Varric looked around the room. For the second night in a row, everyone was gathering in his room at the Hanged Man, though tonight's gathering was unplanned. Merrill had spent the day here, Varric and her having spent much of the morning in mutually enjoyable activities and then the remainder and much of the afternoon in sleep. By then it was close enough to dinner time that he'd invited her to stay for the meal.

Isabella had shown up with their food, having apparently been out all night and slept the day away; she made her breakfast off of their supper. She seemed in quite a good mood; Varric guessed the feisty woman had made a fresh conquest the night before, and that he'd hear all the salacious details in due course, though possibly not until after the elf left.

And then Anders had wandered in, looking remarkably relaxed, and actually carrying a glass of strong drink.

"I thought Justice didn't let you drink?" Isabella enquired curiously.

He smiled. "Justice and I have reached an accommodation. I can drink now, as long as it's not to excess. So no getting pie-eyed drunk, but I can enjoy myself occasionally."

"Well! Sounds like he's loosened up!" Isabella said.

Anders smirked. "You might say that," he agreed, and settled down in a seat at the table, quickly claiming the leftovers from the meal.

Isabella and Varric exchanged a look, sensing a story there, but before they could probe further, the door opened again, letting in Fenris and Sebastian. Sebastian, rather than being dressed in his usual gleaming white-and-gold armour and silver mail, was wearing a simple loose shirt and drawstring pants, the cloth rough and undyed. His habitual slight frown was also gone, replaced by a peaceful smile. Fenris was standing very close to him, his usual remote distaste replaced by a faint smile.

"Good evening, all," Sebastian said cheerfully, drawing out a chair and sitting down as well, Fenris claiming the one next to his and nodding at the others gathered around the table.

"Lost your fancy armour somewhere, choir-boy?" Varric asked.

"No," Sebastian said. "I have put it aside for now. Elthina has granted me dispensation to withdraw from the chantry for a while, to consider what path my future holds for me, whether it be the priesthood or a princedom. I have put aside both my princely armour and my priestly robes, and will wear plain clothes like any common man while I meditate on the question. Though if Hawke wishes me to accompany him still, I have kept my good bow, and acquired a set of less princely armour to wear."

"Withdrawn from the chantry?" Merrill asked curiously. "Does that mean you need a place to live?"

"No, he's staying with me for now," Fenris spoke up calmly. "I have rooms to spare, and could use the company."

Isabella and Varric exchanged another look.

The door opened again, and Aveline came in, looking pink-cheeked from sun and wind. She paused, seeing everyone that was already gathered, and then smiled. "Hello. I was passing by and thought I'd come in to say hello.

Everyone murmured different variations of hello back to her as she took a seat at the table as well, as far from Isabella as she could manage – normal for her – but without the two women exchanging their usual cutting repartee, Varric noted.

Anders had polished off the last of the leftovers. "Too bad we didn't leave you any dessert," Isabella said, amused, as he noisily licked off his fingertips.

He grinned, then glanced at Merrill. "That reminds me – I wanted to thank you for the gift from yesterday, Merrill. I had it before bed last night, it was delicious."

"It was," Isabella agreed, smiling at Merrill. "You're a good cook, Kitten."

Merrill smiled happily as everyone praised her baking. "Thank you," she said. "I was so worried I was going to mess them up, somehow... I didn't start making them until late, and I was so tired!" She frowned. "The flavour didn't come out quite what I thought I remembered, but they were good anyway."

"The flavour..." Fenris said, frowning in thought, then suddenly shot to his feet, eyes widening. "Venhedis! That flavour! I remember it now," he said, scowling darkly at Merrill. "Did it amuse you to dose us all with vhenantuthen seeds, witch!" he snarled. "did you not believe I would recognize it for what it was?"

"Vhenan..." she started to say, then paled. "Oh! Oh no, I thought it was an usual seasoning for the recipe to use! I must have been looking at one of the potion recipes in the other books for a moment instead... oh, I'm sorry, so sorry!" she exclaimed, looking horrified, and burst into tears.

Isabella and Varric hurriedly comforted the distraught elf, Isabella glaring at Fenris for upsetting her.

"What is this vhenantuthen seed?" Sebastian asked Fenris.

Fenris' jaw tightened, and he looked away for a moment, flushing.

"What is it, elf!" Varric demanded sharply.

"The magisters use it to excite slaves into performing for them," Fenris bit off the words. "Mixed into a paste with lathera root, it is a potent aphrodisiac."

Merrill cried even harder. "I... I put in the root, too!" she exclaimed. "Oh, I'm so sorry, I never meant to..."

Varric started laughing, then gathered the elf into his arms, pulling her into his lap, and hugged her warmly. "Don't cry, Daisy. I'm certainly not going to complain about the outcome," he assured her, and kissed her soundly on one cheek, then looked around the table. "Anyone else here want to complain?" he asked sternly.

There was silence, and everyone was either looking uneasily at the others, or pointedly avoiding looked. Isabella sat back in her chair. "On reflection, no, I have no complaints," she said, speaking in the direction of the ceiling.

Anders smirked, and topped up his now-empty glass from the half-empty bottle of wine at Varric's end of the table. "I certainly am thoroughly pleased. No complaints from me," he said, raising his glass in a silent toast before sipping.

Aveline snorted. Her lips, until then drawn into a thin line, quirked into an amused smile. "Nor me either, I suppose."

"Sebastian? Fenris?" Varric asked.

Sebastian was smiling merrily. "I think the Maker must have been desperate indeed, that it took the help of a blood mage for me to see the light," he said, then looked questioningly at Fenris. "Do you honestly regret what Merrill's mistake led to?" he asked.

Fenris looked down at him for a long moment, then abruptly sat down again. "No. I do not," he said, and openly reached over to set his hand on Sebastian's, causing more than a few eyebrows around the table to rise.

"See, Daisy? It's okay – nothing bad happened," Varric assured her. "Though I'd suggest next time you bake you make sure there's no way you'll look at the wrong recipe by accident. There are worse things you could have added to your baking than just a little something to spice up all our lives."

Merrill calmed down, and Isabella led her off to wash her tear-stained face. By the time the two returned, the two were laughing together about something, and the elf looked much her normal self. Varric had ordered in some snacks and drinks, and everyone was standing around chatting and eating.

Hawke arrived a few minutes later, seeming to take up the whole room just by stepping in through the door. "What! A party, and no one thought to invite me?" he boomed.

Looks were exchanged behind his back as he walked over to pour himself a glass of drink. Isabella quickly spoke up. "We were just talking over what fun the party last night was," she said. "And how delicious the cakes Merrill baked were. Did you eat yours yet?" she asked innocently.

"What? Yes, and it was very good, Merrill – you can bake me another any time!"

"And did you, err... have a good time afterwards?" Anders asked.

"I'll say I did! I nipped over to the Blooming Rose for a while," he said.

More looks were exchanged. "And did you have a really good time there?" Isabella asked.

Hawke shrugged. "About normal, really," he said, and turned away to load up a plate with finger-food.

"Normal?" Merrill said, sounding both relieved and surprised.

A lot of surprised and speculative looks were exchanged behind Hawke's back at that point.

"What does a normal night for you at the Blooming Rose involve, then?" Isabella asked, all innocence.

Hawke turned and looked at the Isabella and Varric suspiciously. "This isn't something you two want to know in order to put it in some of your 'friend fiction', is it?" he asked.

"Oh, no, of course not!" Isabella exclaimed. "Promise!"

Sebastian chimed in, looking and sounding as if butter wouldn't melt in his mouth. "Just, err... intellectual curiosity, Hawke, related to something we were discussing before you arrived."

Hawke shrugged. "Oh, all right then. Well, I went over, and Madam Lusine got my usual room ready. Then Cora dropped by to polish my blade. After she left Keran dropped in for some naughty-templar-and-blood-mage, then Seamus and I played submit-to-the-Qun – that one's fun, though the headdress gives me a headache after a while. And later Harley popped in for some guard-and-bandit, then..."

"Wait, wait, wait!" Varric exclaimed, interrupting him. "And that's a normal night for you at the Rose?"

"Yes," Hawke said, and looked around. "Any more of those little sweet rolls with the nuts left? No? Pity..."

"Hawke," Fenris asked suspiciously. "When you go to the Rose – do you pay, or get paid?"

"People pay for that?" Hawke asked, looking honestly surprised.

Varric and Isabella exchanged another look. Not just a look – a Look.

"You explain it to him, Rivain... I'll go fetch Bianca. Sounds like we might need to go have a little talk with Madam Lusine about her profit margin and what's owed Hawke," Varric said stoutly.

"On it," Isabella said, and headed over to put her arm around Hawke's shoulders – or at least as much of them as she could reach around. "Let me explain some facts of life to you, sweet thing..."

They let him live it down. Eventually!