A/N: After playing many, many hours of Dragon Age, this little story came to me. Forgive any spelling and/or grammar mistakes. It was written in the very early hours of the morning.
Disclaimer: Dragon Age belongs to Bioware!
"Why, I think I'm drunk," Avery said pleasantly, as she swayed slightly from side to side. It was late, and the Grey Warden and Oghren sat by the roaring fire in camp. The two had begun drinking steadily after most of their companions had retired to bed. That had been several hours ago.
Oghren, holding a tankard of the ale the Grey Warden had given him a few hours earlier, grinned viciously. "No lass. Not yet. The trick is not to be able to stand up"
"I can stand up!" Avery jumped to her feet to demonstrate, and wobbled unsteadily backwards, into Alistair's arms.
"Oh, what an amazing skill you have there Avery. I'm sure that the arch demon is going to love watching you stand up, just like that!" Alistair mocked, as he steadied his companion.
Avery turned her head and squinted at the Templar. "You juss wish you could stand up like me," she slurred, and tried to move out of the circle of his arms.
"Uh, uh, uh. I think you've had enough fearless leader. Don't want to have a hangover. It'll interfere with our scheduled bout of maiming tomorrow."
"Ah, let her go and stop yer whining. Girl's got at least seven more tankards in her before she passes out for the night," Oghren observed as he tipped back his drink.
"Seven! Are you insane? Wait, no. I know you're insane. Why did I even ask that. But seven? Really? She weighs nothing."
Oghren lifted a fiery eyebrow. "And how do you know how much she weighs, eh? Been bouncing her about lately?" And with that he started laughing uproariously.
Alistair blushed bright red. "Nn..no!" he stammered. "She's just, ya know…tiny"
Avery, still stuck with Alistair, pouted. "You can stop talking about me like I'm not even here," she said in a childish voice.
"Um, sorry. Listen, Avery, you really should…" Alistair paused when Avery turned and shot him a look filled with desperate pleading. "Alistair, I want to drink! Lots and lots! Just like Ohgren. Lemme go!"
"Alright. But don't say I didn't warn you. And, you know, don't come into my tent tomorrow with a sword to vent your displeasure." And with that he helped settle her back on the ground, and stalked off towards his tent.
"Told ya, he whines too much. Needs to be drunk more often. Now, if you're looking for a real man…" Oghren began. Alistair swore and ducked into his tent, trying to ignore their drunken laughter.
It was rather early the next morning when he wandered out and headed towards the fire. Avery was already up, water by her feet and her head in her hands.
"And what a fine morning it is," Alistair said cheerfully as he settled down near Avery, but not near enough that she could hit him. No one could ever say Avery hit like a girl.
"I should kill you for that statement, but I find I can't move from this position," Avery gritted her teeth.
"You mean you've been staring at the ground all morning?"
"No, just for the part of the morning after I woke up passed out next to Oghren in the dirt, with something that lacks description crawling in my hair." She let out a deep sigh. "Maker, why did I have to drink with a dwarf."
"I tried to warn you," Alistair said in a sing song voice.
"Indeed you did. Unfortunately, I was too slammed to listen to the unlikely voice of reason. Do you know he tried to proposition me eight times last night? That I remember anyway."
"Oghren? No, that isn't like him at all. Surely, you have him mistaken. Why, he's as delicate as a chantry flower," Alistair said, shock and sincerity dripping from his tone.
Avery groaned in response.
"You're not going to be sick are you?" Alistair looked at her warily.
"Oh, it's a possibility," Avery said, still sitting statue still.
"Want me to get Wynne for you?"
"Oh good. A lecture and a healing spell." A moment passed. "No, yeah, go get her. Now. Right now. Now Alistair!"
"I'm going! Sheesh!" he yelped, but he rose and trotted off.
He returned with Wynne a few minutes later, to discover Avery in the same position, and Oghren snoring as loud an ogre.
"I've changed my mind." Avery announced as soon as she heard footsteps.
"Oh?" said Wynne, a gently sarcastic tone in her voice.
"I've decided I don't want a healing spell. First, I want Alistair to kill me."
"Me? Why me?" He gaped at the girl.
"I'm touched at your concern for my well being. Really. Not, no Avery, please don't die. I want you to live. Live! Instead, you're whining. Why is he whining?" she asked Wynne.
Wynne merely raised an eyebrow at the Grey Warden.
"Second," Avery continued on, "I want my last will and testament to be carried out. I want my dog to get everything, and for someone to take Oghren to the biggest pit in the deep roads and toss him in."
"Can't we just bypass the killing you and do that anyway? No? Oh well, I tried," Alistair sighed.
Wynne knelt by the human girl. "I've made you a potion. It's not going to taste as good as what you were drinking last night, but it should help with the nausea."
"Thank you Wynne. I mean it. From the bottom of my heart. But, I really don't think I can move. I think I'm just going to stare at the ground some more, and compose some very strongly worded letters expressing my new and abiding hatred of dwarves and their ale."
Wynne rolled her eyes, and, very quickly, grabbed the Grey Warden's shoulders and yanked her up.
"Whoa!" Avery yelped, and gasped a little when everything started to move.
"There you are. Now drink your medicine. And a word of advice? I'd leave the drinking to Oghren from now on." Wynne smirked at Avery and then wandered off back to her own tent.
Avery wrinkled her nose at the brew, but tipped it back and swallowed it all. "Maker! That is foul," she gagged.
Alistair grinned. "That's what you get."
Avery narrowed her eyes. "Now that I'm in a upright position and have consumed something that will very likely make me mobile again, would you like to rephrase that?"
"Ah, what I meant to say was, I'm so very glad that I can now see your, um, eyes. The light and beauty in them warms my soul. Please, by the Maker, do not hurt me."
A smirk twisted Avery's lips. "Better. Now help me up. I want to go to the river and wash thoroughly."
"But, we're going to be battling darkspawn. You'll just get all bloody again." Alistair reached out a hand and pulled Avery to her feet.
"That is a dirty I am at least familiar with. This is something else. Something far more disgusting."
"If you say so."
They both turned when Oghren snorted, and then, groaned. He sat up, scratching his head. "Ugh. What a night." He glanced over at Avery. "You sure can drink girl. Better than any prostitute in Orzammar. Care to join me for another mug?" He held up his tankard.
Avery groaned, a rather loud sound filled with despair, and then shuffled off towards the river, muttering and swearing under her breath.
"I think you might have offended her." Alistair commented.
Oghren, instead of replying, belched rather loudly. Stumbling to his feet, he blinked owlishly, making sure Avery was out of earshot. "Told you I'd get her drunk. Hah! Easiest sovereign I ever made!"
"I really need to stop making these bets," Alistair muttered, as he drew the gold coin out of his belt.