Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age or any of its characters. This story is purely for entertainment purposes and I do not stand to profit from it.

A/N: Sorry for the delayed update. I'm having my exams and so it will be difficult for me to update till mid-April when I promise you that I will put my sweat and grind into this story. Anyway, enjoy. This chapter doesn't contain everything that was promised in the last. Sorry for that. But it will definitely be in the next chapter

Chapter 3: Reminiscences

Gamlen Amell's house:

"You're sure about this Carver?"

"Yes mother. I have had an entire week to think and the more I do, the more I feel that my place is among the Templars," said Carver Hawke looking into his mother's sorrowful eyes.

"All right," said Leandra, "I will miss you son, every single day."

"So will I, mother."

"Am I interrupting something?"

Both Leandra and Carver turned around to see a disheveled Gamlen standing in the doorway. The former stiffened. "Gamlen, you're drunk again and were you last night."

Her brother simply smiled. "At a place where your son should be, now that he will be joining the Templars. Which reminds me, Carver how much will you be earning. Will it be enough to sustain your mother in some shady Lowtown hovel?"

"You're not throwing us out Gamlen."

"Why not? There are no more earning members in this house. Why should I have to put up with you Leandra?"

"Oh no, Gamlen. This house has been bought from the money of the Amell estate. I have a right over it as much as you do."

"That won't stop me."

"Mother," Carver intervened. Placing an arm over his mother's shoulder, he said, "He's right. I'll find some temporary accommodation for you. There's no need for you to live in such…" he looked at Gamlen, "…indignity. The Templars know of our misfortunes. They have given me some money. It will be enough for a month. By then I'll have completed my recruitment and will have a higher post and salary within the order. I'll find a better place for you then."

Leandra could only cry. How had her life been reduced to such a miserable one? She had only one child left and no one turn to even for her most basic needs. She, Leandra of the Amell's of Hightown.

She couldn't take it anymore, she shouted, "Get out right now, Gamlen. You're drunk and you reek."

"Cheap liquor is the only thing uncle Gamlen can afford mother and he wears it like a perfume. Do not begrudge him for it. His evening companions at the Blooming Rose certainly don't."

Gamlen was certainly drunk that morning but not so drunk as to not recognize his eldest nephew when he walked in through the door. His mouth dropped opened and having already lost control over most of his senses, the old man stumbled back and fell. He didn't manage to hit the ground however as Isaac's deft hands managed to quickly catch his uncle. He knew it would take some time for him to recover from the shock and decided to lay him on a nearby cot. A few minutes later, they began to hear the deep snores.

"Well, that's one problem taken care of for the moment," said Isaac Hawke as he turned around to face the remaining members of his family.

Neither Issac nor Carver could remember the last time the latter had cried. Perhaps it was when he had been kicked and beaten up by some of the boys in Lothering and had to be carried home by his elder brother. Or maybe the time when he had been temporarily removed from the village school for a mistake he did not commit. His big brother had again come to his rescue then. He had always been way too proud to shed a tear in front of his older brother.

But today, he couldn't stop the tears from flowing. "Isaac," he gave a huge sigh. "We thought you would never come back, we thought…" He noticed the keen interest with which his brother was looking at his templar robes. "I joined the Order. Earlier, I couldn't think of anything else to do but now I feel that my place is right there among them as a servant of the Maker."

Leandra, who had all this time been speechless walked across the room and wrapped her eldest in a huge, tear-filled hug. Isaac welcomed his mother's soft embrace. He held her tightly as she sobbed against his shoulder. Emotion overwhelmed him. He never thought he would cry again after Bethany died. But right now, the tears were of happiness.

Now, with the new found money, all their troubles would be over.

Kirkwall's Docks (Day)

Amidst the chaos of ships docking in and out of the harbor a small, shrill voice could be heard over the deep-throated sailors' banter. "Isabela, Isabela, have you heard the good news?"

The said pirate turned around and took in the small, lithe figure of Merrill as she came running towards her. The girl's face was practically glowing and her eyes were sparkling like emeralds. Isabela marveled at the small things that her little elf friend could find delight in. Maybe she grew another perfect patch of roses or found another new, remarkable friend in the dreary alienage. Things that the girl always rushed over excitedly to tell her pirate-friend.

"Smuggling has finally been made legal in the Free Marches," joked Isabela, unable to hide the laughter in her voice.

"No, no, you won't believe it Isabella," said Merrill trying to catch her breath.

"What?"

"Isaac and the other three have finally returned from the deep roads."

Everything suddenly seemed to have stopped for her. The commotion around her went unheard. All she could see was Merrill and her radiant face.

She stood speechless for a few seconds. "When? Today? How did you find out?

"Oh just this morning. Varric came over to the alienage, all spotted and muddy and told me the news. He couldn't find you at the Hangman's and so told me to inform you and Anders immediately. He said he had to tell us quickly because he knew Fenris and Aveline wouldn't and Hawke had to return to his family. I told him to stay but he of course had to go back to his room and rest.

All of these hit Isabela like a whirlwind. Isaac was back, here in Kirkwall, with his family. "Should we… should we go… and meet them?"

"Oh no. Varric said that Isaac has ordered everyone to rest for the day. He said they have brought lots of gold from the Deep roads and their expedition was a huge success. He didn't tell me about the delay but we have all been called tomorrow at Hangman's in the evening. I guess we can ask our questions then."

"Okay."

"Well, I better go now I still have to tell Anders."

"Of course."

Merrill was about to run off to Darktown when she noticed the sudden despair in Isabela's composure. "Is something the matter?"

"What? Oh no. I just take a long time to recover from… surprises."

"Oh, okay."

Isabela watched the retreating figure of Merrill with a mixture of joy and sadness. Her first instinct was to rush over and see whether or not Isaac had actually come back with her own eyes. She would believe it only when she saw him. She…

"Hey Isabela, come over and tell me where these barrels should go. There's another huge cargo coming in from Orlais today and then another from the Anderfels. We have to get moving and fast." It was the nasal voice of Jarven, one of her deckhands.

"Not today, Jarven. Tell the captain I can't help. I'm taking the rest of the day off."

Jarven nearly dropped the package he was carrying.

Normally, he didn't even have to tell Isabela to give him any orders. Unless, she was hanging out with that mage and his other companions, Isabela was always there at the docks from morning to evening, shouting out orders to her crew. They all respected and admired her. She was the best quartermaster they had had and in the evenings she would regale them with her adventure stories on the high seas.

It must be something to do with the mage, he thought and went back to his work.

Hangman's pub:

She knocked on the door two times. No response. She rapped it loudly again. Still, no response. She waited for a few seconds and this time, rapped it even louder, shouting, "Varric, open up, it's me, Isabella."

A few minutes of impatient waiting later, she could hear some noise on the other side of the door. Finally it opened and out came a very haggard looking Varric Tethras.

"Wow Varric," she said "you've grown a golden beard."

The dwarf grunted. "Yes, Isabela, I have grown a golden beard. Try as I might, I couldn't find any shaving cream in the Deep Roads."

"And you haven't lost your sense of humor either. Next time, remember to take some with you"

"Didn't Daisy give you the message?"

"She did, Varric but I couldn't believe it. I had to see you for myself. Is Isaac okay?"

The dwarf smiled. "Ah, finally the real reason you woke me up. Yes, your mage lover is okay."

"Mage-lover, I thought he was a Templar-lover."

"Ha ha, yes, unfortunately so for Anders. What I meant was, your most favorite mage in Kirkwall is perfectly safe and sound, if only a little less handsome than usual. Now, if you don't mind, I'll talk to you when I'm awake," he said and closed the door.

Isabela sighed. She too went to her own room. She couldn't go visit Isaac now. He would be having a warm reunion with his family. Not that she would be welcome anyway. His mother never approved of her, always giving her stern glances every time she was around.

She had even heard the old woman tell her son quite a few times, "Stay away from that girl Isaac; she seems like nothing but a whore. I understand if you need her for your missions but don't get too involved with her."

Isabela didn't give two figs about what that prudish old woman thought about her but what had cut at her heart was that all those times, Isaac had said 'yes' and nodded with his mother. She knew he was his mother's son and always agreed with what she said. But she couldn't believe that the charming, young Isaac Hawke, who flirted with any girl given the opportunity and was a regular patron of the 'Blooming Rose' brothel, could think of her as a 'whore'.

She sighed again and looked about her room. As opposed to her personality, Isabela liked to keep everything in perfect order, just like she did on her ship. The few clothes that she had were arranged neatly in her closet. The maximum part of it was taken over by the jewelry and other exotic stuff she had found on all her trips. Merrill, of course loved the jewelry but even Aveline hadn't managed to control her childish glee the first time she saw them. She, along with Isabela and Merrill had spent many hours of their free time in Isabela's room going through the exotic stuff and playing dress-up. Who had thought that the priggish and conservative Aveline had a girlish side to her as well? Nothing beats a female bonding experience, thought Isabela.

She never had had any actual female friends, before she came here in Kirkwall. The only women she had shared a close relationship were her lovers and even they stayed with her for only one reason (just like all the men).

Isabela had never known her mother, or her father. Her earliest childhood memories were about being beaten up each night by her slavers in Rivain and then sent to bed hungry. They were a group who preyed on young children, kidnapped them and made them beg and do menial jobs around Rivain and finally sold them when they entered their teenage.

She had finally escaped her prison encampment one night by convincing her fellow prisoners to light their oppressor's headquarters with fire. She recalled that incident with fondness and a smile appeared on her face as the memory came to her.

They had all been put to bed an hour ago by the sole, female slaver in their camp. Along with Isabela, there were thirteen other kids, from ages between five to ten. There was only one other twelve-year old but he shared a room along with the other slavers. All the kids were scrawny and undernourished and were lying on their bunk beds in torn, white night-clothes. Night-clothes meant only a single garment for each child. Oversized, dirty, white undershirts that had probably belonged to the other slavers earlier.

It was a sultry, hot night and Isabela's back still hurt from the heavy packages she had been made to carry earlier. She had dropped them twice or thrice and had had to receive three strong whip-lashings later in the day, which was the mildest punishment at camp. The wounds from them only aggravated her pain and it prevented her from falling asleep.

Sleep was the only joy that the hapless little children knew ever since they had entered the slaver camp. It was the only peaceful place they could escape to from the daily horrors that they suffered. They therefore tried to sleep the moment they hit the bed, some doing so instantly from the exhaustion. Isabela however, couldn't manage to that night and having no good memories, there were only the bad memories that haunted her. Two hours had passed since she had been sent to bed and if she didn't manage to get enough sleep in the next four hours, she would receive much more severe punishments from her oppressors for falling asleep during the day.

For the first time in her life, Isabela started crying. She had always been inherently strong and never once in the five years that she had been in this slaver camp had she cried. She had borne all their cruelty with a silent sadness and got through each day by pushing away all the sad thoughts that descended on her mind. She had trained her mind, not to think or remember anything beyond the commands she was given by her slavers. After two and a half years at the slaver camp, she had become a human being devoid of emotions, just a machine that did whatever it was instructed to.

But that night, she couldn't bear it anymore. As the current Isabela reminisced about her childhood, she desperately tried to recall what it was about that particular night, as opposed to any of the others when she had been in a similar, if not much more tragic predicament.

She was on the lower most bunk of a three-tier bunk-bed. The one above her was occupied by a perpetually sniveling eight year old boy (who was right now, thankfully asleep). The one above that was occupied by her best friend, Alina. She was ten years old, the same age as Isabela and had been brought to the camp two years after the former. She was from foreign shores, Isabela had guessed, as her very pale skin, coupled with straight blond hair and ice blue eyes definitely wasn't a Rivaini trait. It was only a year later when she came upon the knowledge that Alina was from Ferelden.

As little Isabela lay in her bed, silently trying to brush her tears away, a white figure suddenly jumped from top of the bunk bed. A few seconds later, Alina's ice-blue eyes were staring at her. They were in perfect contrast with her now tanned face and the darkness that surrounded it. "Isabela," she said, "I am thirsty. We have to get some water for the kitchen."

The slavers never kept water in the children's room. The kids therefore, had to sneak up to the kitchen, located in the slaver's mansion, twenty feet away from the shack they were housed in. Apart from their room with the bunk beds, the shack only had a bathroom and a toilet which had to be cleaned by the children themselves.

Alina was still staring at Isabela. It was then that she noticed that her friend had been crying. "Isabela, what's wrong? Are you still in pain from the punishment you received today? It will be okay. Do you want some water?"

Isabela looked at the other girl and burst into tears. "Alina, I… I can't take it anymore. Will this never end? Tomorrow, we'll be woken up to do the same things that we did today and the next day will be the same and the next and the next. Will it never end?"

Alina looked at her best friend sorrowfully, "Of course it will, Isabela. You know that in a few more years, when we become taller and a little bigger they will send us away, just like they did to those other, bigger kids before us."

Alina was right. Isabela had seen many more kids leave the camp. Once they were old enough, they would be allowed to sleep in the slavers' cottage and guard over the smaller children. Then, six or seven months later, they would finally be sent away to some undisclosed place. That's what Isabela used to think until six months earlier, she had overheard a discussion among the slavers and some guests

It was two hours to their bed time and all the children had been instructed to clean the cottage and other areas of the camp as was the routine every day. Isabela was sweeping the cottage floor when she heard her name being called out. It was Garohn, the nastiest among the seven slavers at their camp. She gulped. She hoped that she hadn't done anything wrong. Garohn was a pure sadist and usually gave the harshest and cruelest punishments to the girls.

Today however, he seemed preoccupied with something and didn't pass any insidious comment when he saw her. "Go to the kitchen and help Loren, we have guests," was all he said and walked away.

Isabela immediately complied. When she got to the kitchen, the female slaver, Loren was busy cooking something that smelled delicious. When she saw the little girl, she pointed to the kitchen counter and said, "I want you to take all those dishes one by one to the downstairs hall and carefully lay them on the table. If you drop them or make another one of your clumsy mistakes, I promise you that I and Garohn will punish you severely."

Isabela gulped. She knew she had to be very careful. There were about ten dishes on the counter each filled with a variety of fine-looking delicacies that she had never seen before. She picked up a silver tureen and started on her way to the hall.

The slavers lived in a big mansion that had once belonged to a wealthy merchant's son. It was said that he had run away from the house after falling madly in love with a peasant girl and being denied permission by his father to marry her. No one knew what became of the father or the servants but the house was abandoned and then the slavers came upon it and made it their headquarters. They kept most of the house intact, only using the bedrooms to sleep and carried out most of their covert activities in the huge grounds of the mansion which they had converted into a camp.

The mansion's large hall and study were places that the kids hardly got to see unless they were sent to run some errands there. As Isabela walked down the marble steps that led to the hall, she took in all the luxury surrounding her. The chandelier on top of the steps was brightly lit and filled the room with a delightful radiance. Each reflecting object in the room sparkled under the chandelier's glory and added to the rich ambience. A few feet away from marble the steps, a dining table was set and the five people that currently occupied it were engaged in a loud discussion.

When Isabela got to the bottom of the steps, she recognized Darien, the slaver leader who was dressed in his best clothes. The others, Isabela didn't recognize. They were all men and were dressed much better than Darien or anyone else she had seen in her entire life. Each of the five men had a wine glass and empty plates, along with forks and knives before them on the table. They were all talking about something that was audible but undecipherable to Isabela.

At the head of the table was an elderly gentleman who seemed at least twenty years older than Darien, who was seated to his right. The other three occupants of the table were much younger, perhaps below thirty. They all looked at Isabela when she came to the table and very carefully set the soup tureen. In their eyes, there was an emotion that she could not comprehend but it nevertheless instinctively scared her.

After she had laid the tureen on the table did the elderly gentleman and Darien take notice of her. "Ah, I see dinner is now being served," said Darien. He turned to his fellow dinner companions and said, "This is Isabela, she's ten years old and will bring all the dishes for us. Loren will bring the last dish and start serving soon after."

Isabela didn't linger long and quickly ran to bring down the rest of the dishes. She was sent to bed after she was finished but the things that she had heard that evening, kept her awake for the rest of the night. She didn't share it with anyone else but now as she looked at her best friend, she knew she had to tell her about the slavers' intentions.

"Alina," said Isabela, "it's not as simple as you think. They just don't release us or send us away. They have something much more horrible than this planned for us later on.

Alina just looked at her best friend innocently. "What do you mean Isabela? Why just the other day I heard Timothy (the oldest kid who now lived in the slavers' mansion and helped guard over the other kids) say to little Johnny that the slavers are going to release him in six months. Won't than happen with us too? You know that there are no kids in this camp who are over thirteen."

"No, Alina. You are right about them sending us away once we're older but not to be released but to other, crueller men. I saw some of them six months ago. They were having dinner at the mansion and they were telling Darien about some of the plans they had for us once he sold us to them."

Alina now looked at her incredulously. "What plans? Whom are we going to be sold to?"

Isabela sat silently for a moment, searching for the right words. "Once we are thirteen, we will be sold to old and young men to perform 'special' tasks for them."

Alina still hadn't understood. "What special tasks? Just like the cooking and cleaning that the make us do here or the begging?"

"Not those kind of tasks Alina. They said that it is difficult to get money from older children begging as most people show sympathy only to younger children. I don't know if they meant cooking or cleaning but while I was carrying the dishes, some of the men were staring at me in a very creepy way. The same way Garohn and that other slaver Alain do, at times."

Alina was now horrified. "Isabela, why didn't you tell me this earlier?"

"I didn't want to scare you Alina. I also didn't want to think of it as true and I can't forget it."

Alina started sobbing now. "Oh Isabela, there is something that I have to tell you too. I didn't want to, but last week, when all of you were sent to work and I was sick, something terrible had happened to me."

Isabela was now concerned, she moved to the left of the bed and made Alina sit next to her. She placed a timy hand on Alina's shoulder and did her best to comfort the sobbing girl. "What happened, Alina? It's okay. You can tell me. Did they beat you for falling sick?"

"No."

"Then what did they do. Did they say something very bad to you? Just forget it."

Alina took a deep breath and started her tale, "No. I had told Loren that I wasn't feeling well in the morning but she just called me a lazy urchin and told me to take the day off and lie in bed. While you were all gone, I followed her advice and just lay in bed, a little hot from the fever. Sometime later, Garohn and Alain entered the shack and came towards me I thought that they had been sent to punish me but they didn't have a whip or anything to beat me with. I thought that perhaps Loren had told them I was sick and asked them to just beat me gently with their hands," she laughed, smiling wryly at her own sarcasm."

"But no such thing," she continued. "They simply came to the bed and put their hands on my chest and started rubbing it. I was only in my night-clothes Alain had placed a hand on mouth but I was too scared to scream. I looked at them with frightened eyes but they just stared back evilly. Garohn then put a hand under my shirt and placed it between my legs and started poking down there and…" she could continue no more and the tears started rolling down her cheeks.

Isabela was horrified. They had done this to her! Sure they were cruel and beat the children and stared at them creepily but they could do even this! "But… but they didn't go any further than that," said Alina. "Garohn just kept asking if I felt good and if I wanted him to do more. I could only look at him and cry so he stopped, removed his hands and frowned. Alain then said to him that I was too young and that they would have to wait. Garohn told that he hoped the wait won't be too long as I was developing fast. Then they left."

Isabela was too shocked to say anything and for ten minutes, the girls just sat there silently, each in her own horror-fantasy.

Alina spoke again, "All I kept thinking was that we would be released in two and a half years time. I didn't see the need to tell anyone about it then. It was too... too embarrassing."

Isabela, not breaking away her solemn gaze from the ground said, "We have to escape from here Alina. Right now."

A/N: I'm so sorry for getting carried away with Isabela's back story. I hope you don't mind. It will be completed in the next chapter where Isabela finally gets to meet Hawke.