A/N: Thanks for the reviews and all the good stuff. For those stalwart few still here, our two heroines get some time for heart-to-heart. Could name it 'Alone in the Dark' too.
The wood of the door felt cold and rough against Isabela's cheek. She was pressing against it as if she willed it to open from her touch alone. The sounds of the choir were still audible, the final words of the Chant of Light reverberating throughout the Chantry. The pirate was not deeply familiar with the different verses of the Chant, but even she had heard the Canticle of Transfigurations, so significant here in Kirkwall.
Isabela tried to open her mouth, tried to call for help, tried to scream, but nothing came out. She tried to kick the door, but her limbs wouldn't move. All she could do was stand against the door, helplessly, realizing that life went by normally out there, but she was confined. She could not even move to pick the lock of the door, she who could pick just about any lock. Her and Aveline, in this place forever.
"Why are you still trying that? It's of no use." Aveline sounded stoic. She was no longer kneeling by the altar, and instead was sitting with her legs stretched out, leaning her back against a wall. The candlelight made her hair glow a deep copper red instead of the normal, brighter ginger. "It's a waste of time. Which you are probably good at. Normally under someone." She carefully checked the cut leather of her armor, looking at the incision on her arm. She flexed her hand, then took off her gloves, letting out a deep breath.
Isabela walked back from the door, and focused her ire upon Aveline. She stood towering above her, with her hands on her hips. Her eyes were glowing amber in the dim light of the chapel, full of irrational anger directed at her companion. "Why the fuck did you have to ask me of all people? Why not Hawke? She would be able to fix this. She'd set this whole place on fire and then she'd kill the bastard. But no, you had to ask me, because you don't bloody hate me enough already."
It was so easy to rise to the bait. Aveline looked back up at her and then simply said the first things that came to mind. "Shut up, whore. Of course I should have asked Hawke, but don't you think she deserves a break? She just lost her mother! It's a miracle she's already smiling again. Imagine if she was here. First she loses her mother to a blood mage, and now another blood mage is a slaver who has us trapped in here." She glared intensely, her green eyes brooding. "Stop being so fucking selfish, Isabela."
"Stop being so priggish and uptight. You know everything better. You are the best judge of everyone, and you always know what's right or wrong. Your world is full of black and white, and I am so black to you." Isabela snarled at the guard-captain and started pacing, restless like a caged tiger. "So what if I am selfish. I had to learn that, to survive." With irritation, she yanked at the bun of hair, spilling the tresses to flow freely across her shoulders. It was wavier than Aveline remembered, but then, she did not usually see Isabela without some sort of bandana holding her hair down.
Aveline checked her gloves, for any sign of rust or wear, and then dropped them on the floor again. "I don't understand selfishness. I actually asked you because I thought deep inside of you, there was an unselfish soul whose greed usually carries her away. Guess I was wrong, if you now wish any of our friends were here in your shoes instead." She methodically started to inspect her armor, just like she would do any other day at the end of a day.
"An unselfish soul. What were you thinking?" Isabela continued to pace, kicking aside one of the benches that stood here for the devout who would come into this chapel for prayers. "You picked me because you thought I have no scruples and would just spread my legs without any thought to it. As if I had no standards. Why did you not try to get him to fuck you on your own? Scared, aren't you? For good reason."
Aveline rose and checked on her greaves, not deeming Isabela worthy of a glance. "Stop making this personal. I only had the best of intentions. Don't think I haven't noticed how much you value personal freedom. I have known you long enough to know that you hate slavers, and those who abuse women. I have seen the look on your face when Hawke killed Kelder. I have heard the stories how you took Castillon's Fereldan slaves and freed them." She stood up straight, pointing a finger accusingly at Isabela. "I made the mistake of thinking you were a good person and not a selfish bitch. Stop making it sound as if I whored you out. I tried to make this bloody bastard stop the best way I could figure out, and I failed. Don't think that this is not eating at me already."
The guard spoke with so much conviction and righteous anger that Isabela was unable to come up with a retort. Especially as Aveline was right. She did despise slavers, and she valued personal freedom above anything else. Eventually she spoke up, poking a finger back at Aveline. "I won't stop making it sound like that, because that's what you did, whoring me out to a psychopath. It wasn't right. I went along with it for the greater good. I have my reasons why I hate slavery. You can't possibly understand. I mean, come on. What bad things have happened to you? Fought against darkspawn, lost your husband, never got laid again. You have a posh position in the city guard, you are never lacking for anything. What would you understand about how the world treats the poor, the helpless. Women. You know nothing."
Aveline's jaw set squarely, pushing her chin forward. It lent her face a masculine edge, a fact often mocked by Isabela. "Of course I know nothing. Of course. It's all fallen into my lap. What does it matter that I lost loved ones during the Blight. That I saw my rightful king fall to the darkspawn. That I had to stab my own husband in the heart to spare him further pain, his blood corrupted by the taint of the spawn. Do you know how it is to love and then lend your own hand to taking the life away? How could you possibly know." Aveline's eyes were burning brightly in the flickering light of the candles.
"I worked so hard to be where I am right now. I try my best to promote women in the force, to see them treated fairly. Do you have any idea how many rapists are out there, in Lowtown and the docks? Even in Hightown, though the crimes there are behind locked doors. How many sick creeps out there just take a woman because they feel like it . I hunt them relentlessly. Within the law. I am in the middle of an investigation, where two elves are claiming that a city guard raped their sister. If he did, I swear by the Maker, I will punish him myself, he will not escape my wrath." Aveline's voice was choking. "I see the victims, and the murdered women, and all I want is to stop them, to make Kirkwall a better place. It's a never ending battle. But you are right. I know nothing. I just sit in my office, having my ass nicely cushioned, and moon over men that I can never obtain." She turned away from Isabela and moved back towards the altar, falling on one knee. "Maker, help us."
Isabela was drained by all those words. It was not what she had expected. Sometimes it was so easy to focus on their opposing personalities, on the contrast between them. Sometimes it was too easy to forget that they were just two women, trying to make a living in this world, stranded in the same place, in Kirkwall, driven along by their uniting force, Hawke. It shouldn't be so easy to forget.
She sat on one of the benches behind the kneeling Aveline. It seemed as if the darkness was increasing in the room. Two large candle holders were still flanking the altar, but the smaller lights on the walls and at the back of the room were flickering out, spent. Eventually, they would sit in darkness. A wave of terror rushed through Isabela. Alone, in the dark, waiting for whatever fate Yuvar had set for them.
"I was sold. For a goat and a few gold coins. He saw me and my mother in the market in my village. We lived on the coast, not far from Dairsmuid. He was a captain. He saw me and decided to have me. My 'loving' mother was only too happy to oblige." Isabela went quiet, then laughed bitterly. "Not the kind of life I had envisioned, but at least I got his ship. That's how I learned to be selfish. If you're not, then you'll be used by those around you. Look at me having been unselfish this once, and even you used me." She picked at a shard embedded in the back of her hand, and hissed through her teeth at the sharp pain.
Aveline had turned around, to look at Isabela as she told her tale. She remained wordless, but as she watched Isabela trying to clean her wounds, she unwrapped her rust-colored scarf from around her throat. There was a basin of water right by the door, where supplicants were to wash their hands before engaging in prayer. She dipped the scarf into the water, and then sat on Isabela's right side, taking her hand. "Let me."
The Rivaini was surprised by this gesture, but let her take the hand. Aveline's hands were strong and calloused. There was a reason she often called her Lady Man-Hands, for her hands were easily as strong as those of any fighter in the guard force. And yet, she gingerly picked at the shards with her bare fingers, regardless of the dim light in here, and carefully washed every cut, every incision, with her scarf, gently. "You don't want this to get infected, that could be very painful."
Isabela chuckled, and shook her head in confusion. "We might die, Aveline. In an hour, in a day, in a week. Whenever he lets us out of here. Do you really think it will matter if those tiny cuts fester?"
"I am not ready to give up. We'll think of something. Maybe Hawke will find us. Or Merrill will sense that there was blood magic. We'll have to think of something." For a moment, Aveline's hold on Isabela's hand was almost painful. "I shall not relent, and neither should you. Men like him, and Quentin, they need to be stopped."
Isabela nodded assent, but did not voice any ideas of how they would actually stop him. It had been too easy for him to take control of her. She tensed at the memory. It was like being sold to her husband all over again. No control, no free will, ready for abuse. The years had not really mellowed the memory.
Aveline seemed to sense her anxiety and continued to gently dab at her hand. "Almost done here." She chewed on the inside of her cheek. "I take it he used force on you? Your husband, I mean." Isabela merely shrugged. That was not even worthy of a response, it should be that obvious. "How about other men? How do you live as a pirate captain, with so many men being...of unsavory nature? Are you never scared?"
Isabela laughed bitterly. "You bet I was scared when I was introduced to this life. My first years as the Siren's Call's captain were rough. Too many men thinking they could do whatever they wanted with me. I killed each and every one. Men do understand when you cut off their balls or stab them in the eye. I have done both. Have you?"
Aveline shook her head, and then let go of Isabela's hand, putting the scarf aside. Almost all of the candles but the two large ones in the front had expired, and the ones by the altar would not last much longer. It got harder to judge each other's expressions. Isabela cautiously checked her hand and found it free of any bumps. Just cuts now, but no more fragments embedded.
"See, you call me a slut, a slattern, a whore. Instead you should be amazed that given my history, I can find personal enjoyment in this particular freedom, when it was yanked from me as a girl. I have nothing to be ashamed of." Isabela spoke the words challengingly, trying to see Aveline's expression, but it was too dark for that. "You always sound like it's something I should be ashamed of. Why?"
Aveline turned away, folding the damp scarf, then unfolding it. Then refolding it. Just something to keep her large hands busy. "We have grown up differently, Isabela. My father wanted me to be a chevalier, just like he used to be. Just look at my name. He wanted me to be Aveline du Lac, Knight of Orlais. But it was not for me. It's not a name to revere. She died for her desire to be a knight, it is nothing to be proud of. I learned the virtues and strengths of a knight, without ever becoming one. I met Wesley when I was in the Fereldan army, and we were two like-minded souls. I have only been with my husband. I do not understand this giving away yourself and taking what you need. It's against my nature. I am not ashamed of myself."
She hesitated and then corrected herself. "I am ashamed of myself. That I did dare use you. It is against everything I stand for. You are...a friend. You are part of my extended family. I should protect you and not use you. I have failed." Her head sank to her chest, just as the last of the candles extinguished.
They were bathed in darkness. All that was audible was the sound of their breathing. There were no steps outside, no more choir, just two women, breathing in and out in a darkened chapel. In the darkness, Isabela reached out her hand and found Aveline's. She rested it on top of the larger one, speaking softly.
"You have not failed. You are right, we should not relent. We can still get out of here. You are so strong." Isabela's voice was soft in the darkness, and for a moment it seemed as if Aveline's breath was choked, like a swallowed sob. "You are so strong. I am strong. I believe in us." Aveline's hand moved underneath hers, turned to actually take Isabela's hand. They laced their fingers, and quietly sat in the dark.
For a moment Isabela considered. If she had to go, if this was her last night, should she not have fireworks? It would be so easy to seduce her. But that wasn't what she wanted. Not at all. She wanted her to admit that she was lonely. She wanted her to admit that she needed companionship, emotional and physical release. It was like asking for the moon. At least companionship, she should be able to offer.
She moved closer to Aveline, whispering to her. "It is okay to admit that you are lonely, Aveline. That you have been lonely. It doesn't make it hurt any less, but it's best to acknowledge it. I am lonely, big girl. I know how it is to lie awake at night, just longing, for something more. During the day, it's wiped out, I can keep myself busy. It does not make you a lesser person." Her free hand gently touched Aveline's face, imagining the blush on the woman's face, the delicate freckles on her pale skin.
The guard's breathing was heavy, but she did not speak. Isabela moved to pull the headband off, dropping it on the bench in the darkness. She stroked Aveline's hair soothingly, feeling the woman relax under her touch.
Aveline finally whispered, four words. "I have been lonely." Isabela threw her arms around her in the dark and pulled her closer, cradling her against her chest, still stroking her red hair. She smelled like leather, like iron, like blood and like clean soap. The Rivaini put a finger underneath her chin and questioningly touched her lips with gentle fingers. Her eyes had adjusted to the darkness to show her the outlines of her face. She felt the guard-captain tense immediately, and slowly saying "I can't, Isabela."
Isabela smiled in the darkness and whispered against Aveline's ear. "I would never force what you do not want." She rose. "Let's find a spot against the wall, and let's try to sleep. We can plot once we have had some rest." Aveline followed her carefully to one of the corners of the room.
Isabela squeezed into the corner and waited for Aveline to sit as well. Once seated, she pulled her close again. They held each other silently, listening to each other's breathing, waiting for the morning to come. It was strangely comforting.
In truth, both felt less lonely than they had for a long time.