The Hanged Man, scene of many crimes—the greatest being the serving of horrible, cheap alcohol—was busy. Kirkwall guards, looking fresh off patrol, huddled around a table laughing about a clumsy smuggler they'd caught with his pants down, literally. Two groups of sailors were crowded in opposite corners, they too looked jovial, but they kept eying each other across the room. Was it wrong she was almost hoping for a brawl to disrupt her evening plans? Marian Hawke slouched over the table, chin resting in the palm of one hand, a nearly drained glass of beer in the other. She felt like she was going to vomit. Varric stood next to her, a look of pity in his eyes. He just trying to help, she knew that.
"Hawke," Varric said. "She's starting to stare. Go talk to her."
Marian looked up at the young woman standing at the bar, who quickly averted her eyes. She was tall with pale skin, light brown hair, and dark eyes. She was dressed almost too nicely to be at the Hanged Man in a dark red dress which accentuated her curves quite nicely. "I can't."
"She's cute! Just look at those breasts!"
"I didn't say she wasn't attractive."
"Hawke, come on. I talked you up, just go over there, smile, and say complimentary things."
Marian rubbed her palm over her face. "I can't."
Varric patted her shoulder. "Listen, I know she's not Rivaini, but you need to at least try. I can't take this moping anymore."
"She came back once before..."
"...and then she promptly left..."
"...who is to say she won't come back again."
"Even if she does come back? You think she'd want to hear you've been sitting here all celibate and pining for her? I doubt she's exactly been a virtuous Chantry sister during her absence."
Marian glared at the dwarf. "Thanks, Varric. Just the thing to put me in the mood to woo women, thinking of Isabela off somewhere having a large orgy."
"I never said anything about an orgy, but I wouldn't be surprised."
"Varric!"
The dwarf held up his hands. "Do this, for me. Please. Nothing risked, nothing gained."
Marian rolled her eyes at him. "Fine. But, I'm not having sex with her."
"You say that now, we'll see how you feel after a few drinks, Hawke."
Marian snorted, finished her beer in a single gulp, and stood. Taking a deep breath, she started to walk across the room towards the tall, brunette Varric had found for her.
"Remember, breasts!" the dwarf said, his voice barely registering about the clamor of the room.
The woman perked up a bit as Marian approached, a smile on her lips as she smoothed her shoulder length hair. It was a pretty enough smile. Not dazzling, but far from ugly. In the right light she almost vaguely looked like Isabela or close enough to distract Marian for an evening. Maybe Varric was right. It would be nice not to be alone, to not think about the hole in her heart she'd been trying, and failing, to ignore. Perhaps the past was past and it was time to let go. Having a drink and conversation didn't mean they'd be getting married anytime soon. This was practice, getting back on the horse. "Hello," Marian said, forcing a smile of her own.
"Hello, Hawke...is that what you like to be called?"
"No, call me Marian. Please."
"I'm Rebecca. Varric has told me so much about you."
"Heh. It's all lies I assure you. Well, mostly lies."
Rebecca chuckled. It was light, pleasant. "Varric does like to weave a good story. I'm sure there has to be some truth in his tales though."
"Depends on the story. I did slay a dragon, with help of course. I also fight blood mages with one hand tied behind my back and can spout poetry while fending off a band of mercenaries."
Rebecca laughed again and leaned forward, not-so-subtly displaying her not-so-subtle cleavage as she touched Marian's arm lightly. "So, are you saying you're skilled with your tongue then?"
"Hmm. That's a rather aggressive first move. Amateur, in fact." said a sultry voice behind Marian. There was something quite distinct about it. The tone, the confidence, it reminded her of Isabela. Was she that drunk she was starting to hear things? She'd only had one drink.
Rebecca glared over Marian's shoulder. "Excuse me?"
"You might land a man with moves like that. They'd be too busy staring at your tits too listen to that drivel. Women take more skill."
She wasn't hallucinating, it was a very familiar voice indeed. One that had shouted at her in battle, mocked her in jest, and whispered filthy things in her ear while in bed. Marian turned around and there, leaning against the bar, looking like she had never left, was Isabela. There was a playful smirk on the pirate's lips as she took a drink-likely whiskey-from the glass in front of her. She looked the same. The same curves, the same outfit, those same blasted thigh-high buckled boots that accentuated the long legs Marian loved to have wrapped around her. She felt relief at seeing Isabela alive and back in Kirkwall. It was somehow reassuring, like the world was finally starting to right itself. But, she felt anger too, anger at having been left behind. "I didn't do it for them. I did it for you. It was always about you,' had been Isabela's last words before she disappeared; leaving Marian alone to contemplate if those words were meant to be anything more than placating. However, much to Marian's surprise, despite her frustration, she was still filled with desire. Maker, she wanted Isabela, she wanted her so damn badly.
"And just who the hell are you?" Rebecca snapped.
"Someone who knows her way around a woman better than you ever will." Isabela reached into her coin purse, extracted fifty silver, and tossed it at Rebecca. "Go buy yourself some lessons at the Rose, on me."
Rebecca let the currency land on the ground, staring at it for a moment before looking to Marian. "Are you going to let her talk to me like that?"
"Well, I..." Marian's ears rang from the force of the slap her would-be companion for the evening landed on her cheek. She was quite certain there would be a hand print there.
Isabela laughed as the other woman stormed off, cursing. "She should have at least taken the silver. I mean, who turns down free coin?"
Marian rubbed her jaw and leaned against the bar next to Isabela. "That was not particularly nice of you."
Isabela smirked and took another sip of her drink. "When have I ever claimed to be nice, Hawke?"
Something about the way Isabela said her surname sent Marian's heart fluttering. It always had. "Where the hell have you been?"
"Here, there, everywhere."
Marian scowled. "And you couldn't be bothered to write? At least let me know you weren't captured by the Qunari or dead?"
Isabela shrugged. She had moved closer to Marian, their forearms were touching. Isabela smelled like the sea, but she always had in Marian's mind. "I was busy. You've been busy too, oh, great Champion of Kirkwall. Do you get Aveline to clean your boots now that you out rank her? I'd pay to see that."
"You still could have written," Marian said again, brushing her fingers against Isabela's as she tossed some coin down and waved at the bartender.
"And said what? There's nothing I could have possibly said which would have made you happy. Seemed pointless."
"Glad to see you at least thought of me while you were away."
Isabela chuckled, their hips were pressed together now. "Feeling a bit surly tonight are we?"
"You did interrupt a potentially lovely evening with a woman."
"Ha! Clearly I came back just in time if people like her are your idea of fun now."
"She was nice. Pleasant. Normal."
"Boring, boring, and more boring. You'd have a more thrilling evening with a decently shaped tuber."
"Are you jealous?"
Isabela's gaze turned hard for a second. "Of that? Please. Nothing to be jealous of."
"Mmhm."
"There are few fates worse than an evening of bad sex, I was helping."
"Of course," Marian said. "Keep telling yourself that. You left. I think that means you forfeited previous claims you had on my person."
Isabela traced a finger along Marian's forearm, sending chills up her spine as she pressed her mouth against Marian's ear. "Even if we're not in any kind of, formal relationship, you're mine, Hawke. You'll always be mine. Unless you'd rather some clumsy sow between your legs, but..."
Marian turned her head kissed Isabela, who tasted like the sharp tang of cheap whiskey and returned the kiss eagerly-it was wonderful. Marian almost yelped when she felt Isabela's teeth sink into her bottom lip. "That's what I thought," the pirate said.
"Do you have a room here?"
Isabela quickly surveyed the packed room with a frown. "I do, but you best be in the mood for an audience. We're sharing space."
"The estate?"
Isabela moved Marian's hand from where it had been resting on the bar pressed it between her legs. "I can't wait."
Marian, flushed from her neck to her ears, very reluctantly pulled her hand away from Isabela. She was about to lose her mind. "Where then?!"
Isabela grabbed her by the wrist and dragged her out the door of the tavern. The night air had a bit of a chill to it, but it was the least of Marian's concerns. Maker this was stupid. Marian should have told her to shove off, that until there was an apology there would be no sex But, the lingering taste of Isabela on her lips was sufficient to override her reservations. They walked up the street for what seemed like an eternity before Isabela pulled her into a dark alleyway and shoved her against the wall. The back of Marian's head bounced off the brick, causing her to see stars. She slid to the ground, eyes slightly watery, rubbing at the back of her skull. "Bloody hell, woman! Be careful!"
Isabela straddled Marian. "You've always liked it little rough. Don't deny it."
"I might, still..."
Isabela silenced her with a kiss as she all but tore off Marian's clothing. Whatever pain Marian had been feeling was pushed to the back of her mind as Isabela deftly undid the laces of her corset and removed it. Marian pulled Isabela close, exploring newly exposed skin with her hands and mouth. She was warm and still soft in all the right places. Marian wished it wasn't so dark, she liked looking at the pirate as much as she did touching her.
Fingers gripped her hair. "More," Isabela said, adjusting their position to allow Marian to slide her hand between the pirate's legs. She shivered as Marian's fingers began to stroke and tease-and Marian loved teasing Isabela. Sex was one of the few instances where it was possible to have the upper hand. Marian enjoyed nothing more than reducing her to a quivering mess, knowing full well she'd pay for it later. Isabela dragged her teeth lightly against Marian's shoulder.
"Take me." Marian did as she was told. Isabela clung her, vocal in her enjoyment, which only encouraged Marian to do more, to push more. If their presence to anyone passing by the alley had gone unnoticed before it was unlikely to be missed now. Isabela shuddered, a final moan escaping her lips, and she slumped against Marian.
"Mmmm. Glad to see you haven't lost your touch."
"Of course not. I'm the Champion of Kirkwall. I have a reputation to uphold." Marian said, pressing her lips against Isabela's neck.
Isabela chuckled and took Marian's face her in her hands. "My turn."
#
Marian was limping ever so slightly when she dropped by the Hanged Man the following evening. Varric was at her side before she made it five steps into the room.
"What the hell did Rivaini do to you? You look like hell!"
Marian smirked. "Well, there's a list. Do you want the long or the short version?"
Varric made a face. "Neither! Some things are best left to the imagination or out of my mind completely."
She looked behind Varric and saw Isabela standing at her usual place at the bar. The pirate winked as they made eye contact.
"Are you two back on then?"
"Um. I'm not sure really. I suppose we'll see."
Varric looked over at Isabela and sighed. "Be careful, Hawke. I can't deal with you moping again."
Marian grinned and walked towards the bar. "Nothing risked, nothing gained."
###
