Chapter 2: The Apostate's Queen

Isabela strode through Hightown like she owned the place.

Ascending the great staircase from Lowtown, the dark skinned beauty made an impression on every noble and merchant that she passed. The daughters of wealthy nobles regarded her generous figure with envy, while more than a few men, and even a few women, followed her with their eyes, the swell of her bosom, and the sway of her hips bringing looks of longing and desire to their faces.

That was okay, she was used to that.

The pirate queen was used to drawing attention to herself. She was beautiful of course; her dark skin marked her as a woman from the country of Rivain. She had a body that would be the envy of most goddesses at least that was what her old friend Zev used to say. Her hair was held in place by a blue silk bandanna which like the silk bodice she wore was a bit sooty and bedraggled, but that was to be expected from living near the foundries in Lowtown. Her gold necklaces, well -worn leather boots and daggers were polished to a mirror shine. The fine leather corset she wore had been a gift from Hawke a few months ago, purchased shortly after their first night together. Some might suggest that Hawke had been trying to buy her affections.

It would not have taken much coin for that. Isabela enjoyed the company of men, and even some women. She had been a traveler once, with a lover in every port she came to call.

Being with Hawke had changed that, or perhaps…perhaps she had simply changed.

She had been so many things once. Captain of the Siren's Call, the queen of the eastern seas, and the sharpest blade in Llomerryn, all these titles had been used to define her in the past.

Of course, now they all rang hollow, the Call was destroyed. She had been cut off from the eastern sea, and she had not set foot in Llomerryn for almost three years. For now, she was simply Isabela from the Hanged Man, that dark skinned woman that travelled with Garrett Hawke and his companions.

That was okay too, her friends brought her both gold and giggles, what more could she possibly want.

She hurried quickly from the market district, and approached the noble estates of Viscount's Way. A guardsman glanced at her as she passed by. There was a time that drawing the scrutiny of a guard would be trouble for someone like her. Fortunately, she was friends with the guard captain, or maybe they were simply colleagues on good terms, at least Aveline did not try to arrest her on a regular basis.

Isabela smirked; Hawke would have her back if she did of course. There were advantages to sharing a bed with one of the most influential young men in Hightown.

Hawke was different from her typical lovers, a Ferelden refugee who had fled the Blight almost four years ago. Hawke had made a name for himself on a deep roads expedition, bringing back enough treasure to set him and his family up for life.

Of course, that had all been necessary, as an apostate mage, Hawke lived in danger of being dragged off to the Circle of Magi by the Templars of the Chantry. His coin and his notoriety protected him from that fate, at least for now.

She would be lying if she said that she did not feel a twinge of concern for him from time to time.

She tried her best to ignore those feelings, Hawke was fun, and he was a tiger between the sheets, but she knew the risks of becoming too attached to someone.

Isabela was not the type of woman who liked to be tied down.

Though she and Hawke had used leather straps in their lovemaking on occasion, she thought with a guilty smile.

Hawke's home, known to the people of Hightown as the Amell estate, towered above her. Normally, she would have chosen to slip in through the servants' entrance but that was locked today for some reason.

Oh well, just have to use the front door then.

The pirate queen knocked loudly, hoping to get the attention of Bodahn, Hawke's dwarven manservant. When the door opened, she was met by a pretty young blonde elven girl in a maid's uniform.

"Greetings Mistress Isabela," the girl said with a small curtsey.

"Morning Orana," Isabela said striding into the foyer of the estate, "Is Hawke at home?"

"Master Garrett is upstairs," the girl answered, keeping her eyes to the floor, "I shall summon him if you desire?"

"That would be nice, thanks sweet thing," she grinned.

The elf bowed and hurried upstairs.

Isabela could not help but feel a little bit sorry for her. Hawke had rescued Orana from her cruel Tevinter mistress. He had decided to hire her on, at least until she got the hang of being a free woman. The poor elf still acted like a house slave though.

She supposed that it was for the best that Hawke had brought her here. The poor girl would likely have died out on the streets of Kirkwall.

Isabela glanced around the foyer. Everything was spotless, the chandelier was polished, the candles had been changed, and even the old rugs had been beaten out. The smell of soap was still thick in the air.

I doubt this is for me, Isabela grinned, looks like Hawke is going to be having company soon.

She walked quietly towards the great hearth, warm coals still burned within. Hawke's mabari war hound Rabbit snoozed near the fire.

The dog awoke as she approached. It sniffed the air and glanced her way.

Its mouth split into a big Mabari grin.

Rabbit rose and advanced towards her.

Isabela backed up.

"Easy Rabbit," she cautioned, but the dog still advanced, he barked as he bounced happily in place.

Though she did not mind dogs, she was leery of the big ones. Varric had one time not given Rabbit the space he deserved and ended up on his back covered in dog slobber.

Isabela intended not to share that fate.

Soon she found herself pinned up against the wall.

Rabbit barked happily, contented that he had her pinned.

"Try sniffing my crotch dog and I swear I'll stab you," she warned him.

The dog cocked his head, as if to say he would never do such a thing.

Isabela snorted, she doubted that.

Where in blazes was Hawke? She had no desire to have a hundred pound Mabari trying to hump her leg.

Usually a man needed to buy her dinner and drink before he got that privilege.

Fortunately, she did not have to wait long for him to come to her rescue.

Hawke came down the stairs, followed quickly by Orana. Despite her predicament, she could not help but smile. Hawke was dressed in his house clothes, a maroon colored jacket, with silken lounging pants; the soft fabric did nothing to hide that sinful body of his. Despite being a mage, Hawke was broad shouldered his arms and chest coated in thick muscle.

The sight took her breath away.

It did not take much for Isabela to imagine him naked, not that she had not seen that sight before of course.

Her body warmed slightly at the memory.

"Isabela," Hawke's rich deep voice drew the dogs attention, it barked in greeting, he found himself staring at the two of them. "You seem a bit…distracted."

Isabela rolled her eyes, Hawke and his bloody sense of humor!

"Don't suppose you could call of your friend Hawke?" Isabela asked; she tried to remain calm, if the dog knew that he had spooked her, she would never know a moments peace around him.

Hawke smiled sympathetically.

"Go with Orana, boy," he told Rabbit, "I'm sure she will get you a nice, fresh mabari crunch."

The dog perked up more at the mention of the treat; he barked and turned away from the pirate, falling in step behind the elven maid as she headed towards the kitchen.

Isabela sighed, happy to be out of slobber range.

Hawke grinned at her.

"Sorry about that," he said sheepishly, "I think he is still angry that he has to sleep off the bed these days."

Isabela smirked.

"You can always go back to sleeping alone," she suggested, "I'm sure Rabbit will be happy to have his space at the foot of the bed back again.

Hawke frowned.

I don't think that will be necessary," he replied, "I happen to enjoy your nightly visits," the apostate smirked, "The Rhineharts down the street have a lovely kennel with two female war hounds. I've been thinking of introducing Rabbit to them."

Isabela laughed, that would be an interesting conversation to have with Lord Rhinehart.

"Trying to get your dog laid now Hawke?" she snickered.

"Merely trying to get him to understand my needs," Hawke blushed slightly.

Isabela smiled, she was…familiar with Hawke's needs.

Of course that was not why she was here, at least…not the only reason.

"What's up with all the spit and polish?" she asked glancing around the room, "the Empress of Orlais coming for a visit or something?"

"Worse," Garrett said dryly, "My brother."

The pirate's eyes widened slightly.

"Carver is coming home," Isabela sounded surprised.

Not that Garrett blamed her, ever since the Grey Wardens had taken Carver in the deep roads it was uncertain if he would even see his family again.

Hawke was pleased that that was not the case.

"He is apparently on leave for the next two months; he wanted to return to see us, visit the estate and all."

Isabela noticed the hardness in Hawke's voice, he seemed, a little sad about this visit.

Something was clearly bothering him.

"You want me to make myself scarce for the next few days?" she offered. She was not sure if Hawke wanted anyone to know that they were…well she was not sure what to call what they were. She couldn't say that they were in a relationship exactly, she tried to avoid the R-word truth be told.

They shared common business interests, and a bed…and that was it.

At least, that is what she told herself.

"I rather you didn't," he sighed, "This visit is going to be hard enough as it is."

The pirate quirked her eyebrows, now what was this about?

Hawke turned away from her; he stood beside the hearth staring into the dying flames.

He seemed…well…he seemed a little lost.

"I take it you're not so happy about this little visit?"

"No, it…it is not that way at all," he said grimly, "I'm glad Carver's is alive and coming home, it…it is just…"

Hawke clenched his fists in frustration.

Now, Isabela was not typically known for her sensitivity, she avoided that kind of thing. Still….she could not shake the desire to draw out whatever was bothering him.

She really did not like this, what was happening to her, but she had no choice but to obey what she was feeling.

"You…you can talk to me Hawke," she said shifting her feet uncomfortably, "I'm…I'm here."

A hint of a smile played across the apostate's face, he…he needed to hear that.

"I can't help but wonder what he is going to say when he arrives," Garrett growled, "I know what he has said in his letters, but I can't help but wonder if he has only been writing what he thinks Mother needs to hear," Hawke sighed heavily.

"What if he still blames me? What if he thinks it was my fault that he got tainted in the deep roads?"

"He wanted to go Hawke," she reminded him, "How many times did he insist on going on that bloody expedition?"

"Too many to count," Garrett remembered; there was a time that Carver could not say two words without insisting on accompanying them.

That did not make it any easier to take however. Hawke had made the final choice. He let Carver go with them, and his little brother had paid the price.

He had to live with that now.

Isabela came up behind him; she wrapped her arms around his waist, resting her head against his neck.

"You can't change the past sweet thing,"" she purred, "Carver is alive, that is all you could hope for really. If he blames you…well…at least he is still alive to blame you, which means that he has the chance to forgive you one day."

Hawke saw her point; he hoped that Carver would see things that way to; he did not want Mother to see the two of them fighting over this.

She deserved to spend at least some quiet time with her two sons.

"Is your Mum here?" Isabela asked, "I was hoping to say hello."

Garrett chuckled; a few weeks ago he had come down to breakfast to find Isabela and Mother having a cup of tea together. At the time he could not decide if he should be pleased or frightened. Since then, the two women had developed a strange kind of rapport.

He probably should have been afraid of that.

"She is visiting Uncle Gamlen," Hawke replied, "Bodahn is at the market, buying supplies for dinner tonight."

Isabela smiled wickedly.

"So…let me get this straight," she purred her breath warm against the back of his neck, "Your Mum is gone, Bodahn is gone, and Orana is busy in the kitchen," the pirate slid her hand down the apostate's chest, a sly smirk on her face, "We have the house to ourselves then."

Hawke felt his body stir at her touch, he brought her fingers to his lips, and he playfully kissed the pads of them.

He felt her shiver against him.

"We do have house to ourselves," he said slyly, "Whatever shall we do?"

"You're a big strong man," she answered, her voice husky, "I'm guessing you have an idea or two."

He nodded, in point of fact, he did.

She slipped away from him, but did not go too far.

Hawke spun; he grabbed her, pulling her into his arms. The two kissed hungrily.

Isabela moaned, oh sweet Maker, he was so fast, so strong! How did he do that?!

She wrapped her long legs around his waist; he carried her upstairs like she weighed nothing. She nuzzled his neck, pulling off his maroon jacket, her fingers tracing lazy lines on his bare chest.

Hawke carried her into the master bedroom; he kicked the door shut behind them. He pulled at her clothes, undressing her quickly.

Isabela did her best to help, but desire had robbed her of much of her control.

She needed him, almost as much as he needed her.

The two fell into bed, giving into their desires, and lust.

The house would be very busy the next few days. It would be unlikely that the two of them would have any time alone.

He intended to the make the best of the time he had.

These few quiet moments together.

The calm before the storm.

IOI

They lay in bed together, sweaty and panting, nothing between them, not even a single sheet.

Isabela sighed contently as she snuggled deeper into his arms, a cat-like smile on her face. She felt drowsy; Hawke's slowing heartbeat soothed her, threatening to send her into a very deep sleep.

Nothing like a good afternoon tumble, she thought, a perfect way to break up the day.

Still they should not linger, Lady Leandra would likely be home soon.

"We should really get up Hawke," she murmured, stretching slightly.

"Why?" he purred.

"Because you have company coming," she reminded him, "I don't think you want them to catch us rutting do you?"

"I could think of worse things," he said kissing her forehead.

Isabela sighed, it seemed like she would have to be the strong one.

She crawled out of bed; the quest for her clothes had begun.

Never thought I would be the one to resist temptation she thought.

Hawke lay there watching her contentedly. Isabela was truly a beautiful woman, her dark skin and firm toned body.

Perfection.

She bent down to retriever her shorts.

Hawke grinned

"Nice ass," he said.

"So I hear," she chuckled.

"Sure you won't come back to bed?" he offered, "I think I can make it worth your while."

The pirate queen chuckled; she did not doubt that, and she would be lying if she said she was not tempted. Hawke had stamina to spare. He…

The windows above them shattered. Broken glass rained down on them.

Four dwarves leapt into the bedroom, blades at the ready!

Hawke flipped out of bed, just barely avoiding getting ran through. A jet of flame exploded from the apostate's hands, burning one of the dwarfs to death in seconds.

Sadly, he was not alone.

"Seize the Hawke," one of the dwarves growled, "Kill the whore!"

Isabela grabbed Hawke's desk chair, she brought it crashing against the skull of one of their attackers. The dwarf fell without a sound.

"Watch who you're calling a whore shorty," the pirate hissed.

The dwarves hesitated; this fight had turned from two to one, to one on one far too quickly.

Hawke and Isabela took full advantage of that pause.

"Isabela catch," he called out.

The mage gestured, the sheaths holding her blades leapt into the air. She caught them with ease. She drew heartbreaker and backstabber; it was time to get some killing done!

She kicked Hawke's staff to him, the apostate caught it. He blocked one of the dwarf's swords, and swept his legs out from underneath him. Hawke plunged the staff's sword end into the assassin's chest.

He died with a wet gurgle.

The last dwarf turned to face Isabela, the pirate dropped into a fighting crouch, her blades at the ready.

He blinked, frozen by the sight before him.

Isabela naked was most men, and some women, ideal of perfection.

The pirate's eyes narrowed.

"Hope you like the view," she purred.

Her hand lashed out with heartbreaker, slitting the dwarf's throat.

He gasped, blood sprayed into the hearth as he collapsed.

"Because it is the last thing you will ever see," she hissed angrily.

She quickly scanned the room for more threats, none materialized.

She looked for her lover.

"Are you all right?" Hawke called out.

She nodded, "Never better sweet thing."

He looked above them, a fifth dwarf was watching from the roof.

Hawke fired an arcane bolt at him, but the dwarf was too fast. He vanished from sight.

"Damn it!" he cursed under his breath.

The danger was passed, Hawke took moment take make sure that they were both fine. He reached out with his magic, making sure that Isabela was not injured. Despite the surprise attack they were both fine.

Sadly his bedroom had seen better days, the bed was covered with broken glass, his desk chair shattered, and the wall burned where he had thrown fire at the dwarven assassin.

The apostate gestured, a cold wind doused the flames.

"MASTER HAWKE! MASTER HAWKE!" HE heard Orana's frantic voice calling from the hall, "ARE YOU ALL RIGHT MASTER!"

Rabbit's frantic barking joined the girl's screams.

Hawke sighed.

"I…I'm fine Orana," the apostate called back, "Please send Rabbit to fetch a guardsman."

"O…Of…Of course M-Master." The elf replied; Hawke heard the sound of feet heading down the stairs.

He shook his head, thank the Maker Mother had not been here!

His lounging pants were a mess; one of the dwarf's had fallen on them, leaving them sticky with blood.

He pulled a new pair from his wardrobe.

He turned and saw Isabela was now almost fully dressed, her shorts and silk bodice once again in place.

She frowned at him.

"What was that about?" she asked.

"Don't know," he shrugged, "I'm going to find out." He glared down at the dead attackers. He liked to think his home was secure, he did not mind the dangers of Kirkwall, but the thought that someone would threaten his home, threaten the place where the people he loved lived and slept.

That thought filled him with rage.

Someone was going to pay for this.

"Sorry," he said to Isabela.

The pirate queen was actually grinning.

"So much for our afternoon nap," she chuckled, "One thing is certain Hawke; you certainly know how to show a girl a good time."

The apostate chuckled.

Trust Isabela to cheer him up after something like this.

Not that that would save those responsible, oh no.

Hawke's face turned grim.

They were going to be sorry they had ever been born!