hands back to the fabric.

"Sure sure," Varric uttered, obviously having phased the lecture out. He was currently watching Isabela attempt to get Hawke into nothing but a blanket as well. "Shouldn't you be doing something about that?"

Bleary green eyes slid his way. "And why would I do that?"

"Aren't you two…?" A few indecent gestures of Varric's hands had Sebastian storming away in disgust. But Fenris looked more torn than uncomfortable.

"It's complicated."

"Uh huh… Admit it, you half want Isabela to succeed." Another few pinches of leaves were pressed into Varric's hand. He gave Merrill a despairing look, but she only chirped for him to eat them. While Fenris raised his mug little higher to half cover his face, Varric forced down another mouthful of the foul blend Merrill had purchased.

"Didn't say that," Fenris muttered.

"Ha! Words aren't always necessary, Broody. You two are—Oi!"

In a bumbling attempt to get away from the rather large sword that cut through the air, Varric threw himself out of his chair. Merrill squeaked as her pouch of leaves was knocked away. Varric however, was not the unfortunate target.

With a yelp, Sebastian hopped back as Fenris' blade buried itself in the floor between him and the dresser where his clothing had been stored on top. "You gave us your word, priest. I expect you to keep it."

Both furious, and mildly terrified, Sebastian gaped at the Elf. "The game is over!"

Undaunted, Fenris stared him down. "It's not over until we agree it's over. Cards are still in play on the table."

"In play!? They're scattered everywhere! We don't even know whose hand is whose anymore!"

"My floor! I have to pay for that you know!"

A pouch was proffered. "Tea helps soothe nerves."

It was around that time that Hawke managed to subdue Isabela enough to realize that Merrill had left her side. The offered pouch and the growing dilation of Varric's eyes were not unnoticed. "Merrill, no! Damn it! Stop feeding those to people! I don't even know what that is!"

Eyes wide, Merrill grabbed Varric. "Quick, the paints and tea pot are back at my house."

Unsteady on his feet and yet oddly light feeling, Varric could only put up mild protests as Merrill shooed him to his feet and out the door. "I can't leave! Fenris is turning my floor into kindling! This place may be a dive, but that's not cheap you know!"

"We can ask the bunny god for aid! To the paints!"

"Merrill! No! Come back! Isabela! Will you get off?" Hawke scowled at the woman that was half draped over her.

"Mmmm no." The words purred out like a satisfied cat. But it was not long before Isabela's happily squinting expression twisted into a frown. "Wait… Varric left… He's almost lost."

Her eyes flared before they narrowed with fury. "That coward! He ran out on our game! Hey! This game isn't over yet, Dwarf!"

"Isabela, wha—hey!"

Mercifully, Hawke found herself unhanded, but only long enough for Isabela to dart over to snatch Sebastian's clothing from the dresser before smacking Hawke on the rear as she passed to hurry out the door. Hawke pressed her face into her hand. "Why do I bother?"

"Woman! Bring my clothing back!"

And there went Sebastian… hobbling down the stairs… in a blanket. Hawke cast a trying look at Fenris who did not bother to return it. Instead he threw back the last of his ale before wrenching his sword from the floor. He stalked past Hawke with a growl, "He gets nothing back until this game is over."

The Present

"I should have just left you assholes to get arrested," Hawke grumbled.

The smile on Aveline's face was knowing, if not tested. "Hawke, you can never stay out of anything. Five years here and somehow you've become involved in every major case, and quite a few minor ones, that I've dealt with."

Harassed, Hawke gave her friend a flat look. "I had three drunks, one of which was high, a naked Priest, and a high Elf running lose on the streets. I knew you'd blame me anyway for whatever they got into."

"Blame you!?" Aveline crossed her arms in indignation. "I do no such thing."

Unblinking, Hawke held her stare, eyebrows shifting up bit by bit with each second. Eventually Aveline had to cave, expression both guilty and contrite.

"Well… Maybe I do sometimes."

"Uh huh… Well, regardless, I found them again in the Alienage. Merrill had already started in on the damn paints…"

Chapter 3 – In which Isabela finds a new use for Sebastian's clothes and Hawke says 'fuck it'.