Ruin me

"I'll bet you five sovereigns that, before the night ends, Isabela will have Hawke wrapped around her little finger," Varric challenged, grinning widely at the interaction between the two. At first everyone was more than aware of Hawke's carefully disguised distaste for the dusky skinned woman. But then Hawke walked in on the conversation between Anders and Isabela, and it hadn't been that carefully disguised anymore. In fact, there were plenty of times when Hawke batted away Isabela's attempts to get into her pants, both physically and verbally. There were no indications of them ending on a good note, but there was a subtle blush in the champion's cheeks that he was willing to wager on. "Or, well, maybe not so much her finger as her—"

"Preposterous," Aveline scoffed, interrupting the dwarf. "I've known Hawke for quite some time. She wouldn't throw away her principles for that pirate whore."

"So you're on, then?" Varric took a generous gulp of his ale, prying his eyes away from the women.

"Definitely," she agreed, reaching out to shake his hand and take the deal.

"Isabela," Hawke scolded, shooting the woman in question a disapproving look. They were at the Hanged Man, enjoying an evening off. She hadn't thought twice about accepting a plate of grapes from the pirate, since, recently, she had been all too focused on not being cut up into a million pieces rather than monitoring her intake of healthy foods. Taking it as a friendly gesture, she reached over for a piece of fruit, only to have her hand swatted away.

"These don't come around easy, sailor," Isabela pointed out with a small foreboding grin, seating herself in a chair closest to the champion. "They're out of season."

Hawke slumped back into her chair while sighing. "Fine, what do you want?"

"I want nothing from our precious leader other than her undying respect, and it hurts me that you'd think otherwise," the pirate jibed with a smile. For some reason, Hawke had the feeling that Isabela meant to say the exact opposite of what came out of her mouth.

"Sure," Hawke muttered, and gulped down the remains of what passed as an alcoholic beverage. The ale tasted more bitter than usual, but nothing was certain in the Hanged Man. Especially the quality of the drinks.

"Let me feed them to you."

Hawke choked on her drink, barely able to save her pants from being soaked through with cheap ale. Isabela reached over and patted her back while she heaved. Some of those coughs sounded surprisingly a lot like 'hell no'.

"Let's make it into a game," Isabela proposed, completely unhindered. She continued to rub her back in soothing circles. "You can ask me anything you like, and if I answer incorrectly, you may dare me to do whatever."

For a moment, Hawke was seriously considering just blowing her off, but then she became aware of the possibilities. "Even remain chaste for an entire week?"

Isabela narrowed her eyes at the woman, almost going as far as to pout. "Yes, even that." She grinned, noting how Hawke hadn't pushed her hand away even though she had already regained her breath. "You may even order me to raise your sail," she purred as she pressed her chest into the champion's arm.

"Yes, lovely," Hawke answered, trying and succeeding in appearing to be unaffected. In some cases, it got more under Isabela's skin if she didn't react to her taunts. "What kind of questions?"

"Any questions with answers that can be verified," she answered smoothly, making herself comfortable at the woman's side. "Your imagination is the limit."

Hawke narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "What do you get if you answer correctly?"

"I get to feed you." The look she sent the champion was dripping with intentions, making Hawke wonder what exactly she was getting herself into. She didn't understand why the pirate was so keen on feeding her in the first place. The temptation was too strong, however. This could be her chance to leash the woman.

"Okay," Hawke agreed, allowing her own smile to play on her lips. "What runes are worked into my boots?"

"Hmn." She never took her eyes away from piercing blue. It unnerved Hawke slightly how easily Isabela could make a show of looking into her soul, but she didn't budge. The distance between them – practically nonexistent – didn't particularly help either. "Fire resistance." At Hawke's dumbfounded look, she reached for a piece of fruit. "Open wide, lover."

Reluctantly, Hawke opened her mouth, somewhat surprised that Isabela opted to just pop in the fruit without sensually running her fingers across anything. "You're not hitting on me," she observed through her mouthful. The grapes were surprisingly sweet, despite being out of season.

"Am I?" she asked coyly, squeezing Hawke's shoulder, thereby emphasizing their closeness.

"Good point," Hawke relented with a nod. She folded her arms. "What was my sister's name?"

"Bethany." Hawke's jaw slackened at the ease with which she answered, and the brunette took the opportunity to drop another grape into her mouth. The champion barely remembered to chew on her food. "Oh, don't look so surprised, pet. I have ears for a reason."

"Okay, those were pretty common questions." She nodded her thanks as a barmaid refilled her tankard, then grinned at Isabela. "What colour underwear am I wearing?"

The woman blinked in response, and Hawke briefly counted a victory for herself. "My, my, I didn't think you had it in you." In the few seconds Isabela distracted her with her fake surprise, the smuggler had sneaked a hand to her middle and pried her pants away from her flesh. Hawke yelped at the sudden intrusion and jumped away, but the brief peek had been enough. "Red," she answered with a bright smile.

"You cheat," Hawke accused with a frown.

"I don't remember there being any such rules, lover." She shifted, and in one swift motion, Isabela was sitting on her lap. Hawke sputtered, but the pirate could somehow counter her twitches in such a way that made her sit still entirely. It may have had something to do with the way those hips moved on top of her. "So this earns me another way to feed you," she emphasised, holding up another grape.

Hawke huffed in annoyance before taking the piece of fruit. "I need a drink," she stated, reaching over to get her drink and proceeding to down at least half of it in one go. It tasted awful, but it burned nicely in her throat and dulled her sense accordingly. "What did I get for my tenth birthday?"

"Darling, I doubt even your dear brother knows."

"A book called 'the Mage's creed'," she answered for her, leaning forward to replace her drink on the table. It wasn't until she felt the breath against her neck that she realized how much she'd been pressed up against the woman. She quickly leaned back in her chair, as far away from the pirate as possible. "I dare you to be monogamous until the next moon cycle."

Isabela leaned forwards with a salacious grin, resting her hands on the back of the wooden chair. "Hawke, are you propositioning me?"

"Oh please." She rolled her eyes, hoping to cover up the fact that she had nowhere to put her hands now that her lap was taken. "I hardly doubt I fit into your tight schedule of debauchery with strange men and women."

"Is that jealousy I hear?" the pirate questioned teasingly, tilting her head. She leaned forwards still, causing Hawke to press herself further into the chair. She stopped just short of anything inappropriate, however.

"Don't be ridiculous," Hawke bit despite the rosy colour in her cheeks becoming more predominant. With a scoff, she turned away from the other woman and tried to think of her next question even as she was distracted by the sweet smell on Isabela's breath. She shot the brunette as sharp look. "When was the last time you had a sinfest?"

Isabela's eyebrows rose. "That is your next question?"

Hawke rolled her eyes at another one of her trademark smiles. "I'll know if you're lying."

"Hmmmn." She made a show of thinking, even going as far as to rest a finger against her chin. Her eyes ran over the Champion armour Hawke neglected to take off that night. "I haven't found a proper sword to fill my scabbard since you've slain that pretty little dragon."

"Pretty… little…?" The incredulous look on her face was priceless as far as Isabela was concerned. "It was a High Dragon and I still have the scars to prove it! You were there!" Despite that Hawke made all sorts of outraged gestures, for some miraculous reason, the pirate remained seated.

"Really? Scars?" She brightened noticeably, though that may have had something to do with Hawke unknowingly resting her hands on her hips. "Can I see them?"

"There is just no dealing with you," Hawke muttered, averting her eyes and huffing for what felt like the umpteenth time. In response, Isabela simply smiled at the mage in amusement. "Wait." She turned to narrow her eyes at the woman. "That was moon cycles ago. There is no way you could've remained chaste that long."

"I have my reasons." Isabela shrugged half-heartedly. They were reasons she herself couldn't quite grasp. That faithful day they went dragon slaying, she'd been on the brink of being fried to a crisp more than once, but Hawke had always been in the vicinity to throw her a quick heal or counter the attack with her own magic. She felt more cared for in the heat of battle than she did in the arms of a capable stranger. It was odd and frustrating and ruined her usual carefree fun, but there was nothing she could do about it. Well, other than turn to a playful game of questions with the person who would always have her back, even in the face of humongous fire breathing adversaries.

Hawke grimaced slightly at the prospect of being fed again. "You're not kidding."

"I never kid," she responded with a victorious grin. She reached over for another piece of fruit. "Open wide, precious."

"I bet you say that to all the girls," Hawke muttered with a twitch of a smile.

Isabela guffawed at the sudden comment. "Hawke, making a joke? Is it a blue moon outside?" she questioned, going as far as to catch a glimpse of the night sky through one of the windows.

"It must be if I allow myself to be fed like this." She crinkled her nose, shooting the grape an accusing look.

"Nonsense. You're just finally loosening up." The pirate squeezed Hawke's shoulder with her free hand and gave her a wink. "Our champion just needs a little down time, is all."

She sent her a glare. "Are you implying that I'm usually uptight?"

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to imply anything." Hawke seemed genuinely appeased by that for a moment. "I meant to say that you've got to loosen that stick up your ass every once in a while," she explained, throwing the grape into her own mouth in an offhanded fashion.

"I do not have a stick up my ass," the champion growled, hands tightening into fists on Isabela's thighs and briefly crackling with power. The impending danger sent a pleasant shudder up the pirate's spine.

"Care to prove me wrong?" Isabela proposed innocently. Warning bells went off in Hawke's head, but the alcohol was making her ignorant and Isabela was truly the best at what she did.

"Not a day goes by without," Hawke snapped.

"Feisty," the brunette cooed appreciatively, her grin only widening. She took another grape and showed it to the Champion. "All you have to do is eat it." Before Hawke could question why that would prove she wasn't uptight, Isabela had already popped it into her mouth.

Hawke stared at her in disbelief, jaw dislodging for a second time that evening. The pirate simply raised an eyebrow expectantly and waited for the woman to make her move, positioning the grape between her teeth.

Aveline looked on incredulously, the game of cards she'd started with Varric temporarily forgotten. "She wouldn't," she muttered, not aware that she'd dropped her hands enough for the dwarf to get a glimpse of her cards.

"Want to bet another five sovereigns she will?" he asked. Seeing the high cards the fighter had, he folded before following Aveline's line of vision.

The redhead narrowed her eyes at Varric, but nodded nevertheless. "You should have more faith in Hawke."

"And you should have more faith in Isabela," he countered with a big smile.

Not giving her the satisfaction of protesting, Hawke went in for the kill. At first, the grape was easily accessible and could be eaten with minimum contact, yet Isabela found it necessary to let it roll back onto her tongue. Hawke paused momentarily, but at the provoking look in those dark eyes – that were now dangerously close – she carried on and closed her lips over those of the smuggler. Despite that she was definitely not paying attention to the softness of her lips or the skilful acrobatics of that tongue, Hawke couldn't seem to get a grip on the piece of fruit that, miraculously, stayed in one piece. Every time she had the opportunity to nudge it into her mouth, Isabela's tongue swiped it away from her reach.

For all that they were now officially making out, Hawke didn't lose sight of her goal. After the tenth teasing swipe, she realized she was going at it all wrong. With a satisfied mental pat on her imaginary shoulder, she applied her new tactic and focused on caressing that annoyingly skilful tongue with her own. For a moment longer, it remained playful yet, but then it relented under her languorous strokes. The presence of the fruit was too predominant for either of them to really get lost in the kiss, yet Hawke managed to pull a moan from the pirate nevertheless.

Successfully stealing the grape from the other woman, the Champion pulled away. The kiss had by all means affected her – she'd have to be dead not to feel the pleasant tingling that Isabela left in her wake – but she hadn't been conscious to what extent until she gazed at the brunette as she caught her breath. The woman was looking at her through heavy-lidded, darkened eyes. Hawke hadn't realized when it had happened, but a hand was also threaded in her short, dark locks and the other was lazily trailing her jaw.

Aveline was thunking her forehead against the wooden table.

"Pay up, sweetheart," Varric said, holding up his hand.

She sat up, shooting the dwarf a deviant look. "All or nothing! They don't leave together on good terms. Winner gets all."

"Either I get my gold now or later." He shrugged. "It's a deal."

"So our hero is a champion in more areas than one," Isabela breathed. "Who would've known?"

Hawke was helpless to stare as the woman licked her lips and edged a little closer in her lap. Her hands fell to circle around her neck, and Hawke was acutely aware of the movement of her hips as she moved up. She breathed in sharply. The Champion's hands grasped at those thighs to keep them from moving. Pleading blue eyes looked up into darker ones. "What do you want from me?"

"Who says I want anything from you?" she asked, never breaking eye contact as she gently coaxed the sharp gauntlet from her thigh. Realizing the sharp points were hurting the woman, Hawke eased her hand away, allowing Isabela to hold it in hers. "Why can't we drift to wherever the flow takes us?"

"Because your boat seems to dock at every pretty little port it comes across," Hawke replied softly.

Hurt briefly flashed in the pirate's eyes, and for the first time that evening, she turned away. "If that's the problem, then perhaps it's better we part ways here." She made to get up, but the metal-clad hand held her down. Hawke's face turned a deep shade of pink that exceeded any and all blushes she might have displayed that night. Isabela raised a questioning brow.

"You're going to be monogamous for a while," she said, not sure what to look at. At the lack of any further explanation, Isabela realized that was all she was going to get. The brunette smirked.

"So you were propositioning me!" she exclaimed happily.

"Ssssssh," Hawke tried to shush her even as they were drawing stares. Or, well, more than before. Isabela briefly wondered if the blush spread across the rest of her body. "This is no place to be discussing this." The mage, for all her lack in physical action, managed to stand up with the woman in her arms.

"Oooh. Are you taking the wench to your lair to have your wicked way with her?" she questioned, chuckling as she was carried out the door.

Hawke shook her head in amusement. "You'd like that way too much."

"Did Hawke just…?" Aveline stared at the door Hawke carried Isabela out of, not believing her eyes. She shook the thought off, then shot Varric a glare. "This is all an elaborate scheme to rid me of my hard-earned money. Hawke and Isabela are in on this."

Varric leaned his cheek against a closed fist, smiling at her disbelief. "Do you really think they'd do that for money?"

"Isabela most certainly would," Aveline concluded immediately, almost vehemently. The more she thought on it, however, the less sense it made for the other woman involved. "But Hawke has everything she needs and more." She shot Varric a look. "Did you promise her anything?"

Varric simply threw his head back in exasperation and sighed. "What will it take to convince you I had no hand in this?"

"A signed agreement and personal testimony. Perhaps a monitoring of Isabela and Hawke's income."

Now it was Varric's turn to shoot her a look.

"But I realize that since Hawke and Isabela are now otherwise occupied, sham or not, that would be too much to ask for." She folded her arms and frowned thoughtfully. After a moment, "Varric, I have a proposition."

Hawke started regretting picking up Isabela by the time they were halfway across Lowtown. It was dark and despite having cleared out the majority of bandits, there were always more around the corner. It was no time to be stumbling around drunk. Not only were her arms starting to become numb, but the pirate found it highly amusing to whisper all sorts of dirty things into her ear as her hands wandered across her outfit. Needless to say, in addition to her barely useful arms, her legs were turning to jello as well.

"What are you doing?" Hawke asked once Isabela's hands got a little too curious around the edges of her armour. She lifted the woman in her arms with a huff, getting a better grip on the heavy weight.

"Trying to find those blasted secret latches," she said distractedly, tugging at a decorative belt.

Hawke chuckled. "What a patient woman you are."

At that, Isabela backed away to look at Hawke with playful annoyance. "I'm not the one who's continuously groping the wench."

"I'm doing no such thing—" It was then that Hawke noticed how exactly she was holding up the pirate. She supposed that, looking back on it, it was silly of her to try and preserve Isabela's honour. Maybe it was the alcohol still pleasantly flowing through her system making her think that Isabela was like any other woman, but she quickly tried to shimmy her hands away from the woman's lower anatomy. What she didn't expect was for her body to protest. With aching arms and feeble legs, the hefty weight that shifted as she held her was all that was needed for Hawke to lose balance and tip over. She let out an utterance of surprise as she went down, not realizing she was going down first until hard stone bit into her back harshly. Her armour having taken most of the impact, she shook off the surprise and checked to see if Isabela was alright. She was sitting on top of her, untouched, by all means straddling her waist.

Isabela's incredulous stare was only interrupted by repeated blinking, and then she was laughing. It was honest and loud, forcing her to bend over and unwittingly bring their faces together.

"It's not that funny," Hawke said sheepishly, unable to keep from reciprocating with a smile. With arms tingling uncomfortably and her legs deemed untrustworthy, she couldn't help but let Isabela's playful mood drag her along.

"Oh. Oh! But it is!" she exclaimed through laughs and giggles. With barely any composure to speak of, she patted Hawke's cheek in a mock comforting gesture. "The great hero of Kirkwall, felled by one lonesome girl." Though her mirth had died down somewhat, the comment reignited some of the merriment and she was chuckling again.

"I'd hardly call you a girl," the champion remarked, smile widening as Isabela finally calmed down. "Or lonesome."

"That's the part you want to contend?" She leaned back and folded her arms in amusement. "I'm not so sure you're the great hero of Kirkwall," she added thoughtfully. Any and all seriousness she was trying to convey melted away as a smile appeared on her lips. "I hardly doubt you can sit up right now, let alone blast away your enemies with a single look." She paused. "I'm not going to drag you home, just so you know."

Hawke laughed at that, and, just to prove a point, made an attempt to sit up. She was held back by a couple of hands on her shoulders, however. There was in no way enough pressure to keep her down against her will, but confused eyes looked up at the pirate anyway.

"Felled by a lone woman," Isabela remarked, smiling impishly.

With a half-hearted sigh, Hawke leaned her head back against the pavement. "And what a woman she is," she breathed exasperatedly, still acutely aware of her arms resting limply at her side.

"What kind of woman may that be?" It wasn't until she spoke that Hawke realized how close the pirate had gotten, no doubt to seduce a pretty answer from her. It would've worked too, but she was under the effects of a pleasant rush that made her bolder than usual.

"That depends," she began, smiling a misleading smile. The refreshing night air barely kept the rosy hue from her cheeks. "Is my coin purse still where it's supposed to be?"

"I have an inkling it might not be fore long," she jibed right back, though there was hardly any edge to her voice.

"Fine, fine." Hawke huffed in playful indignation. "On the day that you were born, angels got together and decided to create a dream come true."

Isabela chuckled at the comment, but seemed to be genuinely appeased. She leaned in to close the remaining distance between them. "That's my girl," she whispered, before pushing onwards and kissing the Champion.

Hawke hummed in contentment.

Aveline looked on slack-jawed from their hiding spot behind a couple of wooden boxes.

"Who would've known?" Varric commented absentmindedly as the two women kissed. "Hawke is a poet at heart."

Aveline snapped out of her stupor. "That's what surprises you?"

"That, and Hawke likes to be on bottom." He tilted his head thoughtfully, continuing to watch as their kiss escalated. "Or maybe she can't move."

"We have to interrupt them. Maker, they're in a public place!" she proclaimed, already on her feet, but was held back by a hand on her forearm.

"Isabela won't ravage her on the streets."

"Because you two agreed not to?" Aveline narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

Varric rolled his eyes. "Because she's not stupid. Besides, she looks like she wants to take her time. They've only kissed twice."

"If you can call having your soul sucked out kissing," she muttered, settling back down.

Isabela smirked as she heard – and saw, for the matter – the all too familiar commotion Aveline was causing a little distance away. Varric had proven to be a rightful sneaky bastard, but the warrior's bulky armour was far from adequate for stalking around. However, the vague hint of a plan that was slowly forming in the back of her mind was expertly disrupted by Hawke's tongue doing this thing that made her weak in the legs. Blanking on the matter, she decided that whatever Aveline and Varric were doing would surely bite them in the ass eventually, and that she really, really needed to get Hawke alone between now and very soon.

Isabela chuckled against Hawke's lips as the Champion followed her when she made to sit up. "Down girl," she said in amusement, placing her fingers on the hero's lips to keep her from stealing another kiss – as much as it pained her to do it. Hawke reluctantly ceased her attempt and opened her eyes to shoot the woman a quizzical look. "As much as I like my indecencies public, the middle of the road in Lowtown is a whole new level of shameless."

Hawke, previously immobilized both mentally and physically, finally noted her whereabouts. "That simply won't do," she said absentmindedly. For a moment, Isabela thought Hawke was out of there due to the alcohol and an overload of pheromones, but then the woman shot her a positively wicked smile. Before she could comprehend the meaning behind that smile, an unseen force lifted her up and placed her neatly into Hawke's arms, who was miraculously, back on her feet.

"Hmn," Isabela purred at the use of magic, circling her arms around the woman's neck. "Is this a preview of what's going to happen tonight?"

Hawke blinked several times, trying to get the fog to lift enough for her to catch what Isabela was saying. "Tonight?"

Aveline palmed her face as Hawke stumbled across Lowtown while allowing Isabela to keep whispering shameless nothings into her ear.

"Convinced yet or do you need a peek through Hawke's bedroom window as well?" Varric asked, smug grin in place.

Aveline dropped her hand and shot Varric a sharp look. "No amount of gold—!" She sighed, shoulders sagging from their tense position. "I've seen me enough to last a lifetime," she said, producing the required sovereigns to pay for the bet. Varric happily received his winnings from a grumbling Aveline. "I'll have to force a hearty one-to-one with Hawke tomorrow."

Halfway across Lowtown, Hawke shuddered for a reason that was unknown to her.