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“Hey,” Varric greets with a big smile as she walks over to their table. He sweeps the coppers away from the center of the table and into his own pile.
“You cheat,” Fenris states bitterly.
Varric ignores him. “Where have you been all day, Killer?”
“Fishing.”
The whole table stops to look at her with varying levels of disbelief evident on their faces. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”
“You fish?” Fenris asks.
“Yes, why is that so hard to believe? Aveline has joined me before.”
“Aveline I can believe,” Varric tells her. “But you? Not so much.”
“Why not?” Moira asks, already bristling a little. “Am I not allowed to have hobbies?”
“Sure you are,” Anders chimes in. “But we always assumed your hobbies would involve a lot more bloodshed.”
“Maybe she bashes the little fishies’ heads in after she catches them,” Isabela teases.
“Oh shut up,” Moira says. “Or I’ll bash your heads in.”
Isabela flutters her long eyelashes at her and leans forward in a way that pushes her breasts together. “If you want me to shut up you’ll have to make me.”
Moira leans in as well with a smirk spreading across her face. “Oh I’ll do more than-“
“Yuck!” Bethany complains.
Moira snaps back upright. “Bethy. Didn’t realize you were here.”
Bethany is holding a pitcher. “Yes, well I’m suddenly wishing I wasn’t.”
“Oh Sweetness, don’t be jealous,” Isabela coos. “Most of the men in this tavern would be happy to take you home. Let me help you pick one out!”
Bethany flushes. “I’m not jealous!”
“Isabela,” Varric scolds. “Leave poor Sunshine alone.”
“And don’t take any advice on men from Isabela,” Anders warns. “That’s how you end up itchy in places the sun doesn’t shine.”
Fenris snorts at that despite his hatred for the mage.
“Hey,” Moira points a finger at him with no real heat. “You shouldn’t talk about a woman like that.” Then with a grin, “But seriously, Bethy. Don’t take advice from Isabela.”
“Oh, you people are no fun! My taste in men isn’t all bad.” And then with a snap of her fingers, “Oh! You should take Fenris for a ride!”
“Kaffas, no!”
At the same time Moira says, “Only if he’s in the market to be skinned alive.”
Bethany’s face is positively scarlet now. “I’m going home,” she declares, trying her best to sound serious and not mortified.
“Alright, alright.” Varric raises his hands. “That’s enough. Come on, Sunshine. Come sit with me. And the rest of you, shut your traps.”
Anders coughs then and it sounds suspiciously like Bela’s name.
Bethany reluctantly goes to sit in the open chair beside Varric.
“Are we going to gamble or not?” Fenris asks gruffly. He does a good job of pretending to be unaffected but the red that stains his face and all the way to the tips of his ears gives him away.
“Alright,” Moira agrees. “Deal me in.” She pulls a chair up next to Bela and throws one arm over the back of the pirate’s chair. Her fingers just barely brush the other woman’s bare shoulder.