He knew the consequences it would bring. He just never expected it to actually happen.
He questioned the Inquisitor as to Hawkes whereabouts after she had made it back to Adamant through the fade rift. The Inquisitor just looked at Varric somberly and gave a great speech about how Hawke had made a great sacrifice.
Varric could only then question and blame himself for allowing Hawke to be involved. She had survived Kirkwall. She had survived her first experience with Corypheus. He thought she would survive through this, but he was wrong. So damn wrong.
How could he let this happen? How could he bring Hawke into this mess, fully knowing that there was a chance she would not make it out alive? There was nothing he could do now.
The Inquisitor visited Varric. Of course he spoke of the heroics of Hawke, talking about what kind of person she was. She was a great person. She was a great person that he, had sent to her death. By letting her come to help the Inquisition.
With a hug from the Inquisitor, he couldn't help but feel slightly tensed. Why didn't the Adaar try to stop Hawke? Was there truly nothing to be done? Why couldn't Stroud be the one to…
No, no. He shook his head, trying to remove the accusatory thoughts.
Releasing himself from the Adaar, Varric turned to his table. "I have letters to write, I should be the one to tell Bethany…" he thought for a moment, "and Isabela." The Inquisitor left him to his duties…and his thoughts.
How the hell would he give this news to Isabela? He couldn't beat around the bush. Even though he was known for his massive bullshitting skills, he could not bullshit Isabela. How would he even begin with her? What would he say?
Dear Isabela, Hawke is dead. I'm sorry. He wrote on a letter, only to immediately look at his work, crumple it up, and toss it away. His heart ached, but he could only imagine the heartache that Isabela would receive getting this letter. He knew it had to be done. It was his fault after all.
Somewhere at Free Marches – Docked.
Isabela was a free woman. Well, to an extent. Hawke was her lover. Not just any lover, but exclusively hers as she to Hawke. On the high seas, with her boat, her crew, and the thought of an exciting future with a Champion (of her heart) was all she needed in life.
Though Isabela knew Hawke had duties to maintain. A life as a Champion, a hero mind you, was the life that Isabela was introduced to as she dated Hawke. She didn't mind. Isabela is an independent girl to begin with. Though between her and Hawke, nobody else would know that she is actually a very caring and worrisome individual.
Of course, Hawke was the one that opened her up. The one that she came back for when the Arishok decided to run amok in the city. Hawke was the one that loved her, after all the shit that Isabela put her through. Isabela couldn't help but feel these new feelings with Hawke at her side. Which Hawke didn't seem to mind at all.
Isabela spent most of her time in the Captains quarters, counting coins, and doing whatever pirate-y thing her heart desired at the moment.
There was a knock on the door.
"What is it? I'm busy…doing…stuff." Isabela tried on another hat which she had just bought from the shops that were around. "Ohhh, lovely plumage" she muttered to herself as she looked into a mirror that stood near her desk.
The crewman opened the door, "A message for you. A giant black bird delivered it just now." The crewman handed Isabela the message and promptly left.
Isabela took off the hat and sat down at her desk, and opened the rolled message. It was from Varric. The message read:
Dear Isabela,
I know I was supposed to keep Hawke safe. I told myself that I wouldn't endanger her life anymore, but she insisted on helping the Inquisition, as you and I both know. I thought the Inquisition would keep her safe. The mission we were sent on was a lot more complex than I had originally thought. The Inquisition had chased down the Wardens to Adamant. Where they found Erimond, a Venatori agent and Warden Commander Clarel dueling it out. The next thing we knew, poof, Hawke and the rest of the party vanished into the fade.
The only problem is that everyone returned – except for Hawke. The Inquisitor told of Hawkes heroics, how she gave her life for the Inquisition, the Wardens, and the World.
I wish there was an easier way to say all of this. I know this isn't easy. I'm sorry.
Varric.
Tears rolled down Isabela's face.
Hawke? Gone? Nonsense. This is just another one Varric's bullshit stories. Yet, he wouldn't kid about this, would he?
Isabela quitely sobbed into her hands as they covered her face, only to have the sad sob turn into a rage as swiped her arm across the desk knocking everything in its path off onto the floor. She clutched the side of the desk with one hand and covered her eyes with the others as she continued to cry.
She was stuck in a whirlwind of emotions. Rage, sadness, hate, heartbreak. How could this happen? One moment Isabela was on top of the world. She had all that she could want but now, the only thing she wanted was Hawke. Isabela continued to rampage around the room. Throwing anything she could find, mainly her daggers.
A knock on the door.
"CAPTAIN? Is everything all right?" a crewman yelled through the door only to back away as the tip of a dagger found its way through a door.
As Isabela gathered herself up, she replied back, "We are setting sail for Ferelden. Prepare to be docked for a while. As I have business in Skyhold."
A week or so had passed. The pain of Hawkes death had lessened, but it was and would never be gone for Varric.
Day in and day out he constantly built blame upon himself for Hawkes death. The Inquisitor as a friend, made things easier for him, but he could never forget his one true friend.
Varric spent half of his time in the Hearld's Rest, (While the other half was spent with Bianca doing shooty things!) drinking on occasion to ease the pain. He would be joined by a numerous amount of companions throughout his times there. Sometimes playing a game or two of Wicked Grace.
Late one night, after a successful day of odd missions he made his way to the tavern, only to see a group of bystanders gathered outside of the tavern causing quite the stir. As he moved closer towards the Tavern, the Inquisitor, Cassandra, and several others pushed their way through the crowd as did Varric to see what the commotion was all about.
"What the hell is going on here?" the Inquisitor said as she finally made into the Tavern, with her companions not far behind her.
Inside the Tavern, around 7 – 10 guys were scattered and knocked out, with one mysterious girl standing in the middle and Iron Bull trying to coral the wild girl.
"Whhoaaa there miss. I think you've had a little too much to drink. Don't get me wrong, I like 'em feisty, and all but only when we can consent to this kinda play!" Iron Bull kept a respectable distance as he tried to calm the woman.
"Piss off! I've dealt with fuckers like you in the past and you don't scare me anymore!" The woman lunged forward at Iron Bull, only to drunkenly trip over herself and into his chest. This allowed Iron Bull to wrap his arms around her, keeping her contained. "Sheesh. I have no idea how you handled all these guys." Iron Bull turned around towards the door, with the suspect subdued – who seemed partially passed out.
"Oh, hey boss!" He said with a little pep in his voice.
Varric – being the smallest and the last to push his way through to see what was going on, finally made it through. That's when he noticed who Iron Bull was holding.
"Holy shit. Isabela?"
At the sound of Varric's voice Isabela perked her head up, suddenly coming to with full vigor. "You!" she spat. "I'll fuckin' kill you!" she kicked wildly towards Varric and the Inquisitor who all looked a little shocked at the suddenness of it all.
"Varric, is this…?" The Inquisitor began, only to be interrupted by the obscenities that Isabela threw at Varric.
Without missing a beat Varric replied, "Yes, this is Isabela. Hawke's…lover." He shook his head and looked down sadly.
"All right, everyone clear out! But first take these men to the infirmary." The Inquisitor ordered. The tavern quickly cleared of almost everyone save for Iron Bull who still had a tight grip on Isabela. Varric, who was there for obvious reasons, the Inquisitor, Cassandra who had took watch at the door and kept anyone from intruding.
They all gathered around Isabela.
"Look, Rivaini-"
She spat on him, "You can't call me that. You can never call me that. You let her die! You killed her! You don't have the fuckin' right to. She changed me Varric. She was there when she didn't have to be! Yet I could have been there for her, and I wasn't, but you know who was there? YOU WERE VARRIC! You said you'd watch over her." She sobbed and fell to the floor, Iron Bull let go of his grip but kept close to the rogue. "I never was good with emotional stuff, but here I fuckin' am. Piss drunk. Heartbroken. Vengeful. I don't think I can be happy anymore. Not without her, not without Hawke. I don't have a purpose." She scratched at the floor as if trying to uncover something.
"Isabela. I know. I'm sorry. You don't think I felt the guilt of it all? I'm the one who brought her here, and she took on the mission herself. I couldn't have stopped her if I tried. She was a hero, doing heroes work. Heroes die. Even the good ones. I know she was much more to you. She wasn't just a hero to you, she was so much more. I wish I could bring her back, for you, for Bethany, and…for me as well."
He paused and sighed deeply, "I am to blame. For all of this. I have endangered Hawke so many times. She chose her own path. We just didn't expect it to end so…soon."
Isabela stood up, slightly stumbling as she tried to regain her balance. "I…I'm sorry too. I guess, you could blame me too. Maybe if I hadn't spent so much time being aimless and mostly selfish I could have been there. Help you all. Helping her. I could have saved her. Or died with her. It's too late now. I'm so damn foolish." She covered her face with her hand and walked passed the Inquisitor and Varric towards the door.
"Isabela?" Varric called out to her. She turned to look at him one more time, "We can't spend this time wasting away in our guilt. We can blame each other, ourselves even, and all we want. That won't fix a thing. So please, don't be too hard on yourself. Just continue to be the you that you would have been if she was still alive. Don't just do it for her, but for you. She loved you. Remember that."
Without uttering a word Isabela turned and walked out of the Tavern, never to be seen or heard from again.