Author's notes: This is a gift for Hot_Elf, who asked (among other things) for Zevran, Isabela, fluff and smut and romance, adventures and humour! Let's see how I did!
Hot_Elf, the fact that you liked this story truly makes me happy! I hope you'll enjoy this version as well!
Happy holidays everyone!
Prologue: A pirate's life
"Welcome aboard, lass. How fare your sea legs thus far?"
With one hand solidly planted on her cocked hip, another loosely wrapped around the hilt of the knife at her belt, she threw him a roguish grin, "How would you say they fare, my captain?"
He looked her over once, slowly, a smile on his lips, "I'd say they'd been waiting their whole sodding life to walk the deck of a ship! You look like you were born for this, little beauty."
She shrugged, "I wasn't born for anything. I do what I like, is all."
"Ah, wise words for one so young! Come here, then. Let me impart some old captain wisdom to you."
She joined him by the helm where he leaned with both hands against the rail, looking at the horizon. She sat on the rail, her thigh against his hand, and leaned into him.
"Is it wisdom you wish to share, Captain, or something else?"
The captain laughed a loud, bellowing laughter.
"Maravilla! How brazen you are! But no, just the wisdom for now, mia isabela." He turned back to the sea, tilting his tanned, bearded face to the sun.
"A pirate's life is not for everyone, of course… but when it is the life for you, you just know it. There's no other feeling like this in the world. It can be a harsh life, aye, and a dangerous one, and the sea, ah, she can be a cruel, unforgiving mistress… but put a good ship between you and the vast seas, a good crew to sail it, and this life can get you three things hard to find anywhere else: adventures, treasures, and freedom."
He closed his eyes under the harsh light of the sun for a moment before turning back to her, a twinkle in his eyes, "Does it sound like something you would want to do, Isabela?"
"Well, Captain," she said, the mischievous grin reappearing on her lips, "how could a girl ask for anything more?"
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Part I: Adventures
Zevran
His heart beat faster with each step he took, leather boots barely making a sound as his feet hit the ground with a steady rhythm, few people turning to look at him in surprise as he rushed past them. He could hear the sounds of the crowded marketplace fading behind him, the soft whistling of the wind in his ears as he ran; then, behind him, higher and to the right, he heard a muffled laughter. The smile came to his lips almost without thinking: she always laughed when she was excited. It was almost always her downfall.
He feinted right then quickly ducked left in a narrow alley that led to the waterfront. He heard behind him the dull thump that meant she had leapt down from the rooftops onto the street, but as hard as he tried, he didn't hear her footsteps following him. He kept running along the row of houses and shops facing the sea, trying to decide if it was safe enough to risk glancing back.
She came at him from above.
He was pinned down in an instant, feeling her knee planted in the middle of his back, the cold kiss of steel against his throat… and again, he heard her soft, muffled giggle.
"But I heard you jump to the street!" he protested, and this time her laughter wasn't muffled.
"I threw a sack down. It was just lying there on the roof, full of… I don't know. I do hope it wasn't fragile. It didn't sound fragile when it crashed. You should have known the difference, though. That's not very professional of you, Zevran Arainai. Very sloppy work. Tsk, what will the masters think?"
"If you tell them about this, I'll just tell them about the time when I got you in the plaza, or that time I managed to sneak up on you and you didn't even wake up…"
"All right, I hear you; we're still pretty far from even." He felt her lips brush his ear as she continued, softly, "but I'll get there one day, you know. Then what will the great Zevran do?"
"Ah, you know me. I'll think of something."
"Mmm. I'm sure you will."
She let go of him and he stood up, brushing off the dust from his armor.
"Well! That was bracing!" she exclaimed, linking arms with him, "How about a nice stroll by the sea, to catch our breath?"
"I am your prisoner, do what you wish with me."
"I can do what I wish with you anytime I want, Zevran," she said, voice sultry, before bursting with laughter. "Come on, enough training for today! I won and I want to end on a high note. Let's enjoy ourselves. Please? Just look at the ships!"
She gestured at lines of boats moored alongside the quays, holding tighter to his arm with her other hand.
"Where do you think this one came from?" she asked, pointing at the nearest one, an imposing vessel harboring a black and yellow flag, "The things it must have seen! Where do you think it is going next?"
He laughed at her enthusiasm.
"What does it matter?"
"Ah, Zevran, where is your sense of adventure, hm?"
"I have enough adventures without dreaming, Rinna. When you build adventures in your head, the reality always tends to be… disappointing."
"The Dalish, again? Just because you've been disappointed once doesn't mean it will always be like this, you know," she said, pouting.
"How do you do this?" he asked, stopping to look at her, "How did you stay so… full of life, after the training you've had?"
Her smile faltered for a second before shrugging.
"I guess all my dreams haven't died just yet." She tugged on his arm, "Come on. It's getting late. Let's head back."
He followed her, but when they reached the first line of houses he turned, throwing a last glance at the ships, rocking gently on the water.
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Isabela
Her heart beat faster with every step she took, the expensive doeskin shoes barely making a sound as her feet hit the ground with a steady rhythm, many people turning to stare at her as she danced past them. Her partner lifted her up in a twirl of skirts then lowered her down gently, and she found her footing quickly, keeping up with the complicated figures of the dance.
Her dance partner kept guiding her around the room, an amused twinkle in his eyes.
"I think this unique dress you are wearing is having the desired effect," he noted, as they passed more shocked faces that quickly disappeared in a blur as they swirled. "You truly are a sight to behold."
"Then I guess my husband will be pleased," she said, a polite smile on her lips.
"That or he's seething with rage somewhere in the crowd, seeing you display all of your… loveliness on the arm of another man. Is it prudent, riling him so, hm… what was it that he called you… Naishe?"
She winced, ever-so-slightly.
"I prefer Isabela."
"Isabela, hm? How appropriate," His smile predatory, gaze defiant as he dipped her. His eyes were not on her, however, but on someone in the crowd, above her head.
"I don't care about prudence," she replied when he brought her back up, "I don't care about what he thinks. He's nothing to me, I'm nothing to him. I just have less ways of letting it be known to the world, the way he does."
"I see." He pressed closer to her as the dance demanded, his hands insistent on the small of her back. She grasped the back of his neck as he dragged her across the floor, other couples following the movement in a well-choreographed demonstration.
"So," she said, her voice low and sultry, "I hear that you are a business partner of sorts of my husband, is that right, master…?"
"Emidio," he supplied, "and no, that is not exactly true. I do not deal with your husband directly and care little for the man himself, although I'm part of an organisation that deals with him from time to time."
"Ah, right. You are a master Crow, correct?"
"Correct," a knowing smile forming on his lips.
"I have always been curious," she continued as he spun her, bringing her bare back flush against his chest. She leaned her head back on his shoulder as he guided her steps, her lips almost touching the skin behind his ear. "How would one go about hiring a Crow to murder someone?"
His hands trailed down her sides, taking hold of her hips as they sway.
"Well," he answered, unperturbed, "one would talk to a master Crow and arrange for a contract to be drawn. Then the target would be identified and a proper payment would be agreed upon."
She danced away and he caught her wrist, whirling her back to him.
"Ah," she said as he spun her away again on the other side, "and what would be considered an appropriate payment?"
He brought her back against his chest, his eyes alight with amusement. "It depends on the target, really."
"Take, for example, that obnoxious jewelled necklace I am wearing right now, the elaborate construction that holds this dress together. Would this necklace be considered sufficient payment to eliminate a target such as… let us say, my husband? Theoretically, of course."
His fingers came to rest on the top of her breast as he dipped her again, and she felt him weigh the necklace in his hand. When he brought her back up, she saw that his predatory smile was back.
"More than sufficient," he assured, sliding his firm, muscled thigh between her knees as they spun together.
"I know a place," she told him in a low tone, "where we would not be disturbed."
"Oh? And what would we do there, Isabela?" he asked with eyes burning.
"There," she looked intently into his eyes, "I will let you take this necklace off me, along with anything else you wish to remove. Then, maybe, we can come to an understanding that allows us both to get something we want."
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Zevran & Isabela
"Ah!"
Zevran spun Isabela around, getting an all-around view of her glorious naked body before wrapping an arm around her shoulders, the other one coming down to catch her behind the knees, and carrying her bridal style to the four poster bed that occupied a corner of her vast captain's quarters. He dropped her unceremoniously on the bed while she laughed uncontrollably.
"Have I thanked you yet," he asked with a grin, kneeling on the bed by her side, "for the gracious favor you are doing me?"
He crawled over her, skin gliding against skin, until he was able to catch her lips in a passionate kiss.
"Favor?" she repeated in disbelief as soon as she could breathe again. "You call this a favor?"
"Well," he said, nibbling at her earlobe, "you rescued me from the cold arms of the sea where I had been holding on for dear life to an empty barrel for who knows how many days…"
"Two hours at the most, but…" she murmured, gasping as his lips trailed down her throat slowly, his tongue flicking teasingly, tasting her skin. "Mmm, please continue…"
"Yes, and you're escorting me to a safe harbor where I can inform my superiors that I have successfully fulfilled my assigned contract, which is to say that you have saved my life twice…"
His mouth found her breast and he rolled his tongue around the hardening tip, his hand slowly sliding down to the junction of her legs. His fingers teased her center gently, barely brushing against her, never quite caressing her the way she craved. She arched her back wantonly, but his touch stayed tortuously light.
"Yes, exactly," she said, a tremor in her voice. "This is much more than a favor, Zevran. You owe me big."
His lips followed a path downward as he kissed the soft skin of her belly, his hands sliding down her legs to grasp her knees, bending them gently, "Ah, and being in your debt is such a heavy burden, my delicious Isabela, one that I shall carry with honor."
He kissed the inside of her thigh, his tongue lazily tracing round patterns on the sensitive skin there. She sighed softly, grasping his hair with one hand, "Zevran, please…"
"Your wish is my command," he replied, hooking both her legs around his shoulders.
His mouth descended on her, his tongue parting her folds, tracing circles around the little nub that had her crying out in pleasure. Her hands came up, grasping the bedpost behind her head as her back arched off the mattress under his careful but expert ministrations.
"I forgot how good you were at this," she admitted, already a little out of breath. He hummed softly, one hand sliding down her thigh to join his mouth, caressing her in small, upwards circles until one of his fingers slid easily inside her. She gasped and closed her eyes, her head thrown back, lost to pleasure, "Oh, yes! Yes, please, oooooh…"
Her hips undulated in rhythm with his caresses, a rhythm that was rapidly increasing as her breath grew shorter.
"Oh, Zevran, please don't stop, you feel amazing, just… yes, oh, yes…"
The sudden loud knock at her door didn't even slow them down.
"Just a… just a moment!" she called out, her hips moving more urgently. "Just a little more," she urged in a lower tone, "just like… ah, yes, just like that, please keep going, please don't stop, don't…"
A long, drawn out moan escaped her lips as her whole body tensed, her hips moving in sharp jerks against him. He kept caressing her through her orgasm, letting her ride it out on his fingers and tongue until she sagged into the mattress, boneless and satisfied.
Someone knocked on the door again, this time more urgently.
"What?" Isabela yelled, not moving a muscle. "This better be important!"
Zevran rolled on his back as a man yelled an answer through the closed door.
"A ship is coming fast behind us, Captain! She seems to be getting ready for a fight!"
Isabela raised herself up on her elbows, looking down at the blond head resting on the bed by her leg.
"Zevran?"
"Hmm?"
"Is it possible that you were less than truthful with me?"
"About what?" he asked innocently, rolling on his front to look at her.
"About the contract you just fulfilled, maybe?"
"Do you mean how I omitted to tell you my target was the captain of a ship and now the crew is after me to get revenge, that I had to dive into the sea to escape and that is when you found me?"
Isabela sighed, loudly.
"To your battle stations!" she yelled through the door.
"Come on, then, get dressed," she said to Zevran, slapping his naked buttocks. "You put me into this mess, you're going to help me get out of it!"
"My dear Isabela, wouldn't you rather I remain in your debt? Here, in the safety of your quarters?"
"I'd rather we all stay alive, particularly me, so I'm in a position to collect what is due me later. Come on, Zevran, where is your sense of adventure?"
"I'm afraid it is lost somewhere at the bottom of the freezing sea."
"Then let's go get it back!"
The main deck was abuzz with activity when they opened the cabin's doors: sailors running everywhere, climbing the rigging, pushing cannons through gun ports, getting the ship ready for battle. Isabela gained her post at the helm. When she turned back, Zevran was nowhere in sight.
"Figures," she sighed, before she began barking orders over the sound of crashing waves and various items being dragged across wooden planks. She then grabbed the helm and turned the ship around, facing their assailants.
After the battle, while everyone was congratulating each other on their uncontested victory, Isabela went in search of Zevran. She found him suspended upside down, holding on to the shroud with his feet and tying up loose rigging, the blade of a knife between his teeth and his eyes crinkled with laughter.
"Isabela!" he exclaimed when he was done, after carefully removing the knife from his mouth. "Haha! That was invigorating! Did you see what I did?"
"I have to say that I did not," she said, smiling in spite of herself, her hands firmly planted on her hips, "and now I deeply regret missing that show!"
"That… thing, that… wooden thing, there, on the mast, it got hit by a cannonball and it was about to fall on you! I climbed the ropes and I ran over the sails, catching it just in time! Haha, marvellous!"
"I dare say, Zevran, we may still have a long way to go, but we just might make a pirate out of you yet! Maybe we'll begin with some appropriate vocabulary."
He righted himself and dropped down in front of her, smiling broadly, "I believe it is now you that owe me, Isabela."
"Well," she observed while dragging him to her quarters, the sailors around them still cheering, "let us see what I can do about that!"
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Part II: Treasures
Zevran
Today, they learned about endurance.
All morning they crouched with their backs to the wall and legs bent at a right angle, as if sitting on invisible chairs, and arms extended straight in front of them. After two hours, when the burn had been intolerable, the master had informed them that the first to fall to the ground would receive a hundred lashes; the second one, ninety lashes, and so on, until only one remained: that one would receive extra rations at dinner. Zevran had been second to last to fall; ten lashes that left a worse taste in his mouth than a hundred ones would have. Bitter, and salty, like defeat.
In the afternoon they did it all over again.
After supper, they sent them to bed. Most of the other children had to be carried to their cot. Zevran mustered the last of his strength and walked to his, collapsing upon it face first, landing at an awkward angle. He didn't care: he could still reach under his pillow and that was enough. There was a hole in the sheet there; if he twisted the sheet just so, it lined up with a hole in the straw mattress. In that hole, he kept the only thing that was still his, the only memory he had of a woman long gone.
Only they weren't there anymore.
"Looking for this?" a known voice asked from the foot of his bed. Clenching his teeth together, he rolled on his back to face his master. The man stood merely two feet from the bed, a pair of painfully familiar leather gloves clutched in one hand.
"You must endure, child," the master said in a honeyed voice. "Stand up. Endure the pain. Reach out to me and touch the gloves. I'll let you keep them if you do. It's not that far, if you can endure. Come on, Zevran."
His eyes full of anger and hatred, Zevran remained lying on his cot, not a muscle on his body moving. The master let out an exaggerated sigh, "I guess you don't really deserve these, then, do you? I guess you don't deserve anything nice at all."
The master walked away, Zevran's burning stare following him out of the room. He kept staring at the door until morning, the burning anger in his eyes never fading, but he didn't move.
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Isabela
Isabela ran a hand along the rail as they tour the ship – her ship – while the first mate described the ship's capacities and introduced each members of the crew they passed in a bored tone of voice. The Siren's Call, hers, finally.
"What's the matter, Carlo?" she asked when they reached the helm and the man's monotone chatter finally ended, "You seem… displeased."
The man remained silent a moment, as if thinking over his answer, "The Siren's Call is a fickle creature. She needs a man's touch."
"Is that so? Did you ever think, Carlo," Isabela said, smiling, "that she's so fickle because she needs, in fact, a woman's touch?"
Carlo didn't answer.
"She's a real beauty," Isabela continued, her hands caressing the polished wood of the helm, "but she feels trapped, burdened by the affairs of men, forced to live under their command. Under my hands, she will soar, Carlo. I guarantee it. With my touch, she'll be free."
"Do you mean to make us all pirates?"
"I mean to make you all rich and free men. Anyone not interested is free to leave. We'll sail the Eastern seas, we will fight and plunder, taking what we want for ourselves. When I see something I want, I take it by any means necessary. It is as simple as that, Carlo."
She turned to face the length of the ship in front of her, her hands wrapping around the handles of the helm.
"When I see something I want," she repeated, determined, "I take it."
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Zevran and Isabela
"This is disgusting," Isabela complained, following Zevran down the narrow tunnel. "Why did you bring me here?"
"Again, I did not bring you here, Isabela," Zevran answered, amused. "I merely ask for transportation to this deserted island where my mark has chosen to hide from the Crows. You decided yourself that you were joining me when I mentioned that the rich merchant I was sent to kill went into hiding with all his fortune."
"As if you didn't know what you were doing when you told me this," Isabela said with a shrug. "You know I couldn't pass up an opportunity like that."
"I might have said it to ensure that I would have the pleasure of your company in these less than savory accommodations. You were always at your best in tight quarters, my dear."
"All right, enough flattery. I swear, if I see another of those stupid giant venomous rats, I'll scream, stealth mission be damned! I still have bits in my hair from our last encounter."
"I believe that we are, in fact, getting close."
"Good. Remember: treasure for me, assassination target for you."
"Yes. Whatever treasure I would find, I would have to give the Crows anyway. I would very much prefer to cover your gorgeous body with shiny coins."
They emerged in a small cave, about twenty feet wide, empty but for two small chests on the ground by the north wall. Isabela went straight for them, whistling low when she opened one. It was full to bursting with coins, precious stones and jewels. She promptly stuffed her various belt pouches with the content of one chest.
"I think I can carry the other one back to the ship myself," she whispered, lifting the second chest.
"Good. I'll just try to have a quick look in the next cave, try to ascertain…"
He heard a quick gasp, then a murmured, "Damn it!" followed by a loud, crashing sound. Back in the tunnel, Isabela had apparently dropped the chest.
"Who's there?" a panicked voice called out. Zevran swore under his breath. "It came from the small cave behind here, where I put my fortune! You told me there was no other way in there!"
A muffled male voice answered from the other cave, the words unintelligible.
"Why yes, obviously you were wrong!" the first one shouted, fear in his voice. "Guards! All guards! I am under attack! Save me!"
There was a rumble of heavy metal plates clanking and the sliding of swords. Zevran drew his weapons, backing away until his back was to the wall.
"Isabela!" he called out. "He has guards!"
"Sorry!" she answered, her voice already further away. "I have to get this to my ship!"
"There are six of them!" Zevran shouted, as the merchant's guards began to fill the small space.
"Nothing you can't handle, Sweetheart! I'll wait for you for as long as I can!"
"Brasca!" Zevran cursed, holding his sword higher to welcome his first assailant, blocking his attack and plunging his dagger in the other man's neck in one fluid motion.
Five, he thought.
He flipped his dagger, catching it by the tip, and threw it at a second guard. The blade sunk into the man's left eye. Four. Zevran fell on one knee, sweeping another guard's legs and plunging his sword in the man's chest when he was on his back. Three. Two guards came at him simultaneously, the small cave not allowing for more at a time. As one guard swung his sword to attack, Zevran ducked, causing the man to strike a blow at his comrade-in-arms. In the confusion that followed, Zevran quickly plunged his blade into one guard's neck, then the other. One. The remaining guard raised his weapon and charged, panic clearly written on his face. With an easy flick of his wrist, Zevran deflected the blade upwards, disarming the other man. He slit his throat before the man had time to beg for his life.
"What's going on out there?" a scared voice shouted from the other cave, "Did we get him?"
Zevran got his dagger back and cleaned it roughly against the guard's sleeve. Weapons in hands, he walked to the entrance of the cave.
"Not quite," he said conversationally. "The Crows send their regards, Horacio."
When the merchant lay dead seconds later, Zevran's eye caught a glimmer of something shiny clutched in his hand. He pried the fingers open, taking the object: a small gold bar. Zevran looked at it thoughtfully, then slid the bar in his belt pouch and headed out, not looking back once. Isabela was coming back to shore in a rowboat when he emerged from the caves.
"I knew you could do it!" she exclaimed upon seeing him.
"I am pretty awesome, aren't I?" he laughed. "Here. You forgot something." He threw her the gold bar he had found. She caught it, her eyebrows rising in surprise when she saw what it was, and looked back at him.
"Why didn't you keep it?"
He shrugged, "Even if I had, it wouldn't truly be mine."
"Then just don't tell the Crows you have it. Zevran, you did incredible work, here. You deserve this."
"What I deserve makes no difference. What I want makes no difference."
Isabela looked at him in silence, biting her lip.
"It should," she said at length.
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Part III: Freedom
Zevran
"Is this all you have? I was told that you would be the one to break me. How have you succeeded in breaking anyone, hmm? Did they succumb out of boredom, perhaps?"
Zevran squirmed against the wooden planks under his back, the movement causing the chains around his wrists and ankles to clank softly. His torturer walked around the rack where Zevran was tied up with his arms and legs spread wide.
"You have quite the mouth on you, little chick," he said in a honeyed voice. "Maybe we'll make a crow out of you yet. There is a long way to go, however… a long, bloody, painful way."
He took a blade from a tray next to Zevran's head, a nasty-looking knife with a serrated edge. Slowly, he brushed the flat of the blade against Zevran's skin, across his chest. As the blade bit into his flesh, Zevran clenched his teeth, his arms jerking violently, pulling on the chains.
"You're going to hold on, little chick, won't you? You're so stubborn, you just might. And if you do, I'll take these off you. No more restraints. No more chains, forever. Would you like that?"
Zevran looked up at his torturer, his gaze burning with defiance. His voice was denuded of its previous bravado when he answered.
"In all my life," he said, slowly marking each word, "I will never want anything more."
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Isabela
"I don't want to marry that guy, mother!"
Isabela paced the length of the small kitchen while an older woman seated by the fire was calmly sewing, unperturbed by the agitation.
"You are so… unruly," the woman said, her voice devoid of emotions. "You need to learn your place in this world. If you will not convert, then you will be married and play the role that has been given to you."
"It's not for you to decide!" Isabela exclaimed, turning to face her mother. "This is not what I am meant to be. This is not my place, and it never will be!"
"Where is it, then, the place that you believe should be yours?" the mother asked, shoving her sewing work down in her lap, a hint of exasperation finally discernable in her tone, "What is it that you want?"
Arms crossed, Isabela affronted her mother's icy stare with her own, burning one.
"I want to be free."
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Zevran and Isabela
His elbows on the rail, hands joined together, Zevran was looking over at the calm seas that stretched to the horizon, his face an unreadable mask.
"You do know that this position displays your ass in a very enticing manner?"
Zevran smiled, although it was small with a hint of sadness.
"Yes, of course. I am waiting for your first mate to take the hint," his words were playful, but his tone was strained, his heart clearly not in it.
"You've been out here for a while, now," Isabela pointed out, moving to stand beside him. "Aren't you cold? Don't you want to join me in my quarters, warm yourself up?"
Zevran shook his head, the sad smile still on his lips.
"Not now. Maybe in a little while."
Isabela leaned back on the rail, arms crossed.
"What are you going to do in Ferelden anyway?" she asked, pouting. "It's cold and rainy and full of dogs."
Zevran's smile slowly vanished as he kept staring at the horizon.
"I have taken a contract," he said at length.
"Well, don't you seem eager," Isabela said, nudging his shoulder. "You don't have to go, you know," she added in a softer tone. "You're on my ship already. I can take you somewhere else, if you want. Anywhere. You could be free, Zevran."
Zevran stayed silent for a long time after that, his gaze fixed on something far away.
"There is nowhere I could go where they would not find me," he paused, his voice even, "but there is a way to be free of them. There is a way I can get my freedom and this way waits for me in Ferelden. Thank you for your generous offer, Isabela," he added, turning to look at her, "but I'm going to stay out here for a while longer."
Isabela straightened up.
"I'm not sure what you're really after in Ferelden, Zevran," she said, putting a hand on his shoulder, "but I do hope that you will find whatever it is that you need there."
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Epilogue: Adventures, treasures freedom… and a little something extra
"So, you live here, now, is that it?" Zevran said, looking around the Hanged Man, a politely curious expression on his face.
"Hey, don't knock it 'til you try it, gorgeous," Isabela answered with a shrug, setting their drinks down on the table. Zevran took his glass with a sigh.
"There was a time, not so long ago, where we would have been sharing much more than a drink together by this time. Are we getting old, my dear Isabela?"
"Well, we're getting… something," Isabela said thoughtfully. Zevran eyed her questioningly, settling more comfortably in his chair.
"So," he drawled, "Hawke, right?"
"Hey, don't get all judgemental on me! You forget that I also know about how you were all lovey-dovey for a certain Grey Warden I met back in Denerim…"
"I am certainly not judging," Zevran said, hands raised in defense, "It does seem like we both met two very extraordinary people, people we… grew fond of. Who would have thought these things could happen for people like us?"
Isabela stared at the bottom of her glass thoughtfully.
"My old captain once said to me that being a pirate would give me a life full of adventures, treasures, but above all, it would give me freedom. I thought it would be all I ever needed. But here, with Hawke, I get all of this…" she paused, searching for words, settling for a vague hand gesture, "all of this and something more, something… I never thought I could have; something I even didn't know I wanted." A small smile appeared on her lips, "It's… disconcerting, really… and quite extraordinary." She raised her head to look at Zevran, nudging his leg with the tip of her boot. "What about you?" she prodded, "Did you finally find what you were looking for in Ferelden?"
"Not at all," he said, thoughtful, "and yet… yes, exactly what I needed. As you said: adventures, treasures, freedom… and so much more."
Shaking her head with a soft laugh, Isabela raised her glass.
"If the two of us could find it, then it must really exist. To love."
Zevran smiled, raising his glass in turn.
"To love!"