"Oh, I wasn't expecting you" Isabela said, making her way towards him and quickly reaching him. Hawke was sitting at her table, a glass hold in his hands and eyes that seemed lost into the beverage. Yet she could see his manly profile, the jaw belonging to a strong man, the tanned skin. He looked a little bit older than he was, but that only added to his charm. "Not that I'm complaining" she practically purred, as she leaned on him, her lips brushing against his neck and her breasts meeting his back. She could feels his breath hastening, and flattered as always she reached out for his drink. That was a common game of them.
But this time her sharp instinctct was practicallyically shouting at her. Something was wrong. At first it was the smell of whiskeyey: Hawke hated whiskeyey. Then, his harsh denial: the Champion moved his hands, denying her his drink, and refusing their game. And yet, no words from him.
Isabela panicked. She wasn't used to commitment, let alone to handle what was, clearly, a fight. Or a crisis. The pirate swallowed, her throatth harsh at the same time. Frantically searching for something to say.
"And who the hell were you expecting?"
Hawke spoke all of a sudden that she gasped. Still petrified and so close to him that she could now smell the whiskeyey in his breath too. He stood up and moved back the chair so fast that Isabela was forced to practically jump back in order to avoid to fall on the floor. He didn't turn to face her.
"So?" he pressured her.
His voice, so cold and measured, forced her to close her lips just after she was almost ready to talk. Yes, she had broken his usual composure many times converting it both in rage and in passion, she had angered him many times. But no, he had never used that tone with her. And as far as she know, with no one. He never swore either. Before now.
A single word escaped from her lips, but it came out croacked and low. "Hawke, I don't...".
And then he turned towards her. His glare even worse than his voice: pain and anger dancing in his eyes. He didn't move though, he didn't take a single step. He just held his glass tight.
"Who is it? Your lovely Antivan? Or perhaps the guy you put up a show with in Darktown? The one Aveline was talking about in at mount Vimmark?"
For the first time in her life, the Rivaini was speechless. It may have to do with the fact that jealousy was a whole new matter for her. That, and a growing angst, an increasing fear. Somehow, her tongue loosened by years and years of survival stepped in.
"Ryan, you were there. With me. You told me not to fuck Zevran, and I swear, I didn't".
Isabela tried to keep her voice low, stable, quiet. Instead, the sentence came out kind of hysterical. She was studying his face now, like she wanted to drink every single emotion on his face. To understandstand him, to ease his pain. And she saw his lips twisting into a bitter smirk.
"Exactly! I had to ask you! What if you had been alone with him? And what about the other guy?"
Accusations. To that, Isabela could easily answer. A shadow of her determination and outspokenness roared. "Don't ever treat me like a slut again Hawke, or I swear..!"
"Is this what I waited for for six years?" cut in Hawke. A whisper. But enough for her to shut up.
There was not only anger, but also frustration in his voice. It was anger for sure, what drove him to throw the glass against the wall beside Isabella. By instinctct, the pirate moved on a side and lowered her head, even though the glass's trajectory was decidedly far from her position. As the wooden glass ended up on the floor, running in circles and spreading what was left of the whiskeyey, the Champion slowly drew and incredulousolous gaze on it.
Isabela was, once again, petrified. She had dealt with anger, flirting, violence, aggressiveness. She knew little of love, but suddenlyly an image flashed in her mind. The look on the face of a man she had loved and whose heart had broken. She could see the same, exact expression on Hawke's face.
The pirate took a step forward, letting her words reach him before her touch. She spoke with hesitation, weighing every single word.
"Ryan, I'm sorry. I know it's not enough, but I'm really sorry. I never lied. I told you I was falling in love with you and I wanted to become a better person for you, someone you could be proud of. I swear..". Hawke was still standing at the glass, like mesmerized. He never objected to her reaching his chin and raising it. Isabela, reassured by his compliance, resumed her speech. "..I'm trying. But I can't change overnight". She didn't move. She stood right there, waiting for an answer, or a sign at least. Without even thinking, she started caressing his cheek.
And only then, he moved his gaze to her. Gently, he held his hand and moved it away from his face, absently-minded tracing the lines on her palm. On his face a sad look.
"I should have know, Bela" he said. Not coldly, now, but calmly and sadly. Resigned, she thought as a glimpse of terror raced through her head. "All the times I got angry at you just because you... were being yourself, while you were bringing out the worst of me. But I couldn't help it, Bela, since I met you. I had wanted you for the first time, and when you gave back the tome I thought we weren't so different after all. I waited for you even when you left after the battle with the Arishok. And then when you confessed you were falling in love with me I was sure that...". Hawke suddenlyly stopped talking letting go of Isabela's hand.
"But that's what it is, Hakwe" exclaimed Isabela, now panicking. She moved to reach for his hand again, but a sudden fear of rejection stopped her. "I meant it and I mean it. I meant every word I said. Please don't.."
Hawke laid a finger on her lips. He had done so many times, drawing the line of her lips before making love. Now, there was no passion in the gesture. It was his turn to hesitate, and she could glimpse a flash of shame in his eyes. "I would have waited for you all the time need, Bela, if this was about our... different morals. But I can't accept this. I wouldn't bear to smell another man's scent on you for the Maker knows how long, before you decide your body can settle with mine only. But it was me who was wrong. I should never have tried to change who you are". Hawke hesitated again. "I slept with Merrill, Bela" he confessed then. "We..".
Isabela froze in place. Jealousy, sudden pain. A bit of humiliation.
"You... Kitten?" she whispered, quickly, like the words were burning on her lips.
Avoiding her gaze, Hawke moved in front of the the fireplace. And he told her everything. "When you were far from Kirkwall, I found out I couldn't bear the thought of her hating me because of the Eluvian. But I couldn't please her either. You know..." his voice took a bitter drift "..of my morals. I've always been attached to her, worried for her. Then you came back, and it was like you never left. Until the Antivan and Aveline's story". The man paused, as he was leaving her some space to interrupt him.
But Isabela's tongue was nearly tied. She couldn't bring herself to talk to him, to express her feelings. To shout at him. Anything. All she could do was picture herself cheating and cheating again, cheating to men who, she knew very well, had feelings for her, even though they knew very well she didn't want a relationship. She saw his face, after she had refused to marry him. And she knew, that's how all of them must have felt.
"Me and Merrill... we had a fight. She accused me to have ruined all her work, she told me she didn't want to see me anymore. And when she came back to my house to apologize, I just knew I didn't want her to leave and that hearing her say she didn't mean it..". He didn't turn.
So that's what I get for baring my heart to someone. Pain for me, pain for him thought the pirate queen. She had to gather all her strength, but after all she could boast years and years of experience. And there was only one dignified final curtain. For herself and for Kitten and Hawke's sake.
"She always seemed lonely, and she tends to meddle with dangerous things. Take care of her. If you do something disgusting to her, I'll cut off your balls".
–
So, that's it. I hope you enjoed the reading.
That's the ending of my diplomatic Hawke, Ryan, and Isabela's rivalmance: the one I imagined of course.
Actually, Ryan was meant to remain with her, but he found himself propositioned by Merrill after the beginning of Act 3. That's because I didn't get her QB in Act 2. I always try to roleplay my character, make them act like it would be coherent with who they are: and where the choice is between basically telling Merrill she's a monster and decide to protect her, there's no doubt what Ryan could decide to do. Pity. I really liked the scene at the Hangman with Isabela, but when roleplay calls, you have to answer. This fic is sort of the "excuse" for him moving on to Merrill: after all, Isabella is actually ready to follow Zevran, and there's actually a banter, in Legacy, about Isabela "put on a slutty show". Unfortunately in my game all of this happened after Isabela's love confession. So..