Rogues Have All The Fun

There were only two reasons why Rylee Hawke would step into the Hanged Man… to converse with her dwarven comrade or to tease the playful pirate at the bar. Since Varric was preoccupied creating extravagant stories of the Champion of Kirkwall, she prowled over to Isabela.

The tanned gypsy was leaning against the bar, summoning another round of her poison and flaunting her perfect curves. It amazed Rylee how little clothing she could get away with. It seemed the jewelry covered more than her revealing white top. At least she added the black corset and red scarf to her ensemble when things became "serious." It didn't matter though… one precise cut of Hawke's dagger and it would all come off.

"Hawke!" the duelist excitedly cried, throwing her arms around the Champion.

Isabela's breath reeked of cheap liquor, causing Rylee to turn her head, asking, "How many pints did you have?"

"Not nearly enough."

"I think you've had enough."

"The barkeep hasn't cut me off yet!"

"How about this... you come to my estate and I'll give you as many drinks as you like there."

"It's tempting but we have all the pints we need here."

"Isabela, why don't you ever join me in Hightown?"

"I like it here at the Hanged Man, everybody knows my name."

"Every man in Kirkwall knows your name."

"And for good reason!"

"But we are here every night. Can you at least grant me one night?" she asked prying Isabela's hands away from the mug and holding them in between hers.

"Oh, fine, but you have to show me all the fun places you promised."

"You drive a hard bargain but I believe that can be arranged."

"It won't be the only thing that's hard."

"I'll pretend you didn't say that."

The Hawke estate was filled with Rylee and Isabela's laughter. After matching shot for shot, the rogues came up with a game. Using their quick fingers, they would attempt to snatch the shot glass away from the other without spilling. If the opponent was successful, the loser would have to take two shots. If the opponent spilled, they would be punished with three shots. It wasn't long before the two began interfering, by pulling on the chairs with their boots or pinning their opponent's hand to the table. No matter how quick her hands were, poor Hawke ended up defeated.

"I let you win!" Rylee cried out throwing her arms in the air.

"You can defeat the Arishok but you cannot beat the pirate of Thedas!"

"I defeated him with my daggers… not by drinking him under the table."

"Good thing, you would have lost."

Hawke stared at the duelist… watching her pour a victory drink and slowly bringing it to her lips. In retaliation of her loss, Rylee snatched the glass from Isabela's grip and consumed it. Slamming the glass down before she even noticed it was missing.

"Where's your sense of humor?"

"I believe I left it upstairs?"

"Is that so, dear Champion? Are you sure you didn't misplace down here?"

Rylee looked around the room, searched under the table, and patted the bottom of her chair, "I'm nearly positive, I'm not finding it anywhere down here."

"Try a little harder."

Isabela leaned back in the chair, kicking up her feet and setting the heel of her boots on Hawke's knee. Using her eyes, she directed the assassin to remove the constraints on her legs.

"I believe you left it in my boots."

"Is that so?"

Rylee navigated her hands up her lengthy leathers, slowly unbuckling each strap and revealing the bare skin underneath. When she reached the final buckle, Hawke noticed the glimmer of metal shining. She snuck her hand into the leather and pulled out a small dagger.

"You know us rogues," Isabela smirked.

"We have all the fun?" she asked tossing the dagger aside.

"I will be the judge of that."

Hawke unlatched the final strap and lightly dragged her fingers down the opening, pushing the walls of the leather off her companion's leg. She tugged at the sole and released Isabela's foot, watching as she wiggled her toes in freedom. Rylee could no longer resist the leg on her lap and began caressing it with her hands, slowly making her way up the calf to the thigh.

"But Hawke… you are not done yet," the pirate taunted, pointing at the other leg.

"I will be the judge of that."

Before the duelist could comment, Rylee leaned down and pressed her lips against the soft hide. As she repeatedly kissed spot above Isabela's knee, she was gently clawing her fingers at the leg… triggering squeals of desire to resonate through the room. Hawke slowly lifted herself out of her chair, bending down on her knees and continuing her embracing path up the leg. Kissing… licking… biting at the tempting thigh and causing more sounds to escape. When she reached the tail of her shirt, she stopped and looked up at the Thedas woman. Her amber eyes glowed… hungry…

Rylee pulled herself up the chair, grinding the inner part of their legs together and brushing her chest against Isabela's bountiful bosom. She brought her lips just centimeters away from the pirate's, driving her mad.

"See, Isabela, I'm good on my promises."