Disclaimer: Not making a profit, just having fun.
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A Rivaini Talisman
Part 3
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Isabela was halfway to drinking herself into what she desperately, desperately hoped would be a peaceful, dreamless sleep when the none other than the Captain of the Guard herself barged into the Hanged Man and marched right up to her table.
"Whore," came the gloriously spiteful, wonderfully normal greeting from Aveline, and Isabela was so relieved that she almost stood up and kissed those broad, scowling lips.
"Big Girl! What brings you to the Hanged Man so early in the morning?" she happily greeted back instead, since apparently she wasn't even drunk enough to voluntarily introduce her face to the business end of Aveline's fist. "Miss me, didn't you?" she then quipped, because she never did pass up a chance to bond with her favorite Guard Captain.
Aveline twitched, nostrils flaring like an angry bronto about to charge.
"I'm here to do my job, whore."
Isabela laughed and took a swig.
"Skipping the foreplay, are we? All right, Big Girl, let's hear it."
"I received several reports concerning an incident last night," Aveline began, crossing her arms over her chest and looking more peeved by the second. "Thefts and complaints. Two stores robbed, and an unrest that originated from the Red Lantern District in Hightown and erupted in Lowtown. My guardsmen were able to contain it, but it still resulted in many arrests and a handful of casualties that required medical attention."
Isabela smiled pleasantly.
"And why is Kirkwall's Guard Captain telling me all this, hm?" she asked.
Aveline's eyes narrowed at her.
"According to witnesses, the disturbance was caused by a naked woman who beat up five men with a dagger, a mannequin and a hairpin. It was also the same woman who had robbed a dress shop in Hightown and a hat shop in Lowtown."
Isabela chuckled.
"These witnesses of yours sound like Varric. Seems like everyone wants to show how big their imaginations are these days."
Aveline looked even less amused, if such a thing was possible.
"The thief made off with over a dozen hats and a dress with ruffles. A lot of ruffles."
"Excellent taste," Isabela remarked, taking another swig.
Aveline sneered.
"You like ruffles."
"I do," Isabela eagerly admitted. "I also like a lot of other things, like that pretty headband of yours. I've always liked it. I've been thinking of getting one for myself. How do you think it would look on me?"
"Isabela," Aveline snapped, "You're wearing one of the hats."
Isabela kept on smiling.
"And what makes you think I didn't pay for this, Big Girl? If I can afford a night at the Rose, I can afford a hat."
"The price tag is still on it, whore."
Isabela blinked, thinking it was a joke, then she remembered she was talking to Aveline and took the hat off to see for herself.
"Will you look at that..." she drawled, still calm, "so it is."
Her reaction was obviously not what Aveline had been expecting, for the Captain of the Guard sighed and muttered about all the words, effort and time that had just been wasted on her.
"Not that it matters, Isabela, but..." Aveline paused, as if deciding against it, only to sigh again, "do you have anything to say for yourself before I throw you in a cell?"
Isabela ended up sighing as well.
"Big Girl, you know what it means when I beat up men instead of sleeping with them."
"I know," Aveline said, tone actually softening a bit. "What I don't know is why you were traipsing along the streets without any clothes. Even you're not that desperate."
Isabela shrugged and finished off her drink.
"Would it help if I return the hats and the dress?" she offered with very little conviction and enthusiasm.
"Return?" Aveline grunted. "Maker knows what, and who, you've done while wearing those things. That dress, especially."
"The Guard Captain humors me!" Isabela cheered, unable to keep from grinning. "Looks like I'm getting off easy."
"You don't need my help with that, whore. "
That was the moment the door to the Hanged Man swung open and the Champion of Kirkwall walked in. Hawke quickly looked around and, when she saw them, she stalked over to them and said something that made Isabela want to run away again.
"We need to talk."
Talk? Talking was bad. Talking was usually serious. Talking usually involved feelings, and it could lead to sex with feelings. She didn't want that. She hadn't done that in a long time and she distinctly remembered promising herself she wouldn't do it again. On the other hand, talking could end in tears, broken hearts and Hawke walking away and Maker, that scared her even more.
"Hawke," Aveline said, saving Isabela the trouble of coming up with something to say. "I'm sorry, but whatever it is, it will have to wait. Isabela is under arrest."
"What?" Hawke sputtered. "What is it this time?"
"You said you'd let me go if I gave them back, Big Girl," Isabela blurted out, then immediately regretted opening her mouth.
"I never said that, whore," Aveline hissed. "Even if you do, you're still going to the brig because that doesn't account for damages and the-"
"Aveline," Hawke cut in, whining just as expertly as that mabari of hers. "I have to talk to her. Please."
The Captain of the Guard frowned, the kind of expression she usually made when Hawke was making her choose between duty and friendship, but no sense of duty could withstand the power of the Champion's wounded puppy look.
"Fine, Hawke," Aveline grudgingly relented, "but only under the condition that you'll personally escort her to the barracks before the day is over."
Hawke nodded.
"All right. Let's go, Isabela."
"Go?" Both Isabela and Aveline asked. "Go where?"
Hawke blinked at them.
"To your room," the Champion said, as if it was the most obvious thing.
"Why?" Isabela and Aveline once again asked, at the same time, with the same tone.
Hawke raised an eyebrow.
"Are you two doing that on purpose?"
"What? No!" was the ineffective protest spoken in perfect unison.
"Never mind," Hawke sighed, looking a tad cross. "Let's just go, Isabela."
Whatever Isabela had to say went completely forgotten when Hawke took her hand and gave a little tug, coaxing her to get up, which she did. Aveline regarded the gesture with a deep frown and a murmur of disapproval.
"Don't forget-" Aveline started to say.
"- barracks, this afternoon," Hawke finished for her.
"Right. I'll see you then, Hawke," Aveline said, then bid farewell to Isabela with a gruff, "whore," and turned to exit the tavern.
Isabela watched Aveline go until she felt another tug at her hand. Hawke nodded towards the rooms and began to lead her into the hall. She still didn't speak, focusing instead on trying not to think about the last time someone had held her hand like this and realizing she couldn't even remember.
They nearly bumped into Varric as he was walking out of his room.
"Hawke, Rivani," he greeted them tiredly, but then his exhaustion seemed to magically go away when he noticed their linked hands and figured out where they were going. "Going right back to it already, Rivaini? Dear Maker, I'm this close to believing you're part desire demon."
"Already?" Hawke echoed, and it would have been cute if it didn't make Isabela's stomach twist in fear because, for some reason, she didn't want Hawke to know she had been with other people last night.
Whether or not Varric noticed her reaction, he only shook his head.
"Look," he sighed. "I know it's not any of my business- don't give me that look, Hawke! You're the Champion of Kirkwall, of course people are going to know about your private life. I'm there to make sure they don't get any details wrong. Anyway, I'm speaking as a friend right now."
He paused - for dramatic effect, no doubt - and then Isabela felt even more nervous when he looked at her.
"You've had Blondie check up on you since you paid a visit to the Rose, right, Rivaini? I probably should have told you sooner, but he's been telling me that he's getting twice as many patients who either go there or work there."
"Yes, Varric," she managed to say through gritted teeth. "I went straight to the clinic, just like always."
It was also the reason why she wasn't nearly as drunk as she wanted to be when Aveline came barging into the Hanged Man. Anders had the gall to pretend to be asleep for two hours - a blatant lie, because what sleeping mage could sustain a barrier? - before he finally let her in the clinic. She had to sit through a lecture about sex and hygiene, a tirade about the most recent plight of mages and a, "I'm only doing this so you don't infect Hawke," every now and then.
"Well," Varric chuckled, snapping her out of it. "I just wanted to make sure. I wouldn't want this story to end with the Champion of Kirkwall falling to the wiles of a pirate and her, ah, then unsavory treasure."
"I'll show you unsavory," Isabela hissed, stomping over the still chuckling dwarf and making an exaggerated show of bending over just to look him in the eye.
Varric held up his hands in peace, but he couldn't seem to stop grinning.
"Just having a little fun with you, Rivaini," he said, not even bothering to sound apologetic. "Speaking of fun, weren't you and Hawke about to have some of it in your room? You two go do that. I'll just be on my way."
Isabela tried to grab Varric before he was out of reach - by the chest hair, preferably - but she stopped when she realized that she was using the hand Hawke was supposed to holding. She slowly stood straight, biding her time, trying her best to prepare herself for that sodding talk.
Then she felt it. She didn't have to look to know. Hawke was staring at her, the kind of heated, hungry stare Hawke would give her before pushing her to the nearest surface and fucking her roughly.
She turned around, daring Hawke to lunge at her and rip her clothes off because that, she could handle, that was better than talking.
Hawke's gaze, which seemed to have been on her ass, very slowly moved up and stopped at her breasts, as if it was the first time Hawke had seen at her body. When Hawke had finally looked at her - when she could tell, just by looking at those honest, expressive blue eyes, how much Hawke wanted her - it was almost embarrassing how wet it made her.
Isabela drew closer, until she could hear Hawle's heavy, shaky breaths, until she could hear the throaty moan Hawke couldn't quite stifle.
"Tell me, Hawke," she murmured, lightly brushing her palms against that bulky, damnable breastplate. "Was all this just a ploy? Saving me from the vicious Guard Captain, just so you could have your wicked, wicked way with me?" she purred, sliding her hands up and then wrapping her arms around Hawke's neck and delighting in how that simple touch made the Champion shudder.
"I..." Hawke faltered, face flushed and eyes unfocused.
"I think," Isabela giggled, fully pressing their bodies together and beginning to pull Hawke down for a kiss, "this is the part where I say thank you."
The kiss lasted three, maybe four seconds - not that she was counting - before Hawke squeaked and hopped away from her like she had just contracted a new plague.
"N-no," Hawke stuttered, looking more pained about it than Isabela did. "I- no. We should talk first- we should talk. I really need to tell you something."
Isabela stared at Hawke for a moment, noted the glassy eyes, the dazed look and all the other signs that made it perfectly clear Hawke would rather be doing her instead. Whatever this was, it was important enough to get in the way of good sex.
"Fine," she sighed, then began to lead the way to her room.
There was a pause before she heard Hawke follow. She smiled, knowing it was because Hawke had been distracted by her ass and was most likely still staring. She put more sway in her hips, and the Champion almost tripped.
"Oh, and, sweet thing?" she called without looking back. "Be careful where you put that dagger of yours. Don't want you hurting yourself now."
Hawke almost tripped again.
"My... dagger? Ah, yes, my dagger. I'll... be more careful with it. Thank you, Isabela."
Isabela shook her head, wondering why Hawke was being so silly. If she didn't know any better, she would say Hawke was acting like a flailing virgin, and both of those things certainly weren't true.
"It's bigger than I remember," she remarked absently, trying to keep the conversation light, "is it new?"
They had reached her room by the time she got an answer, but not before Hawke almost walked into the door.
"You could say that," was what Hawke mumbled.