Written for a k!meme prompt:

"So Merrill being all sweet decides to bake - cookies, cupcakes whatever and gives them to the companions. She unknowningly or knowingly puts in an aphrodisiac, a very powerful one. Smut ensues for everyone! Can pair people up however A!As wants. Can be companions or random people in the game, like Corff, Bran, Dumar, etc... Maybe Merrill decides everyone needs a little love in their lives."

Merrill frowned at the open book. "Lathera root – do I even have that?" she muttered. There wasn't any in the corner of the room that was designated as her kitchen, but she found a jar of the dried root mixed in with her potions supplies, and ground up and added the required amount. She wiped a flour-daubed hand across her forehead, blinking back tears as some of the flour dust got into her eyes. Again! If she'd known how difficult making these little cakes was going to be, she'd never have started. She leaned over and checked the recipe. "Two eggs. One cup of soft butter. Beat in well."

She nodded and did so, then glanced at the recipe again, blinking tiredly. She really should have thought of this earlier in the evening. Or waited until the next day to bake them. "Vhenantuthen seeds? That's an unusual choice," she remarked, and went sorting through little bags and boxes and vials again, finally finding some in a chest of miscellaneous herbs under the long table. They were a bit elderly, but she recalled something about their potency – no, it must be their flavour – increasing with long storage. She added them to the thick dough as well, then the final addition of flour and milk, and spooned rounds of the dough onto a greased baking stone before slipping it into the little oven built into the side of her fireplace.

She cleaned up while they cooked, feeling happier and beginning to smile as their rich sweet scent filled the room, washing up the bowl and spoon, and her mortar and pestle, and the cutting board and knife. She put away the cookbook on its shelf, then frowned and dusted stray flour from the books underneath. She really should have put them away before making the cakes, it would have been terrible if she'd spilled something worse than flour on any of them. Especially the old potion book which Marethari had loaned to her. She closed it and re-wrapped it in the cloth that normally protected it, and put it carefully away.

She counted the little cakes when she took them out of the oven, nervous that perhaps she's forgotten to make enough for everyone. There were eight, one each for Hawke, Isabella, Fenris, Anders, Sebastian, Varric, Aveline and... who was she forgetting. She counted them again. Yes, eight. Then pointed her finger at each in turn, rattling off names, and again had one left over. It was very perplexing!

She was too tired to make sense of it. She'd figure it out tomorrow, she decided, and went to bed.

"I don't understand it," Merrill said in distress as she looked down at the final cake in her hands. "Who am I forgetting to give one to?"

She looked around the room. Everyone had a cake in their hand, neatly wrapped in a scrap of clean cloth tied shut with a bit of colourful ribbon.

"Oh, how clever of you, Kitten," Isabella said soothingly, putting her arm comfortingly around the elf's shoulders. "You even made one for yourself!"

"I did? Oh, yes, I mean... I did!" Merrill exclaimed, a suddenly smile lighting her face. Isabella smiled warmly at her, patted her arm, and sashayed off to pigeonhole Hawke about something.

She was a little disappointed that no one ate their cake right away, but then Varric had just given them all a quite generous meal in celebration of having sold the last of the hoard from the Deep Roads expedition three years ago, and it had included an entire array of different desserts, so perhaps it was for the best that they would wait and enjoy them later. She hoped they liked them.