Poppy would admit that she had entertained fantasies about both Anders and Fenris – Anders, Fenris, Isabela, Merrill, Sebastian, and Varric, if she was going to be honest with herself. Aveline was exempt simply because Poppy was rather certain that Aveline would beat her over the head even in her fantasies, and she had never seen the appeal of masochism.
She told her inner monologuer to be quiet about the masochism of fighting templars, slavers, and oh yes, let's not forget high dragons. Her inner monologuer also had a tendency to get sidetracked by shiny things, which was how she managed to finally silence it in favor of staring.
Anders and Fenris had somehow taken the brunt of the Varterral's caustic spit and were stripping down to their smalls.
Thatwas shiny enough to distract even her inner monloguer from commenting on anything except the fact that they were both wearing…
…matching smallclothes.
And sneaking peeks at each other.
And when they both thought she was busy helping to reassure Varric that Bianca had not taken a mortal injury, she was certainshe saw Anders grab Fenris' backside.
Her inner monologuer was stunned to silence.
Her inner pornographic friend ficcer on the other hand, started screaming in glee.
"Varric?"
"I think her stock is scratched, and if you—"
"Varric!"
"—look right there you can see where the acid—"
She grabbed Varric by the lapels of his coat. "Bianca is fine! Give me a piece of parchment and a quill. Now!"