A/N: I just wanted to see if I could write a one-shot for once in my life. I decided to make this one a Dragon Age (II) Fanfic just because I love that game and Mass Effect is the only thing I've posted so far.
"It's the best place in Thedas!" Varric grinned, his voice incredulous at Hawke's uninterested, blank stare. She simply grunted in response, causing the dwarf to scoff in mock hurt. He didn't know why Hawke didn't agree with his assessment of the Hanged Man. Sure, it was dirty and full of horny drunkards, but it was a bar! One with the best ale in Kirkwall, no less! Of course it had a few rough edges; even so, it added to the rugged charm of the place.
"Come on, Hawke, throw me a bone here! What's got you so out of it today? Did Aveline do something insensitive again?" this at least got the Champion's attention.
"No, of course she didn't do anything. I'm simply tired, I suppose…" she sighed, running a hand through her short, black hair. Varric's gaze grew worried: whenever Hawke admitted to actually feeling worn out or in pain something was seriously wrong. Not that she'd ever been the same after the Rivaini ran off three years before. It was ridiculous really: the least likely person for the Great Hawke, Champion of Kirkwall, to fall for was the one who stole her heart at first sight. The dwarf used to believe that only happened in stories or, of course, in his exaggerated tales.
"Goodnight, Varric." Hawke muttered, catching his attention. He looked upon the weary Champion with barely hidden sympathy; she had held that title, alone, and for too long. Sometimes he wondered how she did it.
"Night, Hawke. Get rest." He said simply, getting a slight nod in return as the woman departed.
…
"It's the best place in this whole world! I love it." Merrill smiled, spreading her arms out as if to fly on the wind surrounding her atop the mountain. She was thankful for Hawke showing her a secret way to the top so they didn't have to face her former clan. But even though she was being as nice and benevolent as always, her eyes were sad and her gait was heavy. Merrill wondered why Hawke was always so sad but she couldn't place it. Maybe she was sad because Isabela left? Merrill was too. She had been a wonderful friend.
"Thank you, Hawke. –For bringing me here, I mean. On the mountain." Merrill stuttered, finding her words meshed together like always. Why was it that they did that when only Hawke was near? How annoying.
"Anytime Merrill." Hawke mumbled, arms crossed and eyes fixed on the edge of the ridge. She looked like she was thinking about jumping over it. In a bout of worry Merrill waved her hands in front of Hawke's face to get her attention away from the ridge. Unfortunately, she hadn't thought of Hawke's soft, ethereal gaze of golden honey to fix itself on her.
Oh my, she never thought these things through…
"Don't do it. I don't want to lose you." the elf said shyly, peering at the beautiful woman through long eyelashes. A tiny smile, barely noticeable, found its way to Hawke's lips. The fondness in the little gesture made Merrill's heart go 'th-thump'. How strange.
"You won't lose me, Merrill, I'm fine." the Champion said, her voice soft even though her eyes were still dull. Merrill looked down and blushed, realizing her statement had probably sounded weird to Hawke.
"I… I just thought- You looked like you were going to…" she trailed off, dodging Hawke's gaze and looking to the ridge instead. Hawke followed her gaze and after a few moments of silence her eyes widened. Merrill peered at her curiously as the woman seemed to realize something as well. She wondered what it was that got her so troubled.
"Don't worry about me, Merrill. I'll see you later." Before the elf knew it, Hawke had begun to leave. He face was so pale these days that sometimes she mistook her for a ghost. Maybe she'd feel better if Aveline talked to her?
…
"To me, this is the best place to be, in Thedas." The Guard-Captain mused, looking off into a distance in her office. Hawke said nothing in reply, instead choosing to twirl the liquid in her glass and stare at its purple color.
Isabela used to drink this all the time…
"Come on Hawke, tell me what's wrong." Aveline requested, looking to her dark-haired companion.
"Nothing." She muttered back, her gaze never wavering from the Rivaini wine. Aveline sighed, knowing just what the matter was: that damned whore seduced Hawke and left her out to dry without one word. The Captain's upper lip curled only slightly in contempt. Not at the woman. But at what she'd done to her closest friend.
"Look, I know it's not nothing. I know you really liked her Hawke, but sometimes… you just have to move on." The words brought a sting to Aveline. No matter how much she hated that whore, Hawke had loved her. The whole situation reminded her of the time she went through after losing Wesley. But back then, she could count on Hawke and even Bethany to help her out, as lonely as she had felt on the inside. She was trying to be there for Hawke but, now, she realized just how trying it was.
Hawke's movements with the glass in her hand paused suddenly as Aveline's words sunk in. it was ridiculous but the Captain was regretting those words at the moment. Especially with Hawke's sharp eyes digging under her skin and making her uncomfortable. But just as suddenly as it came, it went, leaving Aveline to realize she had held her breath. Her palms were even sweaty. Her palms were never sweaty.
"I'll talk to you later, Aveline." The Champion was never always so quiet. She used to be so charming and so cunning- the slickest, most silvery-tongued devil Aveline had ever seen. Now, she only seemed dead; both on the inside and outside.
It was too bad Merrill's assessment of Aveline getting through to the woman turned out to be false.
…
Hawke silently sat in the chair in front of the hearth in her estate, staring blankly into the fire. It moved ceaselessly, with nothing to hold it down or to tell it to settle as it grabbed desperately for air like a drowning child. Its orange light used to seem so alive to Hawke. Now, it was simply as desperate for oxygen as she was. It moved restlessly, searching for life, only to be fated to searching on its lonesome until, finally, it died, just as alone as when it had been borne.
Hawke knew the others were trying to get her to feel better, but too little it was too late. The day she found Isabela to be gone as if she'd never even existed was the day she herself lost her life. Her light. First, it was Carver. Then it was Bethany. Then Mother. And finally, it was Isabela who left her. Was this her destiny? Was she bound to lose all who she held dear? If so, who would be next to leave her? Fenris? Sebastian? Aveline? Surely never Merrill or Varric. Right?
The Champion sighed, lacking the energy to yawn. The liquid in her glass sat as still as she, just like stone. What point was there to moving anymore? It felt cold in her chest, and it hurt worse every day. Her apatite had long since lost itself. She didn't even have the energy or will to drown her sorrows in ale anymore. Not that her tolerance to the alcohol helped.
"My, this is a sad scene isn't it?" a sudden voice. It echoed in Hawke's skull as she tried to process just who it belonged to. Surely, there was no way…
Her thought process ended as she turned, settling her deep gaze on the one and only Isabela.
She was standing there, a hand on her hip and the other delicately holding a crimson rose. Her small smirk was as seductive as it had been their last day together. Hawke's body suddenly overheated as her chest burst with enough pain to make her wince. Her heart thudded hard against her ribcage as if trying desperately to escape the prison it had been in for the past three years.
"Isabela…" she breathed, earning a concerned expression from the gorgeous pirate.
Without thinking, Hawke jumped up and, in a flash, wrapped her arms around Isabela, pulling her close. The rose dropped from the pirate's surprised grip then, hitting the ground just as Hawke pulled back to take in her pirate's beautiful face and her shining, albeit shocked, gaze. Before anything was said, the Champion stole the woman's breath with a heated, passionate kiss. It was so hard, so needy, that it must've bruised their lips. But neither cared.
"Isabela…" Hawke whispered breathlessly once more, once they broke for air.
"Of course it's me, Hawke, what's gotten into you?" the Rivaini asked, brows drawn together as a slight blush colored her cheeks. Hawke only stole her lips once more, holding her closer, tighter. She could care less at that point how Isabela would never really love her back because of how she'd been hurt before. She could care less that that kiss probably meant nothing to the pirate. She could care less…
Isabela suddenly gripped Hawke's shoulders and pushed her away enough to look the dazed woman in the eye.
"Hawke! Answer me would you?" desperation mixed with confusion colored Isabela's voice, getting through to Hawke in her mental haze. Reality came crashing back to her halting thoughts as she registered the pirate brushing away and endless stream of tears from her cheeks. When had Hawke started crying?
"Isabela…" she whispered, burying her face in the crook of her pirate's neck, clinging to her for dear life. "I missed you. I missed you so much." She bared her teeth and began shaking slightly, knowing Isabela could never really be hers. This was all too bittersweet to be real. Maybe it was a ridiculous dream she'd conjured up in her grief-stricken state.
But there was no mistaking the pirate's scent. The feel of her body held tightly against hers. The way her breath grew shallow and ragged. No. This bittersweet moment was real.
The pirate softly shushed Hawke and held her close as well, rubbing her hands on Hawke's back to try and soothe the woman. It wasn't long before Hawke calmed and cuddled close, wishing this moment could last forever. After all, it was the best she'd ever get from the one-sided love of her life. How pathetic, she thought.
Gently, Isabela leaned back and took Hawke's chin. She slowly brought her face up to force her to look her in the eye. For a few timeless moments, they lost themselves in each other's gaze, Isabela studying Hawke closely.
"Why didn't you just say so, silly?" the pirate whispered, closing in. To Hawke's sudden surprise, it was the pirate this time who stole her lips in a passionate lock. Instantly, she responded, allowing Isabela entry, savoring the taste of her mouth.
This time… this time, Hawke wouldn't let her go. Because to her? Isabela's arms were the best place to be in her world.
A/N: So, what did you think? I hope you liked it, this took me and hour and twenty minutes to write. Still, thanks for reading! But seriously, should I make this a two-shot and continue? I kinda want to…