Title: Womanly Wiles
Rating: K+
Summary: Hawke lusts after Isabela. Fenris/MaleHawke, mild Isabela/MaleHawke.
A/N: Thanks for reading. Review please.
Womanly Wiles
Isabela liked to tease.
Not only was it that she was beautiful and she knew it, but taming a man to her was like winning a prize—a beautiful, sweaty, tangled prize. Since she first laid eyes on Hawke, she'd wanted him. No, it wasn't ego that made Hawke say that. In dark street corners before Fenris, she'd told him. Her eyes were bright with excitement, cheeks flushed, large breasts thrust forward, soft lips so enticingly close. So many times she'd asked his permission, just to touch, to feel, and he'd denied her.
Hawke wasn't like her. He didn't fall in and out of intimacy so easily, and he knew that if he accepted her kiss, she'd have to accept his heart. Isabela wasn't capable of something like that. Intertwined bodies and loveless nights of pleasure were lovely in their simplicity. A night with him would mean complications, emotion, and something other than mindless lust. Isabela was a pirate; she was a jaded woman who never had a man treat her like anything other than a possession. To treat her as a queen—the way she deserved—would be too wonderful. To her, she didn't deserve that.
So when she was asking to spend the night, she wasn't asking for anything other than sex to take place. Hawke couldn't deny that he'd thought once or twice about exploring her, learning her scars the way he had Fenris's. Sometimes when she was soaking wet and glistening in the moonlight, her impeccable charm and charisma simply flowing from her, he wanted to map her dark skin with his mouth, to taste the salt of the sea in a woman because he did miss the gentle touch of someone who wasn't a savage when it came to sex.
When she had just had a bath and stood on the deck independently, a woman without fear, a man draped in delicate curves and beatific bones, he wanted to crush her black hair in his fingers and feel the press of her doughy physique against him. It stirred his passion some nights when he gazed at her. Only when she caught him did the interest fade from his eyes, and he raised his glass in a silent salute, pushing back his desire to engage her in conversation.
How intriguing to speak with someone who didn't argue so! Fenris bit and scratched not only with his nails and teeth but with his words. His wit was truly sharp, and he could become dangerously angry when he lost control. Isabela would turn anything into a lewd joke, a euphemism, or an innuendo. She'd put her hand on his arm and giggle delightfully; his anger would fade looking into deep brown, like sweet chocolate from Orlais melting on his tongue. Such bliss to smell her womanly perfume, to feel the pads of her fingers against his skin. She didn't grip too hard. No such intense emotion, just a playful tone.
Hawke became tired of their conversations. He grew weary at times of his playful façade, of his eternal defensive wall that must be in place to speak with Fenris. With Isabela, it was easy. She would accept anything he said to her. Debauchery was human nature, she understood. Fenris agonized for days over decisions. He didn't know how to be humane, and he struggled with it. Isabela recognized flaws for what they were and could fix anything with a bottle of good wine and an Antivan message.
Fenris thought nothing of it when Hawke put his arms around the pirate's waist and breathed deep the scent of her skin and hair. He didn't become jealous when she whispered such scandalous things in his ears, things that would make a courtesan blush. If her hand happened to rest casually on his thigh during a card game, Fenris ignored it and smiled and laughed as if she weren't trying to seduce the one man he claimed to love. As if Hawke wasn't tempted to surrender to her golden flesh and honeyed voice.
But Fenris was right to be confidant in their love, because Hawke would never stray. The cuts and bruises stung in the morning, and the heat of their arguments became terribly tedious at times. He wanted to throw his arms up and be done with it every few weeks. Yet Fenris was more than just struggle and pain. Inside him Hawke had placed his complete trust. Love like he had never felt before burned brightly for a man who didn't know how to care for anyone. Their coupling was violent and intense, but it was what Hawke loved. That controlled temper and shaking muscles aroused him in ways Isabela's deft hands could never manage. Fenris's deep voice could cause tremors in him Isabela's tinny soprano could never dream of.
Fenris was awkward when it came to romance. He understood the basic concepts of courtship but had no idea how to employ them. Hawke found it adorable; he also found it preferable. He liked taking the lead in any romantic entanglement, and Fenris effortlessly allowed him to do just that. With Fenris, challenge was presented to him every day. Though he occasionally became weary of it, he loved it even so. Challenge was what he lived for. To conquer and win was in his bloodstream, and Fenris put up a fight.
More than that, Fenris was the man he wanted to be with the rest of his life. Too much had happened to separate them. Too much had been sacrificed to make their relationship work. They were cemented together for life. In short, Hawke cared for him far too deeply for a quick romp with Isabela. He would never dash what they had for another's company, not even the pirate's.
So Isabela liked to tease, to tempt, but she would never win him over because unlike Fenris, she didn't want his heart.
Reuploaded as a separate story. Not relevant to Underground, I decided. Thanks for reading. Review please.