This is actually something I wrote a while ago for the Dragon Age Kink Meme, which was the first line of this story. Someone there asked for a continuation/smut, which I have half-way done and may finish one day. Enjoy!
The pirate played with the band on her finger. "Isabela Hawke...has a nice ring, don't you think?"
Garrett Hawke choked and sputtered on the wine traveling down his throat. The land-locked pirate laughed as he doubled over and coughed up the small bit of the liquid he didn't swallow. Wiping the water under his eyes, he looked at her, sitting on the roof of his estate with her Innocent Smile, infamous within their circle of friends as being almost the exact opposite of innocent. The hand with the new ring found it's way to her knee and pulled a leg closer to her to "inspect" it, which somehow showed more of her thighs under her long tunic, as if she was trying to kill him.
He looked away from her thighs, moved up to her brown eyes, looking right back at him like she did when she challenged people to combat.
"It is a nice ring," Garrett said, pointing to the ring he picked up and gave to her. "It has tiny runes that promotes stronger healing when given a rejuvenating spell, and is supposed to increase stamina."
"Do you think I need more stamina, Hawke?" The Innocent Smile dropped for the briefest of seconds.
"Never hurts to have more," Hawke replied, his Wry Smirk in place. The normal, the comfortable banter between the two back after she dropped into something real.
"Until things start to chafe."
Hawke placed a hand over his heart, as if wounded. "That was one time, Isabela."
"I know, sweetheart," Isabela laughed as she patted his hand. "And in this town, you need all the stamina you can get when waves of bandits seem to appear out of thin air." Her hand stayed on top of his, warm, familiar, yet terrifying for reasons either rogue could remember anymore. The pirate sighed as her fingers laced into his. "Seriously. Hawke."
"Isabela Hawke." He looked out to the city in front of them. The orange-green clouds shifting around them, black smokestacks pouring into them like an alchemical mix. Strange, unnatural, probably wrong, but beautiful in it's own way. He looked back to her. "I do like the sound of that. Surprised you do, though. After what you told me about your last husband, I thought you'd never..."
"Well, my last husband never took on an Arishok with just his daggers for me." Hawke placed his other hand on her cheek, eyes moving around hers, mouth opening and closing. She chuckled and slapped his arm away. "Don't worry, Hawke, I'm not asking for a proposal."
"Not even to get me on one knee?" Isabela laughed again.
"Maybe later. I...I don't know why I said it there, this is all so..." She closed her eyes and squeezed his hand. "I'm just saying that...I think I might want that, in the future."
"Okay." Hawke leaned forward to kiss her, softly, full of promise. "In the mean time...move in with me." Isabela's eyes went from half-lidded in pleasure to wide as saucers in a second flat.
"What?"
"You just talked about marriage, 'Bela," Hawke replied with a smirk, "I think my proposal's a little more sensible." The smirk died on his face as he looked away. "This place...it's not really my style, but with Mother here, I could make it work. Now, it just feels...empty. Even Bodhan and Sandal are talking about leaving for Orlais."
"Aww, I like them," Isabella interrupted. "I think the little one fancied me, just below enchantments."
"So now...the place just feels empty." Hawke shifted to sit right in front of Isabela and put their hands together. "Here's what I'm thinking. Tomorrow I got to go to the Gallows—Orsino is having a fit, wants me to go down there, something about a 'last straw.' The point is, after I talk with them...let's go to your place at the Hanged Man, get some of your things and just...give living together a shot." The Hawke Smirk slithered back to his cheek. "If you want to get married someday, we have to at least try the domestic thing first." Isabela sighed.
"I'm going to regret admitting that, aren't I?"
"What if we go back inside and skip to the honeymoon?"
"I like the sound of that, Hawke." He stood up, opened the window to his bedroom, and offered a hand to her.
"After you...Messere Hawke."