Author's Note Part 1:

Sorry for the wait, dears. I've had this chapter done for a while but just kept forgetting to post it! Anyway, there may be a sizeable gap between this chapter and the next, as I've gotten a little absorbed into a series of shorts I'm writing (which will also involve a F!Hawke/Isabela pairing, as well as several others, including Merrill/Bethany and Sebastian/Fenris). With that, college, and personal drama, my pace is going to be glacial.

Aveline's POV

I sat pensively in the issued security vehicle, staring at a suspicious group of young men as they stood around a street light. I had intelligence that someone was dealing party drugs at this location, and although it was my night off, I felt it was my duty to personally investigate. Donnic didn't seem to mind the intrusion to his shift, even allowing me to drive to the stakeout location. After the shitty week I had, it was good to be at work, even if that meant waiting around for slatterns to pick up their E. But it was already 9:30 and there were no bites. Not even a nibble. I continued to focus on the task at hand, but my partner was bored out of his skull and playing on his phone. The gadget was emitting this absolutely aggravating theme music, and I couldn't take it any longer.

"Donnic, would you please shut that off? We're on a job." I reminded the dopey brunette, a little extra disdain in my voice.

"It's only Candy Crush. Let me just clear out this last jelly and I'll put it away, I swear." He whined from behind his screen, still swiping and clicking away.

You can't slap recruits, you can't slap recruits… I reminded myself. "Fine…" I hissed under my breath. His annoying little game continued, and then the device began to ring, furthering my frustration. "Seriously, get off of your damned phone!" I cursed at him from the driver's seat, still attempting to retain visual of the suspected drug dealers (not that they were doing anything interesting, honestly).

The phone continued to ring as Donnic tapped me on the shoulder, catching my attention. "Um… That's not me, Aveline." His brown eyes darted down toward the side pocket of my cargo pants, which I now noticed was vibrating.

"Damn it all to Hell!" I swiftly rifled through the pocket and pulled out my cell. As I held the screen up to my face I groaned loudly, slamming my skull against the stiff headrest. Part of me considered not answering, but then again, it was a perfect chance to get snarky at someone who truly deserved it. "Hawke, if you're calling to apologize-" I started once I accepted the call, still looking out of the windshield.

"Ave, it's Merrill." The tone of her voice immediately gave me pause and I felt my stomach lurch.

"Where?" I asked without hesitation, my voice more hoarse than intended.

I could hear loud music and a cacophony of noise on the other end of the line. "The Blooming Rose, up by-"

The name was familiar enough. I started the car, a mental map of the area coming to the forefront of my mind. "I'm on the way. Keep her safe until I get there." I hung up before I could hear Cassandra's response, then I threw my phone carelessly on the dash, causing my partner to jump. I turned to address him calmly. "Donnic, it's an emergency. I have to borrow this vehicle." Alright, so I wasn't exactly polite about it, but he got the idea. I've never seen a man hop out of a car so fast.

"What about the-" He started as he was about to shut the door.

Fuck, I nearly forgot! "Keep an eye on them. Radio me if anything changes." I ordered him. He gave a mocking salute, making me angrier still. "And shave off those stupid mutton chops! They're embarrassing!" I shouted through the open window as I peeled out of the parking lot, breaking every rule I was charged with enforcing. The tires squealed as I rounded a tight corner, and I made the hasty decision to flip on my lights and sirens.

All of my thoughts were rushed at this point. My heart was thundering like a race-horse and my brain was in overdrive. I know now that I was scared for Merrill. But at the time, I considered myself furious. At Merrill for being in trouble, at Hawke for putting her in danger, and at Isabela for… simply existing! It's bad enough she seduced my teammate, no, then she had to take my best friend to a lesbian bar! Oh, yes, I knew exactly what that place was. A patrolwoman by the name of Brennan had taken me there while bar-hopping the last weekend of summer (I was the designated driver, of course). We started at the Blooming Rose, but ended up at the Hanged Man by the end of the night, where she spent hours reciting romantic poetry to the bartender. Needless to say, I slipped a complaint or two into her file. Mostly for assuming I wanted to go to a lesbian bar, and thus inferring that I was homosexual. Which, despite whatever stereotypes I fit, I'm not.

I continued to race across town. I glanced down to the speedometer, cursing loudly. Merrill's got me going 85 down one-way streets! With no seatbelt! I told myself I'd never… Not after- My chest constricted tightly, expelling the air from my body. Wesley… You see, the only shred of evidence to my sexuality was the one person I could never talk about: my ex-fiancé.

Contrary to popular belief, I wasn't always a 'battering ram'. In fact, there was a time in which the only batter I was familiar with involved cornbread. And lard. In case that wasn't pathetic enough, I was also an only child and spent the majority of my time alone. By the time 13 rolled around I was the freckly fat girl with ginger pigtails and no friends. I found my social life in the FFA. Milking cows, identifying plants, doing fundraisers and breeding swine. That's where I met Wesley. He made me feel… normal. I was 'one of the boys'. Spitballs, belching competitions, fishing, tromping around in work boots; the whole package. But there came a point in my freshmen year of high school that our friendship came under question. I had never thought of him as a boyfriend. So a week later, when he kissed me under the flagpole, I was speechless. I waited for a punch to the arm, a joke, anything. But it never happened.

Next thing I know, we're 17 and under that same flagpole. Wesley took a knee, even in the rain, and asked for my hand in marriage. He was my best friend. He was my only friend, truthfully. The remainder cowered in intimidation after my sophomore growth spurt. Somewhere in the back of my mind I knew my father would never approve. He always wanted 'more for me'. But I said yes anyway, and we made a plan. We were going to drive to another county and get married in secret on the afternoon of our senior prom. So my mother helped me put on makeup that morning (getting me ready for 'the dance'). Then I struggled into my dress, slipped my engagement ring on, and waited for my chariot to arrive. Of course, it never did.

I ran down the stairs when the doorbell rang. I was so excited that I nearly tripped over the edge of my long white and gold gown. But when I thrust open the door, it wasn't my fiancé coming to take me away. It was the Sherriff. According to the report, Wesley was so eager to elope that he was driving 75 miles per hour on the winding country road between our houses. He didn't have time to stop when a tractor backed out from behind a barn. Both drivers died instantly.

I never made it to prom that night. Within 24 hours I had burned all of the things that reminded me of him, including that tear-stained dress. I swore to never be so foolish again, to uphold the laws my fiancé failed to follow. Honestly, I was angry at Wesley. As far as I was concerned, he got himself killed. He knew better than to drive that fast on that particular road. He knew that Mr. Williams was always moving equipment around at odd hours. He knew better than to die on our wedding day. Worst of all, he knew better than to leave me alone.

And alone is, once again, what I was. I had no friends left. I started getting into fights at school. Every time someone said his name, I knocked them flat on their ass. Ironically, that's when someone approached me about trying out for sports. Rugby was a good outlet for my blind rage; at least it covered the heartache. It wasn't until May that my father informed me that I was accepted into Kirkwall University. I never applied for college. I didn't feel the need to further my education. I already had an oil-drilling job lined up in Alaska, far from my memories. But, after a four-hour speech on 'the benefits of degree from such a prestigious institution' from my father, I gave in.

At the end of my freshmen year (after nine months of bulking up and becoming proficient at rugby), I cut myself off from my parents. I changed my name (adopting Wesley's surname, as it felt natural) and assumed responsibility for all of my own bills. I returned in the fall with one purpose in mind: to excel at everything I wanted to do and make a difference in the world. I figured a sociology degree would be useful in the criminal justice field, so I kept on.

That's when I met Hawke and Merrill. Once I found out that she played, I convinced Cassandra to join the women's rugby club. Overshadows me most days, but I don't mind. And her roommate, Merrill… She'sjust… infuriating. She's so smart, but she does the stupidest things! She set fire to the dorm toaster (twice), she nearly got pneumonia from making snow angels during a blizzard, and she crosses the street without looking all of the time. And I try so hard to explain things to her, but she just blinks those big green eyes at me and I get so confused. I'm never sure whether to hug her or slap her, so I just groan and walk away.

But this time Merrill was truly in harm's way; and it was up to me to save her. I can't throttle her if she's dead! I screeched to a halt in front of the Blooming Rose, barely shutting off the siren before bolting out of the car and into the building. I pushed my way through the crowds, immediately spotting my friends by the bar (I can call them that, since Isabela was elsewhere).

What I found was not the mortal danger I had expected from such a frantic call. Merrill was disheveled, to say the least, but still standing. She was barefoot, I didn't see her customary scarf, and her face was bright red. She was tugging at Hawke's hand, trying to get her roommate to go somewhere.

"Cassssandra, dance with meeee!" She whined, sticking her bottom lip out as she attempted to drag the larger woman to the dance floor.

"No, Daisy. Ave is on the-" That's when the winger saw me approach from her peripherals. "Hey look, it's big girl!" She pointed distractingly.

Merrill's eyes widened as she turned to me. "AVELINE!" She squealed excitedly. Before I could protest (and I definitely would have), she sprinted directly at me, banging her forehead into my chest. The girl may be small but her hugs are strong enough to wind the largest of people. I had to pry her away by the shoulders just to regain my breath. And once I did, I had questions.

"Are you alright, Merrill? Hawke told me you were hurt?" I held her at arm's length, scanning up and down for injuries. I mostly found glitter and a bit of beer that was spilt on her pants. No blood or bodily fluids, hers or otherwise.

"No, no! I'm f-fine. But ssince you're here, dance with me!" Her words were slurred, as well. But what was particularly worrying is how she insistently jerked on my belt. She paused momentarily as she noticed my mode of dress. "Wait… why are you wearing a polo sshirt? You don't play polo… Do you?" Her head tilted curiously. Indeed, I was wearing my red 'Campus Security' top tucked into black cargo pants, and my black leather utility belt with radio, flashlight, taser, badge, and handcuffs attached.

I nearly got myself killed for dancing and stupid questions? You've got to be kidding! Any other day, I would have been respectful, despite her inebriated state. But at this moment, I was just pissed. "No, I do not play polo! This is my uniform. I was at work. An unfamiliar concept, I know! But Hawke called me to come save you, so I didn't exactly take time to change!" I shook her shoulders in my frustration, my words more harsh than necessary.

"Aww, you're sso ssweet!" She beamed up at me before wrapping me in another rib-shattering embrace. Of course all you heard was 'I'm here to save you'. Simple-minded little… Kitten. I hate how well that nickname fits. I groaned hopelessly at her overzealous gratitude. It was only when her roommate cleared her throat that she released me again. She turned to face our mutual friend, blinking confusedly. "Why do I need ssaving?"

"You're trashed." That earned a few silent blinks. "Three sheets to the wind?" Still not registering. "You're drunk as a skunk, Daisy." Cassandra informed her matter-of-factly, tucking stray hairs behind her ears (which I was glad weren't flushed, meaning she was wise enough to remain sober).

Merrill gave a surprised gasp, covering her mouth with her dainty little hands. "I didn't know sskunks got drunk! How do you know all thesse thingss?" She asked seriously, before giving a little chuckle. "Do they get all tingly and warm, too? Becausse it'ss a pretty great feeling." Now she was giggling like a school-girl, and I actually sighed when she turned back to me, stars in her big green eyes. "I'd r-really like to dance with you. You may act big and sscary, but I can tell you're a cuddler, you are." She tapped my sternum with one finger, and there was this strange look on her face. I'll be honest, it made me really uncomfortable, and my cheeks must have reddened a few shades. Something about the idea of her wanting to 'cuddle' with me seemed… improper. It felt like one of those euphemisms I was famous for missing. But, in case she was just being friendly, I ignored it.

"Wait here for a moment." I gave her a weak pat on the top of her head, gaining me another adorable smile. I immediately pointed our other dorm mate toward an empty corner nearby, leaving Merrill frozen in place. Once my friend and I were in relative privacy (though I still had a clear visual of our drunken cohort), I gave the woman a heavy-handed slap to the back of the skull. "Hawke, what in the name of all things holy were you thinking?!" I hissed between gritted teeth.

Cassandra rubbed sorely at the wound, trying desperately to explain her side of things. "It's not my fault! I lost track of her on the dance floor. Next thing I know Jess is grinding on her ass and she's plastered. Isabela is dealing with the hooker. I called you because I was afraid Daisy was going to drink herself into a coma or somehow end up hurt. But so far she's been simply asking everyone to dance."

Her concern over Merrill's safety, her sobriety, and the fact that she did call me before anything serious occurred did calm me somewhat. I glanced over at the elfish little girl, then back at Hawke. Lord, I'd kill you if she was harmed. I exhaled slowly. "Still, she's underage and highly vulnerable. Bringing her to a bar was idiotic at minimum." I noted evenly, by glare burning deep into her icy blue eyes.

"I know Ave. I'm sorry." The winger stared down at the floor, then gave a quick flash of eye contact, her body slumped in defeat. "For everything." She sighed heavily. You mean for accusing me of being in love with Merrill, thus calling my sexual orientation into question? Or how the mere insinuation of love caused me to spend the last few days thinking about, and weeping for, Wesley? Meanwhile, you pander about with Isabela, Kirkwall's scourge and my personal nemesis? You should be sorry.

"We'll talk about that later." I assured her, my jaw clenched tightly. "For now, I need to get your roommate back to the dorm and away from alcohol."

We both looked over to the woman, who was now clearly being propositioned by a pale, black-haired woman with… an abnormally large Adam's apple. Oh shit. Hawke and I both gulped hard. "Agreed." Luckily, even as we approached, Merrill was politely ignoring the suitor and shooing them away. Her eyes brightened again when she saw me return, and I had to fight the urge to smile. You may be cute, but I'm still angry.

"Can we dance now?" She asked quietly, hands laced behind her back. Her cheeks were red as roses already, but I could almost swear she was blushing. Then she seemed to have a thought, and jumped back to attention. "Oh, and if you don't know how, I can teach you!" She added excitedly, holding her hands up and nearly pleading with me to agree. And somewhere in the back of my mind, it didn't sound half bad. But the current situation was not conducive to my 'letting loose', especially at a lesbian nightclub (in my uniform, no less).

"Not tonight Merrill. I'm going to take you home before you get into more trouble." I reached out to take her hand, but she took a quick step back. There was a mischievous look in her eye that I didn't recognize.

"You'll have to catch me first!" Both she and Hawke began laughing maniacally as Merrill ran the other way, dipping and weaving through the crowd. Like children, the both of them. I wasn't exactly going to wait around for her to come back. So, low and behold, I chased her. It didn't take long for me to close the distance, either. By the time I had pushed through the females standing about, she had trapped herself in front of a locked closet. She pressed her back against the door, a look of complete shock on her face when I approached with open arms and a grin. After no more than a squeal, the young woman was thrown over my shoulder and carried toward her roommate. "Ooo, you're sso sstrong!" She exclaimed excitedly, gaining the laughter of some witnesses.

Despite being held by the back of the knees, Merrill continued to squirm, propping her elbows on my kidneys. Cassandra got another good laugh at the way I had captured our friend, even snapping a picture with her phone. Thanks for the help, kid. Good to know you have my back. I punched her playfully in the arm with my free hand, somewhat amused at how easily I had recovered the drunken miscreant. "Keep your lady out of trouble tonight, Hawke. This one is quite a handful by herself, and I'd rather not take two trips." I said sarcastically, shrugging my occupied shoulder and lightly shaking the aforementioned woman.

"But I haven't ssaid goodnight to Issabela!" She whined from behind my back. My teammate quickly winked and walked around me, addressing her face to face.

"I'll tell her, Daisy. Just let Aveline take care of you."

"Oh, OK…" Something about both of their tones was… unsettling, but I let it go. What was more concerning is how not one person said a word as I exited the bar with an inebriated maiden over my shoulder. Even when I tossed her none-too-gently into the back of my patrol vehicle, no one so much as batted an eyelash. Good thing no one was hurt, or I doubt they would have been rendered any aid by this crowd. After giving Merrill ample time to buckle in (alcohol seemed to drastically slow her hand-eye coordination), we began the slow ride back to the dormitory. What I had hoped to be a quiet trip became anything but. We weren't even down the block before Merrill started up a line of questioning. "Am I under arresst?" She asked plainly.

I glanced at her in the rear-view mirror, noting the concern written all over her face. "No."

That earned me a startled gasp. "Why not? I've broken the law!" She so astutely pointed out as she smoothed down her raven hair.

"I know." It was practically a grunt. Don't remind me…

"Then sshouldn't I be handcuffed and tosssed in the brig? You're not a bad police ociffer, are you? Do you let the pretty oness go, is that it?" Her words were so quick and slurred that I nearly thought I had misunderstood.

"WHAT? No!" I turned my head back on instinct, and her face fell, hands tucked disappointingly in her lap. Now you've hurt her feelings! Good one, Ave. I returned my focus to the road, trying my best to make it right. You know if she cries, you're going to hate yourself for it. I cleared my throat, catching her attention before she could start bawling. "Not that you're not attractive, because you are, it's just…" God, what am I even saying? "You're not under arrest, alright?" I explained politely.

There was a long pause, and a single sniffle nearly stabbed me in the back (impossible, truly, but that's what it felt like). I glanced at Merrill in the mirror again and she wasn't crying, but she was most definitely blushing. "… You ssaid I wass p-pretty." She whispered shyly, her eyes looking anywhere but where they could meet mine.

Of course you're pretty. Who ever told you that you weren't? Obviously, I couldn't just say that. Instead, I said something to the effect of: "sure, yes, whatever. But you're going to look like Hell in the morning when the hangover hits." And that killed the conversation.

"I'd like to know more about being a ssecurity guard, Aveline." Merrill stuttered as she stood in front of her dorm room, fumbling with her keys.

Of course, this of all nights, the elevator had decided to be out of order. That left me with two options: follow an already klutzy and inebriated woman with bare feet up to the fifth floor and catch her before she went tumbling down, or give in and carry her up countless flights of stairs. Added weight not-withstanding, it was nearly comical. Though I did have to slap her hand away when she grabbed for my taser. And her obvious fascination with said equipment was probably the inspiration for the current discussion. "I don't think that's the job for you." I remarked calmly from behind, rubbing at my shoulder.

"I know." She released a tiny giggle as she dropped her keys for the third time, bending down to retrieve them. "But it might help me not get caught being drunk and dissorganized."

I averted my gaze (again) as she reached down to grab the misplaced lanyard, and I readjusted my utility belt nervously. "It's drunk and disorderly, Merrill. Which is exactly what you'll be if you don't sleep this off." Finally, the proper key found its home and the deadbolt clicked open. I breathed a sigh of relief as we stepped into her room, safe and sound. My little friend immediately opened the closet door to her shared sink and went about washing her face. Mission accomplished. Crisis averted. Time to go. I was just about to turn and leave as the brunette began to brush her teeth.

"May I assk a different quesstion?" She mumbled around her toothbrush. Her face was still flushed from the alcohol, but she seemed a little more… under control.

I don't see the harm. "Will it get you into your bunk faster?" I asked seriously. She gave a few quick nods as she continued her oral care regimen. "Then yes, you may." I remarked with a wave of the hand. She held up one finger as she turned back to the sink, filling a little plastic cup with water and swishing it about in her mouth. Then, in the most feminine display I had ever seen, she spat down the drain. I leaned patiently against the end of her bed as she patted her face dry and looked up.

"When you ssaid I wass p-pretty, did you…" She went silent, gazing into the ancient mirror. The whole building was over 80 years old, and that particular fixture appeared to be an original piece. It was dingy, had layers of old paint running over its edges, and had sustained several nicks and scratches over the decades. But despite all of that, the reflection it gave was beautiful to me. Why do you doubt yourself so? She was everything I could never be: innocent, fun, delicate, adorable, carefree, always smiling, and in awe of every wonder in this world. That is what made her beautiful on the inside, where it counted. But… she certainly wasn't unpleasing to the eye, either. It's not as if I hadn't noticed, objectively speaking.

I closed my eyes, trying to collect my words. "I wouldn't of said it if I didn't mean it. Now can we just-" I don't remember what I was about to say. All that I can recall is how quickly Merrill was able to cross the room and plant her lips on mine. To say that I was surprised would be a major understatement. My eyes shot open when I realized that she didn't just kiss me in some friendly thanks for the compliment (which would have been shocking enough, as she was only the second person to ever do so). No, she was in the process of kissing me, as in continuously. And worse, it felt… good. Her lips were softer than I would have thought, even insistent as they were against my unmoving ones. And she gripped the collar of my shirt like a lifeline, pressing herself closer when she wasn't immediately denied. She was unbelievably warm, and I couldn't help the flush that spread from my red hair down to the soles of my feet. Her breath was minty, but with a light fruity taste… probably from what she was drinking earlier. Once I remembered that she was, in fact, drunk, I quickly tried to push her away by the waist. "This isn't right," I sputtered out quickly. I heard what I was saying, but I had to shut my eyes in response to a sudden headache. It was as if my mind was fighting me. Why is it wrong? It just is. Why? I don't know. Because she's a woman? Well… no. Because you're scared? I'm... this is all too much to think about right now!

"But it feelss right…" I blinked in surprise at the low whine in her voice, and stood completely still as she lifted on tiptoes and wrapped her arms around my neck. I had never seen that dilation in her pupils before, and it made me sweat bullets. Is she… aroused? I quickly got my answer as she began to kiss me once again. Her first kiss was hurried and uncertain. This was… something else entirely. It was almost forceful, the way she pushed and pulled at my lips. My knees felt weaker than they had in years, and soon my reluctance gave way. Despite my best efforts, I began to kiss her back. She gave me the smallest of appreciative hums and pressed herself tighter against me, effectively pinning me against her bed-frame. That's when I felt my handcuffs jut into my spine, and my job returned to the forefront of my mind.

I grabbed her compellingly by the ribs, quick pushing her to arm's length and nearly knocking her over in the process. "Just stop, Merrill! You're beyond besotted." She stumbled back, a look of pain in her eyes.

"No, I'm-" The argument was cut short by her own hand covering her mouth. As suspected, she turned to vomit in the sink.

I sighed deeply as she continued to wretch, and regardless of her earlier outburst, comforted her by rubbing her back. "It's alright…" I cooed as she finally began to calm. She passed from the vomiting phase into the crying phase as I held out her toothbrush. Perhaps she regrets her drunken lust. If so, I doubt anything I say could rectify that. She wept continuously as she brushed her teeth for the second time. When she was finished, I smiled and politely picked her up, setting her down on her bunk. "Up you go."

"Aveline…" She sniffled at me, her green eyes glistening with moisture.

Unable to resist, I tucked her in under the comforter, smoothing her short black hair behind her pointed ears. "I need to leave now." It was more a reminder to myself than anything. "I… have to return my partner's vehicle and then try to explain why I'm covered in glitter and smell like a brothel." Her wavering frown pleaded with me and she reached out to take my hand.

"Don't go." She tried to sit up, but I set my other hand on her shoulder, keeping her from moving. "I love you…" She seemed to promise me, her grip on my fingers near painful. I released a small sigh. It wasn't the first time she had said those words (never directly to me, but to Hawke), though she always did so out of excitement, and with a smile on her face. Of course you do Merrill, you love every- "…as more than a friend," she completed. Neither of us was smiling now. My eyes widened in shock at the renewed flush on her pale cheeks, and I found it increasingly difficult to think straight.

"I …" I want to… But… Why now? I can't… Not when she's drunk. I sat silently for a moment, trying to decide what to say. Before I could speak, Merrill brought my hand to her chest. What I expected to be a continuation of her earlier seduction turned out to be anything but. She curled protectively around my hand and closed her eyes, an aura of utter comfort growing around her. It was heartwarming, but sad. I leaned down to whisper in her ear. "It doesn't really matter what I say. It wouldn't change anything. Because you're going to wake up in the morning and forget all of this ever happened." I actually wanted to cry at the irony. I was finally ready to move past Wesley, to admit my love for Merrill, and she was too drunk and sleepy to hear me.

In seconds her breathing evened out, and the peace of sleep had taken her. I carefully slid my hand away. She whimpered lightly at the loss, but quickly settled. "Beth … amdanoch … chi?" Of course she mumbles in Welsh. English just wouldn't be cute enough. I slowly took a step back, retrieving a wastebasket and placing it near the head of her bunk, just in case. She looked so blissful in her sleep that it made my chest hurt. Assured that she wouldn't wake, I pressed a single kiss to her forehead.

"Sweet dreams, Merrill." I crept silently out of the room, closing the door behind me. I leaned against it for a moment, gathering my thoughts. You've been gone for so long, Wesley… I think it's time. I deserve to be happy again. And although the recent turn of events left a tingling feeling in my stomach, my feet were lighter than air as I strolled down the corridor and back to work.

Author's Note Part 2:

1. Merrill is mumbling to Aveline "What about you?", in essence asking if she is going to forget all about their kiss in the morning, or pretend it never happened. And if you think "they love each other! It'll be all rainbows and butterflies from here on out!", then you're mistaken. Their romance will be just as awkward and slow as Aveline/Donnic in DAII. In fact, I'll be slipping in some specific details from 'The Long Road' along the way, just for funsies.

2. This is predominantly a F!Hawke/Isabela story, but I think having multiple romances lends some drama to work with. Plus, I like to experiment. ;) But I am going to state this now, just so you know: there will not be a Aveline/Merrill sex scene. Ever. This story only has room for one kind of smut, and that's Pirate Queen smut. Sorry if I rained on your ginger parade.