A/N: I changed the title to something less misleading. The previous one rather implied a humorous style whereas it has turned out quite the opposite.
The original plan had all of Act II into one chapter, but it has turned out far longer than expected, because Isabela is just so significant in Act II.
Chapter 2: Graffiti on the Banister
The trip down the Deep Roads was nothing short of an unmitigated disaster as far as Hawke was concerned. She should never have brought Bethany along. It was lucky that Anders was there to lead them to the wardens, but her sister's fate remained unknown for months. Sure, there was profit, but if she could trade it all to have Bethany back, then she would have.
So many scenarios played through her head. All the "what-if" and "if-only" situations repeated themselves to her, and every one of them chipped at her heart. She should've brought along more people. Merrill, or Fenris would've been useful in the Deep Roads, but the truth was that she didn't. Bartrand was a cheap bastard and wanted as light of a crew as possible. They only had enough supplies for Hawke, Bethany and one other.
At the time, Anders was the most obvious choice. He had experience in the Deep Roads and battling darkspawn. He was a warden after all. Of course, maybe Hawke didn't even need to bring Bethany. She could've stayed home with their mother.
Then there was Mother to consider. Her face upon Hawke's return was absolutely heartbreaking. For weeks, the woman could barely look at her oldest daughter. In her mind, Leandra knew that there was nothing Hawke could have done, but her heart blamed her. It was a horrible feeling. If only Hawke listened when Leandra begged to have Bethany stay. None of it would have happened. She would never have fallen to the corruption.
The least Hawke could do now was to get her the Amell estate. It wouldn't make up for losing Bethany, but it was something. Moving-in felt empty. Leandra slowly adjusted to the thought that her youngest daughter was no longer around. With time, she was able to forgive Hawke for taking Bethany along. Leandra knew that the girl wanted to go, and there was little her eldest child could do to change her mind.
Her mother's forgiveness was comforting, but Hawke couldn't forgive herself. Nightmares of the Deep Roads haunted her sleep. Her sister's corrupted body would appear and cry out for Hawke to save her. The warrior would desperately scramble towards her dying sister, but the harder she tried the further away Bethany would be.
After a while, she just gave up on sleeping. Most nights, Hawke stayed up as long as possible, reading whatever books were available on her shelves, or alphabetizing her library. Often she'd drink herself into a stupor, if only to avoid the nightmares that came with sleep.
She avoided her companions for those first few weeks. They all stopped by with they're sincerest condolences for the loss of her sister. Even Fenris offered to talk, if she ever needed. However, Hawke was bent on staying alone. It got to the point where she found herself just lying on the bed, staring at the canopy for hours on end.
Leandra knew it had to stop. One day, she grabbed the warrior's clothes, and threw it on her daughter. "Get up," she ordered with the authority befitting her noble heritage. "It's been weeks, and my daughter is not going to lie around, waiting to die." She drew back the curtains to let the light flood in. "You are getting dressed and going outside today."
Hawke rolled over to hide her face. "I don't want to."
"Too bad," said the older woman. Leandra grabbed the young woman's ear and literally dragged her out of the bed.
Hawke howled in pain as her mother pulled her to a prepared bath. The warrior grumbled discontentedly as she was forced to strip and jump in.
"Wash up, and make yourself presentable." She ordered.
The disgruntled daughter unhappily scrubbed her arm. "Where am I going anyway?"
"You're friend Isabela left a book here last time she visited. You're going to give it back to her." Her mother grabbed the washcloth and began roughly scrubbing her back.
Cleaned up and properly dressed, Hawke plodded out into Hightown prepared to meet Isabela in the Hanged Man. For the first time in a long time, she saw the sky. It could have been beautiful, if it were not for the mass of gray clouds. She trudged through the snow, grumbling about her unreasonable mother. Leandra could have chosen a better day to send her out on an unnecessary errand.
Finally making it to the Lowtown tavern, Hawke brushed off white crystals from her clothes as she entered. It began snowing while she was walking over, so now she was cold. The warrior spotted Isabela rolling her eyes as another patron tried to woo her. "Isabela," she called out while waving the pirate's book.
Seizing the opportunity to escape, Isabela quickly excused herself to escape the drunken man and his dreadful poems. "Hawke," she greeted. "It's nice to see you out and about."
"Ah, well," said Hawke, "Mother made me come to return this to you." She handed over the book.
Isabela raised an eyebrow in curiosity as she studied the cover. "That's very kind of you, but this isn't mine."
"What are you talking about?" Hawke grabbed the text back and stared at it. Did she grab the wrong book? It didn't look like one from her library.
"Come now, Hawke," said Isabela, "When have you ever seen me read about anything besides sex?"
"Keeping the Line: The Principles of Law Making," she read aloud. This definitely belonged to Aveline, but why would Mother send her to return it to Isabela? Shaking her head, Hawke decided not to dwell on the mystery. "Andraste's ass," she cursed, because now she left the house for nothing. The warrior sat down and gestured for the pirate to do the same. She was still cold and could use a stiff drink.
"So, how have you been?" asked Isabela as she slid into the seat.
Hawke shrugged, not really wanting to discuss her feelings. She stared at the bottom of the tankard, while thinking of Bethany.
Unwilling to let the mood darken further, Isabela put her hand on Hawke's thigh. "I take it you're still here for more than just drinks."
The warrior looked down at the hand, seriously debating the offer. Was she ready to go along with Isabela, or should she sit here and sulk more? "Isabela, I'm not-"
Irritated, the pirate grabbed Hawke's hand and got up. "Come on." She dragged the warrior out of her seat.
"But," the former refugee weakly protested. She was unsure. Part of her wanted to go with Isabela, but part of her felt guilty for having the choice.
Regardless, Isabela managed to pull the warrior into her room. Gently, she pushed Hawke back until the woman was trapped on the bed under the pirate. "Just relax," ordered Isabela as she slowly kissed the warrior's neck. It was strange; the Rivaini was somehow softer that day. Their previous encounters were mostly rough groping and sometimes scratching if one of them was in the mood, but this was different. It was gentle, almost like a lover's embrace.
Not wanting to fight anymore, Hawke wrapped her arm around the pirate and caught her lips in a deep kiss. No power in Thedas could undo the past. Here in Isabela's arms, she could forget about Bethany. Kissing those lips allowed her to let go of Leandra's broken cry of despair when she heard that her youngest daughter would not return home. Touching those arms drew her mind away from the haunting nightmares. This was what Hawke needed.
In the morning, the warrior strapped on her boots. "Thank you," she said. The night turned out pleasantly well. Tenderness was not Isabela's style, but what she did was particularly nice, and Hawke appreciated the effort.
The pirate leaned forward with an unusually serious expression. "I'm sorry about Bethany."
"I know," replied Hawke. "Thanks Isabela." She finished dressing and walked out. For the first time in months, she felt ready to face the world again.
Three more months passed before they heard that Bethany survived the joining. The youngest Hawke sister sent their mother a letter, informing the woman of her well being and new life. There was no message to her older sister, however. Hawke got the feeling that Bethany resented her for walking away freely.
Leandra comforted her eldest daughter. Bethany would forgive Hawke in time. Until then, the mother was satisfied knowing that the young mage was alive. Now, she was preoccupied with reintegrating their family to the upper echelons of Kirkwall.
Their sudden move to Hightown sparked a curious audience. However, the nobles were wary of the return of the Amells. It helped the transition that they were not really of new blood, though the family name was now Hawke. Leandra was able to entertain the few callers they had while her daughter wallowed in self-pity, but as time wore on, the other nobles had grown impatient with the absent adventurer.
Finally, the Rosencrans insisted on their presence at a dinner party. In the past, the two families were close, and occasionally intermarried. Now that Hawke had begun showing her face at some of the social events, she had to go to this party. Leandra was apparently childhood friends with Lady Rosecrans, and it was apparently rude to refuse the Lady's invitation.
Hawke and her mother sat in the dining hall with the Rosencrans across the table. They were served a number of delicacies while Leandra chatted with the two older nobles. This left Hawke to converse with their son, who happened to be about the same age.
Torvel Rosencrans was a good-looking man of moderate skill. He kept a job as a public administrator for the city. While important, it was hardly a noteworthy profession. "I'm told you restored the family fortune by venturing into the Deep Roads," he said.
Hawke nodded her head. "Yes," she replied tersely. The cost of that fortune was great, and while she hated discussing the topic, it was unwise to act crudely toward her host.
"It must have been quite the adventure." Torvel looked a little nervous. He was, of course, somewhat intimidated by the woman who supposedly killed a thousand darkspawn, if the tales could be trusted, and seven rock wraiths while venturing through the darkened pits of the forgotten Dwarven Thaigs.
The warrior forced a smile to appear, though she was growing irritated with his chosen topic. She couldn't blame him though. The Amell's return thanks to a journey into the Deep Roads was the most significant news in Hightown since the Viscount's son safely returned from his kidnapping. Unfortunately, no other significantly juicy gossip has since turned up. "It was," she said. "Though, it is an experience that I would not like to repeat."
"I see," he replied, taking the subtle hint to drop the subject. "Well then," he said in another attempt at small talk. "What do you do for fun?"
Hawke took a sip of wine, and relaxed a bit. "Not much," she said, "I read sometimes." She didn't mention that much of her time was spent adventuring with her companions across the city, though she was sure that it was no secret thanks to Varric's wildly exaggerated tales.
He laughed, clearly thinking she was joking, and perhaps she was to an extent. "Is that so? What do you read then?"
"Mostly historical texts and theories," the warrior nonchalantly replied. "Sometimes, I get a few myths as well."
"Such as?" asked Torvel, who was now genuinely curious as to what could catch the attention of such a riveting adventurer.
Amused by the unrepentant curiosity on his face, Hawke replied, "I've read two of the four volumes on the history of the Chantry by a Brother Genetivi. I've also found a few interesting manuscripts with theories on the ancient history of Kirkwall."
"Fascinating," he nearly screamed. "I shall have to look into those books myself."
They spent the rest of the evening discussing various books and stories the two had read. Torvel had an interest in sea-faring adventure novels, which tempted Hawke to recommend a few from Isabela's collection. Fortunately, she did not.
Leandra seemed somewhat vexed by the time they returned home. Her daughter, however, was unable to figure out why, until the older woman finally confronted her about the night. "How did you like Torvel?"
Hawke shrugged. She could not see how he was significant. The man did not talk to her mother that much, and could not possibly have offended her without Hawke knowing. "He is alright."
Finally, Leandra relented to share her thoughts. "Lady Rosencrans would like to arrange for a marriage between the two of you."
Shocked, Hawke asked, "What did you say?"
"I told her I wasn't sure if that was wise." The elder woman stated.
Though grateful, the warrior was curious to what prompted that response. Her mother had expressed the wish to find her a husband before. "Why?"
Leandra sighed. "I don't want you to marry someone you don't really love. I'm sure young Torvel is pleasant enough, but whether or not you truly love him is something else." She sat down on a chair beside the fire, and beckoned for her daughter to do the same. "And, I know there is someone else you're interested in?"
The warrior swore she saw a light sparkle in her mother's eyes at that moment. Nervously, she fidgeted with the evening dress she wore. "I, umm…" There wasn't anything to say. She hardly considered the pirate as a potential spouse of any sort. It was practically impossible to imagine. "Not really," she said, more for herself than for her mother.
"Oh, but I was under the impression that Isabela meant quite a bit to you." Leandra wore an amused smile on her face as she calmly stared at her daughter for a response.
Hawke nearly choked at her mother's words. The warrior nervously laughed as she decided that staring at the floor would bring her less humiliation than meeting the older woman's eyes. "Who told you?"
"No one really," she replied. "Do you think me so senile that I do not notice the comings and goings of my own daughter? You went to the Hanged Man quite often in the dead of the night while we lived with Gamlen." Leandra absently brushed off some lint from her dress as she continued to explain. "It wasn't until Aveline asked me to have you return a book to Isabela that I understood. You did not come back until the morning."
"Isabela and I aren't like that," said Hawke, desperately hoping that her mother would understand. "We're not – I mean," she paused. What could she say that would truly explain their relationship without being too blunt? "It's complicated," she finally said.
Leandra accepted the words with a smile on her face as she slowly lifted her daughter's chin so their eyes would meet. "Love always is, dear. You'll work it out in time." With that, the conversation ended. Both women got up to retire to their rooms. However, before they left the lounge, the older woman chuckled at one of her personal thoughts.
Curious, Hawke asked, "What is it?"
The woman looked fondly at her daughter. "I do suppose that I should not hold out for grandchildren then?"
"Mother!" screamed the warrior. If it were anyone else, Hawke would have laughed, but this was her mother, a sweet old woman who liked to tease her children far too much.
Truthfully, Leandra was unsure if the Rivaini was best for Hawke's interest. Isabela made no effort to hide her personal tendencies and exploits, even around the old woman. She could never offer the young woman the stability a proper man could. However, despite all that, the pirate was the only one who could draw Hawke out of her shell while she isolated herself in misery. For that reason, the mother knew Isabela was more important to her daughter than the young woman realized herself.
She had no wish to force a husband upon her daughter. Maker knew she didn't react too well to that situation herself. Hawke would marry if it would please her mother, but she would not be happy, and happiness was exactly what the woman wanted for her child. If Isabela could make her daughter happy, then Leandra would voice no objections.
Three years after the Deep Roads expedition, things in Kirkwall began to change. The Viscount desperately tried to balance the different powers influencing the city, while his office was the only thing keeping everything in place. Anyone could tell that his tentative juggling of the volatile forces was only a temporary solution at best, and now everything was beginning to unravel around him.
Hawke was genuinely surprised that none of her companions had left Kirkwall within those three years. Each of them stayed in their own way, even Isabela did not leave for more than a couple of weeks. The woman did drag Hawke along whenever she found a clue on that relic of hers. Most times, it ended up in an embarrassing failure. Sometimes it turned out far more dangerous than originally thought. The warrior reflected on being poisoned by a giant spider. Since Hawke was the only one of their small band of friends that participated for that particular trip, Isabela was forced to treat her.
She was stuck in bed for two weeks after that. The pirate visited occasionally, though she was often met with a stern glare from Leandra, who was seemed somewhat angry at the fact that Isabela nearly killed her daughter on some fool's trip. The rogue managed to brush off the anger. She did feel somewhat guilty for leading them into a potential death trap with no warning. To make up for it, she wrote a note and left it at Hawke's bedside. That had to be worth something.
All the warrior got from the experience was, "Sorry. I was expecting treasure, not spiders. Get well soon. Love, Isabela." Hawke sighed. Why did she let the Isabela drag her into those things anyway?
Refusing to dwell on the subject, Hawke got dressed for her meeting with the Viscount. The tensions in the city were nearing a breaking point, and Hawke had a reputation for solving difficult situations. The warrior was unsure of how she could help. Her solutions usually ended with new blood stains on her armor, most of which had Bodahn complaining about how difficult it was to clean.
She continued on anyway, only to be informed that the Arishok wanted to speak with her. The Viscount was suspicious, but had little choice. The Qunari had been on their docks for far too long, yet they did not have the resources to expel the foreigners. As long as everything bore the semblance of peace, the Viscount could do nothing.
Hawke felt curious. Her last visit with the Arishok was not pleasant to say the least. At least he only expressed his displeasure through words over actions. She did not want to end up on the wrong end of his sword. The massive creature could probably rip her head off with his bare hands.
His request for an audience was unusual. The warrior supposed he had some sort of respect for her for successfully killing most of the Tal-Vashoth along the Wounded Coast. Still, Hawke was wary, so enlisted the help of whoever seemed available. The Qunari seemed to like Fenris last time, and Aveline had the guard behind her. Isabela blatantly refused to help Hawke out. It made her feel a little resentful, seeing as how she often went out of her way to aid the Rivaini for other things. Though disappointed, at least two people chose to accompany her into the compound.
The soldiers there stood stoically while their leader explained that he merely requested a meeting only as a courtesy to one who proved herself worthy. It wasn't his problem that some thief stole a deadly poison, because he would not die from it. In his opinion, the city was already well on its path to destruction. The saar-qumek would only speed the inevitable.
Cursing, Hawke led her group out as fast as possible. Aveline quickly ran off to give orders to the guardsmen in preparation for the worst. The two remaining warriors headed out to search for Javaris.
It took the whole day and went well into the night, but they managed to stop the poison from spreading too much. Sadly, a part of Lowtown was affected before anyone could stop the crazy elf woman, who stole the formula, but at least the majority of Kirkwall remained unaffected.
Hawke went home completely exhausted and more than ready to sleep. She walked into the house only to find Isabela carving something into the banister. "What are you doing?"
"Making this place more interesting," she nonchalantly replied. Quickly putting away her knife, she turned to face the home's owner with a sultry smile.
Ignoring the blatant look of lust, Hawke moved to inspect Isabela's work. "Is that...?" The warrior glared at the pirate. "Who carves that into a stairwell?"
Isabela shrugged as if it didn't matter. "I just did." She flashed the warrior yet another mischievous smile.
Too tired to argue, Hawke just closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration. Deciding to move on, she said, "What are you doing here anyway?"
"I thought it was obvious. I'm here for sex." The Rivaini woman seductively leaned towards her companion just barely stopping before they could touch. Her warm breath tickled the warrior's skin as amber eyes locked with Hawke's own.
While tempting, Hawke truly was tired. "How do you even have the energy? We've been fighting for hours." Isabela had rejoined them after the warriors left the Qunari compound and continued to help until they finished dealing with the elf. It was a miracle that all of them survived with few injuries.
"I'm always up for sex." The pirate circled around Hawke like a predator, and slowly drew her hand across the warrior's abdomen. "Will I get some tonight, or will I have to go all the way to the Blooming Rose?" she whispered into the warrior's ear.
The touch made Hawke shiver as desire erupted in the pit of her stomach. "No!" She grabbed Isabela's arm, refusing to let her walk out. No one else would have the pirate tonight. It didn't occur to her at the time, but this was the first time the warrior had ever truly wanted Isabela to herself. The thought of the Rivaini at the Rose raised a sense of possessiveness in her; one she knew would be unwelcome should the other woman ever find out.
The rogue looked pleased at how Hawke pinned her down on the bed. Exhaustion forgotten, the warrior ravished her like a bitch in heat. For once, Isabela didn't insist on being on top. She seemed to be satisfied with riding the waves of pleasure, before collapsing with a cry of ecstasy. Finally, Hawke's body could take no more, and sleep quickly followed the night's final excursion.
By the time Hawke woke up, Isabela was gone. It was better that way. She reflected on the previous evening. What in Andraste's name possessed her to act so foolishly? She never had a problem with Isabela going to the Blooming Rose before, nor was she under any illusion that their relationship was anything more. The warrior cursed at herself. It had to be that damnable Qunari poison, or her exhaustion. Nothing else could explain her erratic behavior.
Dismissing her thoughts, she quickly got dressed to meet with the Viscount. He would undoubtedly want to know why part of Lowtown was now sealed off.
The meeting went moderately well; if by well, one meant that the Viscount wanted another favor. Hawke's rapport with the Qunari seemed to make him think that she should be the one who could figure out where his missing representatives went. Of course, the warrior had a sneaking suspicion that only a certain Chantry sister would even desire to kidnap the giant grey men. Immediately, she went to Aveline after talking with the seneschal. The guard captain would most easily have authority over her supposedly corrupt men.
The pair found their way to the Hanged Man where a guardsman was flaunting his newly acquired coin, an amount far more than his salary permitted. Isabela was already there lounging by the bar with a distant look in her eyes. Concerned, Hawke walked over the pirate while indicating to Aveline that she could do what she wanted with her guardsman.
"Hey, what's with that look?" The warrior could swear that tears could burst forth from amber eyes at any moment.
The pirate shook her head in an effort to recompose herself. "Nothing, I'm fine." She took a gulp of her drink. "What brings you down here?" she asked in an effort to change the subject.
Hawke pointed at Aveline as the redheaded warrior stared down a pathetic excuse of a man. "Trouble with a guardsman," she replied. "He wasn't doing his job, and took a bribe to turn his head while guarding the Qunari." The warrior shrugged as she watched her friend roughly grab the man's collar. With the look the guard captain wore, it wouldn't be surprising if the poor sod pissed his pants.
Suddenly, Hawke recalled that she still had that little trinket she found in the tunnels while chasing after Javaris. Quickly, she searched her pack, hoping the glass didn't break during their fighting the previous night. "Ah," she declared proudly as she produced a small ship in a bottle. "I have something for you."
Isabela raised an eyebrow in curiosity. The forlorn expression was soon replaced by the excitement in her eyes. "Ooh, What this?" She held up the bottle to observe it under better light. "Oh, isn't that just the cutest thing?"
"You can't see, but below deck there is a perfect replica of you with a dozen sailors in attendance." Hawke smiled as she leaned against the bar. There was just something about seeing the pirate happy that made her feel good.
Isabela laughed. "You tease. I'm sure there isn't. It is a worthy goal to work towards, however." She smiled as she looked down at the bottle. "Thank you, Hawke. This was a thoughtful gesture."
They stared at each other for a little bit before Aveline interrupted with a cough. "If you're done flirting, we still have work to do."
Sighing, the warrior relented. "You want to come along?" she offered.
Isabela nodded, she had nothing better to do. Drinking alone just made her depressed. Sulking about her lost ship was not doing any good. It was worse than sex with a hopeless romantic. Though, at least the ale didn't want to cuddle.
Mother Petrice was a bitch in Isabela's opinion. Her absolute obsession with the so-called Qunari threat was driving the companions mad. Aveline was less than pleased to hear that even the Chantry Mother could not control the wilder elements of her deranged faction. Sebastian was simply appalled.
By the time they reached the rogue templar, he had amassed a number of fanatics and was preaching about taking arms against the heathen Qunari. The delegates were bound and gagged with chains while cuts and bruises lined their bodies as clear evidence of torture.
It was too late to save them, however. Hawke's arrival prompted Ser Varnell kill his prisoners. A fight ensued, and soon enough, the bodies of all the radicals were on the ground, including Ser Varnell's. The Viscount and his guards arrived just in time to count the dead.
When the Viscount asked what he should do, Hawke replied, "Don't bother to hide the torture. The Arishok will know anyway." There was little point in putting in the extra effort. He concurred, but asked her to inform the Arishok in turn. Hawke hated playing the messenger. Though, to her surprise, the Arishok expressed his respect for her. The truth, it seemed, meant a great deal to him.
Leandra greeted her daughter upon Hawke's return. She looked a little cross. "I've been worried sick about you. I haven't seen you since the night before last, and thought you fell to that awful poison that spread in Lowtown."
The warrior groaned. "I'm fine mother. I've been busy with the Viscount's problems."
"I see," the woman accepted. "One more thing," she said, "Why is there a vulgar carving on the stairwell?"
Hawke nervously laughed. "Ah, you see, umm…" she said. Her hand awkwardly reached up to scratch her head as she searched for a good answer.
"Does Isabela have anything to do with it?" asked the experienced mother. Leandra knew from Hawke's face that she was desperately trying to think of a lie. The girl never could deceive her. A mother always knew.
The warrior tentatively smiled, hoping her expression would lighten her mother's mood. "Yes?" she replied.
"Maker's breath, Isabela," Leandra commented to herself. "Why does she need to deface the furniture?" She turned to her daughter. "Make sure she doesn't do it again."
"I've already talked to her about it." Hawke had no idea why her mother let it go so easily. If it were Hawke, Bethany or even Carver that carved the little figure into the banister, Leandra would've scolded them for an hour before forcing them to do some horrible chore for the next month. Even as adults, she would never let them get away with anything. Why was the pirate so special?
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