Summary: Isabela wants to have some fun - at someone's expense, of course.
Pairings: Isabela centric friendship fic
Author's Note:
Takes place sometime right before Act II. All feedback welcome, regardless of nature.

Honey and Beetles
by wayfaringpanda

Merrill had barely set foot into the Hanged Man before a hand clapped over her mouth and she was dragged into the back corner. It didn't even occur to her to try and cast a spell. Firstly, she was much better at dealing with assaults that weren't a surprise - it was hard to sneak up on Hawke, she'd discovered, as apparently no one ever tried. Second, she was so used to getting her belongings stolen if they weren't directly in her hand that she had stopped carrying anything with her at all. Varric had her on his tab at the pub, and if she went to buy things from the Market she always headed straight there and back again. Whoever accosted her was left empty-handed, which meant that by now she was mostly left alone.

Besides, despite the years it had been since Isabela had sailed, she still always smelled faintly of brine and wind, underneath the ever-present stench of piss-poor whiskey.

"You're lucky I'm not trying to steal your virtue, Kitten," Isabela said huskily as she practically tossed the tiny elf into a chair in the dark gloom of the corner. She slid next to her, keeping an eye on the rest of the room, back squarely set to the wall.

"Steal my virtue?" Merrill asked, puzzled. "How do you steal someone's virtue? Do you-"

"I need your help with something," Isabela interrupted, giving Merrill a small smile.

Merrill's green eyes widened. "Ooh, are we going to do something sneaky, then? Put mud in someone's shoes?"

"Merrill."

"Dye Bodahn's clothes pink?"

"Merrill!"

"I know, we're going to sew kitten patches onto Anders' robes."

"First of all," Isabela said with exasperation. "Where's your imagination? We've already done all that. Hawke said if we ruined Fenris' boots again she'd put mud in my mouth, and Bodahn still won't speak to me." She couldn't help but snicker. "You know Anders left one of the kittens on the inside of his sleeve, where he thought no one would see it."

"I know," Merrill said with equanimity. "That's why I stitched it there."

Isabela blinked at that, then shook her head. "Oh-kay. Listen, Kitten, here's the thing. I heard someone in here saying some very nasty things. Some things I took offense to. So we're going to teach him a lesson."

Merrill tilted her head, frowning slightly. "But you don't take offense, Isabela."

"Not usually, no," Isabela agreed. "However, he wasn't talking about me. And it wasn't just words. Look, are you going to help me or not?"

The elf smiled, her eyes crinkling slightly. "Of course, Isabela. I always have the best fun when I'm with you. Well, when I'm not alone with Hawke, anyway. Or with Hawke in general. Besides Hawke, I have the most fun with you. Oh, I'm making a mess of this. Shutting up."

Isabela laughed, drawing a few glances from those nearby. She quickly quieted down, still chuckling. "You're fun too, Kitten." She leaned forward, still grinning. "So here's the plan…"


"Well aren't you a strapping young man," Isabela cooed, hooking a finger through the man's belt as she pulled him closer to her area of the bar. "Come to treat me to a drink, are you?"

Already a bit drunk, the young guardsman grinned at her, his eyes sweeping up and down. They widened slightly at her considerable assets. "Sure," he said. "Anything you want."

Isabela grinned, waving at the bartender. He came over, and she grabbed the stein, passing it to her new companion. He didn't notice the small pinch of herbs she dropped into it. "So what's a finely dressed fellow like you doing in here?" she asked, taking a swig of her own drink.

"Celebratin' my big break," he said proudly. "I'm moving up in the world, I am." He fingered the clothes. They were obviously used, but still fine. Recently purchased, most likely. "I just got a change in shift."

"Guardsman, are you?" Isabela said, eyes widening in fascination. "Are you doing something dangerous? Taking on raiders on the Wounded Coast?"

He shook his head hastily. "No, nothing like that. Bit too dangerous for my like." He winked at her. "I've been laying it on just right with the boss, got myself moved to the Merchant's Guild. Not too long until I'm in the Hightown Markets, if I do this right like."

"Your captain a good man, then?"

The guardsman scoffed. "She's not bad, for a woman. And a Fereldan, I suppose. Lots of the men like her, but I just think she doesn't do things they way they ought to be done." He waved a hand in the direction of the Lowtown markets. "Why shouldn't we get a bit extra from those lots? Or down by the Docks?" He shrugged. "It's easier to get away with in the Hightown Market. They move a lot of goods that aren't on the books, but it's a lot safer than Darktown."

"You sound like a smart man," Isabela said, eyes shining. "What'd you do to pull the wool over her eyes, anyway? Get her to move you up in the world?"

He grinned, somewhat darkly. "Guard-Captain wouldn't know what to do with a man if he ended up in nothing but his socks in her bunk, if you catch my drift. A little bit of spit-shine, some words thrown her way, and she's so flustered she'd do anything to get you out of the office." He snickered. "Not that I cross any lines, mind. Just enough to keep her off kilter, see."

"But what if she started to flirt back?" Isabela asked, pushing away from him slightly.

"No worries, sweets," he said, pulling her close again. "I don't go after man-eaters. I like my women… well, more like you." He hiccuped, then. "I'll just lead her on, like, so as to get what I want."

She motioned for another drink, watching as he shook his head slightly to clear the sudden fuzziness. "Good to hear," she said, handing him his next round. "This one's on me."


"He's a heavy thing, isn't he?" Merrill panted as she helped Isabela lug the guardsman out of the Hanged Man, towards the alley.

"Well, we couldn't very do this while he was awake, could we?" Isabela practically snapped, wishing she couldn't smell the man's body odor. "Those herbs you found me worked like a charm. You have the other stuff?" She managed to help Merrill get him to the wheelbarrow they had waiting, slinging him into it unceremoniously.

"Oh, yes," Merrill said. "It took me a bit to track the beetles, I almost didn't have them in time. You'd never guess where I found their nest. Inside a dead dog, would you believe it?"

Isabela turned slightly green at the thought. "Really?" she asked, no hint of actual curiosity in her voice. She and Merrill started to haul the wheelbarrow away.

"I know!" Merrill exclaimed breathily. "In that area of the city, I would have thought someone would've eaten the thing before the beetles got to it."


Aveline had been having problems with Hamel for over a fortnight, now. She'd let him push her into a corner more than once, and it bothered her. She knew he was doing it on purpose, and she'd been letting him get away with it. There was no beating around it, it would have to be dealt with. Soon. She just hoped he wouldn't push her. He looked a bit like Wesley, after a fashion, and she wasn't quite sure how to handle that. Maybe she should just see what he had in mind…?

She'd just stepped into her office when there was a knock on the door. It was still a bit before the other guardsmen usually showed up for orders, so she approached it with some apprehension. Maybe she'd get lucky and it'd be Hawke, fresh from one of her nighttime romps through the city in search of bandits to slay.

Guardsman Jenna stood there, face flush. "Guard-Captain," she said, voice strangely embarrassed. "You better come quick."

Alarmed, Aveline reached for her shield, quickly strapping it on. "What's going on, guardsman?"

"It's nothing dangerous," Jenna said hastily, leading the way up the stairs. "Nobody knows how it happened without anyone noticing. He just… appeared there."

"Who?" Aveline demanded.

Jenna just led the way, out the front gates and down the causeway. When they reached the stairs leading to the square, she pointed down.

At the bottom of the stairs was a pair of guardsmen, standing facing out into the center of the large open area. Behind them, shielded as best they could from the ever-larger crowd, was what appeared to be a man stripped down to nothing but his smallclothes and socks, hollering up a storm. His wrists were tied to the small monument that sat in the middle of the stairs, and he was left on display for all to see.

Aveline took the stairs as fast as possible. She got there to see that it was, in fact, Ser Hamel who had been left so indecorously in front of the viscount's estate. Not only was he unclothed, but he had been slathered with what looked to be a honey-like product, from his face down to his ankles. He seemed to be shifting about constantly as well, crossing and uncrossing his legs repeatedly.

"Hamel?" she asked, eyebrows furrowed.

"Guard-Captain!" the man said, sounding almost pathetic in his despair. "Tell them to hurry up, will you?"

"We sent for a smith, Guard-Captain," one of the other men said. It was then that she noticed he was tied with small chains, locked together, instead of rope.

"What happened?" she asked, looking him over. She noticed him almost frantically shifting his legs.

He snarled. "It was that whore in the Hanged Man, I know she did this to me! Blasted pirate hag."

Aveline could feel her eye twitch. "Pirate hag?" She eyed him coolly. "Hamel, aren't you supposed to be on watch already? What were you doing at the Hanged Man drinking before patrol?'

Hamel winced. "I, er, was just popping in for a drink. Didn't mean to get drunk, Guard-Captain."

After a moment, Aveline nodded. She looked at the other guardsmen. "You have other places you need to be, yes? Get back to them."

Sharing a startled look, they nodded and moved on, leaving Hamel there for the gawkers to see.

"Guard-Captain!" he whined, looking about frantically. "You can't leave me here!"

"I'm not," Aveline said. "The smith will be by as soon as he can. You'll clean up, then report to take over Ser Nuic's patrol. He's due for the Wounded Coast all week." She watched him sag against his restraints before turning and walking towards the crowd.

In the back, behind everyone else, Hawke stood, eyeing the scene with amusement. Merrill was with her, pestering Fenris, who looked quite bored with the entire situation. Isabela was trying her best to not fall over laughing.

Aveline walked straight up to Isabela, getting in her face. "Keep your hands off my guardsmen, whore," she hissed, before turning abruptly and stalking back towards the keep, ears burning slightly. Trust Isabela to get her hooks into one of the first men to show Aveline any interest.

"Shouldn't we tell her?" Merrill asked, having caught what happened just as Aveline walked away.

"Nah," Isabela said, wiping a tear from her eye. "It's funnier this way."

Hawke looked between the two. "Merrill, is this going to bite me in the ass?" she asked, glancing over at the elf.

Merrill smiled at her. "Not as much as those beetle fragments in his smallclothes."