A prequel to my story 'Comforting Shadows' but you don't have to read that to read this.
No pairings just some friendly flirting. This story was inspired by those nights out at University that usually ended in memory loss. I also use the category Humour very, very loosely.
Warning: Dragon age 2 end of Act 1 spoilers and some bad language (well they're drunk what do you expect!).
Rated M: For adult themes and bad language but no smut just poor innuendos.
Hope you like it
Aveline strode into the Hanged man. It was late and as she expected most of the clientele we're either roaring drunk or unconscious. She stepped over a passed out individual and paused at the doorway surveying the darkened tavern and its patrons. Every night she seemed to end up here or at the Blooming Rose, breaking up fights, investigating crimes, arresting crooks. To her it was a pit of excessive debauchery, villainy and not only did it look like the dumping ground for the scummy underbelly of Kirkwall but it smelt like it too. She hated this place and longed for the moment when her nose would stop registering the collective smell of alcohol, piss and vomit that seemed to constantly hang in the air of this dive.
'How could anyone drink here?'
Her question was unwittingly answered as she spied the reigning Queen of Corruption. Isabela was sitting at a table near the back of the tavern holding court with her drunken subjects. Her mischievous eyes were alight with laughter as she spoke to her captivated audience, a drink in one hand the other soothingly rubbing the back of the blonde who had passed out on the table beside her. 'Another drunken floozy for her to boast about tomorrow,' she ignored the very small, very quiet voice in her head (her liberal self) that told her she was jealous of Isabela's ability to charm and enthral people and instead shook her head at the pirate's lack of discretion. She narrowed her eyes as she moved closer preparing for their inevitable and almost customary bickering.
"...so I said, you're not getting that thing anywhere near me without the without the proper docking permit," Isabela finished with a wink. Her attentive crowd erupted into raucous laughter slapping each other on the back in unified delight. Noticing her approach Isabela raised her drink to the warrior, "Guard Captain Aveline to what do we owe this great pleasure?" she greeted loudly and the crowd around the pirate's table immediately dispersed. The sudden disappearance of the Isabela's fanclub at the Guard Captain's name was nothing short of magical, as if the very mention of her status was a part of a ritualistic disappearing spell. Aveline scowled at their quickly retreating backs 'damn criminals,' she though with distaste. Aveline rolled her eyes at the rogue and folded her arms over her chest. "You know full well why I am here. What do you want?"
"Well I'm very glad you asked," she paused and cat stretched in her chair with that leering, aggravating smirk of hers that always made Aveline's hands twitch with temptation to slap it from her face. "I thought we needed a girl's night out."
"A girl's night out?" Aveline repeated slowly through gritted teeth.
"Yes you know. We'll dance, we'll sing, we'll pillow fight, we'll do eachothers make up, gossip about the boys we like," she mocked, "and of course we'll ensure that we drink so much alcohol that we can't remember crossing the boundaries of our friendship despite finding ourselves in an extremely compromising situation in the morning."
"This is the reason you called me away from my duties!" Aveline fumed. "I have no time or interest in your sordid games and your mischief." Giving the pirate her most menacing glare she pointed an accusing finger at the woman. "Your message said Hawke needed me. Where is she?"
Unperturbed by Aveline's glower Isabela smiled sweetly and her eyes never left the warrior as she pulled up the head of her passed out companion.
'Oh maker,' Aveline thought, it was Hawke.
"Greetings," Isabela said impersonating the mage's voice and she used her free hand to open and close the mouth of her intoxicated friend. "I am the strong and illustrious Hawke, paragon of the people. I help the helpless, profit be dammed..."
"Isabela!" Aveline reprimanded forcefully knowing full well who was behind Hawke's current condition. Aveline was stunned by her friends dishevelled state. Hawke took her appearance rather seriously. She never left her Uncle's house without first making sure that she looked immaculate; robes, hair, makeup, everything was constructed and carefully chosen to compliment and create a faultless facade that added and attenuated the woman's beauty. But the Hawke that currently sat opposite her was a stark contrast to her typically refined and sophisticated friend. Her hair was tangled and frizzy except for a dark patch on her blonde hair that suggested she's been lying in wetness (what wetness Aveline dreaded to think), her eye make had run trickling down her face like dark tears and by the look of the dark bruise on her chin she'd been fighting, there was also some sticky yellow debris around her mouth which Aveline silently hoped were undigested crumbs of food. Altogether it looked like Hawke had been dragged through a bush backwards, then a stagnant puddle, then the entire length of the dark roads, through another bush and finally through a tavern privy.
"How was I to know she couldn't hold her drink," Isabela protested holding her hand up in surrender as the other hand clasped onto the sleeping mage's chin keeping her upright. "Even Merrill's had more ale and she's half her size," she motioned towards the young elf that was sat on top of the next table humming cheerfully as she braided the hair of a man who had passed out on the table. Merrill noticed her two friends staring at her and waved a cheerful greeting at Aveline, the confused red-head returned the gesture.
Aveine was never really sure why she was friends with Isabela and Merrill; their friendship was always a source of confusion. The majority of the time they spent together they aggravated her, they never listened to her good advice on improving themselves and they were constantly inquiring about her private life, but it is amazing how saving each other's lives on a daily basis can create camaraderie even amongst those who should be enemies. Hawke's companions were a family of a kind; a strange and dysfunctional family but a family none the less. It was comforting to think of them in such a way she thought that she would never experience that feeling of belonging again after she lost Wesley.
What would Wesley have thought of her friends? She thought suddenly and as always she felt ashamed. Wesley would have never approved of her companions and he would probably have been right. It shamed his memory. She shifted awkwardly. Friends with mages and criminals, how did she end up here? She passed a tired hand over her face and looked up to find Isabela silently watching her again. Aveline would sometimes catch Isabela looking at her with that piercing exposing gaze when the warrior was unprepared and unguarded and it was always unnerving for the very private warrior after all, Isabela's excelled in her ability to read and understand people it was how she manipulated people on and off the battlefield.
Isabela quickly shook off her serious look and changed tactics. "I just thought that we needed some fun after the fiasco in the deep roads, and you know who joining the you know what," she whispered nodding towards the sleeping mage. "She needed some light-hearted pleasure," she reasoned, "and what better way to attain such a state than a drunken night of revelry with just us girls. The boys in our party are banned. They may be pretty but their so broody and boring, except Varric of course he's off hunting his back stabbing brother." Aveline's remained unimpressed and stern so the ever adaptable rogue modified her approach. "In my experience fun is good for the soul and the body...or bodies," she turned the mage's face towards her squeezing Hawke's lips into a pout before giving them a loud smacking kiss.
Aveline sighed as Hawke lazily smirked in her sleep. Hawke did indeed need some merriment. Since meeting Hawke in Ferelden the apostate had quickly gained the warrior's loyalty and trust. She was the most generous person Aveline had ever met, a good and loyal friend who treated everyone she met with great care and respect, she could not have asked for a better leader for their group.
Her life as an apostate had made her a very private person she had to be, any slip of the tongue to the wrong person would lead the Templars straight to her family. As a consequence she very rarely spoke about herself to anyone preferring instead to ask others about their troubles and concerns but ever since the deep roads her companions had noticed a great change in their friend. When she was not petitioning the Viscount or on quests she would spend most of her time in seclusion and when they did see her during missions she seemed distracted and distant and only spoke to give commands. Even her friend's jokes and teasing wouldn't rouse the typically jovial mage and any smiles were thin and perfunctory.
Her growing lack of attention to her friends made the group uneasy. Rivalries rose to the surface and arguments between them were a common occurrence without the apostate's calming interventions. Aveline remembered one such occasion during their last quest to the wounded coast.
Anders began arguing with Merrill. This was not an unusual situation when the two mage's were together but on that day Ander's attacks became increasingly vicious and the elf was nearly in tears at the healer's persistent and personal insults. Hawke seemed completely oblivious to their bickering and walked ahead of the group deep in thought.
In a sudden rush a band of thieves ambushed the party and the distressed elf was not quick enough to establish her rock armour before an assassin drove his daggers into her back. The yell from the elf was nothing compared to the furious scream that erupted from their leader's throat. The bloodcurdling screech was so agonised and disturbing Aveline found herself involuntary covering her ears and before she could even attack a single assailant Hawke raised her staff and projected vengeance.
Fire sprung from the mage covering the entire battle ground with a sudden burning heat. Aveline protectively threw herself over the injured mage before realising that although they were surrounded by flames the fire didn't burn Hawke's companions, the bloodcurdling screams that emanated from the heart of the fire suggested that the bandits were not so lucky and as the fire finally disappeared in a puff of smoke it revealed several blackened corpses whose stench made Hawke's companions cover their nose in disgust. Only Hawke and the assassin remained alive. Hawke's face was impassive as she twirled her staff paralyzing the bandit before stepping forward and slowly walking forward slitting his throat with the blade in her staff. Hawke sneered at the terrified assassin as she slowly allowed him bled to death before releasing her spell with a wave of her hand so he dropped lifelessly to the floor.
Aveline was shocked at Hawke's unusual malevolence against her enemies and as the mage turned towards her companions her eyes seemed empty and distant. She reminded Aveline of Wilmod and Olivia before they transformed and as Hawke took a few stumbling steps towards them the warrior stood over Anders as he tended to Merrill quietly unsheathing the dagger from her boot should a demon present itself. Luckily for Aveline and for Hawke the unpossessed mage fainted with exhaustion two steps away from her friends.
Aveline guiltily shook her head at the memory of how quickly she lost her trust and how close she had come to attacking her closest friend. The Guard Captain had not seen the mage since the incident but reports from her friends spoke of how Hawke's solitary and despondent behaviour had become even worse; if that was even possible. It must have taken all of Isabela's wiles and persuasion to get Hawke to the tavern. It was good to see Hawke outside of her house and smiling even if it was alcohol induced.
Aveline couldn't believe she was about to do this but she good not in good conscious leave her friend with the perilous pirate when the mage's judgement was a little more than impaired. With a relented sigh Aveline sat down in the Hanged man and motioned Nora for round of drinks for her and the pirate. Isabella grinned triumphantly. "I'm only staying to make sure you don't get her into any mischief slattern," Aveline growled threateningly.
Isabela raised her hand to her chest feigning shock. "I am insulted. It's been at least a few hours since she got here so I'm not really sure if there is any more mischief I can get her into," she quipped. She paused and rubbed her chin as if she was deep in thought. "Actually, thinking about it I haven't done anything with her that involves nakedness many thanks for reminding me. I'll put in on my list of things to do with Hawke," she grinned and smoothly moved her free arm around Hawke letting the sleeping apostate's head fall onto her shoulder.
Aveline just managed to restrain herself. Isabela was always trying to drag her into an argument and her favourite method was lewdness. When they travelled together she always takes great delight in telling Aveline every detail of her nightly escapades and when they did not travel together Isabela would make a point to breaks into the barracks just to update the Guard Captain on her latest achievements. Aveline was sure that Isabela enjoyed the warrior's reprimands; it makes her behaviour so much more fun, so illicit. They always fell into the same banter; Isabela goaded and teased, and Aveline scolded and lectured. 'Well not tonight,' Aveline thought. Tonight she would not give Isabela the satisfaction of provoking her.
The warrior forced herself to remain tight lipped and rolled her eyes despondently at Isabela before looking back at her best friend who was grinning like a Hurlock and beginning to dribble slightly onto Isabela's shoulder. "A fearsome mage who can freeze bandits, electrocute darkspawn but can't hold her drink," Aveline mused aloud, pausing to thank Norra for the drinks she placed on their table. "You know the same thing happened after we finished working for Merran," she said resting her head on her hand and idly tracing the top of her ale tankard. "Caver and I decided to take her to a tavern to celebrate and..."
Isabella's mouth dropped and her eyes widened in horror as she shook her head frantically using her free hand to wave at the Guard trying to silence her but it came too late. Hawke twitched at the sound of her brother's name, her head rolled back slightly and her eyes began to slowly open experimentally, one eye after the other as Isabela covered her face with her hand and groaned.
"Caver! That fucking templar wanker...," Hawke slurred trying to sit upright and, using the back of her hand to sloppily wipe the drool away from the corner of her mouth, she entered into a fairly colourful abusive and detailed tirade about her brother. Aveline didn't even know that Hawke knew so many curse words. Hawke was usually so polite and proper so listening to her friend curse was like hearing your parents use bad language for the first time it was shocking and a little embarrassing and she winced with each cuss that left the mage's mouth.
"...Thinks he's bet'a than me," Hawke sneered "thinks he could'a led the family, an apostate family, bet'a than me. He can shove his hypocrisy up his Knight-Commander's fat ugly ar..."
"Maker's balls! She hasn't stopped talking about him for the last hour," Isabela interrupted with a moan as she angrily flicked Hawke's spittle from her shoulder. "If I wanted a belligerent drunk whinging on and on about some bloke that I don't give a shit about I would have invited Fenris," she told the warrior leaning on her hand with a huff. "I thought getting her drunk would be fun, that it would loosen her up a bit but the last hour has been dull, dull, dull."
Hawke draped her arms around Isabela's neck pulling her clumsily towards her. "Yooou don't need to get to me drunk to loosen me up sweetness," she husked trying to wink seductively at the pirate but the result was more of a lopsided blink.
"I stand corrected. I think this night just took a turn for the better," Isabela said brightly grinning at Aveline as she wrapped her arm around the mage. For some reason only known to the drunken woman Hawke proceeded to try and kiss the rogue's cheek without moving her head from the rogue's shoulder before giving up and trying to drink her dregs without picking up her mug with her hands and instead using only her mouth.
Aveline just couldn't help herself. She internally groaned at her inability to just let some of the impish comments slide; her father's lectures really had been built into her being. "Keep those paws to yourself vixen," she warned reluctantly picking up her tankard and sneered as Isabela grinned smugly at successfully goading the warrior.
Taking the last swig from her tankard Hawke's bleary eyes finally focussed on the talking blurry shape that had been sitting opposite her. "Heeeeyyy! It's Aveline," she squealed with delight leaning forward to grab at Aveline's occupied hands pushing some of the Guard's drink down her armour. Isabela laughed brazenly as an exasperated Aveline wiped the alcohol from her lap. "She's my bestest friend in the whooooole wide world," the oblivious Hawke drawled laying her head back on Isabela's shoulder with a contented sigh looking up at the beautiful Rivaini, "I love Aveline, she's my battle battering ram. Made of wood cause she's an immovable force like a strong sturdy freckly tree," she rambled dreamily, "and if she wasn't so straight I would love the challenge of trying to climb her..."
"Speaking of battles," Aveline blurted interrupting the mage before she ruined their friendship and ignoring the chuckling Isabela, "what happened to your chin?" she asked examining the bruise on the apostate's jaw.
Hawke ignored the Guard captain as she realised her drink was empty and was currently busy trying to steal the rogue's pint. Holding the mage at arm's length via her forehead as the mage tried to stretch across towards her ale the pirate took a taunting swig from her drink and answered for their occupied leader. "Well she's drunk and the tables at the Hanged man aren't as sturdy as they seem," she rolled her eyes at stupidity of such a question gently pushing the whining defeated Hawke away. Everyone knows that getting drunk at the Hanged man leads to dancing on the table.
"You let her...," the warrior nodded towards the seated mage who was swaying slightly in her seat pouting, "...dance on the table?"
"It was Merrill's fault," Isabela protested. "There was a band playing and she got up on the table and then there were people cheering and ale and clapping and ale," Isabela paused as she drew the tankard to her lip, "and I may have pulled her up on to the table," she added quietly into her drink.
"What band?"
"Oh well," Isabela waved her hand dismissively, "that's what she fell on, onto the lead lute to be exact." She left her tankard on the table and leaned forward in her chair with a smile that reached her eyes making them sparkle excitedly. "It was a breathtaking encounter to watch. The tactics were particularly unusual but our leader once again emerged victorious."
"Maker's breath Hawke." Aveline smiled from her ale mug and actually felt a little sorry to have missed the mage making such a spectacle.
A bubbly Merrill plopped down beside the warrior. "Oh I see Hawke is awake. That's good, means there's hope for her brain cells." Aveline leaned back to look around the elf to the sleeping man at the other table, he looked like an un-horned quanari leaving Aveline to wonder how Merrill had managed to braid all his hair so quickly.
"DO YOU WANT SOME FOOD HAWKE?"
"Maker Merrill she's drunk not deaf," Aveline winched.
"Heeeeyyyyyyy look now it's Merrill. I luuurrrrve Merrill, Hawke told Isabela seeming to temporarily forget that the rogue had actually met the elf. "She's a blood mage. Sssshhhhhhh..," she whispered conspiratorially placing a finger on Isabela's lips, "...don't tell anyone."
Hawke ignored her friend's laughter and studied Isabela's lips intently. "You have lovely lips," Hawke sluggishly prodded at Isabela's full red lips, "and your eyes are the colour of honey 'cause the Maker knew you'd be sweet." She lazily smirked grabbing the pirate's neck to pull her towards her. "You know if I wasn't so much of a lady I would..." the rest of her sentence cut off to her companions sitting opposite her as she leaned up and whispered her wishes in the rouge's ear. Merrill and Aveline watched as Isabela sultry smugness quickly turned to frowning confusion followed by wide open mouthed shock. "...usually it's done with potatoes," Hawke proposed aloud as she pulled away from the oblivious rogue to reach around and snatch her pint, "but for you it'll be nothing but oranges," she finished taking a long satisfied gulp from Isabela's drink.
"What did she say? Was it dirty?" A thoroughly entertained Merrill asked clapping excitedly.
Isabela opened and closed her mouth in a daze. The experienced pirate wasn't really sure what the mage was proposing. 'Why would they need the boots of the Overseer and a pair of Dalish Gloves?'
Aveline's amused snort broke the pirate from her unhealthy imagination and she gave the Ferrelden a gesture with her middle finger that the warrior was pretty sure represented an extremely rude Rivaini insult given the frequency and instances she showed it to the warrior. Isabela's eyes drifted back to Hawke who was currently drinking the pirate's drink, "You bloody trickster!" she yelled finally realising she had been tricked. A scuffle ensued as she tried to win back the pint pulling the tankard out of the mage's surprisingly strong grasp and spilling its contents down her top. "Andraste's knickers!" Isabela fumed standing up to furiously wipe the alcohol from her favourite dress as Aveline and Merril roared with laughter. Hawke laid her head back on the table and groaned miserably.
"Ok Hawke it's time for bed," Aveline said with a small smile she estimated that she had under a hour to get Hawke to bed hugging a bucket, "these reprobates have corrupted you enough."
"Yes you're right Aveline," Isabela agreed readily as she looked up from her spoiled tunic. Aveline frowned suspiciously at the unusual situation. "If you could just help me get her up the stairs to my room." Aveline frown deepened at the typical situation. "Do not worry Aveline," Isabela soothed as she sat back down. "I will make it my personal quest to make sure she gets safely to bed and has the best night of her life, I mean best night's sleep of her life," Isabela correctly quickly with a smug smile. Aveline rolled her eyes as Merrill giggled.
Isabela continued with a wave of her hand, "Look the respectable mage can't go home in this state so why not leave her with me. I'll take very, very good care of her. I have vast experience of tending to the needs of drunken maidens," she finished with that treacherous smile as she stroked the sleeping mage's hair.
Aveline considered the options, for once Isabela was right, Hawke's relationship with her mother had become strained since her brother joined the Templars so her mother could not see her in a drunken state but sleeping in this pit would ruin Hawke's good reputation and the nobles would use it as an excuse to prevent the Hawke family from regaining their title and estate (heaven forbid that a Ferelden should rise to their ranks even if she was ludicrously rich one). Plus she certainly wasn't going to leave Hawke to the mercy of the unscrupulous pirate. Aveline rubbed the back of her neck thoughtfully as her eyes finally settled on Merrill. The hierarchy of Kirkwall didn't care what happened in the alienage (well not at the moment Aveline had careful plans to change that). "Hawke will stay with Merrill," Aveline decided. Isabela cursed and Merrill smiled brightly (she loved sleepovers). The elf quickly began to pick up their things from the table before the Guard changed her mind.
"Come on you'll have to help me," Aveline said to the moody pirate as she moved round the table and shook Hawke gently until the tired mage lifted her head from the table. "Wake up drunky it's time to go."
"Nnnnoooooo. I want more ale," Hawke whined petulantly as she banged the table with her fists. "I want more fun," she slammed the table again. "It's too early to go home now," she pouted her large bloodshot eyes pleading with the Guard Captain. "Heeeeyyy let's go to the Blooming Rose," she said enthusiastically excited by her proposal. "I'll treat everyone to a stiff one... and a drink ha, ha, ha," she snorted.
Aveline jumped as Isabela banged her feet onto the table and after a few seconds of rummaging around in her boat pulled out a small piece of paper. "I've got a Blooming Rose voucher."
Hawke gasped and her wide eyes lit with glee, "Wow, discounted debauchery" she yelled grabbing the voucher and reading the terms and conditions (they were very short). She slowly frowned as her drunken mind processed the new information. "How do you get a voucher from a brothel?"
The pirate snatched the voucher and waved it in the mage's face. "You have to be a very, very valuable customer," she purred lowly.
Hawke hummed lecherously "I bet you are," she smirked moving towards the grinning rogue until she was perched on the edge of her chair, "you naughty minx you," Hawke growled leaning forward to playfully punch the rouge's shoulder, of course she missed completely and the unbalanced mage toppled forward onto the floor with a yelp taking her chair with her. Aveline shook her head at her friend's drunken antics her small brief smile the only evidence of her amusement. Isabella on the other hand, laughed loudly and slapped the table in amusement as she looked down at her fallen friend. Still chuckling, she leaned down slightly and with one hand picked up the chair and then slowly pulled up the dazed mage by the collar. The red-faced Hawke glanced at the rogue as Isabela doubled over in her chair at the sight of their leader's astonished expression. The kneeling mage couldn't help but burst into laughter and she wrapped her arms around the waist of the seated pirate as they snorted happily.
Aveline sighed and seeking coalition from one of her companions glanced questioningly at the quiet contemplative elf. "A stiff what?" Merrill's asked Aveline with large innocent eyes. The two delinquents' jaws dropped in unison as they spun to look at the elf before they cracked into another bout of hysterical laughter.
Aveline cleared her throat loudly before the smirking Isabela could open her mouth to let lose the most lewd explanation she could muster and Isabela's rising excitement at that prospect of a free night at the brothel was brought to an abrupt halt when she looked at the forbidding stance and steel edged glare of the Guard Captain of Kirkwall. Isabela eye's dulled and her body sagged in defeat. "Come Lady Hawke," she sighed dejectedly removing Hawke from her lap and standing up, "let's continue the merriment at Merrill's."
Hawke stood up awkwardly with Aveline's help. "Huzza to Merrill's!," she cried raising her hands in celebration before swinging her right hand back in a wide loop slapping Isabela on her backside. The force of the swing knocked the surprised Isabela forward forcing her to steady herself on the table.
Isabela had very few rules but one of those rules, in fact her number one irrefutable rule, was that no-one touched Isabela without Isabela's permission. Instinctively she pivoted sharply with a snarl ready to break some fingers but the culprit, being held up by the Guard Captain, just smiled sweetly, fluttered her eyelashes and blew the pirate a kiss. The stunned rogue laughed at such a bawdy action from their illustrious leader and suddenly overcome with the overwhelming desire to hug the drunken apostate (the second of Isabela's limited rules being that Isabela always did whatever Isabela desired) she pulled the mage away from Aveline for a hug and planted a sloppy kiss on the mage's burning left cheek. Isabela reared backwards slightly surprised by her seemingly innate reaction and an awkward silence fell on the party; the pirate's unusual expression of affection without the obligatory witty or snark remark making them all feel slightly uncomfortable. Isabela quickly remedied the situation by giving Hawke a hard slap on her backside.
Hawke whooped in delight and the two laughed loudly as Isabela lead her from the bar with a supporting arm around her waist. The giggling elf and amused warrior followed their exit and the four friends braced themselves for the cold night air leaving the Hanged man behind unaware that their night had barely begun.
Pretty please R & R and make me a happy bunny.
Only one chapter left and it's already written so read and follow without fear.