A/N: Adan is the alchemist whom the Inquisition had working as an apothecary/healer. He's the grouchy, bearded guy you meet early on in Haven. Ava is an OC- studying to become an apothecary and a healer. Their backstory is woven into "A Matter of Consequence."

"Never compete with someone who has nothing to lose."

― Baltasar Gracián

4. The Wager

"I'm sorry, Ava. This isn't working," Adan informed her, frustrated.

"You can't do this to me now!" Ava pleaded, clasping his arm. Before them, on the dispensary's table, lay piles of books and scrolls, parchment and a quill, and a foreboding list of topics for her upcoming apothecary's exam.

"This was a terrible idea," he complained, turning to face her.

She looked away sheepishly. It had begun innocently enough: every evening before bed he would go over her studies with her, asking questions on the texts she'd read. One night, after correctly reciting back a particularly complex formula, he'd swooped in and kissed her on the lips.

"A reward," he'd smiled playfully.

At first she'd only receive a kiss after answering more challenging questions properly. Then he began kissing her anytime she got a question right, regardless of level or difficulty. Studying had become a pretext for ulterior motives and would fall to the wayside after a few correct answers, usually to very easy questions, as they didn't want to waste any time on needless preambles to what had quickly degenerated into something much less academic and much more physical.

"But I do need your help…" she insisted.

"This has become a sham!" he scolded her. "You are one week away from taking the first exam towards your license and I'm not sure you know what you need to know!"

"You don't like helping me?" She made a moue, knowing he was right.

He looked at her helplessly. It had been his fault just as much as hers. He had no motivation whatsoever to ask her hard questions when she sat before him so tempting and irresistible—

"Right now I don't feel like I am helping you. I'm definitely enjoying it," he admitted, lowering his eyes guiltily, "but as to its pedagogical value…"

Now what? She felt disheartened.

"Let's do this in earnest," he suggested, taking a few minutes to browse through the list of topics her exam would encompass. "Ah, very good. Distillations and stoloniferous herbs…"

She thought he would begin to relent after a good half hour and gamely attempted to distract him, but nothing derailed him from his mission. She answered question after dry question with patient resignation.

Still, I am not doing that badly, she realized, making note of the topics in which she would have to redouble her studying efforts.

"You are better off than I imagined," he conceded with evident relief.

She felt pleased with her efforts—it was a glowing feeling that he quashed with his subsequent comment.

"I never would have guessed before…" He rolled his eyes, seeking to irk her.

She sniffed.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

He shifted in his chair uncomfortably.

"Just…Well, for a time there I was concerned. If I wanted to receive a kiss from you, I couldn't ask you any of the more challenging questions—"

"Master Adan," she said in a chilling tone that immediately put him on his guard. "Perhaps I was encouraging you because, I, too, was eager to treat our study sessions as a subterfuge…but now I see I was sorely mistaken in allowing your delusions about my intelligence to—"

"It has nothing to do with your intelligence," he cautioned. "I was merely making a remark regarding your studying habits. I know you well," he continued, "and you were always one who enjoyed learning more through actively doing and witnessing practical applications rather than solely processing abstract ideas!"

"I'll have you know that I am a very determined person," she told him indignantly. "And when I want something, I work hard for it. I am going to attain my first tier license next week. You'll see."

He was taken aback by her response. He sat silently, contemplating his angry wife before pausing briefly and uttering his fighting words.

"Measurement systems," he demanded. "Give me the proper conversions, in Apothecary, Orlesian, and Avoirdupois systems for the following compounding formula…"

She seized her parchment and quill and began jotting down the rapidly issued quantities of ingredients, her mind ablaze with calculations and memorized equivalencies. After a few moments of scribbling, crossing out, and pondering her results, she handed him the sheet, watching his eyes slowly peruse her work. He inhaled deeply and dropped the sheet on the table.

"Perfect," he said proudly.

She crossed her arms, a triumphant smile on her face.

"Now I collect a reward," she declared.

He was about to protest when she reached across, tugging and undoing the sash around his waist. As it fell to the ground, he puzzled loudly.

"What are you doing?"

"For every answer I get right, I get to remove an article of clothing of yours…" she told him suggestively.

He opened his mouth but no sound came out, except for a faint "Oh."

He browsed through the list once more.

"Transdermal Bases," he announced. "And pain management…Give me the potential penetrative ability of ointments, from greatest to lowest, that use the following plants as their main ingredient…"

Her eyes narrowed. He was going for the hardest topics all of a sudden. She rattled off the order as best she could, basing her replies on educated guesses rather than memorized information. The contented side grin on his face told her she hadn't properly named them.

"Ah, so close…But you got three of the eleven wrong," he informed her.

She leaned back in her chair, abated. She'd have to study harder if she wanted to beat him. He leaned forward, his eyes meeting hers, his lips temptingly close. They locked gazes for a moment and she sensed her disposition towards him thaw when suddenly he raised his hands to the top of her mage's robe, deftly plucking three buttons open.

"For every mistake you make, I get to remove an article of clothing of yours…" He sat back, staring at the newly plunging neckline he'd created for her with satisfaction. "I'm giving you a little leeway with that last question…"

"Oh? Ask away, then," she taunted him, sitting up in her chair, emphasizing her fresh décolletage. "I am going to have you down to your small clothes, you horrid man," she declared mischievously.

"I am going to have you down to nothing, my dear, in exactly four questions…"

She felt a small shiver of pleasure course through her.

"Challenge accepted…But perhaps you should sit closer to the fire, since it is bound to get chillier for you…" she teased.

"The temperature in here is rising quite rapidly as it is…" he muttered slyly, flipping the sheet over with renewed determination.

She couldn't be happier.

It was a win-win situation.