"Are you sure about this?" Marion Hawke eyed her friend with wary concern as she asked the question.
"Nope, not even a little bit." Isabela answered with ease and then shrugged, as if the uncertainty didn't mean anything, "but I know I can't take the chance of being wrong. This relic means my life, Hawke."
Marion sighed and looked around the nearly empty room of the Hanged Man. It was too early in the morning for this room to look in its usual state of drunken bodies. They were still passed out from the night before; Varric stood quietly by her side, waiting for her answer to yet another of Isabela's pleas for what always turned into a wild goose chase. Marion still had the marks on her forearm from the nest of spiders she had plunged her hand into in search of this relic. At least they had been regular size spiders, just incredibly poisonous. Isabela had told Martin about it and Martin had gone in search of the nest to milk out the poison. She heard it had made him a name now, along with a nice size pouch. She knew she should say no; this was crazy. An obvious set up. "Fine. Let's go."
Isabela beamed happiness and they set off, dragging Varric and Fenris with them. She didn't even want to think about what Aveline's response would be to walking into such an obvious trap for Isabela's sake.
It was bad from the start. They were outnumbered and in tight quarters, but the mercenaries didn't realize just how often they had each been in the same situation. They were never not outnumbered and had fought in tight quarters with each other for years; it was grueling, tiring, even life threatening. In other words, just another quest. They continued in the same routine, exploring, killing, disarming traps, getting caught in traps, and killing some more. One thing Marion would give these mercenaries, they were persistent; people normally gave up by now.
"We did it." Isabela half laughed as they cleared the final cave and the promised chest lay waiting for them. She carefully moved around it, disarming traps as she went and picking the lock. Marion finished healing Fenris, who dipped his head slightly in thanks as he leaned against the wall of the cave, caught his breath, and kept wary eyes looking for still more enemies. Varric was worrying over Bianca; he had been forced to use his precious crossbow as a hammer on someone's head when the man had come up behind them. Marion walked over to the chest as she heard the distinct click as Isabela picked the lock. Isabela gently lifted the lip of the chest's lid, keen eyes watching for yet another trap.
Nothing. The lid was fully open and a book rested on the bottom. Marion heard Isabela's sharp intake of breath at the sight and glanced at her. "Is that it?"
"Yes." Isabela breathed out the word, then she eyed the book carefully and her brows knitted. "No." She continued to stare at the book as if it would get up and introduce itself. "I don't know. I didn't look at it, remember?" Her voice was tense and accusing, as if Marion had suggested she was lying.
Marion shook her head, reached down, and scooped up the book, brushing the dust and dirt off of its worn hard cover. It looked like it had been in a shipwreck, the cover was faded and completely illegible and there were water stains all over it. Isabela shook her head and looked back into the chest, as if something in there would give her a clue. Marion shrugged and carefully moved the book to flip open the cover and see if the inside was any better than the outside. The last thing she remembered was the book opening with a strange sound and a strange smell before blackness claimed her.
There was a very slight, barely perceptible, hissing sound as the book opened. Marion dropped to the ground instantly, her eyes rolling back into her head and her body in a crumpled heap where it had once stood. Fenris was off the wall and hovering over her body in an instant, glaring at Isabela. "What have you done?"
Isabela had turned when she heard the odd hissing sound and then gasped when Hawke dropped. She looked up from Hawke's limp form only at Fenris's shout. "I didn't do anything!" She yelled back and then survival instincts that had kept her alive for so long kicked in and she grabbed his hands before he could do anything to Hawke or the book. "Wait! It's the book. It's a trap."
"Fenris, watch the entrance, the last thing we need is more company right now." Varric requested in that soft tone of his and Fenris hesitated, wide eyes locked on Hawke's limp form. "Don't worry, elf, I'm not about to let my hero die this way, it would make for a horrible ending."
Fenris shot another glare at Isabela and then seemed to have to force himself away from Hawke and back to the cave's entrance. Fenris didn't even reach the opening before they heard him growl out, "Company."
"Bloody wonderful." Isabela muttered and shook her head. Varric looked up at her and then back down to Hawke. That they would make a last stand here dying for a woman who was already dead made no sense. Isabela turned and walked to the cave entrance. Fenris had his sword out, so obviously eager for a battle that she was shocked to see him still standing there. Normally they only knew they had company after his battle cry while rushing towards it. Normally Hawke wasn't lying dead on the ground.
"Isabela!" A strange male voice called out as she stood next to Fenris. Whoever these mercenaries were, they hadn't planned on making this their last stand either; there were far too few of them. Which meant this had obviously been a worse case plan. "You're still standing? Good. Castilion preferred you alive."
"Too bad you won't get the chance to bring me to him." Isabela called back. "That was a neat little trick, by the way, what did you do to the book?" Fenris growled beside her, his glare back on her at her words. Isabela ignored him.
"So you did open it?" The man tried to sound shocked. He failed miserably. "Poor mate. Never heard of anyone surviving the Maker's Kiss."
Isabela cursed long and fluently, Fenris's glare intensified even though she hadn't thought that was even possible. She heard Varric curse behind her. He had grabbed a long sword from one of the fallen bodies and pushed the book off of Hawke then threw the sword towards the book and dragged Hawke's body away.
"We have to get her to Blondie. If anyone can undo this, it's Blondie." Varric stated the obvious as he looked over Hawke, moving her face this way and that. "She's still breathing. It's possible her own healing is keeping her alive, but there's no way to know for how long. She could cure it herself in a few hours or she could…" The speed of his mind was reflected in his eyes. "Maybe Tomwise or Martin would know more about a cure."
"We have to get out of here first." Isabela added to obvious statements as she started counting the numbers outside the cave. "We've got to get them to come to us. We're dead if we run out there."
"IF we hand you over, we can be done with all of this right now." Fenris had eased out of his fighting stance and frequently glanced back at Varric and Hawke.
Isabela wasn't sure why she was shocked at his obvious statement, but she was and she stared at him with wide eyes. "Can we at least entertain solutions that don't result in my death?"
Fenris didn't have time to answer, as if those few sentences had been enough. Varric stood up and announced, "I got it." Both Isabela and Fenris turned and waited, even after Varric remained silent and walked to stand between them.
"You aren't very good at bargaining, you know. We've already killed more than you have with you. Even short one person, I'm going to bet the odds are with us." Varric called out. Fenris and Isabela remained silent next to him, only years of traveling together keeping them silent while Varric played out a plan neither of them knew. That was when it struck Isabela; she was actually trusting someone…with her life…to save a dead woman.
"Hand over Isabela and I'll hand you the cure. Your mate has a limited window so I wouldn't stop to think about this." The man called back, however grudgingly.
"It's diluted. It had to be, there's no way they could hide that smell if it was full strength." Isabela breathed a sigh of relief at what Varric must have already figured out. Maker's Kiss was a poison like no other; no liquid or powder to worry about making sure the target ingests, it was in the air itself and killed instantly in its true form. The down side; you could be miles away and smell it, well before you were close enough to be killed by it. People had experimented, usually at the cost of their lives, for years to work it into a usable form, but the problem had always been the smell and losing the smell meant you lost the kick. If past experience was any hint, Hawke might even wake up on her own later and just wish she was dead. Isabela looked back at Hawke's body and smiled; Hawke would be okay…and it was alarming how much that meant to her. The smile disappeared and she looked back at the men.
"Well then, come get her." Varric called out.
"Send her to us." The man shook his head at Varric's command and waved his hand as if calling Isabela forward.
"You are really bad at this." Varric shook his head and rubbed his forehead in disgust. "Do you honestly think we would fall for that? Really. Who would send their only bargaining chip straight to you? Let me make this easy for you. You and all your little men there come here with the cure for our friend then I hand you the prize. Do you understand? Stamp your foot twice for yes."
The man's face turned a bright shade of red and then they conversed among themselves. Eventually, they fell for the trap. Once they were at the mouth of the cave, exchanging a vial for Isabela, the trap was sprung and it was the most work Isabela had ever gotten when with Fenris. The elf was more concerned with protecting Hawke's body than his usual 'kill-them-all' self and so Isabela was forced to become the death dealer, chasing down and killing everyone all over the battlefield until there were too few of them for Fenris to have to worry about Hawke's body being caught in the battle. She gladly let him rush by and vent his anger on more deserving men, at least in her opinion.
"Ow." Marion couldn't figure out what was hurting since it felt like everything was hurting. Even the mere use of her voice to whine out her pain hurt.
"Don't worry, Blondie's on his way." Varric's voice sounded next to her. She looked to see a small fuzzy blond headed form, which must mean the rest of the fuzz was his suite at the Hanged Man.
Maker, she hated the Hanged Man. There was a lingering smell that instantly made her alternatingly cough and gag which took away all ability to find out what happened to get her here. Blissfully sweet blackness took over in the midst of her body's attempt to rid itself of her insides just as she saw a taller blond fuzzy head walk into the room.
The second time she woke up was much more peacefully. There was a dull ache throughout her body, as if she had just spent the day and most of the night fighting rather than sleeping in Varric's bed, but at least she could breath and see. Varric looked at her and openly let out a sigh of relief. "It's about time. Your mother is on her way right now and there is only so much I'll do for you, Hawke."
She laughed and then rubbed her hand over her neck; there was that pain she remembered. Varric didn't give her a chance to ask anything, he was ushering her out of bed and trying to get her out the door as quickly as possible. It didn't work. Marion was just about shoved into her mother as her mother ran up the stairs.
"Maker, where have you been?" The question came out as an accusation, which was in stark contrast to the tight and painful hug Marion found herself pulled in. "I don't care what you have going on with your friends, it is not okay for you to disappear for two days without a word, Marion!"
Two days? Marion found herself pushed just as abruptly out of the hug while her mother crossed her arms and glared, apparently satisfied that she was alive enough to be mad at now. Varric stepped up beside her, his hand on her back to stop the fall onto her butt that had been about to happen at her mother's shove. She watched her mother's eyes flickered between the two of them and then slowly widened. She squeezed her eyes shut. This wasn't happening…
"Unless… Marion is there something you need to tell me?" Her mother's voice was harsh and accusatory again.
Much later, after Marion and Varric assured her mother that Varric only had eyes for sweet little dwarven women, her mother finally left with a promise that Marion wouldn't be too far behind her. It was their last night at Gamlen's house, after all. She shook her head at the thought that her mother felt this deserved a goodbye of a sort.
"How are you feeling?" Isabela asked pleasantly as she dropped onto the seat across from her in the midst of the Hanged Man's tavern.
"Like I died." Marion answered with a smirk. After her mother had left and little bits and pieces of her memory returned, she had gotten him to tell her what happened. "Glad to see Fenris didn't hand you over."
"He would have too, blighter." Isabela shook her head at the mention of how close she came to being the prize. Marion laughed and Isabela circled the top of her tankard with one finger.
"He didn't mean it. He was just angry; you know how he gets." Marion explained, feeling the need to as she normally did.
Isabela huffed. "You weren't there. If something had…", she shook her head and when she looked back, there was something else in the depths of her eyes. "Are you so willing to believe in the good of all of us that you would bet your life on it?"
"Isn't that what I've been doing all along?" Marion didn't like the direction this conversation was going. Her mind certainly wasn't clear enough for something like this. She shrugged. "You needed me. I was there. That's it."
"You aren't at all mad that you nearly died? That I pulled you into something that we all knew was a trap and came out with nothing to show for it?" Isabela's eyes were searching her, as if they would be able to tell the moment she lied.
"It's not the first time and it probably won't be the last." Marion tried to shrug off the question. That probing look remained on Isabela's face. "You're my friend. You needed me. I was there." She repeated, as if saying it again would clear up everything. Her head was really starting to hurt now.
"That's not very smart, Hawke. You are a shockingly bad judge of character." Isabela remarked as she leaned back in her chair and shook her head. Marion smiled and shrugged as Isabela rolled her eyes. The only thing that mattered to her at that moment was the absence of that discerning look. If there was a hint of it in the back of Isabela's eyes as they said goodbye before her mother came looking for her again, she willfully choose to ignore it and any uneasy it brought into her own mind.
Isabela was her friend, for better or worse, and some things were worth dying for.
