The factory shift went on longer than Hawke expected, her arms aching from having them over her head, inspecting the bombs as they passed over her.
On the bus home, she cracked open Varric's book, which was full of tales of a feisty heroine who seemed to manage to either defeat or have sex with every other character in the book. It made her laugh a few times until she hid it in her purse as she got off at the bus stop.
She walked the blocks until she got to her apartment complex; climbing up the fire escape until the fifth floor where she cracked open the window she kept unlocked and slipped inside. Everyone except Leandra would be gone, but she tried to keep out of her mother's way these days.
She snuck into her bedroom that she shared with Aveline and Bethany. Their rather small bed was cramped beside the wall, but it felt comforting to her with her mild hangover and her sore arms. She had only slept about four hours when she felt Bethany shaking her shoulders.
Hawke reached up to smack her sister away, but eventually the woman got her awake. Bethany was still dressed in her work clothes, her stylish pink sheath dress with matching high heels, her hair swept back and her eyes lined with black.
"What's wrong, Bethany?" Hawke yawned, "I still have an hour until school starts. You know you're not supposed to wake me until then."
"It's not that," Bethany said, plopping down beside her sister on the bed. Hawke felt sheepish in her overalls and plaid shirt compared to her sister and she tried to fix her hair, which had begun to frizz in the humidity.
"I want you to come to a knitting bee tonight."
"Say what?" Hawke said, rubbing her eyes.
"There's a new Women's Auxiliary group down the street," Bethany said smiling, "They're making socks for the poor. Benjamin said it's a wonderful occupation for single women and married ones too. Oh it would be so much fun, but I'm scared to go all by myself. I want them all to like me. I'll feel so much braver if you're there."
"You woke me up for socks?" Hawke asked in disbelief, "Socks?"
"Well mother wants to go too, but she thought it would be good for you to come along. You work so much, you should come have fun."
"Socks isn't my idea of fun," Hawke replied, "Are you sure you just don't want to do this to impress Benjamin? You're his secretary. He already pays you. What more do you want from him?"
Bethany frowned, "You can be really dense, you know that?"
She stood up and stomped out of the room and Hawke fell back asleep for a moment until her mother came in and dropped a wet towel on her face. Hawke sat up, spitting the towel off her face and looked at her mother in confusion.
"Bethany would like us to go to the Women's Auxiliary tonight," Leandra said with an impatient smile, "I think you can take one night off of class to make your sister happy."
Hawke pursed her lips but she knew she wasn't going to win. She didn't have a job tonight, and she was looking forward to getting some much-needed sleep. Tonight did not seem to be that night.
"Fine," Hawke muttered, wiping her face clean, "Let me change at least."
"You have that lovely A-line skirt," Leandra said, "Why don't you wear that with one of Bethany's blouses?"
"I didn't realize we were out to impress," Hawke replied, walking towards the small closet the three shared to pick out the skirt her mother meant.
"You forget we were once nobility," Leandra said huffily, "We can still act like ladies."
Hawke rolled her eyes, "Of course, mother."
She thought of Varric's drawing of her and grinned a little.
oOoOoOo
The Women's Auxiliary was being held in one of the homes closest to the Chantry. An elderly woman with too much coin was bringing in those who seemed desirable enough to do charity work. Bethany knew a few of the women from work, performing impossibly quick air kisses, while Hawke kept sticking her hand out waiting for someone to shake it. After awhile, she gave up and found a nice corner to hide in while she did her knitting. She made a few polite smiles when talked to, but mainly it was Leandra and Bethany who were social, making dates for teas and dinners they couldn't possibly afford.
In the quiet din of the room, Hawke felt herself falling asleep, wishing she had knitted faster so her square would have been big enough for a blanket.
She woke suddenly when all voices dropped in the room and she could hear the click of high heels.
A beautiful woman with flawless dark skin and curves that seemed to defy gravity walked into the room, a red satin evening gown flowing to the ground, her beautiful dark hair curling down to nearly her waist.
Hawke caught her breath, thinking that this must be the most beautiful woman in the world.
"Evening ladies," the woman said, smiling with impossibly white teeth, "Is there any more room for another charitable woman?"
The stern host buttoned up her own sweater as she walked over to face her, "I don't think your…services are wanted here tonight, Isabela."
"Oh?" Isabela laughed, "They tell me I'm good with my hands, I'm sure I can figure out how to tie a few knots," when the host blushed, Isabela shook her head deviously, "When I was a ship hand, dearie, I don't know what filth your mind gets up to in there."
Leandra sensed an opportunity and walked up to face Isabela, "Now, this is an evening for the ladies of Kirkwall. If you aren't going to behave like a proper lady-"
"A proper lady?" Isabela smiled, "And what would that be? A dowdy housewife? Someone nice and quiet? Perhaps someone with lighter skin than mine?"
Leandra blushed and Isabela saw Hawke in the corner, beaming at her.
"You, kitten," she said, nodding towards Hawke, "You don't seem like a proper lady either. Perhaps you want to get out of here?"
Hawke's heart skipped a beat as she picked up her jacket, "Gladly."
Hawke passed Leandra as she walked to Isabela's side.
"You are a pretty thing, aren't you?" Isabela smiled, holding Hawke's chin as if appraising an artifact.
"Marian," Leandra hissed, "This woman is a…street walker! A lady of the night."
"Sounds like fun," Hawke said, trying to look more confident than she felt as Isabela took her hand and they walked out of the mansion.
Hawke burst out laughing as they got outside, and Isabela smiled at her.
"Marian?" She asked, as if testing out the name.
"Hawke," She corrected with a smile, sticking out her hand.
Isabela shook, grinning, "Good. That suits you much better, sweet thing. Now, I know a lovely bar around the corner. I have a room there…oh not like that, unless you like, of course. Off the clock even."
Hawke felt herself blush, "Oh…you actually are…"
"Yes," Isabela smirked, "Come now, we were making such progress. You can say what I am. Any word. Hooker. Whore. I've heard them all. It's all right."
"It's not that it's a bad thing," Hawke tried to explain, "Really. I just didn't go out with you for that. I'm sorry if I-sorry, I'm sounding like a real ass."
"You're doing fine, Hawke," she said, taking her hand and leading her down the street, "You're taking your first steps into a larger world."
"Hey," Hawke protested, "I'm not completely sheltered."
"I didn't think you were," Isabela smiled, "That's why I thought you needed to be rescued. I can't stand those old biddies. I love scaring them shitless. There's much more interesting women to talk to in the city."
"Like who?"
Isabela smiled as they neared a set of stairs leading into Lowtown, "Do you trust me?"
"I get the sense I shouldn't," Hawke laughed, "But I can take care of myself, do your worst."
The two women went down the stairs and Hawke found herself in a neighbourhood she had never seen before. The walls were painted bright colours, seemingly often, as if the salty water air peeled it away. It was busy, despite the night, and oddly it seemed safe.
Isabela held her hand as they walked past the shops and Hawke felt her mouth grow a gap. There were things she was told existed in the bad part of town, but she had never thought she would see them. Nude mannequins hung in the windows, their only clothing thin lingerie for all sexes. Another promised "adult" reading materials, another a cinema with merely "XXX" across the marque.
There were other businesses as well, bars and pubs and inns. Restaurants. She could even hear the music from what seemed like a dance hall down the way. And apartment buildings everywhere! It was as if every one wanted a piece of this tiny place, this little three blocks in the middle of a dark city.
Seeing Hawke's wide eyes, Isabela smiled, "This is Chantry Street. Its just a little place carved out of big mean Kirkwall. What do you think?"
"Its…its oddly wonderful," Hawke admitted with a smile.
"Come on, there's the bar I live above. Why don't you come upstairs and we can talk? Maybe we can go grab a drink…but you look rather tired."
"I am," Hawke admitted, "It's been…an interesting day to say the least."
"Well," Isabela smiled seductively, "Come tell me about it."
oOoOoOo
They talked most of the night. Isabela's place was lush and lavish, which she admitted she did in theory because of her clients, but she loved having beautiful things around her.
Isabela did not share much of her self that night, instead listening to Hawke, massaging her strained calves and feet. It was growing too late and Hawke was falling asleep. Isabela offered for her to stay, smiling as she explained she had one bedroom for clients and another for her own use. She liked to keep work and pleasure separate.
Hawke had felt greatly comfortable with Isabela. She had never met a woman who was interested in other women before, but she felt safe with her. She was another misfit in this city, someone who carved out their own life. She admired Isabela and hoped they could grow to be friends.
Isabela and Hawke spent that night together, sleeping beside each other in her bed. When she woke up beside Isabela, Hawke smiled to herself. This was still new to her, but perhaps waking up beside such a gorgeous woman every day was not an unpleasant thing.
