Hawke stood at the helm of the ship, directing it smoothly through the beautiful Rialto Bay towards the glistening Antiva City. It was a place where they say every man is either a poet or merchant prince, and that treachery is the coin of the realm. Or so I was told by Isabela last time we docked here. I think she mistook 'poet' for 'assassin' though. The pirate Captain was standing at the front of the ship, her long blue coat blowing in the breeze as the rest of the crew worked tirelessly around her, swinging from the rigging and calling out to each other from above. She was a real slave driver (so to speak). After a few days on Captain Isabela's ship when they left for their first attempt at piracy together just over a year ago, Hawke could see why she was the most feared raider of the Eastern Seas and one of the most infamous women in all of Thedas.
Lana smiled as she watched her, glad to see that she had finally put her coat back on and covered up her nakedness. I hate it when the rest of the men stare at her with desire in their eyes. What's underneath should be for my eyes only. They had left Ferelden a few weeks ago as quickly as they had come. King Alistair was below deck, Isabela having accepted his (well paid) offer of a lengthy quest. Hawke was glad she had, as their own leads on treasure had dried up in recent months, giving them the opportunity to spend a few days in Lothering with Bethany and Charade. Apparently Alistair had something of a plan when they reached Antiva, though he hadn't yet disclosed it, needing only Isabela's underground knowledge of the less than pretty places there. I wonder what business a King has in Isabela's parts of the world.
As the ship swerved towards the birthplace of the Crows, Lana realised that her lover wasn't looking towards it anymore. Isabela was now focused on something else on the horizon opposite. She couldn't read her expression being so far away, but could see the pirate clench the wooden rails of the ship a little too tightly. Curious, Hawke passed off the helm to Isabela's First-Mate, an elf named Brand, and walked along the deck towards her, being splashed with salty sea water several times as she did so. She put her arms around Isabela's waist from behind and rested her chin on her shoulder. The pirate touched her arm and smiled at her, leaning back into her embrace.
"What are you looking at?" Hawke asked gently in her ear, following her gaze.
Isabela sighed. "Do you see that little island there in the distance?" she replied, point with her free hand towards the tiny slab of land to the right of the ship as they slowly turned in the direction of Antiva. Hawke 'mmmd' in response.
"What about it?" she asked.
Isabela snorted, "Hawke, have you ever even looked at a map of Thedas before?" she teased, knowing if the woman had of she wouldn't be asking about this island's significance right now.
Lana chuckled, "Only the one you gave me when we started our life of piracy together...And to be honest I didn't look at it very hard, considering you were undressing at the time. I got pleasantly distracted."
Both of them sniggered. "Balls, I should have bloody known," Isabela replied. "Well, anyway, that little beauty over there? That's where I grew up."
Hawke's eyes widened in surprise. "That's Rivain?" she asked, glancing at Isabela. The pirate shook her head.
"That's Rivain," she corrected, pointing towards the enormous outstretch of land that covered almost the entire horizon and stretched as far as the eye could see, beside the little island she had been looking at. "The peninsula of the country. Technically they are all the same, but I wasn't born there. I was born on that little chunk of rock in the port city named Llomeryn."
"Wow," Lana breathed, "And you said that I lived in the arse end of nowhere?"
Isabela chuckled. "You did, Hawke. Llomeryn is ten times better than the best Ferelden has to offer."
Hawke made a noise of disagreement, causing Isabela to laugh. "So how come you didn't stay if it was so brilliant?" she asked interestedly.
Isabela's face fell. "I told you before," she said evasively, "I got sold off to my husband. I would prefer not to get into it again, Hawke. I haven't been back to Llomeryn in over a decade, and I don't particularly want to."
Lana frowned, hearing the pirate's change of tone. She kissed her on the neck. "Bela, I love you," she reminded her gently, "Whatever you tell me about your past is not going to change that. I just wish you would open up to me more sometimes. You always wear me down until I talk. I feel like I have no secrets left from you anymore."
"What's the point?" Isabela asked, sighing, "You already know the basics, sweetness, and I'm not one for details."
"Unless they're sexual details," Hawke joked, "In that department you give far too much information. But if you don't want to tell me... fine."
Isabela spun around and grimaced, hearing her disappointment. "Oh don't use that tone, Hawke," she pled, hating when the woman made her feel guilty like that. "I just don't feel like talking about it alright?"
"Fine," Hawke repeated. "But you know, we did promise to take each other to see where the other grew up, and I kept my end of the bargain. It had been a long time for me too, Isabela...and it wasn't as easy as you might think returning to Lothering like that."
"I know," Isabela said, caressing her face and staring into those chocolate-brown eyes which were, as always, tortured with ghosts of the past. There were times on their vacation when Lana had simply sat in silence, lost in thought as memories of her past overcame her. "That can't have been good for you, considering everything you lost there, sweet thing. And I will take you to Llomeryn sometime and show you around. I promise you...but just not any time soon."
Hawke exhaled. She knew there was something more to Isabela's story that she was holding back but didn't want to push her. Isabela was a complicated person. The more you pressed, the more she resisted out of sheer stubbornness. Maker, I used to be like that too until she found a way around it. Though I suppose Leliana had already loosened me up a bit back in Lothering before I fled.
"Look, Hawke," Isabela said, seeing that she was backtracking on yet another promise to her love. "You're the first person I have trusted enough to open up to. I've told you more about my life than I've ever told anyone, so please don't be offended."
"Do you trust me though?" Lana asked, knowing that compared to how much Isabela knew about her, she knew about a speck of her in comparison. The pirate gave her a quick kiss in reassurance.
"Completely," she said, meaning it. "This isn't about you, sweetness. It's about me. There are skeletons in my closet that I just don't want to set free. Llomeryn is one of them, my relationship with my mother is another, and unfortunately the two go hand in hand. I know you understand the parent issue more than anyone, Hawke. So I'm begging you to let this drop."
Hawke sighed, remember the years of torture with her mother in Kirkwall before she had been murdered. Isabela had never understood that relationship. It frustrated her. Maybe the one she shared with her own mother would be the same for Hawke, too difficult to grasp as an outsider. I can't argue with her there. "Alright," she relented, "I'm sorry. You're right."
Isabela gave her a small smile in thanks and released her, walking away and issuing out more orders to her men as they began to dock in Antiva.
King Alistair led Isabela and Hawke through the dark streets of Antiva City, his long black cloak bellowing in the wind, hood up to protect his identity. It was a dangerous place for kings to be hanging around. He was glad he had such worthy battle maidens at his back. It wasn't that he was afraid (as if!), but this city was an unpredictable monster that could strike suddenly in the form of a Crow, making even an Arch Demon look like a mere bird in comparison.
Alistair sniffed. "What is that smell? Fish? And something else. Oh... more fish."
"It's Isabela most likely," Hawke joked, sniggering.
"Oy!"
The pirate swung round and slapped her across the side of the head, making Alistair laugh.
"I'm kidding! Smells much like it did last time," Lana said, covering her mouth and gagging a little. Isabela chuckled and took a glance around, remembering her time living here.
"I think it's glorious," she said, grinning proudly. Antiva City made her feel closest to home, yet far away enough to appreciate Rivain from afar. Though different in culture, the people of both countries were largely similar in morals and lifestyle. Hawke snorted.
"So you like that fact that every street corner here smells like seawater mixed with...*sniff*...what is that stench?" she asked, her eyebrow rising.
"Mould mixed with rotting flesh?" Alistair ventured with a grin. "That's what my untrained nostrils are picking up anyway."
"Well, it's much better than dog!" the pirate replied almost defensively. "Ferelden is bloody putrid with the stench of wet fur. Antiva smells like wine and spices during the day."
Alistair and Hawke chuckled. The king looked at both women warily then, knowing they were thinking the same thing with their mischievous glances at each other. Wine!
"I need you two sober for this quest, so don't get any funny ideas while you're here," he warned.
"Yes, my king," Hawke replied sarcastically, giving him a mocking salute.
"Royal bastard," Isabela added, smirking. "You're no fun, Alistair."
Alistair groaned. "Oh Maker, I'm going to regret this now, aren't I?"
The two women giggled in response.
The trio made their way silently through the extravagant streets of Antiva City, which normally during the day would be bustling with people. Now however, every corner looked like a potential ambush in the dark, the shadows lurking eerily as though holding dangers unknown. It made Lowtown look like the safest place in the world in comparison. The open square was a welcome sight as the Market District came into view.
"They say you can get anything here. I once got pick-pocketed," Alistair said, looking around at the empty stalls which tomorrow morning would be filled with all kind of delicacies imaginable. Isabela chuckled.
"Probably by me."
The warden laughed. "Most likely."
"Oh look! A tavern!" Hawke exclaimed excitedly. She turned to Alistair and gave him pleading puppy dog eyes. "Can we?"
Alistair sniggered and turned to Isabela. "I can see why you two are together," he joked, "She's like another version of you, but only...cuter."
"Watch it! Andraste's tits, what is this, bash-on-Isabela-day?" the Rivaini asked, glaring at him. She grabbed for her dagger mockingly and swung it skilfully in her hands. "And keep your eyes to yourself, Alistair. King-slayer is about the only title that I don't have to my name...Don't tempt me."
Alistair laughed and blushed a little, embarrassed, intentionally avoiding looking anywhere in Lana's direction. "I jest! I jest!" he cried, pretending to cower in fear. "Maker's Breath, don't kill me!"
Isabela smirked dangerously and placed her golden dagger on her back again. "And Hawke sweetness, drinks are on you when we're finished here. Let's see how our new royal companion can handle his liquor."
Hawke laughed and nudged Alistair with her elbow. "Do you even drink anything other than fine wines and fancy champagne? I bet you couldn't keep up with us. We'd have you drunk under the table in no time."
Alistair scoffed. "I'll have you know that we Grey Wardens have a higher constitution than you mere mortals. I tried Dwarven ale once though back in Orzammar during the Blight. I thought it was just something they tricked surfacers into drinking as a joke. It's about the only thing I wouldn't touch now."
"Maybe we'll get you some of that later then," the Rivaini teased, "One thing everyone learns when they travel with Isabela is that everything and anything has to be touched sooner or later...sometimes even licked."
Lana laughed, seeing the look on Alistair's face. He is definitely the most down-to-earth king I have ever set eyes on. "I can vouch for that," she joked, "Just keep your ass out of sight unless you want it pinched...or kicked."
Isabela grinned at her proudly. She gets me.
They walked under a grey stone bridge and rounded the corner only to be faced with two Antivan guards, standing outside a massive wooden door.
"Stay where you are!" one of them yelled in his thick accent.
Alistair continued walking forward, the other two on either of his flanks.
"Not one more step!" the other guard warned, both of them drawing their blades. "Give me a name or start running."
Alistair pulled back his hood, revealing his thick head of blonde spiky hair and brown stubble on his dirty face.
"My name," he began, "Is Alistair Theirin, and I am King of Ferelden." When the men didn't flinch he added hopefully, "Son of Maric the Saviour?...Oh Maker, I shouldn't be here."
Hawke laughed, withdrawing her blades. "They're really not convinced, are they?"
"Convince the dead!"
The two guards began to attack. As Isabela and Lana made to engage them they were thoroughly disappointed. Alistair grabbed the handle of his father's sword, tearing off his black robe, and cut the two men to pieces in one quick flash of blood and guts. There was a noisy clatter as the two guards fell to the ground along with their swanky swords. Hawke and Isabela stared at the king in amazement.
"So it can fight!" the pirate teased, grinning wickedly. "I was beginning to think that sword at your waist was largely ceremonial."
"Of course I can fight," Alistair replied, smirking, "Just ask the Darkspawn."
"And the Arch Demon," Lana added. The warden shook his head.
"I can't take credit for that," he said, shaking his head. "That was all on the Hero of Ferelden, that one. Now she could definitely fight...Like a bleeding Arch Demon for that matter."
Hawke chuckled. "I love how even her friends call her by her title. Are we ever going to learn her bloody name?"
Alistair laughed, "Maybe someday I'll tell you the story...If you behave."
"No promises," Hawke replied, making Isabela snigger.
Taking everyone by surprise, Hawke dived to the side instinctively and shoved the king out of the way as an arrow came flying towards him out of nowhere. They both looked up in shock, noticing another guard behind them. Seeing he had missed his target and recognising that Lana and Isabela were not mere 'women', he dropped the bow from his shaking hand and ran in the opposite direction.
"Let the Crows have you!" he cried.
Suddenly it began to rain. Wait, that's not rain! Isabela backed away, dragging the others along with her and hovering under the shelter above the door the men were guarding. Metal bolts fell from the sky, showering the ground in an onslaught. The unfortunate guard yelled out in anguish as his body was pierced multiple times over, bolts littering his body. He collapsed on the spot and dragged himself behind a nearby trailer full of hay for protection. Isabela dived into it, leaning over the edge and gazing down at the unknown soldier from above.
"C-crows will out them," he was muttering to himself, bleeding profusely. "C-Crows will scatter their guts on the street..."
"What an adorable imagination," Isabela joked, hovering over him. The man looked up in shock. "I once knew an entertainer who performed with dog intestines. Terrible mess at the Bazaar but he loved the work."
Before the bewildered guard could reply the pirate had slit his throat mercilessly. She giggled, having enjoyed herself immensely, and jumped out of the trailer, pulling the bits of hay from her clothes. Hawke and Alistair walked towards her.
"Nice bedtime story," Lana said, chuckling as she pulled a small bit of straw from the ends of Isabela's black hair that were peeking out from below her blue bandana.
"You always loved it," the pirate joked, winking at her.
"Three nights in Antiva and already the shooting starts. If only I could be surprised," a gruff voice said from somewhere nearby.
The three of them jumped and turned around.
A shadow dropped from the roof of a building nearby and a beardless dwarf landed in the middle of the street. He twirled a metal bolt in his hand, placing a massive crossbow onto his back and walked towards them coolly.
"Maker's Breath, Tethras! I was wondering when you would show up," Alistair said grinning. "I was beginning to think you'd stood me up."
"Not if I could help it, your majesty."
"Varric!" Hawke exclaimed, happily surprised, recognising his face as he walked into the light of a nearby lantern burning on the wall. She clapped him on the shoulder.
"You always loved making an entrance," Isabela said, grinning at him like a proud mother.
Varric wheezed a laugh and deposited the bolt back into the large pocket of his brown jacket.
"And you always loved making a mess, Rivaini," he replied, glancing around at the dead soldiers and at her bloodied hands.
"We shouldn't have killed them," Alistair said. It seemed he disliked killing much more than the rest of them. Isabela snorted.
"You did," she said, "They were dead as soon as you gave them your name. Who does that?"
The others laughed as Alistair blushed. He was too polite for his own good sometimes. It would be a massive change travelling with these crazy fools. Maybe it would do him some good though.
"Cut him some slack, Rivaini," Varric said, "Most Kings can't speak a word without a script from their advisors. I'm surprised he can even say his name."
"Maker, I hate this King business," Alistair groaned, knowing they hand many more jokes at his expense. "Damn her for putting me on the throne with Anora. I'd have much rather stayed with the Wardens."
Isabela patted his arm. "You make a great King, Alistair, better than you will ever realise."
Alistair threw back his head in laughter. "You know that's exactly what the Hero of Ferelden said after she appointed me?" The four of them chuckled. "Anyway, let's get moving before the Crows notice us raiding their Archive."
"Do you think that was his commanding voice?" Isabela muttered to Varric as she wiped the blood from her hands with a cloth he handed her. The Dwarf sniggered.
"Maybe it only works on Fereldens," he joked, not feeling rallied in the slightest.
"No, it doesn't even," Lana added, making the other two laugh. The original trio were back to torture those they travelled with it seemed.
"Would one of you rogues mind getting the door instead of mocking me?" Alistair asked, rolling his eyes.
"That was more like it," Isabela said, "I think he's a little pissed off right now. You can really hear it in his tone."
Hawke and Varric sniggered as the pirate got to work with her lockpicks, wriggling them in the key hole to try and open the massive wooden door. After a few seconds it sprung open with a click!
"You're pretty good at that," the King said, impressed.
Isabela winked at him. "So I've been told."
"She's got plenty of practice sticking things in holes," Varric said, "I didn't make all those stories up you know."
King Alistair laughed quietly and led them in through the wooden, double doors that the guards had been posted in front of.
Inside Hawke had to adjust her eyes, not believing what she was seeing. The hallway was decorated like nothing she had ever seen (and that included Duke Prosper's Chateau Haine), with massive shelves stacked ceiling-high with ancient looking books and old, dusty documents.
"You know, you seem like my kind of King, Alistair, if I was ever stupid enough to bend down for one," Isabela said, liking how his first idea straight off the ship was to break into the Crow's Archive that held their contracts, blackmail files, secret histories along with Maker knew what else.
"She might bend over for you though, that's more likely," Hawke joked.
Alistair sighed, "Do you two ever talk about anything other than...making love?"
Hawke and Isabela laughed quietly at his embarrassment and choice of words. Varric snorted.
"You're only noticing now?" he asked, shaking his head. "Ancestors preserve me, they told me you were a smart King."
"Who told you that?" Alistair asked, as though he didn't believe it himself. "I'm not that smart...am I?"
Varric groaned, "Never mind, just try not to get us killed. Hawke's been trying to do that to us for years."
"Stop!"
Lana reached out a hand and held the others back.
"What?" Alistair asked, seeing her bend down on the ground as though smelling it. "Now's not the time for-"
"Let her work," Isabela interrupted, seeing she wasn't messing around. "This is what you brought us for remember?"
"Ah-ha! See that?" Hawke asked, pointing to the floor. The others bent down for a better look. "Tooth of the Serpent," Lana informed Alistair, seeing he didn't have the right aptitude for traps.
"Yes, so?" he asked.
Lana exhaled. Warriors, no eyes for traps at all. "Watch."
She picked up the tiny thing which looked like the head of an arrow and all four of them jumped back instantly. Massive silver blades swooped down across their path, meaning to chop them in half while the ground erupted into a series of spinning bone-grinders.
"Dragon's Crèche," Isabela said, a note of awe in her voice. "This building is designed to kill anyone who enters without permission. Apparently it takes decades to make."
"Good vanity projects for the old Dwarven families," Varric added, "Antivan Crows too, apparently...I'm impressed Hawke. Not many without keen Dwarven eyes could have spotted that."
Lana winked at him in response. "I learned from the best, Varric. Do whatever you came to do Alistair. We'll take care of the rest of these babies."
The King watched in amazement as the three clever rogues split up and began examining the tiny, almost invisible traps which had been hidden all over the Archives. He couldn't help but realise that his coin was well spent, and by the looks on the three companion's faces, they were rather enjoying themselves, eyes lighting up with delight as they filled their pockets with the loot hoping to use it at a later stage no doubt. He decided to leave them to it, treading carefully over the safer parts of the Archives towards the shelves of dusty scrolls.
"Trip wire mechanism," Lana said, disarming and pocketing it.
"Thief's Folly," Isabela said dully, "Maker, why do I always get the easy ones."
"Because you have something in common with them," the dwarf joked, laughing quietly to himself.
"HALT!"
All four of them spun around as the door burst open. Crows poured in along with a very flashy, Antivan looking man with slicked black hair and fancy clothes and jewels.
"Found all the traps, but missed the alarm," he said, mildly impressed.
Isabela frowned, feeling a familiar sensation of disgust and hatred rising in the pit of her stomach. "Hello, Claudio," she said coldly.
The man named Claudio eyed the pirate closely, a huge sneer appearing on his bearded face.
"Well, well, well,look who it is! If you're this desperate for coin Isabela, I'm sure I could find you an alley somewhere to work on."
"Hey! The only alleyway she's allowed to work on is mine!" Lana said angrily, though with a hint of a joke as usual. "And don't you forget it, Grease-ball." She made to walk towards him but Isabela held her back with an outstretched arm.
"Just leave it, Hawke. He's not even worth it."
Claudio laughed, "So you finally found someone to tame you, Isabela?" He turned back to Hawke then. "I'd watch her if I were you. Don't get sucked into her lies...not unless you want a blade to the back of the skull like her late husband."
"He deserved it!" Isabela spat, "I'd do it again if I had to...I'll settle for killing you though."
"Wait!" Alistair said, placing a hand on both Hawke and Isabela's shoulders as they went to attack. "Are you Claudio Valisti?"
Claudio started to laugh then. "Then you're King Alistair? Maldición! I wasn't expecting to greet you personally...or for you to have such distinguished companions. You are lucky it was I who responded to the alarm."
"I had to know it was real," Alistair said, handing him a scroll that he had been reading.
Claudio took it and began to scan its inscribing. "You are convinced then? And Velabanchel?"
"Yes," Alistair said.
Lana glanced at the others in confusion, as though feeling like she was missing something. What are they talking about?
"Sí, sí...So you don't trust them," Claudio said, patting Alistair on the shoulder, "How wise, Your Majesty."
"I think he's talking about you, Rivaini," Varric muttered to her.
"Quiet," Isabela said, eyeing both royal men with suspicion. "I want to hear this."
"Go!" Claudio said then, "You are free to leave. Know that I cannot aid you further."
As he went to leave he turned back, staring at Hawke. "Remember what I said, Hawke....Oh sí, I know who you are. Word travels far in Thedas, especially the words of Templars. Mark my words. This zorra will kill you before the end like she did to my business partner Luis, her husband no less...I'd stake my life on it."
"Isabela didn't kill her husband," Hawke replied, glaring at him with dislike. "A member of the Crows did."
Claudio laughed. "Is that what she told you? Killed by her hand, or by her orders, I will have my revenge, Hawke. And I am afraid if you believed her lies, you are already doomed...Such a shame for a woman as pretty as yourself. You may yet meet the same sticky end as your amor."
His words hung threateningly in the air as he moved out of the Archives with his Crows. Lana turned to Isabela who avoided her gaze, a guilty look crossing her face. Balls, curse that bastard, Claudio!
The pirate led them out of the building and through the streets of Antiva towards the nearest tavern. As Varric and Alistair made idle chit-chat, Lana stared at her lover a little ways ahead, thinking about what Claudio had just said. She lied to me? She remembered vividly the night that Isabela had told her she had been married. It had been straight after her mother Leandra's disastrous dinner party when she had seen them kissing. Realising her daughter's hidden sexuality, Leandra had screamed at Lana for all the nobles to hear, causing Isabela to run off for fear of doing more damage. But Hawke had run after her. That was the first night she had declared her love for her, only to be rejected in return. She had thought that Isabela was finally being truthful with her in that moment as she explained her aversion to relationships...but it seemed now that she was not. The thought lodged itself uncomfortably in Lana's throat.
The four of them entered a tavern called The Perfumed Spring. Isabela slammed a handful of silver coins down onto the bar as the others went to find a table. "What will this get me?" she asked.
"It'll get you good and drunk, belleza mía," the barman replied with an air of Antivan charm.
"Good," she replied coldly, "Then keep the drinks coming to that table in the corner until the coin runs out. And make it strong."
"Sí," he replied, bowing his head. "Sin problema."
The pirate walked away and seated herself on the vacated stool facing Hawke. They sat in silence until a barmaid came over and served their drinks: massive tankards of ale, two bottles of Ferelden whiskey and a bottle of fine Antivan red wine. Isabela and Alistair began to pour for the others. As Hawke reached out to take her glass of wine from the pirate, their fingers brushed, sending shivers down her spine. Her brown eyes met Isabela's amber ones then. We definitely need to talk, Isabela's were saying silently. But not tonight. Let's just have some fun. Hawke read her expression and nodded, knowing exactly what she was thinking. There would be plenty of time for talk later. For now though, all either of them really needed was a long hard drinking session with their good friend Varric. They had so much catching up to do it was difficult to even know where to begin.